More Inspirational Meditations

Two colours predominate with daisies,
White and yellow.
Clean and bright,
Each little fellow.

Gardener's bane
On the grass he wants plain.
But child's joyous plaything,
Woven in a ring.

Sturdy stems by a thumbnail split,
Joined to each other,
On a youthful head to sit.

When play is over
Cast down in the clover,
To wither and dry.
Left there to die.

And so there is a time to wait.
Probably the hardest thing for we humans to do.

WAIT!

We don't like waiting for a bus,
Waiting for a hospital appointment,
For a child to be born.

And yet waiting is so important.

After Jesus had gone,
The disciples waited.
What went through their minds
At that time?

They looked back
Over the three years
Spent with Jesus.
Years packed with healing
And forgiveness.
Now he was gone,
Ascended to heaven,
And he had told them
To wait.

They ate a little
And slept a little
And then dawned the morning
Of the Feast of First Fruits.
A time to fast and pray.

The waiting was over.
Divided flames of fire
Came through a violent
Sound of wind.
The flames flew to each head
The Spirit had come.

Well maybe "meek", but certainly not "mild".
"Meek" is a word they used of a powerful horse
That was under his rider's control.
But "mild" he was not.
Kind to the sinner
And the ill.
But not "mild".
Was he "mild" with the pharisees?
No, he told them the harsh reality,
That they were at the back of the queue in his kingdom.

"Mild?" when he overturned the tables
Of the moneychangers in the temple?
And drove out the animals
From the court of the gentiles.
Because commerce was more important to them
Than that the gentiles should come to God.

"Mild?" when he comes to us in this age,
And speaks in our mind
About all life's inequalities,
Unfairness and injustice.
Telling us to be like him
And stand firmly on the side
Of the outcast and stranger.
He is not mild and he will not allow us to be so.

By all means be "meek", like a war horse
Going into battle
Under its rider's control.

But never be "mild", like a pint of warm beer.

Be strong to do the master's bidding.

I ask ,young man,
Is it right?
The way you are living.
Taking what you can get
Where you can get it?
Uncaring of the trail of disaster
You are leaving behind
Treating each girl
As an object of your desire?

And then at work
Climbing to the top
On the backs
Of those who were your friends.
Grabbing for more
And yet more,
To satisfy your insatiable desire
For more and more things.
The fastest car,
The latest IT gadget.
All to impress
The trophy bride you seek.

Unfortunately
She is as selfish as you,
Or she would be attracted to
Someone deeper.
But you deserve each other.
She has chlamydia
And her tubes are blocked,
So we will be spared a second generation
Of your sort.

But I am not satisfied with that solution.
I have pity for you both
And would like to see you
Face up to what you have done and realize
That with the right help
You could still make a truly
Good life.

Now you must understand
I am not judging you.
It was the advice of the day.
"Go for it, get what you want."
And also I have dabbled in infidelity myself.
I cannot judge you.

But I want you to know
There is more to life than this.

Turn your thoughts to God, your Creator.
He cannot accept you as you are
But He has made a way back through
Jesus His son.
Jesus always gave everything of himself
For people like you and me.
Eventually He gave His life on the cross
God accepted his sacrifice for us
And if you will put your belief in Jesus,
God will accept you.
Drag you back from the mess you are in.

Oh! Did you think God had died?
Long since forgotten by the thinking man.
You cannot kill God.
How foolish.
He reigns still.
You cannot make Him dead by the power of thinking.
Or by forgetting
Remove Him from your world.
He made all things.
He made you.
You have utterly messed up
But He wants you back,
Remade at His side.
So do what you have no practice at,
Humble yourself,
Bow down.
Accept what Jesus has done.
Turn from your sin,
Which has degraded you,
Turn to God in Jesus.

.Are you afraid,
God is angry with you?
Then fear not
For He says
Come to me.
Come in Jesus name
All who are afraid
And there will be
Nothing to fear.
Jesus has made the way back to God.
If you are afraid,
there is no need to fear.

HOWEVER

If you are a pharisee,
Trusting in your own holiness,
You have much to fear.
God's standard is
Total perfection,
and if you cannot match that
And yet you insist on trusting in
your own good works.
You are doomed indeed.
God's wrath will fall on you.

