"Where are you?" cried the Father loudly, as the snake slinked away, sneering peevishly
with the cold deadly venom dripping from the fangs, he slid back into his hiding place in the brush of the garden. The Father walking through the brush, looking for his son, who was hiding with his wife, covering what he'd done with the petty figs, the works of his flesh, which made him feel secure. Pulling back the leaves from thicket where they hid, the father looked disappointedly at them, a tear in his eye. His lip began to quiver, as he asked them that terrible question, "What have you done?" The leaf-covered man nervously blamed the one that he was supposed to love and take care of, and she blamed the snake, who devilishly slinked out of his hiding spot. Seeing the disaster that happened, the Father cursed the snake, and the world He made them for good. His quivering lip became a sob, as he began to implement the repercussions of the problems they caused. His sobs became weeps as he casted them out of the garden, as they realized that their problems would lead to their death.
"The Fall" wasn't a fall, it was a rebellion.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Tunnel vision
You put eternity on our hearts, but I want more. Stamp it on my eyes.
May they focus on Jesus, only Jesus, no one and nothing but Jesus, so much so that even blinking, shutting their lids for only a millisecond causes them agony from missing the chance to gaze on His beauty.
Keep them from losing focus, stopping to take a glance at the world and what she has to offer, her trap of temptation and laziness strongly beckoning them to just rest, to avert their stare from Him.
You direct our steps, and are a lamp for our feet, but I want more!
Shackle my feet with chains of holiness, so that I would not stray from your narrow road.
Keep them from turning even a small angle from your path, so that I would not be snared in the thorns on its sides.
Sin's temptations call me with the sweetest of voices, but to be trapped in the thorns and thistles causes me pain.
I try to get back on track, but they coil around me, their needles piercing me, their spines scraping my sin.
To be on your path is a comfort to my feet, and to gaze on your beauty is a delight for my eyes.
May they focus on Jesus, only Jesus, no one and nothing but Jesus, so much so that even blinking, shutting their lids for only a millisecond causes them agony from missing the chance to gaze on His beauty.
Keep them from losing focus, stopping to take a glance at the world and what she has to offer, her trap of temptation and laziness strongly beckoning them to just rest, to avert their stare from Him.
You direct our steps, and are a lamp for our feet, but I want more!
Shackle my feet with chains of holiness, so that I would not stray from your narrow road.
Keep them from turning even a small angle from your path, so that I would not be snared in the thorns on its sides.
Sin's temptations call me with the sweetest of voices, but to be trapped in the thorns and thistles causes me pain.
I try to get back on track, but they coil around me, their needles piercing me, their spines scraping my sin.
To be on your path is a comfort to my feet, and to gaze on your beauty is a delight for my eyes.
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