who's really speaking here?

more than conquerors

aspokenword — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 19:47:14 +0000

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?
Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or sword?

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.
Romans 8:35 & 37.

Oh, brothers, sisters in Christ lay hold of this. Stand and be strong. Not so that we ourselves may look good, but that our Lord God, Savior, King will be glorified.

Enough of the defeatism talk. We have the victory through Christ. We are living temples filled by the Spirit of God. “The Spirit helps us in our weaknesses.” Romans 8:26

May God embolden us to Preach the “Mystery of Christ.” Colossians 4:4 “Pray that I may proclaim it clearly as I should.” I Thessalonians 2:2 “we had boldness in our God to declare to you the gospel of our God in the midst of such conflict.”

rights.

aspokenword — Mon, 29 Nov 2010 04:18:28 +0000

in reality, I have no rights.
I don’t deserve to have another breath.
how can I be so prideful to feel that I am owed anything?

enter, grace.

I still have no rights.
who are men that you give them more days?

everything is by Grace.
Without Him there is no existence.

aspokenword — Wed, 27 Oct 2010 17:14:05 +0000

The truth is I was made to do more than just hang in there.
-Dave Eggers, What is the What

Brother Andrew

aspokenword — Fri, 10 Sep 2010 00:20:33 +0000

It’s terrible to live and not know why you were born.
It’s terrible to die and not know why you lived.

green

aspokenword — Sun, 15 Aug 2010 04:04:23 +0000

for now my favorite color is the green of the river grass swaying beneath this bridge.

leaves

aspokenword — Mon, 02 Aug 2010 00:45:53 +0000

throwing the pen aside, he steps to the window to let the autumn air free. leaves are collecting on the side-walk bellow. for now his choice music is the rustling of the yellow, the red, the orange, the brown leave.

the leaves have provided the few changes he’s experienced this year. for only a few moments he is content with this. getting a chill from the breeze, he closes the window, back in the same spirit, same body, same soul, nothing new.

?

aspokenword — Wed, 02 Jun 2010 04:29:47 +0000

another day, another few cups of coffee.
what am I to do with this day, when all I feel like sitting with this warm mug in hand?

at times, I can feel the weight of inadequacy. today, was one of those times.
another shitty complex, another complex and shitty situation. these apartments seem more like compartments for things. dignity, humanity, where? in these boxes?

is this what you dreamt about? strip malls. fourlane highways. treeless parkinglots. suffocation by distance and lack of transport.

its nearly summer, it was about ninety today, but I sit here shaking. its far too much, this air condition in the basement. were we meant to not feel our environment? to not know the origin of our food? to live here, work there, and serve somewhere else? to drive seventy miles in a day without having left town?

well said, Paul.

aspokenword — Sun, 02 May 2010 23:44:24 +0000

Don’t be anxious about anything,
In everything by Prayer and Petition
With Thanksgiving
Let your requests be known to God.

monstruo

aspokenword — Sat, 10 Apr 2010 16:43:11 +0000

I wish I could explain this to you kid: These monsters they talk about don’t exist.

Get this through your head, fairness is not something that you are promised or even deserving of. But to live out the second most important command, you must strive to be at peace and treat everyone around you fairly.

I might not fully understand the environment you are growing up in, where death is as near as the pull of trigger. I do know this: even if you die here, there is hope of overcoming the second death. This hope begins and ends with love. I want you to know this love. The very hands that sculpted you, bled for you. This is love.

Child, I pray that you find your true father, who is waiting for you.

there’s a challenge at the top of this page…

aspokenword — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 17:48:50 +0000

is it me speaking
or is it God who loves me?

am I seeking my glory
or His glory?

Lately, I feel him moving me, it’s normally when I’m not ready for it. And when I sit in silence to listen, its my mind that seems to do all the talking. If my life were a stage, who is taking the leading role? Me or the Creator.

Richard J. Foster writes about changing the image flow “from God coming into us to our coming into God.” ₉₇ This “coming into God” takes the focus off me.

How often do I truly wait for the Lord quietly. Lamentations 3:25 “It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.”_ESV I want to do the talking. I do not understand how the writer of Lamentations continues to hold on to and hope in the goodness of God. I don’t think it is through his own power that he speaks these words in verses 31-33:

For the Lord will not cast off forever,
but, though he cause grief, he will have compassion
according to the abundance of his steadfast love;
for he does not willingly afflict
or grieve the children of men.

Lamentations mostly gives a horrifying picture of how Israel is shattered. It tells about a ruined city reduced to ashes, vision clouded by tears, and mothers eating their own children to stay alive. (2:20) Despite all of the destruction and sadness, in the middle of the book, there is a glorious confession of hope in God. I have such a hard time wrapping my mind around how the writer can do this:

But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”
3:21-24

After reading this statement the first time, all I could say is “How? How can the writer possibly say this now?” I cannot figure it out by human reasoning. I have to believe that the writer has an intimate relationship to God. That he has learned to listen to God. And that he has learned to let God’s words speak louder than his own, which brings me to the challenge of “Who’s really speaking here?” and “how do I let God do the speaking?”