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Power
unparalleled
Present
perfection
Unmatched
understanding and wondrous wisdom
He has
Moreso than any
man before or since
The first true
Man
Even as so many
have first lived
But he Was and
Is
Before Them all
And yet, now
here he stands
With dust on
earthen feet and dirt earthly upon his human hands
In space and
time at the foot of the incline of this mountain and the wisdom fountain is of
course not dry but as he walks across this land
While they may
think him inevitably unassailable
He’s ready
practise the pure process of being intriguingly unavailable
Long live the
King
It’s not a
coronation yet but in ways it might as well be
As the water
washes over and that dazzling dove descends
The bottle has
popped, the can lid is cut, the curtain raised on the mad bad or God man mighty
mission with which so many have since through history become fretfully or
fervently familiar
And as this
proverbial curtain raises on the stage, the curtain of the sky is ripped in two
Torn top to
bottom in the middle and that bright bird blazes through as a virtuous voice
vociferously verbalizes valiant words from above
‘You are my
Son, whom I love;
With you I am
well pleased’
…So it begins,
and then, it’s time to leave?
You heard it
right, he flees,
Not out of fear
for it’s the Spirit here who leads
Down to the
desert full of demons and wild beasts, defying reasons, but the season was such
that this call he must heed
This world’s
war would be fought first on his Knees
Return to Town
It’s showtime
now
Sublime
spiritual significance to enact
A majestic
manifesto to espouse,
mysterious and
magnificent mission to embark upon and in time to execute, and here’s the start
Authority meets
compassion in paradox, both are paramount
As the one
recently attended by angels sees through the labels and opens his hero’s heart
To the sick,
poor, blind and lame
Releasing from
sickness and redeeming from sin in one breath,
Evaporating
pain
Delivering
demonically endangered and unclean ordinaries from their previous prisons,
Posturing
himself for real love that’s in line with his self-sacrificing vision for this
mission
No wonder word
spread like wildfire
Over the whole
entire region
And yet as a
legion of pursuing public descended
Only one thing
was defended, and that fiercely
What would his
response be?
He got up, and
slipped away, at the very dawning of the day, still dark it was so early,
disappeared silently
When to a place
solitary
And there
paused the race and prayer and praise embraced, time just to simply Be
And hear his
Father’s voice
Amidst a million
muddled routes and options he must make the choice, and as he listened he
indeed heard clearly
So when finally
reached and his sanctuary breached He said ‘Onward, to preach. We go to
Galilee’
These strange
examples, only three,
But what of
you?
And what of me?
A life of
mad-dash, pace that changes like whiplash, racing phases and cash-splash or
cash-strapped activity,
Craftily
code-worded busyness to mean effective, output the only objective, is this our
‘meaningful’ ministry?
Or, just
perhaps…
Is the non-stop
merely sin?
Does the
Father’s voice speak small within a room of four walls that have shrunken in,
been hidden, trapped by the noise of the din?
Could that possibly be?
The obvious
utmost principle of the King?
Prayerful
input, head-space, rest-space, listening
Filled afresh
for the next phase and yes then racing
Productivity
not denying, deferring or displacing,
But balanced
patterns that led to the wondrous win
These subtle,
strange examples three
But what of
you?
And what of me?
What will be
the song that my life sings?
Unmeasured
non-stop busyness,
Or principled
patterns of prayerful vividness,
Which one
brings my best offering…?
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