In the Resting

In the Resting No fuss in the faith Copyright Doug Blair, Waterloo, ON, 2019

Psalm 131: Weaning of Spirit

Things too high for me

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Will often get the bill Foolish and untimely prayer That faith might quick fulfil.

Perhaps just chasing pipe dreams As other saints have done Forgetting God is personal A plan for every One. So why the sweat for “copy-cat” And why presumptuous airs?

He simply wants to love on me Relieve the cries and cares.

An anxious weaning baby

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So fattened at the breast.

Must now withdraw And wait a while And calm with quiet and rest.

There is much more Just down the pipe And He will show the Way To one made patient, still, subdued And trusting day by day.

The Hiss (Isaiah 7: 18)

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God will simply whistle And help comes to the table Scans the far horizons For one that gets His heart Lands upon a village A home, a hearth, a hero Jars him with a vision That gives the job its start.

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Here we all perspire so As if to help Almighty All is well in motion So why the panic’s push?

Quiet now, and listen He may be at your doorstep Bright tomorrow’s calling Just settle down, and hush.

A Crazy Calling?

The years and years we laboured To give our girl a start, Before the burly fisherman

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Arrived to steal her heart, Come to me now and will not give me rest.

Capernaum is stirring, A prophet is in town; And one whose deeds and novel creeds Are gaining much renown; But this one may disturb my daughter’s nest!

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For, Simon he has beckoned To study at his feet, To bless the poor and hurting ones Found daily in the street; And Simon says he will rise to the test.

So seemingly uncaring For comforts fought and won?

With muscle, wit and honest grit, Dear fisherman, dear son?

Will you abandon all? Why, you’re possessed!

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This feverish discomfort Which, sadly now I bear, Because I fear your future, dears; Because I truly care; Is more than just a mother sore depressed.

“And would you bring the prophet To see me in this way?

Whatever will I offer?

Whatever will I say?

Now really, Simon Peter, I’m half-dressed!”

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“Why…Jesus, you’re most welcome; The pleasure is all mine; But that you’d found me stronger, But that you’d come to dine.

But come now, enter, sit down, take your rest.”

And now his hand extended, His manly gaze serene, His gentle touch is helping much; His likes I’ve never seen.

Oh Jesus, rabbi, healer, I’ve been blessed!

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There really must be something, Unworthy as I am, That I might do to bless him too, To thank this princely man.

No wonder that the others are impressed.

“Lord, would you take my family To labour at your call, To render trade and house and heart, To volunteer their all?

It must be such a future holds the best.”

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Taste and See

It’s not just a taste That I’m after Some look-see Evangel to try.

For that will not hold Me to Holy,

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Or shield me when Harm passes by.

Consider the Friend Of all sinners, And imitate Him if I can?

For none ever spake Life the wiser, Or comforted more Than this Man.

But knowing myself,

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That I waiver And daily lose sight of the goal.

I wonder could God Ever love me?

Unfailingly Harbour my soul?

And then comes the truth Like the sun-rise.

The Father has drawn me to come.

Has seen me full into The sheepfold.

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Has made me a gift To His Son.

And with these new Eyes of the Spirit This chosen child finally finds rest.

And daily delivers The service A thankful heart Renders the best.

Psalm 34 8 Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—

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how good God is.

Blessed are you who run to him.

9 Worship God if you want the best; worship opens doors to all his goodness.

10 Young lions on the prowl get hungry, but God-seekers are full of God. (The Message)

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Faith’s Composition

He makes me A strong tower A wall undivided A stream for pause Or a Word in season.

He builds me

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A considered stone Placed patiently A beggar become bountiful A source for others In humility.

He sings over me Refrains of love And protection Recompense in my journey Promise of a precious Home for like-minded.

Doubters and detractors Left outside As they wish.

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​(Read and then read again Zephaniah 3)

He’s a Father

So stuck on form And holy words The conversation strained Will He oblige In this dark need With all its tears and pain?

The Old Book showed A God who fought And judgment hard imposed

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For Israel’s need And witchcraft’s end And storms for those opposed.

But He has always shared The heart of Spirit and of Son And how He wept At Calvary’s pain And watched His Christ undone.

And every chat on Galilee’s shore With happy children warmed Showed Father’s love Just like His Son’s And all our dread disarmed.

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