My mouth reveals my stinky hiding heart daily. Bob, is there help for my ‘every idle word?
Wrote these thoughts 2 days ago:
‘ Who can hear the Gardener ready to cut down trees that produce not blatantly rotten fruit but hard to detect (until the taste test) poor quality fruit from listening to hard to detect false prophets standing just outside strait small narrow path gates heralding any real Truth element except those in reference to narrow way things? -i.e. the ‘offence of the innocent scapegoat’-
Need fully painful pruning turns me naked and fruitless for a season with His silence, “teaching, rebuking, correcting, training & suffering”. I like to listen and applaud Truth, but apply will I? Help me Great Artist to mirror-look, remember AND continually practice. How can I be clean, not just from ‘superficial pollution’ but from my ‘core corruption’? Does not core corruption left untouched by Great One’s peculiar scapegoat Love eventually dangle poor quality sour fruit from my branches? Where are the heralds of Love & Peace who also blaze Wild at Heart over holiness, for without holiness…..? Thank You for Grace, Mercy and Mysterious Love forever unknowable yet knowable in the midst of “oh wretched man that I am”.
I look forward to ‘THE ART of BEING YOU’, thus far a timely shaker of Salt & Light shaking over my journey plate.
Artists Meditate, Contemplate & share excellent fruit found inside narrow gate places.
Oh yeah, & beware of pigs in tuxedos who core flatulate no matter how you dress them up.
another p.s. ! Hey bob, the photo/graphic reminds me of the color that red and blue mixed with a bit of yellow makes, like the red and blue that dripped from under the rib cage off the shank of the spear down to the ground, and the tears that were wept by a certain Artist looking over a bright candle/torch lit city full of darkness & pain at dusk and dawn stirring the troops guided by Your hand children with hands clasped kneeling low at the foot of ole Plumbline No man knows the day as Hourglass Sands run low stand still firm and true To the One who commands with whispers from within As sickle winged hawks soar follow the tracks from eternity inside where Dad holds our hand where Red and Blue mingled to Crimson as yellow Fire builds, burns, discerns gently strokes His lambs as Temple whips fly while Tears doth flow like grains of sand running down the Hour Glass-Man. As soldiers wait, still, swiftly to and fro in ones, twos & squadrons of 4 guided by Your hand Where ‘window-sil spikes’ held Aslan high driven by you and I Now childrens hands clasped standing tall Plumbline angles, towers over big ‘Gee Eight and Twenty Summits’
no higher than the hole in the ground where Red and Blue mingled down to children now dancing the glorious crown on The Lion and The Lamb Broken-hearted One Who builds, burns, discerns gently strokes His lambs with Temple loaves and fishes
sustaining and stirring the troops guided by Your hand here on the ground beside Hour Glass-Man……..ahhh, breath!
My mouth reveals my stinky hiding heart daily. Bob, is there help for my ‘every idle word?
Wrote these thoughts 2 days ago:
‘ Who can hear the Gardener ready to cut down trees that produce not blatantly rotten fruit but hard to detect (until the taste test) poor quality fruit from listening to hard to detect false prophets standing just outside strait small narrow path gates heralding any real Truth element except those in reference to narrow way things? -i.e. the ‘offence of the innocent scapegoat’-
Need fully painful pruning turns me naked and fruitless for a season with His silence, “teaching, rebuking, correcting, training & suffering”. I like to listen and applaud Truth, but apply will I? Help me Great Artist to mirror-look, remember AND continually practice. How can I be clean, not just from ‘superficial pollution’ but from my ‘core corruption’? Does not core corruption left untouched by Great One’s peculiar scapegoat Love eventually dangle poor quality sour fruit from my branches? Where are the heralds of Love & Peace who also blaze Wild at Heart over holiness, for without holiness…..? Thank You for Grace, Mercy and Mysterious Love forever unknowable yet knowable in the midst of “oh wretched man that I am”.
I look forward to ‘THE ART of BEING YOU’, thus far a timely shaker of Salt & Light shaking over my journey plate.
Artists Meditate, Contemplate & share excellent fruit found inside narrow gate places.
Oh yeah, & beware of pigs in tuxedos who core flatulate no matter how you dress them up.
another p.s. ! Hey bob, the photo/graphic reminds me of the color that red and blue mixed with a bit of yellow makes, like the red and blue that dripped from under the rib cage off the shank of the spear down to the ground, and the tears that were wept by a certain Artist looking over a bright candle/torch lit city full of darkness & pain at dusk and dawn stirring the troops guided by Your hand children with hands clasped kneeling low at the foot of ole Plumbline No man knows the day as Hourglass Sands run low stand still firm and true To the One who commands with whispers from within As sickle winged hawks soar follow the tracks from eternity inside where Dad holds our hand where Red and Blue mingled to Crimson as yellow Fire builds, burns, discerns gently strokes His lambs as Temple whips fly while Tears doth flow like grains of sand running down the Hour Glass-Man. As soldiers wait, still, swiftly to and fro in ones, twos & squadrons of 4 guided by Your hand Where ‘window-sil spikes’ held Aslan high driven by you and I Now childrens hands clasped standing tall Plumbline angles, towers over big ‘Gee Eight and Twenty Summits’
no higher than the hole in the ground where Red and Blue mingled down to children now dancing the glorious crown on The Lion and The Lamb Broken-hearted One Who builds, burns, discerns gently strokes His lambs with Temple loaves and fishes
sustaining and stirring the troops guided by Your hand here on the ground beside Hour Glass-Man……..ahhh, breath!