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Showing posts from 2016

Best Gift of 2016

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As 2016 begins to fade into a memory,  I wanted to give thanks to our Lord for the best gift my family received this year. This little guy came into our lives on October 2nd, and we are blessed.  ~ On the fourth week of Advent we were accompanied while practicing Christmas songs at church. He looks quite content in his gramma's arms.

Pondered In Her Heart

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But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart. Luke 2:19 (NASB)  But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart - Alice Havers They have come  from out of the darkness, men of the fields, those who were watching  their cattle and sheep. They share a story, some saw angels, some saw lights. They all heard the song, a melody composed  at the throne of God. Mary knows and has no doubt, for an angel had come to her, God's herald, Gabriel. They have come  out from their monotonous stupor, men of simplicity, those who were bored of days and nights. The angels gave them joy, excitement never before felt. They have come looking to rejoice, celebrating the greatness of a song sung on high. And Mary ponders in her heart the rantings of unscholared men, singing praises for her newborn child. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr 

When He Calls Me Father (Prayer of Saint Joseph)

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Saint Joseph with the Infant Jesus by Guido Reni How am I to do this? You said, through your angel, that He would be God with us. But I am only a man, unable to grasp the thoughts You possess. This child in Mary's womb will look to me for guidance. Who am I to instruct Your son? I am a carpenter, not a scholar. My hands are skilled, not my mind. We will travel to the town of Micah's prophecy, to be counted among David's kin. Her time is near. The journey is long and I am frightened that I will be insufficient. How am I to do this? You have asked me to adopt a promise, the hope of all time to come, a covenant so far beyond my imagination. Be with us always on this journey through life and death. Give me the strength to honor the words spoken when He calls me father. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr 

Squirrels in the Snow

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I just wanted to share the lyric of a song I wrote back in the early 1990s. One morning, during the Christmas season I watched a couple squirrels scampering through the fresh coating of snow in our back yard. The poem was meant to be lighthearted, but ended up a bit deeper than intended. A friend of mine put music to the words and both my daughters fell in love with the piece. copyright 1992 - Donald P James Jr 

Stars

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Bruno Piglhein - Star of Bethlehem There are stars we simply gaze upon, on cloudless nights. We see shapes and figures in the patterns of heavenly lights, give them names and call their groupings constellations. There are stars which travelers follow, lights in the sky leading the way from one land to another, or across vast seas and oceans. There was one star, rising in a specific place, over a tiny village, over a barn in a field. One star, a comet, maybe or a flight of fancy. One star, lighting the way through the strife of a fragile night. One star calling wise men and shepherds to the humble birth of greatness. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0769H9LJH

Sonnet of Elizabeth (Luke 1:23-25)

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  When his time of service was completed, he returned home.   After this his wife Elizabeth became pregnant and for five months remained in seclusion.   “The Lord has done this for me,” she said. “In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people.” Luke 1:23-25 (NIV) You have taken my disgrace. That which was barren is now fertile as the land, because You have willed it so. For all my life I have prayed, at times wondering if You care to even hear my supplication, and at last You have answered my cry. This impatient world beckoning us to live our lives on its time, not Yours. Yet You give when least expected, when the prayer has become routine and the struggle the way of life. My disgrace is gone with but the cry of a child. One who will walk Your earth with a purpose. One who now moves gently within his mother's womb. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr 

The Day or the Hour

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  “But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; and they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away. That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. Two men will be in the field; one will be taken and the other left. Two women will be grinding with a hand mill; one will be taken and the other left. “Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come. But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him. Matthew

Thankful (A Poem of Thanksgiving)

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I am thankful that Jesus brought His love into the world and gave it freely on the cross. I am thankful that He has given light to the darkness and dispersed my shadows. I am thankful that He has brought into my world the embrace of a loving spouse, my partner in faith. I am thankful that He has seen me worthy to be a father and a grand parent. I am thankful for tiny foreheads that I can kiss and ears hearing my promise to love always. I am thankful for each breath I am given, whether the air is cold, warm or somewhere in between. I am thankful that the sun rises at His command, each morning and lights my day. I am thankful for bread, milk, honey and broccoli to nourish the body molded for my soul. I am thankful for a hard days work and for the muscles crafted for each and every task. I am thankful for the song reminding me of the Lord's love and for the ability to sing along. I am thankful for words, spoken and writt

Hands

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Hands that rubbed mud onto the eyes of a blind man and touched the sores of a leper. Hands that helped Jairus' daughter rise up from her mat and accepted a cool drink of water from a Samaritan woman. Hands that prayed over five loaves and two fishes and calmed the ocean with a simple gesture. Hands that broke bread to be shared with friends and washed their feet as a servant. Hands that prayed in Gethsemane and healed the ear of the high priests slave. Hands  that bore slivers from the wooden cross carried and soothed the women who wept. Hands that were pierced by spikes, mounted to a beam and wounded for the sake of love. Hands that were touched by those who witnessed and believed in by those with faith. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr 

