Bushwhacked

 

©Jeanne E Webster — All Rights Reserved

I hate sneaky people, things or animals. They just give me the creeps; you just can’t trust them. They’re usually up to no good.  It had been meandering around my bedroom for weeks probably, since I had last deep-cleaned the room: down from the ceiling, across to the bed lamp, behind the bed table, in-and-out of the headboard railings, ending up in that little quiet dark corner under the chest-o-drawers.

“Aha, there you are!” I hollered and the spider was soon in nether land.

How did I know it was there? How did I find its whereabouts? It left its mark. Those feeble, almost invisible, thin threads were the telltale signs; they were the dead giveaway to its secretive presence.

So too God knows and sees our dark wanderings. He knows the telltale signs: using loose language, lingering over some new juicy gossip, lying, resentment against others and other web tracks of ungodly character.  “Aha, there you are!”

Let’s not walk in darkness, living for those moments in obscure, murky corners. Paul succors us with these words to the Philippians:

“Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended, but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forth unto those things which are before. I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

“Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded. And if in any thing you be otherwise minded, God shall reveal even this to you. Nevertheless, where we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule. Let us mind the same thing. Brethren, be followers together of me and mark them which walk so as ye have us for an example.”

Phil. 3:13-17

Re-echoing Tale

 

Re-echoing Tale
© Jeanne E Webster. All rights reserved

Repeatedly it has been said
It was the “best and worst of times”
Discordantly, wisdom and absurdity
Sang redundant rhymes.

A tale of two cities, a contrast stark,
Between heaven and earth,
Perhaps one day may give way
To a cataclysmic rebirth.

It’s true today as it was back then
In those eighteen hundred years
Light and Darkness administrate
While Hope balances Fear.

Technological sprawl litters homes
And clutters one’s workplace
As ghastly suicides and boredom
Slither at a haunting pace.

Paradoxically, religious avow their creeds
Yet God teeters on His throne
Deviant sexuality lusts ecstatically
While AIDS and STDs gnaw bones.

Is human dignity recoverable
And standards of right and wrong;
Have we forgotten who we are…
And to Whom we truly belong?

Dogmatic agnosticism imprisons,
And spirit and mind decay
Wandering tediously, life’s passage echoes
“We’ve forgotten the way!”

Long ago Truth was manifested
Bearing witness of a place to stand
A mystery revealed, heaven reached down
A mighty rescuing Hand.

The true Light shone in the darkness
And the darkness knew it not;
How great that Light! How great the cost!
Christ’s death our souls has bought!

A Mystery Revealed

finger2

 

 

© Jeanne E Webster.  All Rights Reserved.

.

Repeatedly it’s been said, “It was the best and worst of times,”

Discordantly, wisdom and absurdity sang redundant rhymes.

.

A tale of two cities, a contrast stark, between heaven and earth,

Perhaps one day may give way to a cataclysmic rebirth.

.

It’s true today as it was back in the eighteen hundred years,

Light and Darkness administrate, while Hope balances Fears.

.

Technological sprawl litters homes and clutters one’s workplace,

As ghastly suicides and boredom slither at a haunting pace.

.

Paradoxically, religious avow their creeds, yet God teeters on His throne.

Deviant sexuality lusts ecstatically, while AIDS and STDs gnaw bones.

.

Is human dignity recoverable, and standards of right and wrong?

Have we forgotten who we are…and to Whom we truly belong?

.

Dogmatic agnosticism imprisons, and spirit and mind decay;

Wandering tediously, life’s passage echoes, “We’ve forgotten the way!”

.

Long ago Truth was manifested, bearing witness of a place to stand;

A mystery revealed, heaven reached down a mighty helping hand.

.

The true Light shone in the darkness, and the darkness knew it not.

How great that light!

How great the cost!

Christ’s death our souls has bought!

A Mystery

light

…and then there was LIGHT
© Jeanne E Webster. All Rights Reserved.

