My King was born King. The Bible says He’s a Seven Way King. He’s the King of the Jews – that’s an Ethnic King. He’s the King of Israel – that’s a National King. He’s the King of righteousness. He’s the King of the ages. He’s the King of Heaven. He’s the King of glory. He’s the King of kings and He is the Lord of lords. Now that’s my King. Read the rest of this entry »

Good has become a lazy man’s word of late.

People use it when they are not bothered to look for a specific word to better describe something, or they simply have poor vocabulary.

When someone says he’s good, it could mean he’s fine.

Or that he’s all right, though not that great.

Or it could also mean that he’s not feeling that well, but still thinks he’s doing not too bad comparatively.

Or maybe, just maybe, it means he’s not feeling anything near good but he doesn’t want to tell you because he couldn’t, and he feels like his world has ended and he doesn’t know how to go on anymore.

__________________

So He said to him, “Why do you call Me good? No one is good but One, that is, God.

~Matthew 19:17

God is good.
God is good to me.
God is good to me all the time.

How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d;
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
“Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;”
Desires compos’d, affections ever ev’n,
Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav’n.
Grace shines around her with serenest beams,
And whisp’ring angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her th’ unfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,
For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins hymeneals sing,
To sounds of heav’nly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day.

~Alexander Pope (1688 – 1744), Eloisa to Abelard

For years, men of old had argued that the sun throws itself over us again and again. Along came Galileo and his blasphemous suggestion of otherwise.

Years of indoctrination assure me that he was right, but it sure doesn’t feel like it. Perhaps the stationary ground beneath my feet convinces me that it is perfectly alright to procrastinate.

As I frivoled my days away, I heard Time’s winged chariot hurrying near. I grabbed my watch and threw it away. I refuse to age.

24 years 11 months 30 days 5 hours 24 minutes.

Forever.

I realised that I’ve always loved you.

Five thousand miles away from you, and yet I couldn’t uncouple my mind from the thoughts of you.

Perhaps we are not too far apart after all.

We might never meet again.

But somewhere out there I loved you and you loved me in return.

Time is nothing.

To see my breath forms before me brings out the child in me.

And the treacherous wind puts a smile on my face, somehow.

Oh the stars in the sky, they remind me of the sparkle in your eyes.

At night, I can almost hear my thoughts in its deafening silence.

But are they really mine?

There isn’t much fanfare.
No pyrotechnics display.
No cheering crowds.
No light shining down from heaven.

Seems like the simplest of miracles;
Yet the most powerful.
Thousands of years of waged wars;
Defied in a split second.
The son comes home to the father.

No pyrotechnics display.
No cheering crowds.
No light shining down from heaven.

But yet unseen by naked eyes;
The whole heaven rejoices.

The whole heaven rejoices.