Tag Archives: identity

Who are these ?

“All the angels stood around the throne and the elders and the four living creatures, and fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, saying: “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom, Thanksgiving and honor and power and might, Be to our God forever and ever. Amen.” Then one of the elders answered, saying to me, “Who are these arrayed in white robes, and where did they come from?” And I said to him, “Sir, you know.” So he said to me, “These are the ones who come out of the great tribulation, and washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.” “Therefore they are before the throne of God, and serve Him day and night in His temple. And He who sits on the throne will dwell among them. They shall neither hunger anymore nor thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any heat; for the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them and lead them to living fountains of waters. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”” ‭‭Revelation‬ ‭7:11-17‬ ‭

Who are these ?.

They are loud
They sound like strong, powerful and moving waters
Making their critical mass noise where they don’t deserve.

Loud and white
Red and white
Blood red and white apparel
Blood red, white and loud
Suit these loud worshippers
Before the throne of the donor.

But despite the local clothing
The question is asked because
They look like strangers: do they belong before this throne ?
Are they worthy of the King’s focus ?
They are unrecognisable…who are these ?.

The answer comes like a scientific discovery…
They are totally different to what they were:
Smelling of the vile odor of death.

Now transfigured:
They are singers
They are dancers
They are thinkers
They are overcomers
They lovers
They are soldiers
They are forgivers
They are victors.

They are clean and white
They are pure and red
History re-written…
They look totally different.

Angels, creatures, elders get it…
Is that them ?
Really ?
What an amazing change !

The heavenly response flows:
Life circulates between the throne and the vessels of love:
Shepherding
Protection
Love both ways.

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The promise of closing time

Lipstick smears on her centre piece
That was botoxed till it’s a crime
It’s time for the Friday night ritual
To make it past closing time.

There’s no way to beat the boredom
The emotion instructs the mind
Unless you keep the tradition
To play way past closing time.

Though she thinks she is hot
The size of her dress belies
The cold that is hers outside
Way past the closing time.

She loves the super attention
But knows it’s a deep as their eye
But she takes it while it’s on offer
Hopes it lasts until closing time.

Her subjects begin to leave
Bellies full of alcohol slime
Emptiness begins to fill her
Cos she knows that it’s closing time.

The taxi ride home seems a blur
As the keys let her stagger inside
So she can do it again
That’s the promise of closing time.

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The Ballad of John Mann

And when the vultures came down on the carcasses, Abram drove them away. Now when the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram; and behold, horror and great darkness fell upon him. (‭Genesis‬ ‭15‬:‭11-12‬ NKJV)

But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord. (‭II Corinthians‬ ‭3‬:‭18‬ NKJV)

—————-

John Mann
Well meaning and average
Hard working and normal
Accumulates much.

Accumulates wealth
Accumulates knowledge
Accumulates self respect
Accumulates an identity.

Confident in his knowledge, and
If you do good, you will get good
If you do bad, you will get beat
Reward comes from work, and risk
And self respect.

Mann is self motivated
Self educated
Self respected
Self sufficient
Self made.

Yet Mann
Self doubts
Self loathes
Self harms in his mind.

Mann is in an everlasting kingdom
Yet lives in a self destructing world
And lives a self depreciating life,
But with an everlasting God
Who has a multi-faceted and a many sided wisdom
Mixed with love from an everlasting power…

…the cocktail mixed by God.

God calls this cup, “glory”

Why ?.

He doesn’t always tell
But He always knows
It always works…

It works deep
Hard
Is an incisive scalpel ,
Yet most powerful,
Past finding out.

One night,
A black night,
No moon to reflect the sun’s light
A place where he has never been
A place where he has never seen
A place where no one else has known; they who criticize,
Where accumulated knowledge has no answer
Where accumulation of experience brings confusion,
Brings a great horror of darkness.

There is no one there
Except Mann and Jesus.

John Mann uses all his strength
And his accumulated wealth
His accumulated knowledge
His accumulated self respect
His accumulated identity
His self education
His self respect
His self sufficiency
His self made mental creations
To defend himself against this vulture.

But Mann gets exhausted in the fight
The exhaustion bring doubt to his doubts
Brings questions to his accumulated knowledge
He is misunderstood,
Self respect starts to dissolve
Identity is stripped away…

Mann feels naked.

His fig leaves of self sufficiency is not sufficient
He doesn’t respect his self respect
His education was in the mind; not in power
His identity was misplaced
His wealth of knowledge made him bankrupt.

God’s cocktail begins to work
For John Mann must now rest to survive
He must stop.

He screams , “let this cup, this cocktail pass…
Isn’t there a better way ?
An easier way
More convenient ?
That gives respect” ?.

In His sleep
He breathes
Rests
And realizes…

There is nothing left…
Only Jesus.

His Kingdom
His knowledge
His wealth
His sufficiency
His position
His rest
and more powerfully, His identity.

