Constancy

Constancy With the all-powerful One alongside Copyright Doug Blair, Waterloo ON, 2019

One Thirty-nine All about me And everywhere You show your power You show your care

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And I a package Small and low But cherished yes And made to grow.

I hardly grasp The plans you make That draw me in With no mistake.

In places high Or waters deep When full alert Or catching sleep You have me And you smile with joy You knew the one Womb-formed a boy.

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But should I fear That watchful Eye Whene’er I stumble When others cry?

NO… child I am Child of the King Whose days have number Whose heart must sing.

(Psalm 139)

Small

Strange it may sound In a world full of striving “Yes, look at me.

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I have gained and will be Noticed of men At the top of the ladder.

Do what it takes And admirers will see.”

Yet there’s a place To discard all pretension Breathe ever freely Released from sin’s thrall.

Mountain or forest Or sea coast all glorious Showing God’s grandeur For there, I am small.

Small, and so thankful That He knows my journey.

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Small, and in wonder That He has my back.

Small, there’s a comfort In trusting and leaning Safe from the arrows Of Evil’s attack.

But does He fathom My daily dilemmas?

But does He know The hurts people will bring?

That’s when my eyes turn To Christ ‘neath the Olives Begging for rescue; Of Him will I sing.

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Showers

They fall even though We are stricken With pains and dilemma So raw.

The moments when God Mounts the teardrop And comes down

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To thrill us with awe.

When He says My child I am able To bring you To Holiness Shore To fill you with Love and Compassion For places you’ve Not gone before.

For my blessed will Takes the reigns here And Jesus my Son Shows the way.

The love that we share Showers o’er you Believe this

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Rare sanctified Day.

Spike

They called him Spike. Just like a nail. Totally bald. It was the chemo you know. Been that way for the last eighteen months. Now entering his junior year at McHale Secondary.

Spike had been one of the most determined light weights on the wrestling team. Seems as if he had a unique twist to get himself out of every potential pin situation. His Coach Bradford could only shake his head as the little guy kept on coming out on top. But this year the treatments had really slowed him down. It had become necessary to make him the Team Manager, shouting encouragement and tips from off the mat.

Another teacher, Miss Wyatt had a parallel affection for Spike. She knew that he was brilliant in his powers of expression, but holding back somewhat for fear of coming off as the “Browner” before his peers. No matter. This one would make it, if only the body would hold together.

The tidbits of exceptional prose and insight he offered in English class were some of Miss Wyatt’s signal moments in teaching. She fulfilled the role of Soul-Mother for several, not having ever enjoyed a family of her own.

Spike had a secret friend, Charlie. The man received chemotherapy at the same clinic. Discussions in the waiting room had covered a number of topics, sports, favourite fiction, travel experiences, and surprisingly enough, the Gospels. Charlie had been a sales manager at a car dealership for over twenty years. The thought of his wife Caroline would 8

always bring a smile to his face. They had had no children. The cancer had pretty much taken Charlie off his feet. He began to ask the big questions. No one in his family had ever been stricken. Tell me God…what’s fair.

But a change had come. He had relinquished. Decided that no one was more worthy of the words compassionate, loving, true…no one more than God. It was clear to Spike that the man was in earnest and had a quality of life and thought each day higher and better than most others.

Spike took a serious look at Luke’s Gospel, wrote an essay for Miss Wyatt on the scenario of Jesus’ mountaintop transfiguration followed by descent again into the valley of suffering for ones like the epileptic boy (Luke 9: 28-45).

He heard of a Gospel concert coming to the local auditorium. Got a couple of his wrestling buddies to go with him. There was Spike, bald and shining, smiling radiantly, hands upraised as he gave his best in the praise choruses.

Unknown to him, Coach Bradford had caught wind of the plan and was seated with his wife ten rows back, not wanting to cramp Spike’s style.

Ripples of joy were emanating from that one pebble dropped into the pool of suffering with a grin and a hope. That pebble had only fourteen months left this side of Glory.

Fearsome Our Champion 9

The Glory holds fear And deliverance The might shakes the walls Of the world The fire cleanses all To the utmost

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Where doubt and Detraction were hurled.

And idols are stumped In their silence And nations must Yield to His power.

And this is the God Reigning over us With keeping Love Right to this hour.

The upright owe little To diligence Nor can they Earth’s evil withstand

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But there is our Shepherd With all Light and Love The flock kindly Kept in His hand. ​(Psalm 97)

Quiet

Quieten me And make my ill thought Words to cease Seems that I must Speak it all

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To gain the heart’s release.

But you have riches In the silence Wisely steeped Your whispering true And of itself Sweet cause to weep.

Constancy Yes it thrills to know You’re right here With power and with peace The same God

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Who moved waters For the Hebrew slaves’ release Who hid the running David From a jealous monarch’s rage Who fed prophet Elijah By the crows for many days And You held to the promise That a Saviour would arise From the House of Bread Quaint Bethlehem Where angels filled the skies And for me you remain constant Such a blessing such a calm That no threat would

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Snatch me hopeless From your gaze and healing balm So I think on all the stories Of your rescues and your care And I face the day with laughter That my constant God is there.

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