The body, languid, lowered from on high lies heavy, cold, and formless on the earth. The voice that drove the temple doves to sky the kingly hope— lies strangled in its birth. So all deceivers living in the dearth of truth will ever be. And now instead the rightful rulers: scribes and men of worth […]
Read more "That Deceiver Said…"
Look what Christ can do— bound as He was to a cross, weary and strangled in pain, a joke on the lips of man, a curse on the lips of God— death of the Immortal. He died like no one else— the pride of the Father’s eyes, a portal torn in the veil from Satan’s […]
Read more "What Christ Can Do"
The rumble thunder far away the sky gone grey and stone the wind path still…………………like holding breath as sits the leaden, sober stress: I stand vibrant here and live because He bled. For me. – The shrugs and shirks—the lethargy, the bow and bend to idle sins pursued with passion down the path or sometimes! […]
Read more "Substitute"
It was in a garden where the firstfruits of our race found that joy and life was there that Providence had placed. But there inside a garden wall of shrubs and trees and berries all our cancer sin began to bloom The death of light the world of doom. – It was in a garden […]
Read more "The Song of the Garden"
He had the hands of a man,
grown from curled-up baby hands
to dirty, in-a-hurry boy hands
to hands that could wield
a hammer and nails;
hands obscured for thirty years
in seas of Jewish hands;
revealed—man-defying Teacher hands,
hands that could hold
and shelter and bleed;
hands, nearer with every breath,
to nail-intruded hands,
to weighed-with-the-sins-of-the-world hands,
the hands still moving,
washing dirt from feet.
His hands are the hands of God,
blameless, righteous, holy hands,
the died-and-lives-forever hands,
the hands that welcome
sinners into life.
Read more "The Hands of Christ"
No darkness, no cross, no death-wound of heart could keep Christ from his friends. They ate and talked and sang and slept while He loved them till the end.
Read more "Till the End"
Broken like a casket box– then waves of sudden cold puddle on the head and hair dripping off the beard. Overpowering all else an earthen, floral note– extravagant, and rich embarrassment of eager zeal. – Lasting for a moment–just the ostentatious show outpoured, and used and sudden–gone. a year of lavished work. Just so–the trail […]
Read more "Mary’s Memoriam"
That the Lord of the universe should make Himself small, a microscopic speck on a planet obscured in light years of galaxies, is a wonder. That the Holy One, ablaze with purity, should walk straight into the ugliness of this world and eat with sinners is another. But there is a greater wonder— that the […]
Read more "Wonders"
Like gently playing chords first loud then…nonchalantly………soft; the secret siphoning of information from my mind to where my students sit and accidentally learn.
Read more "The Art of Teaching"
I like a lot of songs, but not many like me, not out of rudeness— real songs are not rude— they are just busy with notes and lyrics and keeping pace. But this song must have eyes for kindred spirits, must be the voice to unspoken enchantments, because every word and every beat turn me […]
Read more "Favorite Song"