John Mann starts to see
He is not God’s counsellor, and
That the questions of God become more satisfying than the answers of the world.

This was a most expensive drink
It cost Mann everything;
Yet gave him everything.

This cup is now always full
Instead of always needing to be topped up.

When the vultures come, from the externals
He just sits and smiles,
Resting in work of the black night and the cup he drunk from
For now Mann’s source is not self
But that which has been imparted deep within,
Deep has connected with deep.

Mann is forever altered,
He doesn’t look the same
He doesn’t feel the same
He doesn’t think the same
He is not the same.

He walks with a limp
He sings with his heart, not his head
He talks with a new tongue
Poison no longer harms him.

He loves what he used to hate
He hates what he used to love,
Now his prayers start with thankfulness
Gentleness has smoothed the hard edges,
Through grace glasses he sees differently.

From the black night,
The uncomfortable cup,
The inconvenient cocktail of night and horror…
Is the stripping process…
Brilliant, clever, loving and eternal.

Always works
Always powerful
Always better in depth and richness.

Now Mann doesn’t need external virtue
For John Mann was stripped of himself
And now possesses another life in exchange,
Internal.

The day breaks
The night is far spent,
John Mann is now ready for the next time night comes,
With power.

—————–

And do this, knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep; for now our salvation is nearer than when we first believed. The night is far spent, the day is at hand. Therefore let us cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light. (‭Romans‬ ‭13‬:‭11-12‬ NKJV)

But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you. To Him be the glory and the dominion forever and ever. Amen. (‭I Peter‬ ‭5‬:‭10-11‬ NKJV)

You can listen or download my reading of this poem here. (6.4mb. 6.57 mins)

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In love with love

To be in love with love
Is to be in hate with hate.

To be at peace with peace
Is to be joyful about joy.

To be right about righteousness
Let’s you condemn condemnation.

To be a son of the Son
Identifies you with His identity.

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The bard

The bard of Scotland takes pride of place
The man who wrote with sonsie face
The older he gets, the better he was
His lassie exploits have all been lost.

But he provides the identity
That cannae come from just poetry
To a nation unsure of self
Affirming a past to be upheld.

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Fighting Territory

The Irish Republican Army
Through clenched teeth will fight,
So all with Irish accents
Will hear “Ireland’s call” and unite.

The cowboys sings of the country
Mountains and farms and all that,
Though he is from the city
he’ll wear his ten gallon hat.

The American is so proud
He was born on the Fourth of July,
He sings the “star spangled banner”
With hand on heart as he cries.

The Australian larrikin is proud
Of their beaches, forests and sun,
That he is “young and free”
With BBQ and beer soaked fun.

The Scotsman wears His kilt
And recites what Burns may have said,
About the braveheart spirit
That against the Englishmen bled.

Then there’s the twelve year old boy
Thinks “in what can I now be proud” ?,
He’ll wear his football jersey
With the thousands in the stand with the crowd.

These all have something in common
It’s the same thing that drives them all,
It’s all about their identity
By this we all stand or fall.

The identity is the powerful force
That drives all of life’s decisions,
To understand motivation
The identity is the heart’s incision.

For this we’ll defend to the death
For that is our fighting territory,
Because it’s who we are
Where belief comes from, our identity.

______________________________

Note: “Ireland’s call” is the anthem sung by the Irish rugby team which is made up of both the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland.

“Young and free” is in Australia’s national anthem

“Larrikin” is Australian slang for a person who is a bit cheeky

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The prisoner’s new identity

The prisoners eyes open
To the man he has become,
No longer from the past
But a grace-fathered son,
Identity restored
No longer alienated,
From life fully available
No longer feels rejected.

He starts to feel different
To the man God ex-changed,
Effortless transformation
He knows he’s not the same,
Truth replacing lies
Begins to set him free,
That started with revelation
Of his new identity.

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I am glad I am here

It seems that free verse poetry is the most common form of poetry now. Whilst I don’t like it because of the “odd” rhymes and rhythms, I thought I would give it a go. Here is a poetry account of a prison cell visit this morning (11.2.2013).

The cry of death rings out from his cell
The insecure prisoner sees the darkness he is in
No identity
No hope
No future
No idea
“Please help me” comes through a nervous smile
Through a mask well worn in time
“My da’ used to always laugh at me
But when I had a gun, the laughing stopped
I even got to be liked through an armed robbery
But that all changed to guilt and shame”

I said “lets exchange the lies for the truth
Who are you really ?
Do you believe the emotional lies
Or who God made you when you were born again
Belief in what Jesus did is the key
That will open new doors to a new identity”

The prisoner’s smile is now real
I think he is seeing what he hasn’t seen before
The Holy Spirit is now working
I am glad I am here.

(Note: “da’ ” is the Scots word for Father. It is pronounced “dar”)

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