Archive | June 2015

In the Court of Judgment


Court of Judgment, if you please,
Will give me but chance to explain?
And I look around me seated in every chair,
The judgment seats occupied by me.

I continue on as if undaunted,
By the challenge of defending myself,
But first I must also prosecute,
So I am both friend and foe unfolded.

As prosecutor I know my every crime,
Every unkind word, every act of disrespect,
The yardstick of my misconduct?
The Bible I’ve myself declared true through time.

I show myself no mercy nor grace,
Sin after sin I hurl as proof,
I can be no Christian it is surely true,
I now show no pity as I glare at my face.

Concluding now the Prosecution’s turn,
I look to myself, also the Judge,
“Your honor she deserves a painful death,
She does for Eternity, deserve to burn.”

I’m beaten there can be no doubt,
Displayed in all the ugly of my sins,
As Prosecutor I delight in my smugness,
I will burn in Hell there is no way out.

Then Jesus walks into the scene,
His robes of white, His brilliant shine,
Compared to Him I’m in mud and rags,
Quietly He asks, “Are you not born again?”

“My Daughter, is your name in the Book of Life?
When I knocked upon Your hearts door,
Didn’t you ask me then to come in?
Agree to follow me through all strife?”

Then He reaches down and has me rise,
And reflected in His saintly eyes,
For a flash I see and understand anew,
That by His blood I’m sanctified.

My sins count against me no more.
And reflected too in His sight,
I see the beauty He sees, created for me,
To Satan, sin and myself I am guilty no more.

Court of Judgment, if you please,
Listen to Jesus, Redeemer of all men,
Find me guilty if you must, but know,
Jesus paid for you and for me,

His blood was shed in ultimate sacrifice,
At judgment when our sins are displayed,
When we ourselves want to look away,
We are redeemed, He paid the price.
                  d.f.a.v. 6/30/15

Lord, Teach Me to Love this Blessing

Thank You for this blessing,
That I never dreamed I’d have.
Though I asked You to help me,
Not once did I expect this salve.
Now here I am smack in the middle,
This is it Lord, sink or swim time.
Again I ask for Your help,
Help me love this blessing of mine.
When challenges present themselves,
Lord, I pray creativity to overcome.
Where intimidation rears it’s head,
Let my confidence be in Your sum.
Where pride is stung that I failed to supply,
That by sweat of my brow You didn’t provide,
I turn to You Lord, praying for grace,
This is Your blessing by my side.
Lord, teach me to love this blessing,
Simply because it’s a gift from You.
When negatives nibble around,
Remind me dear Lord, You’re the source,
And in You, from You, only the best is found.
      d.f.a.v. 6/27/15

Yes—Yes We Are!

Oh, my goodness!
Thank You, Lord!
That bright-eyed, smiling girl,
Bounded in my room this morning,
“Are you awake?”
“Good let’s cuddle!”
And—We did.

Oh, my goodness!
Thank You, Lord!
This long-limbed, miracle child,
Happily explained how she was awake,
“Went to sleep but,
An hour later, awake!”
And—we giggled!

Oh, my goodness!
Thank You, Lord!
She’s still in there,
The little girl in a young lady’s body,
Who can freely be,
Seven or fourteen,
And—we love it!

Oh, my goodness!
Thank You, Lord!
You called and she answered,
She’s more Your daughter
Than she is mine,
And we are thankful,
Yes—-yes we are!
              d.f.a.v. 6/25/15

The Joy for the Giver


Though no one said it,
neither brought up the broken bed
They’d agreed others need
warrantied more such blessings,
they’d get by.

Then they’d been so stunned
when their need was noticed,
With nothing to stand on,
no way to graciously excuse
the gift of a lifetime, they conceited.

The greatest gift though, the
receivers really noticed,
Wasn’t the need met afterall,
but in allowing the giver,
the joy of selfless giving.

All too often we shamefully dismiss,
we can serve God with our checkbooks,
Put our resources where the need lies,
Our help where truly needed,
blessings given by our sister in Christ.
blessed the giver and receiver.

Next before you just say no,
To the offer of a need met,
You should pray in gratitude
That your need is to be met,
and the joy of the giver as well.
          d.f.a.v. 6/23/15

Marriage Secret Success

Woman says to man,
We can’t be in love.
But why not? He insisted to know.
Because we both always
Want to be the spotlighted hero.
Both always want control.
That’s automatic power struggles.
It just will never work.