Luke 21:1-4

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When Jesus looked up he saw some wealthy people putting their offerings into the treasury and he noticed a poor widow putting in two small coins. He said, “I tell you truly, this poor widow put in more than all the rest; for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood.” Luke 21:1-4 Life had always been hard, but it had become so much more difficult since the death of her husband.  She herself was moving on in age, still she made the trek to the temple treasury to offer her pitiful amount.  She had two small copper coins in her hand.  She rubbed them together.  They were smoothed from friction and not worth much, but they were all she possessed at the moment.  She prayed God would provide, even a crust of bread, in the coming days. When she entered the room for offerings she took note of a cluster of younger men across the way.  They looked to be men who had journeyed a great distance on foot

Prayer of Weakness

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Lord give me peace in my heart. Take my anger and soften it, mold my hatred into kindness. Reshape my foul temperament into sonnets honoring You. Lord give me strength of weakness to embrace my enemies against my flesh, to harbor no wish to condemn. Give me a heart to pray for them when I am on my knees. Lord give me the love of a child, to ask not, nor make demands of You. Give me ears to listen to the songs You sing and not question, what I as a child knew to be true. Lord take all my shallow darkness and disperse its gloom with Your overpowering love. Find me when I am lost in shadows and bring me into the comfort  of Your light. copyright 1992 - Donald P James Jr 

Demand for a Miracle (Mark 8:11-13)

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Show us a miracle to prove acceptance. If the one whose name we will not speak, sent you then miracles should ordain your path. Show us you are approved. Heal the blind, feed the hungry and make clean a leper. Don't simply perform your magic on the Sabbath, or forgive sins that cause these ailments. We who are skeptics need miraculous sights to even consider the words you speak. So now, while we still have some patience, move a mountain for us or a tree. Tell the little girl to rise from death. Make the earth tremble and the stars disappear. Show us the signs of the times so that we might find fault with the compassion you teach. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr 

Churches, Barns and Coffee Tables

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And while some were talking about the temple,  that it was adorned with beautiful stones and votive gifts,  He said, Luke 21:5 Beautiful stones, gifts offered as sacrifice to a God who longs for our hearts. Wealth and pious ideals, starving the children so loved, this elaborate vessel of outer expression attempts to imprison the spirit. Man's creativity, intricate carvings meant to impress the one who created mountains, oceans and forests. We are men awed by material things, vases of gold, altars chiseled by the finest sculptors and tapestries woven of imported cloth. All this is meant to fade to a time when one stone is no longer set upon another. Remind us Lord that the new covenant is of the spirit, that the temple is this body of flesh and blood. Remind us that the Father desires our souls, the essence of our love, more so than buildings crafted by our hands. Would the homeless messiah rest His head in any of these castles? W

His Grace is Sufficient (2 Corinthians 12:9)

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His grace is sufficient, when we are imprisoned by trials unable to see the value in our pain. His grace is the answer received, a beacon in the darkness with purpose beyond my limited wisdom. His grace is the guiding hand which leads me through the valley, calms my fear and eases my doubt. His grace is the whispered voice on the breeze, telling me to trust despite my reservations, telling me to have faith despite my doubt. His grace is sufficient, when I am losing the battle and I have endured the struggles of my own doing. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr 

Preacher on the Jordan

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The following is a lyric written in 1989.  The words were later put to music and used in a play based on the life of Christ.  For four years I played John the Baptist in this play and sang this song while enacting the baptism. On the banks of the Jordan, repentant children. So many coming toward me. Their shouts to save them, so uncontrolled, with such a desire to be cleansed by the sea. They gather in the sand. Thousands of questions about salvation and God's plan. Some with their piousness disguising them, but He who sends His son sees through you man. Your Messiah is coming. Repent for the day is near. He shall com to you with peace to dispel all your fear. Plague of threatened Pharisees, Abraham adopted sons, standing in your aura alone pompous and arrogant. My patience tried, God could make believers out of these very stones. Remember I am not he, I wear sandals soiled. His I am not worthy to tie. His face you shall know. My Israelite

Sitting at His Feet (Luke 10:38-42)

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Now as they were traveling along, He entered a village; and a woman named Martha welcomed Him into her home.  She had a sister called Mary, who was seated at the Lord’s feet, listening to His word.   But Martha was distracted with all her preparations; and she came up to Him and said, “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to do all the serving alone? Then tell her to help me.”  But the Lord answered and said to her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things; but only one thing is necessary, for Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her.”   Would you sit at His feet, on the hard floor, listening to His words? Would you seek to learn the paths which are chosen for you? Would you choose to hear the voice of the Father's Word, a slight breeze brushing against your forehead? Lord, some petition, we are left to labor for you, alone, while our sisters (or brothers) sit silently in prayer. He says "

