Monthly Archives: August 2012

The dance

When I disappear cold in the dirt and air
I’m safe in the warmth of His love and care
A cradle bought by Gethsemane’s prayer
Another dimension of spiritual life there.

There is no death in the spiritual realm
The dancing continues to the Father’s tune
The harmony of freedom and knowing Truth
On the eternal stage beyond the moon.

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The reflection in the building

A warm summer Glasgow day
Walking in the main street,
Soaking in the atmosphere
Enjoying the summer heat.

The reflection on a new building
To me it says so much,
About how things have changed
Except the mind of the church.

People have moved on in life
But the church stays the same,
How it was done in the past
Reflects their candle based flames.

Men in funny uniforms
Looks like Roman togas,
Smoking handbags and magic water
Echoing well worn slogans.

Songs with sounds irrelevant
Makes every Sunday a funeral,
I see an old building in glass
Reflecting irrelevance cultural.

The new building looks so slick
Screams that it wants more,
Reflecting the blue sky above
It just doesn’t want to be bored.

Can the church wake up from sleep
Instead of trying to sound drier,
The language of the seller should be
The language of the buyer.

The church has the right message
It’s just needs to catch up in time,
Reflecting reality today
And giving the Life of Christ.

David Livingstone

David Livingstone
Just like you
Came from the working side of town,

David Livingstone
Just like you
Had to earn and work for his pounds.

David Livingstone
Wanted people like you
To not be ignorant of truth

David Livingstone
Wanted people like you
To be free of condemning abuse.

David Livingstone
Never gave up
A body of knowledge he built

David Livingstone
Never gave up
Studying medicine at the mill.

Dr. Livingstone
Went to Africa
Healing the poor and the old

Dr. Livingstone
Went to Africa
Restoring and saving the soul.

Attacked by a lion
Injured his arm
Didn’t let it take him off course

Attacked by a lion
Injured his arm
Knowing the supernatural resource.

Left his family
Gave it all up
for ministry, sacrifice and resilience

Left his family
Gave it all up
For a spiritual family of millions.

One of the “great cloud of witnesses”

The monument

Martyr’s monument. Wigtown. Solway Firth. Sth West Scotland.

The monument stands tall, and I feel overwhelmed
But it’s not the monument itself,
But it represents those who martyred their lives
And loved God instead of themself.

The long tall stone representing the stake
That cemented their body to the sand,
It gives the feeling of a crucified life
Their price of making their stand.

It’s tall and strong just like their stance
Identifying their death with Christ,
Crucified to the world, and it to them
Preceds their resurrection life.

The stones at the base heaped on top of each other
Represents rising waters,
That crept up their body and filled their lungs
The water and blood of the martyrs.

The scarlet women and the scarlet beast
With it’s gold and precious pearls
Drunk with blood, but the white horse rider
Overcomes her and the world.

Where the monument stands is now silted in
Where the previous killer tide flowed,
But the more you try to kill off the seed
The stronger the seed will grow.

Note: I am a descendant of John Fleming who was martyred the same way at Inverkip, Inverclyde, at the Firth of the Clyde near Greenock, South West Scotland.

The two Margarets (Wilson & McLachlan – martyrs)

Two heroes of the faith
down in the “thieves hole”,
Choosing to lose their life
choosing to save their soul,
Margaret Wilson from Wigtown
only eighteen years old,
Margaret McLachlan a widow
refused to fit the mould.

Then they refused to renounce
At the command of the King,
Their faith in Christ Jesus and
The song their hearts did sing
The covenant of faith made
Between God & Scotland’s kin,
Choosing eternal life
Over death without it’s sting.

Late on the eleventh of May
In sixteen eighty five,
After hiding in the hills
From Charley’s Selfish pride,
We’re led to Wigtown bay
When it was low tide,
They were tied to a stake
And watched the water level rise.

All of the kings cronies
Gave chance to reverse,
Their allegiance to the King
To the kingdom of the Earth,
But they refused to dishonour
The King of their new birth,
Correctly assessing
Who gives us true worth.

As Salt water filled their lungs
They quoted and sang some songs,
Some Psalms and some hymns
About to Whom they both belonged,
In trying to dim the light
Charley only made it strong,
The two Margarets showing
It’s about whom is beyond.

To make example to the crowd
As they breathed their last breath,
They thrust their head in the water
To show all a morbid death,
Margret Wilson first, to put
Margaret McLachlan under stress,
One at a time
The died a horrific martyr’s death

Our real heroes should not be
Those in the Olympic games,
Or achievers in the world
Who win success and worship fame,
But any ordinary person
Who worship Jesus and His name,
The One who gave His life
Giving freedom from all stain.


The Wigtown Martyrs

A despicable event was the drowning of two women who were tied to stakes in Wigtown Bay and engulfed in the rising Solway tide. This punishment was meted out to Margaret Lachlane aged 63 years and Margaret Wilson 18 years old, who refused to give up the Covenant and so they became known as the “Wigtownshire Martyrs”.

Their names had been given to the authorities by two local ‘king’s curates’ as being non-attendees at the church, thus branding them as ‘disorderly’ parishioners. Both had gone into hiding, hiding in the hills with many other “covenanters”, but a party of dragoons led by the feared Robert Grierson of Lag soon found their hideaways. They were tried before the court in Wigtown on 13th April 1685 and were sentenced by the judges to execution by drowning.

They were marched down from the Tollbooth by the soldiers and two stakes were hammered into the sands. The tide was out, the sands being so flat that the sea recedes almost two miles thereabouts. The soldiers first went to McLachlan, and give her the chance to pray for the King, but she refused. Some men were incensed at the impudence of the old woman, and one cursed and told the soldiers to, “Let her gang to hell”. As the tidal race worked it’s way higher up the body of old Margaret, one of the town soldiers took his halberd and held it over her throat, bringing her to a quicker end.

