A New Love sourced in Heaven copyright Doug Blair, Waterloo ON, 2017
Hear me Child Every time I speak And you attend Love issues forth My love Not the one Learned in Mother's embrace Nor at a nuptial altar Nor lifting up Comrades at arms But my nature Enjoyed eternally With Son and Spirit Embracing all existence Honestly addressing Good bad and Deferred. Offering you Direction and courage Selfless currency For blessing Such as you never Realized before. Even my Son Would not quickly
Reveal it to you The Golden Rule Was still an expression Couched in you first “As you would have It done unto you...� That's what He preached Remember? And listeners thought They heard it true. But the better was Still pending Took a capture And a helplessness Strenuously endured By Father and Son And prophesies rang true And Son was glorified And Spirit was sent. And you have heard that Spirit is love, joy, peace. Long-suffering, faith And other things Truly novel to the planet. Thus love arrived Vibrant and unprecedented Accepting the unlovely Or strenuous or humiliating All for mercy's sake And for fellowship And reproduction Yielding Triune wonders and Birthing joy as never before Consolation's new currency Spreading like Happy milkweed aloft In spring's radiant morn.
The Thirteenth The Apostle Paul wrote in this chapter of the First Letter to Corinthians concerning the greatest of New Covenant opportunities. Love. A meticulous Jew overflowing with rules and regulations of Moses' way, he had chased down the followers of the Galilean. He thought this a singular program of obedience to Jehovah. But a thunderbolt of revelation had come to him on the Damascus Road (Acts 9). Conversion to Jesus was almost instant and a new life and mission born.
Paul could see that the power and compassion of Messiah depended upon love, forgiveness and heavenly composure. He addressed ideals of faith, knowledge, sacrifice and utterance as missing the mark without God's kind of love in operation. Humble. Forgiving. Patient. Courteous. Dignified. Speaking and believing the good report. Against any and all adversity. Charged with such energy and joy he proved indomitable for the duration of his mission, facing even ultimate martyrdom at Rome with the glad expectation of a larger sphere in the presence of Jesus. (2 Corinthians 5)
Distressed Flock
Drudgery in this walk And dry the place I know that we are tired The bugs, the heat The grass turned brown Oh for those days inspired. We left the fold And village cheer Our Shepherd on ahead With hopes of high And verdant times No sense of doubt or dread. The Man before Would sing and march And watering holes unearth Quite safe with Him As wolf lurked round We thrived in second-birth. Then clouds had come And drizzling tests The path turned mud Quite slick And some would fall Their lungs awash And most lost heart when sick. The Shepherd still Would share this test And doctor when He could And bring to mind Much hallowed verse As we knew that we should.
A single day of sun Told us His hope Could not be quelled. But soon a drought Burned off all damp Parched bellies Ached and yelled. So this the goal? We asked ourselves A string of stretching trials? Where gone the song And sky-blue hopes Sweet fellowship and smiles? But then He comes Right in the face Caressing stricken heads And points beyond... The high plateau With stream-fed grassy beds. Each sheep takes heart Their Man before Has brought them To the goal And worth all trials His healing smiles His rich empowering soul.
Declared With Gladness
I weep I'm a child of the Mighty For reasons best known above A beggar I came To His holy name So wondrous in truth and love. I sing As I share in a family Who saw threatening seas divide And marched through the sand To lush promised land Where other folk stepped aside.
I gasp As I follow a captive Who did nothing more than bless The thorns and the jail The lash and the nail Men hating His righteousness. I wait And its all for His answers The King of my heart must arrive He fashions a place Beyond time and space Where ransomed souls laugh and thrive. I stand And proclaim hope to others Who know not their root or end While Christ holds the key To set them all free And prove Him the dearest Friend.
Following Love's Whisper
Really were charged up Over that last exchange Weren't you? Sensing my pleasure And my calling Simple as it may seem. Now I suspect You want to race forward Into more. Don't be disappointed When I say “slow down� Absorption takes time. The patient walk Is the quality walk Obedient and finely-tuned. My voice is not Always that clear. Perhaps a single scripture A word from a friend
A stumbling addressed And corrected A song lyric A walk in the park. My agencies are Without limit. But they are all Of me, from me Right purposes in you. And you will come To recognize my whisper Nothing is just coincidence When I adopt And take up in Hand. I called You answered. I rewarded You gave thanks. I am Love You are relinquishing Doubt. A workable partnership Yes?
Of Caesar's Household
(Taken from The High Calling, Meditations on Philippians by J.H. Jowett, 1909, Fleming H. Revell Company) All the saints salute you, especially they that are of Caesar's household" (Phil. 4:22) "That is a very wonderful thing that the general river of Christian courtesy should be flowing from the hard precincts of imperial lust and tyranny... Here is a clean, clear river streaming out of the very centre of a poisonous swamp. Here is a sweet spring lifting its healthful waters in the bitter waste. Here is a white lily spreading its radiant purity above a very noisome bed. This is the kind of miracle to arrest and startle the world. Goodness in unexpected places! ...A commissioner of one of our great London dailies has recently been exploring some of the awful howling wastes of London's slums. He went into one court, and up one terrible flight of stairs, where gin and sweat and swearing and putridity were horribly commingled, and in the very thick of it all he heard a woman's sweet, clear, triumphant voice singing, "We thank Thee, O our Father, for all things bright and good." Yes, and the commissioner discovered that she was a saint indeed. But how adverse
the environment. Where did the lovely fern find even the requisite pinch of friendly earth? God knows, and he provided it. It seems as though God's plants can laugh at circumstances, that they can sink strange roots right through their immediate setting, and reach such marvelous resources that their inhospitable environment counts for nothing."
