can you believe it. There is actually a thing already on the planet that is capable of
running on organic materials
refines it's own fuel
runs with perfect efficiency
produces no harmful emissions
has an average operating life of 70 plus years
needs no wires
no electricity
no micro chips
can repair its self
can make copies of its self with totally unique characteristics
no other engine, computer, machine or device has the combined abilities to even compare to its smallest part
it is life
every living thing, including the smallest gnat has more intricate and dumbfounding displays of wonder and mystery than the greatest of human inventions.
human inventions are all products of this thing--LIFE
we are not so smart if we keep in mind that something utterly incomprehensible, our Creator, is infinately above the designs of men and we will never ever find a human feat that will compete with the awesome miracle of even bacteria
we are not accidents
someone really big and smart designed us.
Athiests, are you really that gullible to believe that we were unintentional?
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Stay-at-Home
When my child is grown and far away
and I miss my son so near
will I gladly relish the money I made
or shed a regretful tear?
Friday, March 9, 2007
dog fight
So, I think about the lie that is world is preaching about how to find "happiness". It preaches that loosing weight, getting a successful career, being famous, or getting rich for will make me feel "happy". All this outward reaching only leaves me with discontent because it abandons the real center of what will give us joy. The peace of God is only attainable through turning towards the fire within ( the seed of the Holy Spirit which is present in all believers) and feeding it. My friend Adrian Almanza once shared with me an idea that helps me visualize this truth...
Inside everyone who loves Jesus are two dogs and they fight. One is a white dog ( the spirit of God) and the a black dog (our flesh, sin, and worldliness). They fight over our mind, will and emotions. Which dog is winning in our lives? Is the Spirit of God defeating our carnality? If not perhaps we should look at the dogs. Often our "spirit" dog is emaciated, starving, and too weak to stand--in fact it appears to be dead. The vultures are circling. Looking at the "flesh"dog. We notice that he is large, muscles bulging, full of power and tenacity...
Why are the dogs inside of us such ill matched opponents? The question is:
Which one are we feeding?
All the TV trash, all the idle gossip and slander, the refusal to pray or read the bible, the yuk we consume feeds the flesh and starves the spirit. Are we setting our minds on what is pure and holy? Or are we exposing ourselves to what is detestable. Oil and water do not mix. One will be displaced.
Who will win the dog fight?
Inside everyone who loves Jesus are two dogs and they fight. One is a white dog ( the spirit of God) and the a black dog (our flesh, sin, and worldliness). They fight over our mind, will and emotions. Which dog is winning in our lives? Is the Spirit of God defeating our carnality? If not perhaps we should look at the dogs. Often our "spirit" dog is emaciated, starving, and too weak to stand--in fact it appears to be dead. The vultures are circling. Looking at the "flesh"dog. We notice that he is large, muscles bulging, full of power and tenacity...
Why are the dogs inside of us such ill matched opponents? The question is:
Which one are we feeding?
All the TV trash, all the idle gossip and slander, the refusal to pray or read the bible, the yuk we consume feeds the flesh and starves the spirit. Are we setting our minds on what is pure and holy? Or are we exposing ourselves to what is detestable. Oil and water do not mix. One will be displaced.
Who will win the dog fight?
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
more poetry
Conspiracy
This morning my rooster
Interrupted my undersea
rollercoaster ride with the seven dwarfs
So I rolled over and smacked it's plastic head.
Nine minutes later
“squawk! squawk! squawk!”
So, I smacked him again.
“squawk!”
slap!
“squawk!”
smack!
Finally fed up, I left for work...
But, that obnoxious devil
Sent a telegraph via high-line
To all the other chickens
And they conspired to get me fired!
Wouldn’t you know it?
My boss’s little chicken,
That mean little beast
Was waiting on my boss’s desk
With a big fat lie on her face.
My Own Space
Tucked up and away
From the noisy rumble
The daily roll and tumble
My twilight treetop bungalow
Each night I wearily go
To sleep in a little girl's bed
To rest my spinning head
No ears to hear me laughing
No eyes to see me dancing
Above the grind and measly place
To gaze upon a paper face
Peaceful planet far away
In His palm I gently sway
And, rest for yet another day.
“Rock-a-bye, daughter
In the treetop
When the wind blows
Your world will be rocked
When your back breaks
And your tears start to fall
I will come running
And handle it all.”
My Blue America
With a humble pen
And repentant paper,
I write of America,
Home of the Takers.
Comfortable
In my small town grind,
So deaf to the Truth
And injustice behind
My blue America.
Home of the proud
Land of the Free,
But compromise binds us
With materialism and greed.
Two million people
In prison this year,
The sacrifice of family
In pursuit of career,
Free sorcery,
deceit! And much more!