Repeatedly it’s been said, “It was the best and worst of times,”
Discordantly, wisdom and absurdity sang redundant rhymes.

A tale of two cities, a contrast stark, between heaven and earth,
Perhaps one day may give way to a cataclysmic rebirth.

It’s true today as it was back in the eighteen hundred years,
Light and Darkness administrate, while Hope balances Fears.

Technological sprawl litters homes and clutters one’s workplace,
As ghastly suicides and boredom slither at a haunting pace.

Paradoxically, religious avow their creeds, yet God teeters on His throne.
Deviant sexuality lusts ecstatically, while AIDS and STDs gnaw bones.

Is human dignity recoverable, and standards of right and wrong?
Have we forgotten who we are…and to Whom we truly belong?

Dogmatic agnosticism imprisons, and spirit and mind decay;
Wandering tediously, life’s passage echoes, “We’ve forgotten the way!”

Long ago Truth was manifested, bearing witness of a place to stand;
A mystery revealed, heaven reached down a mighty helping hand.

The true Light shone in the darkness, and the darkness knew it not.
How great that light! How great the cost! Christ’s death our souls has bought!

Aha!

spider

© Jeanne E Webster. All rights reserved and observed.

.

I hate sneaky people, things or animals. They give me the creeps! You just can’t trust them; they’re usually up to no good.

IT had been meandering around my bedroom for weeks probably, down from the ceiling, across to the bed lamp, behind the bed table, in-and-out of the headboard railings, ending up in that little quiet dark corner under the chest-o-drawers.

“Aha, there you are!” I hollered. The dastardly spider was soon in the nether land.

How did I know it was there? How did I find its whereabouts? It left its mark. Those feeble, almost invisible, thin threads were the telltale signs; they were the dead giveaway to its secretive presence.

So too God knows and sees our dark wanderings. He knows the telltale signs: using loose language, lingering over some new juicy gossip, lying, resentment against others and other web tracks of ungodly character.

“Aha, there you are!”

Let’s not walk in darkness, living for those moments in the dark corners. Paul succors us with these words to the Philippians:

“Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended, but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forth unto those things which are before. I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

“Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded. And if in any thing you be otherwise minded, God shall reveal even this to you. Nevertheless, where we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule. Let us mind the same thing. Brethren, be followers together of me and mark them which walk so as ye have us for an example.”

Phil. 3:13-17

Sweet Reprieve

hugnn

© 2014 Jeanne E Webster. All rights reserved and observed

Lying awake, wrapped in the darkness
Thoughts are the only sure reality
Pulsating outward amidst the silence

Let rest come
A sojourn from the pain
Banish the chords of dismay

A sip of cool water
A chip of melted ice
Swallow softly and ease the strife of the night

The sun shall rise in the new day at dawn
Comfort oneself and snuggle up tight
Praise the Lord the bearer of Light.

Sweet reprieve!

Dark Thinking

????????????

Dark Thinking

©2014 Jeanne E Webster.  All rights reserved

 

“You’ll always be my little girl.”

 

What did that mean?

 

Memories still tumble down

That rocky hill of childhood;

Strange things . . . scary things

Deep dark and screamy things

 

. . . thought the little girl.

 

Rock, rock . . . thump and bump

Three kids sat all in a row;

The sofa became their “carni” ride

They rocked and rolled and screamed!

 

Back and forth with such hefty force

They drove holes into the wall.

Memories haunt the little girl

Even though she’s now grown old.

 

“You’ll always be my little girl.”?

There were no hugs or comforting words;

Those came from Gramma’s arms and heart

Not this mommy dear.

 

Can’t fathom those dark blurbs from the past

What did they all mean?

The thumps and rocking so hard?

All part of the ugly scene?

 

Just childish images of a bogeyman,

A phantom father’s brutalities?

Can’t open that door . . . and what’s more . . .

The little girl doesn’t want to!