Fragile Flower in India
I knew of the name of Amy Carmichael from having read a number of her inspirational poems. I did not know of her solid Ulster Christian upbringing. Her repeated attempts to enter missionary work compromised by fragile health. Her ultimate settling in the Tinnevelly District of southern India. Her establishment of the orphanage and school known as the Dohnavur Institute. Her adoption, almost entirely, of Indian culture. Her rich sense of family, though remaining unmarried. The rescue of many very young local girls from the practice of Hindu temple prostitution and servitude. The thorough and seemingly strict program of lessons, chores and religious exercise. The frequency of disease and untimely death for the children. The number of rescues proving the diligence of their attending "angels" (fevers, delirium, choking accidents, cobras, returning influences of the old dark life). The falling accident which through complications rendered Amy bed-ridden for the final twenty years of her life. The change in assignment from meals, maintenance, lessons and admissions to writing, counseling and communing. For all of this information and many more stirring words from Amy (1867-1951) I am indebted to Elizabeth R. Skoglund and her book Amma: The Life and Words of Amy Carmichael, 1994 Baker Book House Company. What profound questions were asked by the rescued children, girls and boys! Where do the dead go? Is it a place of comfort or confusion? What is love? Is it only that which was offered to me by Hindu masters? Does the God Christ have power to change my angry ways? Where are all the flowers, music, parades and excitement in your religion? Such were the challenges faced by Amma and her dedicated staff, many of whom were orphans at Dohnavur in the first instance. The author Skoglund makes very clear the understanding which motivated Amy in rendering comfort, "to come alongside and strengthen". There was to be no coddling or leniency, no un-confessed sin, no
missed Hour of Prayer. But there were occasions of fun involving music, crafts, readings, outings in nature, swimming and the celebration of each child's Coming Day (the day of admission, birthdays often remaining unknown). Of comfort, Amy made the following comparison: "Who can tell how the parakeelia plant of Central Australia can resist wind, frost, heat, and in a tract of country where there is no surface water, remain green after three years' drought; so green, so full of life-giving water that horses and cattle feeding upon it need no water. We have a wonderful God, the God of all comfort, who comforteth us in all our tribulations, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God. He can turn the least of us into a parakeelia- or better, far better, for a parable cannot show everything, He can comfort us so that we know how to discover to others the parakeelia's secret Spring." It is noteworthy that in preparing for her life of toil, hardship, care-giving, stamina and ultimate submission, Amy Carmichael drew heavily from the thoughts of Samuel Rutherford, Hudson Taylor, Geraldine Taylor, Charles Spurgeon, F. B. Meyer, H.C.G. Moule and Andrew Murray. Passing on now one of her poems: Thou art my Lord Who slept upon the pillow, Thou art my Lord Who calmed the furious sea; What matter beating wind and tossing billow If only we are in the boat with Thee. Hold us in quiet through the age-long minute While Thou art silent, and the wind is shrill; Can the boat sink while Thou, dear Lord, art in it? Can the heart faint that resteth in Thy will? (Edges of His Ways, London, S.P.C.K. 1955) I think yet one more would be appropriate: Not that He doth explain The mystery that baffleth; but a sense Husheth the quiet heart, that far, far hence
Lieth a field set thick with golden grain, Wetted in seedling days by many a rain. The End, it will explain.
Let Little Children...
He hugged the child So meek and mild With warm embrace And those around True kindness found In this One's face. The boy sat still As if to thrill In stories told Of God above Of shepherd love Found in the fold. But men had rules Punctilious fools All tied in knots Had lost the trust Both clean and just Found in youth's thoughts They tried this Man Of God-sent Plan With problems rare He showed the boy And loyal joy True Answer...there. “Friends simplify Don't say that I Present harsh test It's not a fight Just hold on tight And share my best.�
Mercy and Truth
(shining out from Psalm 86) “Plenteous in mercy� It sounds like a tree Abounding in good fruit Especially for me And I don't deserve it I know where I've been The dark thoughts assailing The trouble I've seen Somehow You look past it And smile on your child Bestowing your goodness On one so defiled The words still escape me I long for your ear My prayers often awkward Regardless you hear And send me some token That evil must yield That fretting is pointless That you've won the field And lately you whisper Some deeper truths still I love you my Captain And yield to your will. Psalm 86: 3-5 Note: And what is this yieldedness? It does not take us out of everyday requirements. It simply comes alongside and says 'you can turn the other cheek, you can represent me here, you can be my co-worker in a kind word, a help offered, a comfort ministered, an honest word put in for my Son's good work, a darkness shunned.'
Psalm Forty-Eight
Zion is all glorious A testimony sure A dwelling-place for righteousness Befitting God so pure The earthly roads Go elsewhere Reserved for pomp and trade And tinsel tyrants Tremble As brilliant towers are laid. They seek to stop The progress of pilgrims Lifting praise They fear another King Prevails To bless for endless days. His judgments all Are worthy Despondent ones Now cheer. As yet I breathe Lord grant me leave To help the hurting hear.
Old Friends*
Don't ask why I do this Alone on this bench The City alive with new pace. This once was my corner I served up the meals But now I can't click to one face. I'm just old and past it I once worked long hours My wife seeing diners well fed. But now it's the paper And grand-kids to watch And most of the old friends all dead. But you Sir, yes you there I seem to recall Your face from a happier time. The sport shop your baby The laughs that we shared Your business familiar with mine. Yes...Jack, now I have it You'd come through the back And chat up the cook and the girls And order “the special� And tell a clean joke. Remember that kindlier world? (*George Kerhoulis and Jack Blair and former ways in downtown London. When service, friendliness and courtesy mattered. Love to recall it.)