Luke 17:5-6

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And the Apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith.” The Lord replied, “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” Faith and mustard seeds, not much in common.  But Jesus uses the tiny seed as a sort of metaphor for faith.  He tells his followers that it doesn't take a large amount of faith to move a mulberry tree from the place where it is rooted.  To me the comparison says that if we have a little faith, a tiny droplet of faith, we can do great things. So I ask myself, what kind of faith do I have and how much? Do I have this tiny amount of faith that will help me move mountains? And is there even a mountain that I need to move, or a mulberry tree, for that matter? I can believe Jesus died for me, as am today, as I was yesterday and will be tomorrow.  I can believe that he loves me, although my understanding of love pales greatly when it comes to the love of

Butterflies

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My sister, Tammy, invited my wife and I to her church service this past Sunday, to celebrate All Saints. The entire church was decorated with Butterflies of various colors, which was the creative work of my sister and a few other members of the parish. I especially liked the pattern of Butterflies making up the flame of the Spirit beside the Cross of our Lord. Each attendee was given two paper Butterflies, one to commemorate a living saint who has touched our lives, the other for a saint in paradise who inspires us on our journey. We all have special saints in heaven, those we long to see when our journey home is complete. My wife, Susan, and I have a special saint one we only know as Poppy Seed. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jlOv79UyRt8&list=PLRM5ENtHqoWeESLzD0VYndGbAFyqfDuPq&index=1

The Ragamuffins

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We shall live! Dance on the white washed bones of those who preached otherwise. The Nazarene has embraced the Ragamuffins, promised them the spirit of holiness and fishing nets full of men saved from the pious voices condemning them of their sins We shall live! Persecution makes every effort to break the soul. But we stand with blemishes faded. God's promised covenant washes Ragamuffins of all their stains. We are those who begged  in the streets, defiled our temples of flesh, before being bathed by His blood. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr 

Seventy Years After (Luke 21:6)

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Ruins, whether it be by the will of Nebuchadnezzar or Titus, no stone lies on another. The spirit is crushed and the body crumbles. He warned us before we mocked Him, drove cold nails through His hands. Why was the warning not heeded? A million have died by the sword or famine, and a tenth more are slaves unto slaughter. Ruins, the people led out of Egypt, purged from the land promised. Soil given now taken, offered to the gentiles seeking to worship a homeless preacher. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr

New Day's Light

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Troubled at times, by splinters against raw wounds. The wood has no comfort in its grain. I could never do as you did. My fear would crush me before the first nail found flesh. They broke bone, infused your blood with the fiber of the tree. A sapling grown tall with purpose beyond imagination. Dark clouds hover in the sky. The moment feels emptied of life. Help my troubled heart to find solace in the new day's light. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr 

Shepherd (John 10:11-16)

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You are our shepherd. You protect those of us who are Your sheep. The downtrodden, the anguished those who are weak, struggling to find their way. You keep us safe when night falls and wolves howl. You know Your sheep and we know You. You are what we have hoped for. You search for those who are lost. You find them and You bring them home. Search for me Lord, find me when I am lost in places my soul should never wander. Bring me back to the flock that listens to You. copyright 2016 - Donald P James Jr  

The Sycamore Tree (Luke 19:1-10)

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He entered Jericho and was passing through.   And behold, there was a man named Zacchaeus. He was a chief tax collector and was rich.   And he was seeking to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was small in stature.   So he ran on ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see him, for he was about to pass that way.   And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.”   So he hurried and came down and received him joyfully.   And when they saw it, they all grumbled, “He has gone in to be the guest of a man who is a sinner.”   And Zacchaeus stood and said to the Lord, “Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor. And if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold.”   And Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham.   For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” Luke 19:

Reckless Abandon

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Often, it seems, I meet individuals who are turning away from their faith because of a denominational law, shutting them away from God.  The teachers met on our journey often wish to preach their own ideals and not the one simple truth, that Jesus loves us as we are.  Never enclose our Lord into a tiny, defined box.  He is so much more than our limited imagination can grasp. No longer do we serve the old way of a written law, but in a new way of the spirit (Romans 7:6) Discouragement among believers when those seeking authority offer laws and not His words. Ideals bound together with human insight, worthy of a Pharisaical charge. Do we become white washed tombs, believing conspiracies contrived by those who need to control our journey with Jesus? He said "Come to me". Come as you are, not as they wish you to be. But come. Don't stand in the wake of your discouragement believing the ordained authority to be the clear voice of salvation