Man says to woman,
It’s too late, I already love you.
We can take turns.
Set limits and boundaries that stay.
We can win at this, I know it.
Just give it a try, success our goal.
Grow old together enjoying the cuddles,
We can be great if hard work we don’t shirk.

She wanted to just say forget it.
It would be easiest, she thought.
Yet she had a flash of insight,
Does God ever say this to me?
It’s not working my Daughter
Because you want to be number one,
Let go of this burden, give me the reigns,
Communicate with me, let me do this through you.

Right then, she surrendered.
Her wants, her will, her ways.
God loved her, would do His best.
Let His will resolve this trouble she could see?
God loved her enough to move mountains.
Even ones in her own character?
Would following this man in his place in three
Be greater than anything she could do?

Now she stood there seeing possibilities,
And love stood beside her
Covering her weaknesses, lighting up her strengths.
God held them both in His hands.
The man too would learn
To do things God’s way.
To cherish his helpmeet, together be linked,
The three of them bound could truly stand.
                d.f.a.v. 6/22/15

Let’s Hear it for Godly Men


Here’s to every man,
Who steps forward to be,
The man God can say,
At the end, “Well done” to.

Especially the man,
Who in age a boy you can see,
Whose choices one day,
Gives him man things to do.

This half-child himself,
Puts childhood aside to be,
As godly a father as he can,
And does so without blame.

He still sets his goals,
They’ll probably further than he sees,
But, he clings to God’s hand,
Not accepting Satan’s shame.

Here’s to the man who stands,
Solidly behind God’s Word & right,
Lives what he talks about,
Admits he’s not without sin,

The man who cherishes his wife,
Adores his children and the Light,
Uncompromising on the truth,
Pays the cost so God wins.

Here’s to the man who is a man,
Unconfused about his sexuality,
Unconforming in his lifestyle
Living a godly example to his community.

The man after God’s heart,
Fighting to restore the reputation of Christianity,
Forgiving the unforgivable hurts,
Because God wants His church in harmony.

Here’s to our dads, uncles, brothers,
Our preachers, teachers and deacons,
On the front line of the upcoming final battle,
Let’s petition heaven for God’s blessings for them.

Here’s to our policemen and firemen,
The host of men who are our beacons,
To them who we must respect,
Because for our sake they’ve oft prayed to Him.

They’re out there, these men,
God fearing, loving, following men,
Who stand in the gap for strangers,
As well as those who he knows.

Respect them, love them, honor them,
Exceptional because they follow Him,
Which makes them more valuable,
Than all of earth’s purest gold.
              d.f.a.v. 6/21/15

A Prayer When the Tears Come


O Abba Father,

Nine people died in a Charleston church,
One man pulled the trigger, caused this hurt,
But something tells me we’ve not realized,
Hate kills more than the taking of lives.
It steals the soul,
One bite at a time,
It turns good, evil,
Hate takes control,
Overwhelming good.

How far the bottles of our tears must go,
Our ignorance turned arrogance You must know.
Man’s evilness is overwhelming,
It’s as if we’re over here cheering,
          Push the envelope,
          Test the water
          Grab the fruit!
           Just a nibble!
          Grab the fruit!

Every place that man might be.
I wonder in my sorrow why we don’t see.
Sinful blindness doesn’t excuse our behavior?
Our selective hearing shames You our Savior.
          You won’t die.
          God doesn’t care.
          You can’t pray here,
          You can’t pray there!
          Christian? Not anywhere.

God, You haven’t died, You are alive,
Your presence hasn’t taken a nosedive,
We’ve shut You out without a doubt,
Mockery comes because without
Your God has failed!
Your God is gone!
Or is He asleep?
Your God don’t care,
Your God don’t care.

