Passion of a Warrior

December 27, 2015 by Be Holy

When did his passion begin?
Did it commence with the kiss
By which he bid his loved ones adieu.
Or did the call to battle
Bid him count the cost,
Shattering vanities and proud hoorahs,
With winter ice
Though veins,
Piercing to the marrow of bone.

The Call was always greater
Than one man’s valor or presumption.
Holier than Adam could undertake in rage,
Yet a young David found an “Amen”
Rising within his shepherd- breast,
Shielded by hope and faith
Born of a Savior,
Yet borne into battle
By the foal that carried Him forth.

All battles,
Waged for the souls of men,
Find common ground;
Friend and foe,
Dying side by side.
As grains numbered as the sand,
And the blood,
Bridle high at Armageddon,
Corpses piled and claiming
The best among us,
As generations of spent warriors’ might,
Trust to God
To judge the heart of every man,
And wear his colors in His raiment.

Memories, born as festering wounds,
Or toughened scars,
Mark the man and record the Passion.
No jot or tiddle forgotten,
Fingered on the ground,
Condemning only the Accurser.

Angels minister the balm of Gilead
As the dead live again,
And the living love
Through the Darkness.
Mended hearts,
Held to a measure,
Weighed on scales of Mercy.
Are blessed.
None forgotten,
All forgiven.

How long? How long?
Martyrs witness the passion of the warrior,
And place merited crown,
And victor’s wreathe,
As a new name resounds,
Pronounced by the Mouth of God.

I See You Through Tears

October 24, 2015 by Be Holy

I see You through tears,
Cascading as a cleansing waterfall,
Washing away,
And carrying away,
The deeds and impurities
Of the Old Man.

Virginal flesh as gift,
Are my arraignment.
Looking in the mirror,
I see me with my eyes,
But in faith,
I see You.

The taint and stain of Sin,
The mocking of the Accuser,
Can not touch me.
Here in Your arms,
Under Your Mantle.
I find rest.

Tent with me.
Cover me.
Grace me,
And transform me,
As a land restored
And fertile .

Let me hear the roar
Of the cleansing waterfall.
Drown out
With a holy whisper,
The remembrance of Egypt,
And the shame of slavery.

My tears remind me
Of the interior bath,
And healing balm,
The gracious gift of Your work
By Your Presence,
And Your ministries.

River of Life,
I have eyes only for You.
You carry me,
And sweep along with me,
Making holy,
All those I hold dear.

Enemy, Mine

September 17, 2015 by Be Holy

Oh, dear enemy,
How you bless me with opportunity,
For prayer,
For patience,
For trust in God,
And to implore His counsel.

You and I are called
To know and love
The Lord Jesus.
Without Him,
There is only Darkness,
And descent
Into greater and greater sin.

Abraham believed,
And it was credited to him,
As justice.
Moses promised the Prophet’s Day.
John the Baptist
Prepared His Way,
And recognized the Lamb
Who would be slain.

Oh, enemy mine,
As we engage in battle
For men’s’s souls,
Let us take care
Not to lose our own.

Abraham was the Father
Of a race,
Who would love
And serve the True God.
Moses was a trusted servant,
John was the best man,
Greater than all born of woman.

To these God revealed Himself.
Each had his day,
Then departed,
And made way,
That the Name of God
Revealed to Joseph
And the humble Virgin,
Might capture the hearts
Of the enemies of God,
Living in Sin.

Loving us,
While we were yet sinners,
He won the battle,
We now fight.
He is and will be the only victor,
With those who fear not recognize Him,
Rush to His Side,
And bow under his Banner
Of Love and Mercy.

O, enemy mine,
We were partners in Sin,
Let us become partners in Love,
Beneath the Cross of One,
Who reconciled the world
To "Abba" God