Enough

Clamour and stammer to the next big sale,

 Cheese puff jars as big as a whale.

Commercials are running from Coast to Coast,

 To advise me of what I need the most.

The sight turns to like, then to want, then a need,

 Contentment abolished by systemic greed.

Flyers and coupons promise savings galore,

 Put it on credit and I can get more.

For stuff and for things I will misbehave,

 Purchasing my master, becoming its slave.

"It's all not enough!" my decisions proclaim,

 Is it any surprise I treat Jesus the same.

Gods Walking Club

Its funny how we all have a deep seeded need for proximity.  There is a vast difference in reading a book on a couch by your self, or reading one with someone next to you... be it a sibling, a spouse, or a friend...you don't event have to be reading WITH them... just next to you. In proximity to you.  Feeling thier warmth and hearing their breath.

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God knows about this.  He built us this way, because He IS that way.  He started the first walking club... with Adam and Eve in the Garden, every morning. He didn't have to... He is God and He is everywhere... He could have shown up as a giant floating head if He wanted to... He could see them at all times.  So why would He walk with them every morning?  Because he wants face time.  He wants relationship. 

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That does not happen over the phone, or over the Internet, or in a text message...it face to face.  Sure those things are useful tools and can help us connect, but it is not a replacement.   So put your computer, your mobile, and your ipod down and be with some one... be it a friend, loved one, child or spouse (and chiefly, your maker)... just connect...its what God did with the first two of us...

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thoughts? 

Thoughts on thievery

It is the fortunate man who is robbed in anonymity.

  It is true torture to see your thief enjoy their spoils.

How must God feel, seeing us take our fill of what is His,

  Without taking our fill of Him.

One Last Look

A telling glance

 Looking back after goodbye

Cannot tell a lie

The Process

The process is long, and the process is hard,

 Like chewing up asphalt yard by yard,

With plastic utensils on concrete food,

 No place for a sorbet interlude.

Abandoning comfort in the here and the now,

 Accepting the work without knowing the how.

They'll be no sign stating, 'You're almost done!'

 No checkered flag finish to declare you've won.

Peace comes in inches, for working these miles,

 Tears will be kidnapped, and ransomed for smiles.

The long and the hard is no short term deal,

 So get out synthetic silverware, begin your bitter meal.

You'll be glad when you've finished, its the only way,

 For God to inspect your plate, and declare 'Go out and play!'