Earlier, Margaret Wilson began to sing the 25th Psalm as the waters rose up her body, “Consider mine enemies, how many they are. And they bear a tyrannous hate against me”. Finally one soldier came forward and upon pushing her body under the water said “Tak anither drink, hinny; clep wi’ the partans”. The reference to the partans or crabs, was made as the women are said to have grasped the stakes tightly. At a later time, when the tide had once again receded, the corpses of the two women were taken from the waters and under the cover of nightfall transferred to the Parish Kirkyard. A grave was hastily dug and they were laid in consecrated soil.

Avenging the blood of the saints

It’s God’s revenge
He will avenge
When wrong is done
To those sons
Just because they are in Christ.

“Vengeance is mine
I’ll repay the crime”
I love them too much
My heart they’ve touched
Just because they are in Christ.

Leave it to God
Whose light has shone
In the darkest place
The King of space
Just because they are in Christ.

He’ll avenge their blood
In the name of the Son
Avenging the saints
There’ll be no restraint.
Just because they are in Christ.

The Covenanters were those people in Scotland who signed the National Covenant in 1638. They signed this Covenant to confirm their opposition to the interference by the Stuart kings in the affairs of the church.

The Stuart kings harboured the belief of the Divine Right of the Monarch. Not only did they believe that God wished them to be the infallible rulers of their kingdom – they also believed that they were the spiritual heads of the Church. This latter belief could not be accepted by the Scots. No man, not even a king, could be spiritual head of their church. Only Jesus Christ could be spiritual head of a Christian church.

The period from 1680 until 1685 was one of the fiercest in terms of persecution and a few months between 1684-5 became forever known as the “Killing Times”. Charles’ brother James II had come to the throne, he was a believer in the Divine Right of Kings and a supporter of the Roman Catholic faith. It became his sworn intent to totally eradicate those who did not believe as he did.

Irish holiday (Hoping we get lost on the way)

I took the ferry from Cainryan’s port
To Belfast at Donegal place,
With my beautiful wife of 28 years
To enjoy some holiday space.

Belfast is surrounded by seven hills
The locals say no use complaining,
If you can see them it’s about to rain
If you can’t then it’s already raining.

We went to the docks where Titanic was built
Saw graffiti not for the squeamish,
“designed by the Scottish, built by the Irish
Then it was sunk by the English”.

But the Titanic museum looks likes an iceberg
With the tour guides who are full of zest,
They said there was nothing wrong the boat
It was working OK when it had left.

Then off to Shankhill where many were killed
The wall separates religious views,
A cheeky Aussie tourist wrote on the wall;
“peace starts with a BBQ”.

I then asked a man near the Ulster cemetery
“what’s the tourist places to see ?,
He said “the grave of the inventor of the crossword”
His grave is down two, and across three”.

Belfast decided to form a ice hockey team
They should have thought of sport played in summer,
For the second prize was “The Belfast Bullets”
And the first prize was “The Belfast Bombers”.

So we took a drive down to Eniskillen
Met a man with a joke quite crude,
He asked me why the French eat snails
It’s because they don’t like fast food.

The next day we drove to the city of Dublin
Full of statues of men most have heard,
But if you don’t really know who they are
At least they’re a hero to the birds.

I asked a local about all the sculptures
“Are only prominent males now dead ?”,
He looked at me and my wife and said
“There weren’t any females born then”.

He then said he had a half brother he liked
I loved the joke that he said,
His half brother only had one arm
And also had only one leg.

He said this brother built the first Irish plane
Fame and fortune is his lot,
He called it “Mayfly”, so I asked “why ?”
“Cos it may fly or then it may not”.

He then built the first rear view mirror
I didn’t know whether to laugh or wince,
He said he made enough money to live
So He’s never ever looked back since.

We headed back to Belfast city
To catch a ferry with a smile on our face
Enjoying the scenery and Gaelic music
Hoping we get lost on the way.

Others may, you may not

You are an individual
God treats you as such
What He allows for some to you He’ll stop,

He has the bigger picture
He thinks all for your best
Others may, but in your case, you may not.

What He can stop in power
He may permit in wisdom
giving you the best aim for life’s shot,

What works and flows for others
Might be your greatest downfall
So others may, in your case, you may not.

We all have different calls
And giftings and talents
For me what’s cold, for you it may be hot

God knows how it functions
Bringing out your best
Means others may, in your case, you may not.

I always wondered why
I couldn’t attach to houses
I had to learn, in my hands, to keep things soft,

They were easier to give up
When I got the call
Others can attach, but my case, I may not.

Now I look back and see
What God was on about
Bringing His life to the land of the Scot,

I have no ties to things
For they would weigh me down
Others can, but now I realize, I may not.

The gospel’s power is it’s foolishness

We must never take away
the simplicity of the gospel
You’ll have no strength in the needed hour,

For it’s strength is in it’s foolishness
and if that’s stripped away,
You take it’s life and strip away it’s power.

The Kite

I had an emotional dream last night
I was teaching my Grandson to fly a kite.

It flew so high till it was unseen
I gave him the rope at the start of the dream.

He asked me “does God really live up there ?”
As the kite floated higher into the air.

He said “how can I know the things He says
And how can I know He has my requests ?”

I looked to him with a Grandfather’s care
And said “you can always know He’s there.

As the rope tugs your finger though the kite is afar
You know He’s there by the tug on your heart.