Then in some way I can’t explain
I feel Your presence, You call my name
As long as I can trust in You,
We’ll be alright, make it through.
           Hang in my children
          Trust me to provide
           Don’t give up your hope!
          Don’t throw away your vote!
          Hang on my children, hang on!
                  d.f.a.v. 6/18/2015

My Thoughts on Psalm 23


Psalm 23 talks about walking beside still waters,
Where He restores the soul,
And even if we walk through the Valley,
The Valley of the SHADOW OF DEATH,
There is no need to fear evil,
For God’s rod and staff comfort you.
SHADOW OF DEATH passes over,
Not Death claims you,
Or tries to claim you as it’s own,
To be another notch in Satan’s “gotcha belt”.
My comfort doesn’t come from mankind,
Nor is God rapping on people’s heads with His staff,
Or mounting valiant campaigns to rescue me.
Why should He?
Death will only be the thinnest veil,
That I, like you, pass through.
A shadow of it we pass by,
A mere shadow.
No evil monster or conquering hero
No Prince of Darkness winning us for eternal torment.
Satan has since Adam and Eve,
Frightened us with horrific death shadows,
Magnified monsters whose job it is to rob us of joy,
And love, and peace with Our Father.
Don’t be afraid of Death’s Shadows,
Allow Him and He’ll stand between you and all shadows,
He has carved your name on His hand,
He knows your every motivation, sin, thought an repentance.
He knows the number of hairs on your head,
He can certainly hold off shadows, He is the Son.
           d.f.a.v. 6/16/15

Cottage by the Sea #17, 6/16/15


Abba Father;
You created a fine sunrise this morning,
Streaks of buttery gold brushing away,
The very last traces of night.
In warmth and peace life awakens with light.
Birds once in warm-up are singing,
All over Your creation begins their day.

Rode out to this edge of the never-ending sea,
Close enough that sea spray,
Fell like fine misty salted lace,
Rejuvenating to soul and face.
Deep into lungs the air braces me,
I lift my heart to You as it should be today.

Then You walk with me down the beach,
With Your hand on the control,
The sand doesn’t spin beneath the tires,
On morning’s like this, Lord I could go for hours.
Sweet communion as You talk and teach,
If I choose only to hear You above the waves roll.

You turn me back towards our Cottage-by-the-Sea,
We talk about the room we’ve prepared,
The sins I find so hard to fight,
Weaknesses in my armour seen by Your light.
This is the purpose of here for me,
To expose my sins, pretenses and griefs I’ve dared.

I see in the sand traces of where we walked,
But waves have erased much of the evidence,
Except in my heart where I still clearly see,
Your feet beside my wheelchair tracks by the sea.
My true repentance, Your forgiveness and I’m cleansed,
Even if little else really makes much sense.

Up and down the beach, especially on the pier,
People prepare for fun and work at sea,
The sunlight beaming through tops of waves,
I’m still guilty of wanting to have this my way.
When I know You’re right through every hour,
I don’t have to understand or know Your purpose for me.

Here, here is as close to You as I can be for now,
On this sand, in this heart house Cottage-by-the-Sea,
Your cross I’m to pick up and carry,
You assure me I am & encourage me not to grow weary,
If that’s all I need to know somehow,
I’ll carry it on from this our Cottage- by-the-Sea.

Once indoors when I’ve poured the coffee,
The laptop is ready for the words I’ll write.
My fingers curl round the fragrant java brew,
And I think about circles and people and clues.
And I think about brokenness and toffee,
The future with You is suddenly right, so right.
         —Amen.           d.f.a.v.  6/15/15

What Love Looks Like

Art by d.f.a.v.
What does love look like?
As varied as we are in personalities,
So faceted is the answer to this query.

To the disabled woman on the mud of her home in the jungle,
Who has little to barter, few skills to offer,
Love may look like—
—a sack of rice or—
—the dignity of earning her own pennies.

To the wealthy couple on Park Avenue in their multi-million dollar condo,
Whose marriage looks great on paper,
Love may look like—
—a genuine conversation—
—about Billy’s grades or Lizzie’s ballet rehearsal.

Love, for a relationship strained by the ill health of one of them,
Saps energy, finances and attention,
Love may look like—
–The warm smile as they see each other—
—The dinner someone brought for the family—

The young teenager who thinks her parents say “no” to everything,
Whose chief whine is “I can’t ever do anything!”
Love may look like—
—a buffet of life’s decadence—
—And no one to suggest restraint—

To those grieving parents of a stillborn child,
Who will forever sit in their minds willing life to a lifeless baby,
Love to them may look like—
—resurrection when they’ll see their son with a new body—
—The comfort found in Jesus arms—

Love looks to each of us to appear as what we need,
It is genuine and warm
It is strong and upholding
Love is never wrong
But what we face is this world!’s limitations
Makes what we see through Heaven’s Eyes how beautiful is the mudane.
                    d.f.a.v. 6/14/15