Reformer's Smile

Where is your smile?
Oh, lover of sovereign grace...

Does your life know laughter?
Your wife know care?
Your children know a father
That shadows God, though heart unaware?

You of all men,
should be of them most happy.
Jovial, hospitable and warm.
Not for sake of companion,
but from Joy adorned.

You, who boast of sacred doctrine of old...
What would Zwingli say of your dispositions?
Or, dear Luther of your tone in Sunday's exposition?
Would Calvin sigh at your heart's critical malposition?
Or, Huss weep at your aim for a superior position.

What of man's depravity, fuels your tone?
Or, of undeserved election makes the heart cold?
Beautiful grace, do you claim as your own,
Without joy in God's people atoned?
Perhaps it is faith persevered,
that has killed your love song.

I fear that too often we know about God,
but never stop to ask...Do we believe?
Maybe that is why laughter finds such reprieve.

I dare not say we be perfect nor near divine,
Only that we must guard against this error...
That with all our thinking on theology,
We forget it's pursuit, our Sin Bearer.

Let us repent, let us reform.
Cry to God that your heart be warmed.

Blind

Arrayed in splendor, Oh High King,
The mountains bow at your majesty!
Glories unknown to the children of man,
All of creation holds together by your hand.

Still we catch glimpses of your beauty,
Those who have new eyes to see.
Stars echo your fame, your glory the ocean can't contain,
Birds sing your praises on refrain, even our lying heart proclaims
That we've all come to be by the power of your Name.

So many look, by do not see...
So many taste, but do not know...
The beauty and delight of life are but shadows
Of Him whose name is forever hallowed.

Look closer at creation, oh child of man!
When your child is born,
When you gaze at the heavens,
See Him who has no end!

See Him, the glorious Lord!
Christ Jesus, the savior of the World!

Romans 1:18-21

With Us

Emmanuel, The King of Glory born.

The hope of sinners and of scoffers scorn.

Eternal God, entered into time.
Helpless babe, almighty God, divine.

With us, sons of man with the only Holy Son,
To feel all we have felt and yet overcome.

He came not to conquer, nor demand...
But, to purchase children with open hands.

Emmanuel, how could it be,
Ransom paid, though wretched is me?

Nothing could be offered from our lips,
No praise, no work, no gift...
To adequately tell of your magnificence.

With us, though we most deserved of wrath.
All of us poor and needy, from the first to the last.

Vitality and Joy abound in newness, before unknown,
As our delight declares you are glorious alone.

Emmanuel, come near to a people so far away.
Giver of new hearts that be made to stay.

God, with us! And we bring nothing to the King...
Save our sin to carry to Calvary's suffering.

Yet, presents He brings... Christ's righteousness,
adoption and inheritance. Oh, what bliss!

Come, all you peoples, behold heaven's gift!
Christmas, Christ with us, don't miss this.

Fellow sinner, do not refuse His kiss!

Love Him, trust Him and receive His fullness!

All you saints, praise your matchless King!
Glory to our God! Join in as all Heaven sings!

He meets with me

He meets with me in the quietness of the night,
And even in the tumult of the day.
Though my troubles be many, and companion leave,
His sweet Words of promise speak along the way.

He meets with me when I feel abandoned,
And courage melts away within my chest.
It's then His love pours endlessly upon me,
Sweet heavenly treasure, my God matchless.

He meets with me, and only by His blood,
Wretched me could never love Holy Him.
I would spit & fight against Him still,
Yet He won me through redeeming love.

He meets with me, before new day births...
Vitality flees and lung's labor cease.
His warm embrace is here again, as eternity dawns.
Oh, how sweet He is amidst this disease.

A day is coming, and coming soon...
The meeting will know pause no more,
An ocean of endless life will break forth,
And waves of Godly pleasure break upon the shore.

Sweet Gift of God

Gift of God, 

Instrument of His Grace.

Wife of mine, 

Mercy upon her face.

Her true beauty runs deep within,  

Only to be truly known

In this one-flesh union, 

forged in heaven’s shadow.

God has knit my soul to hers,

And hers to mine,

Never more the two,

We are one, for this time.

Through life and death,

Through joy and pain.

When the storm comes,

She shines through the rain.

She is my helper,

For help I truly need.

Weary, I stumble and fall.

She picks me up, off my knees.

Her sweet spirit

Warms our home.

Her patient endurance

Makes this family whole.

Few men will ever know

Such a gift as i have enjoyed.

Wife of beauty and grace,

She is more than I could ever deserve.

So sweet a maker,

To give the gift of divine love,

Even sweeter still,

To give the gift of you.

Strutting About Like The Little Idiots We Are

One of my favorite passages from Mere Christianity...

"We must not think Pride is something God forbids because He is offended at it, or that Humility is something He demands as due to His own dignity--as if God Himself was proud. He is not in the least bit worried about his dignity. The point is, He wants you to know Him: wants to give you Himself. And He and you are two things of such a kind that if you really get into any kind of touch with Him you will, in fact, be humble--delightedly humble, feeling the infinite relief of having for once got rid of all the silly nonsense about your own dignity which has made you restless and unhappy all your life. He is trying to make you humble in order to make this moment possible: trying to take off a lot of silly, ugly, fancy-dress in which we have all got ourselves up and are strutting about like the little idiots we are. I wish I had got a bit further with humility myself: if I had, I could probably tell you more about the relief, the comfort of taking the fancy-dress off--getting rid of the false self, with all its 'Look at me' and 'Aren't I a good boy?' and all its posing and posturing.To get even near it, even for a moment, is like a drink of cold water to a man in a desert." 

--C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

Longing Heart

Painful longing after longing,
Indulging, yet not satisfied.
This weary heart of longing,
What will gratify?

Hopelessly empty I be,
Though I fill and I fill,
I am a cistern broken,
An eternal heart born ill.

A wretched, joyless desert i strode,
Crying out for a stream of refreshing.
Frantic searching all of my days,
But no solace found for my wrestling.

Glimmer, sweet glimmer,
Just beyond yonder hill,
A raging, eternal spring,
Beacons, "Come have your fill.".

How pure, how sweet,
This flowing river of delight.
How have I never heard
Of this living water, called Christ?

Infinite, matchless, beautiful...
Words could never measure
The fullness therein,
This costly ocean of pleasures.

The price is more that i can give,
Yet, One has gone before,
Securing this wanderer's place,
At the Fountain forevermore.

Yet, longing and wanting,
Feeble heart still yearn,
For inferior delights,
Feeding on worms.

Return, oh wanton heart
to the place of true delight!
Give no quarter to the inferior,
Fight for Joy with all your might.

Slay all that compete for affection,
Don't be fooled by misdirection.
Arise, look up from the fray,
This illness, this war will be stayed.

A day comes and will be soon,
When struggle will meet it's tomb.
Infinite appetites will be infinitely satisfied,
In His blood this promise ratified.

Hold fast, oh weary soul,
For He will not let you go.
The victory is not yours to gain,
King Jesus has overcame.