But if you will turn,
Leave your own putrid righteousness,
Turn to Jesus,
For His blood-bought, golden perfection.
If you will let Him
Clothe you
In His garment of praise.
Even you the once
Proud and haughty pharisee.
Even you can be brought back to God

Timid soul,
Did I frighten you,
With my talk of God's wrath?
That talk is not for you.
For you He extends a hand of gentleness
And says "Come to me,
And I will give you rest."
The rest you are seeking,
The chance to let go of those things
You hate about yourself.
To relinquish your sins.
For Jesus has paid their price.
Don't cling on to the sorrow
They leave in you.
As to some security blanket.
Leave it all
And take the robe of righteousness
He offers you,
To be your complete clothing.
In this attire
You are fit for the King's banquet.
You may stand rightly proud
In this garment of praise.
Kitted out like this
You can be your true self,
As never before.

Wind of the Spirit
Blow on me.
Blow away the cobwebs of sin.
Blow away prejudice of mind.
Blow away the lack of love for others.
The lack of love for myself.

Fire of the Spirit
Burn in me.
Flame of the Spirit
Enlighten me.
May I burn with love
For those who know you not,
Burn with passion
So that I share your message of forgiveness

When storms blow up,
What will you do?
Have you prepared.
Is everything battened down?
For storms will come
You may depend on it.
No life is without its tempest.
Life does not take place on a mill pond.

Whether it be a hurricane, tornado,
Or a gentle breeze that builds into a gale.
You need the Maker of the winds on board
In your little ship of life.
If He's sleeping on a cushion
On board your barque,
You will be fine.
You can forget your worries.
He may be asleep
But He is also in charge
You will be safe.
If you panic
You may wake him,
Or you may just trust.

And so now
You have left me.
Your love was constant,
But I would not let you be beside me.

I chose another
But we were friends,
All down the long years
And now you have bowed out
A little early
And left me to struggle on
Through the gently dying days.

Your humour, though individual
And esoteric,
Has melted into the wind.
Since your passing
Tears prick my eyes
As I realize you have gone.

It would be so good
To spend an evening with you,
To hear you speak on a topic,
And then shoot off at a tangent,
At an angle too acute for me,
Until you enlightened me,
At last in your amused way.

You seemed not to realize
That other brains
Were not wired up
Like yours
And could not cope with the
Convolutions of your tales.

At school they teased you
And I sought to protect you.
And you were grateful
And gratitude turned to adoration.
But through the years
You learnt the frailty of my humanity
And loved me as a friend.

Your last few days
I spent time with you
And I still feel the joy
Of hours well spent with you.
It was so "right"
Sharing your last days
And gave completeness
To our friendship.

Your work is done,
You rest serenely.
I still have work to do
And take comfort in the memory of you,
Dear friend.

So what of those M.P.'s.
Of course, they should not have behaved
So despicably,
Claiming monies from the public purse,
Quite legally,
But not in the spirit of the law.
It's easy to decry them
To want to fry them.
Maybe even a little hanging, drawing and quartering
Would not be amiss.

But hey
Wait a minute
If we had been in their situation
Wouldn't we too have convinced ourselves
That it was quite legitimate.
Especially considering
All the work we had put in.
All those late nights in Parliament.
I think I could have convinced myself
That a little perk here and there
Was quite justified.
We humans find it so easy
To convince ourselves that what we want
Is right.
They must be brought to book.
But "Let him that is without sin
Cast the first stone."

People are people,
You know,
The whole world over.
We are just
Better at covering up
In this country.
Disguising,
Papering over the cracks.
But the cracks are most definately
Still there.

And when the paper
Is torn off
The cracks crumble
And the walls
Fall down.

We are all sinful.
It's obvious,
And we all need the Saviour,
Jesus.

People say,"It's not much like June."
They have such short memories.
In Devon June is often cold and wet.
I've seen it year after year.
But people have the quote
"Flaming June."
Fixed in their heads
They go by what they are told
And not by what they have experienced
Year upon year.
Will they never learn to use their heads
To go by what they really fully well know.
Will they never turn and seek the God who has showered them with love
All their lives.

Why these urges Lord?
I can't fight them.
I want to please you.
I don't want to do wrong.
I don't want to harm others,
But my body is shot through
With feelings that
Do not want to be denied.
I am bowed down before you
Begging for release.
You made me,
You know what I'm like.
You know how little power I have to resist.
Please Lord, oh please
Step in and calm me.
Wash away
The raging fire of my desire.