Apathy, immorality,
I wonder what’s in store
For my blue America.
I’ve been raised
To love this land.
Our fathers came here
In the master’s hand.
But under the umbrella
Of patriotism and glory
We accept what we are given
And let hell write the story
Right here in my blue America.
Stop complaining,
And start restraining
The spirit of despair
Stop media quoting,
And start Bible voting,
In favor of love
And hope and care
Aren’t we just as guilty
As members of the jury?
We allow it to happen,
And then sit back and worry.
Here in my
Battle scarred,
Spiritually starved,
God forsaken,
Bigotry shaken,
Baby killing,
Blood spilling,
Self indulgent,
Black and
Blue America.
This morning my rooster
Interrupted my undersea
rollercoaster ride with the seven dwarfs
So I rolled over and smacked it's plastic head.
Nine minutes later
“squawk! squawk! squawk!”
So, I smacked him again.
“squawk!”
slap!
“squawk!”
smack!
Finally fed up, I left for work...
But, that obnoxious devil
Sent a telegraph via high-line
To all the other chickens
And they conspired to get me fired!
Wouldn’t you know it?
My boss’s little chicken,
That mean little beast
Was waiting on my boss’s desk
With a big fat lie on her face.
My Own Space
Tucked up and away
From the noisy rumble
The daily roll and tumble
My twilight treetop bungalow
Each night I wearily go
To sleep in a little girl's bed
To rest my spinning head
No ears to hear me laughing
No eyes to see me dancing
Above the grind and measly place
To gaze upon a paper face
Peaceful planet far away
In His palm I gently sway
And, rest for yet another day.
“Rock-a-bye, daughter
In the treetop
When the wind blows
Your world will be rocked
When your back breaks
And your tears start to fall
I will come running
And handle it all.”
My Blue America
With a humble pen
And repentant paper,
I write of America,
Home of the Takers.
Comfortable
In my small town grind,
So deaf to the Truth
And injustice behind
My blue America.
Home of the proud
Land of the Free,
But compromise binds us
With materialism and greed.
Two million people
In prison this year,
The sacrifice of family
In pursuit of career,
Free sorcery,
deceit! And much more!
Apathy, immorality,
I wonder what’s in store
For my blue America.
I’ve been raised
To love this land.
Our fathers came here
In the master’s hand.
But under the umbrella
Of patriotism and glory
We accept what we are given
And let hell write the story
Right here in my blue America.
Stop complaining,
And start restraining
The spirit of despair
Stop media quoting,
And start Bible voting,
In favor of love
And hope and care
Aren’t we just as guilty
As members of the jury?
We allow it to happen,
And then sit back and worry.
Here in my
Battle scarred,
Spiritually starved,
God forsaken,
Bigotry shaken,
Baby killing,
Blood spilling,
Self indulgent,
Black and
Blue America.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Wipe out?
I went to the Word, Spirit, Power Conference last night at Beltway. Wow, I was touched twice by the Holy Spirit. I still feel the "bubbles" in side of me. I am very glad I went. My mind is different today.
Monday, January 22, 2007
More Poems
My Own Space
Tucked up and away
From the noisy rumble
The daily roll and tumble
My twilight treetop bungalow
Each night I wearily go
To sleep in a little girls bed
To rest my spinning head
No ears to hear me laughing
No eyes to see me dancing
Above the grind and measly place
To gaze upon a paper face
Peaceful planet far away
In His palm I gently sway
And, rest for yet another day.
“Rock-a-bye, Kacy
In the treetop
When the wind blows
Your world will be rocked
When your back breaks
And your tears start to fall
I will come running
And handle it all.”
THE BREAK UP
I used to love you with
A passion that could
Shake the mountains and split he sea
And tame the lions of fear
I used to ache for strong arms that hold,
Quiet eyes to hush
And sweet words that seemed solid as stone
Now I am
Alone…
Now I ride the waves of the calendar
And saddle the ticking tock
And a love so pure for one swift glance
Has left me bleeding inside.
I say I’m happy.
I claim that I’m fine
But, the hole left buy you
Is haunted by time
Time, time, time and again.
I lose a love, I lose a friend
Day, by day by day by hour
I find no fresh water for this wilting flower
Minute by minute by minute by thought
I spent my love, what have I bought.
Not a “ you “ or a “he” or a him
Not a promise, a wish, a hope, or a whim
I’ve got plenty to do and
A Him to do for.
Papers to sign,
Books to explore…
But, the shake of the mountains
And the shush of the rain
Brings only more regret
Contemplation and pain
You know what I would change
In my reason and rhyme,
Nothing,
Nothing,
Nothing,
But time.
Tucked up and away
From the noisy rumble
The daily roll and tumble
My twilight treetop bungalow
Each night I wearily go
To sleep in a little girls bed
To rest my spinning head
No ears to hear me laughing
No eyes to see me dancing
Above the grind and measly place
To gaze upon a paper face
Peaceful planet far away
In His palm I gently sway
And, rest for yet another day.
“Rock-a-bye, Kacy
In the treetop
When the wind blows
Your world will be rocked
When your back breaks
And your tears start to fall
I will come running
And handle it all.”
THE BREAK UP
I used to love you with
A passion that could
Shake the mountains and split he sea
And tame the lions of fear
I used to ache for strong arms that hold,
Quiet eyes to hush
And sweet words that seemed solid as stone
Now I am
Alone…
Now I ride the waves of the calendar
And saddle the ticking tock
And a love so pure for one swift glance
Has left me bleeding inside.
I say I’m happy.
I claim that I’m fine
But, the hole left buy you
Is haunted by time
Time, time, time and again.
I lose a love, I lose a friend
Day, by day by day by hour
I find no fresh water for this wilting flower
Minute by minute by minute by thought
I spent my love, what have I bought.
Not a “ you “ or a “he” or a him
Not a promise, a wish, a hope, or a whim
I’ve got plenty to do and
A Him to do for.
Papers to sign,
Books to explore…
But, the shake of the mountains
And the shush of the rain
Brings only more regret
Contemplation and pain
You know what I would change
In my reason and rhyme,
Nothing,
Nothing,
Nothing,
But time.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Thinking about life
Even the TV shows that I watch point out that our society is totally self-centered and unhappy with life. We are the wealthiest people in the world and yet we all are taught to feel entitled to a glamourous life of ease and self-indulgence. I am realizing how deeply engrained this notion is in my own mind. I want to do without and simplify my life, yet the next moment I am worrying about my next hairstyle and contemplating splurging on a fancy salon because my thoughts are telling me, "go on, get the best, you deserve it."
I tell myself that selfishness is the opposite of Christ-like. Yet within the same breath, I naturally am considering "self" by imagining what living like that would cost me---or get me.
I had a really cool vision the other day. I imagined the head of Christ, like a doll's head, being matched with the "body of Christ". I know the etaphor "body of Christ"refers to the collection of all believers, but I would like to think that each little pocket of believers in an area is a body of Christ in it's self to a certain extent. So going along with my head picture, I tried to imagine what our "body" is wearing. Do we look and act like Christ? Are we dressed in shiny, flashy, and expensive clothes of cultural trends. Do we look like the humble servant shepard or like a Gospel pimp? Another "body" that we have is that of a morbidly obese middle aged man in a suit. Are we living a life of religious deeds and then living sordid lives of gluttony behind closed doors? Are we a contridiction? Sometimes the body might look like a clown. We promote the fools and nutcases who are saying ridiculous things and acting like complete back-woods loonies. They have become the icons of the modern evangelical church and the world is watching and laughing...
But, it's hard to fault a simple tunic and sandals. Not literally, but what I mean is this: Jesus didn't have a home or car. He didn't have a retirement account nor did he keep a deep-freeze full of food in case of a famine. He didn't self-indulge, he was all about self-denial. He wept with the mourning and challenged religious pridefulness.
I want the tunic and sandal life... Lord help me go against the flow..
I tell myself that selfishness is the opposite of Christ-like. Yet within the same breath, I naturally am considering "self" by imagining what living like that would cost me---or get me.
I had a really cool vision the other day. I imagined the head of Christ, like a doll's head, being matched with the "body of Christ". I know the etaphor "body of Christ"refers to the collection of all believers, but I would like to think that each little pocket of believers in an area is a body of Christ in it's self to a certain extent. So going along with my head picture, I tried to imagine what our "body" is wearing. Do we look and act like Christ? Are we dressed in shiny, flashy, and expensive clothes of cultural trends. Do we look like the humble servant shepard or like a Gospel pimp? Another "body" that we have is that of a morbidly obese middle aged man in a suit. Are we living a life of religious deeds and then living sordid lives of gluttony behind closed doors? Are we a contridiction? Sometimes the body might look like a clown. We promote the fools and nutcases who are saying ridiculous things and acting like complete back-woods loonies. They have become the icons of the modern evangelical church and the world is watching and laughing...
But, it's hard to fault a simple tunic and sandals. Not literally, but what I mean is this: Jesus didn't have a home or car. He didn't have a retirement account nor did he keep a deep-freeze full of food in case of a famine. He didn't self-indulge, he was all about self-denial. He wept with the mourning and challenged religious pridefulness.
I want the tunic and sandal life... Lord help me go against the flow..
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