“Is love a fancy, or a feeling? No.”

This line from Hartley Coleridge’s Sonnet VII is the basic sum of what I’d like to write about today.

Although some forms of love include feelings and fancies, they are not true love. Love in its purest form goes far beyond feelings and fantasies.

The cry of wisdom echos in the streets
But who can find her place?
And from the Lord comes knowledge pure and sweet
But who will come and taste?

Some men profess to have her rich, rare jewels
But they are as the blind
Proclaim themselves as wise yet are but fools
And can no gemstone find.

Yet as their master does so posture, they
Call slyly to the young
Who think they see pure pearls on that way
But find they’ve followed dung

Dear Reader, it has come to my attention that there remains a small beast unrecognized for its unique addition to this good world our Creator has made. Such a beast, no matter how small or hideous, reflects worthy characteristics of its Maker. This creature is none other than the Silverfish. Popularly called the Pincher Bug, this six legged insect surprisingly bears no distinct, exterior features to warrant its name. It is neither silver, nor a fish.

I stepped outside,
Felt the slap of winter’s
Icy breath
And stood beneath
The rain-soaked pines

Drops dripped

I looked up, fists clenched
And felt a wet ceiling above
A great ice wall betwixt me
And the sky
Unleashing and spitting upon me

Drops dripped

The Lord had taken my joy
I said
Had swept my feet from under
Like a scythe at harvest
My precious things in their
Full bloom,
Their life and blood on the earth

Drops dripped

The grace of God I find sweet
Yet sweeter still, and more meet
Is His sovereignty;
Lending greatest peace

Of God I know not much
In comparison, though such
A vast deal is left to be learnt
Still I know enough

Bury not beneath pride
And to the world be not tied
Nor find heart and soul in rust
But in Him, your trust

These simple truths I ache to learn
Though not for a crown to earn
But to honor One whom I love
And see Him above

“The merciful man doeth good to his own soul: but he that is cruel troubleth his own flesh” Proverbs 11:17
“For he shall have judgment without mercy, that hath shewed no mercy; and mercy rejoiceth against judgment.”- James 2:13
“For the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God.” James 1:20

I recently picked up an English translation of the Quran. I’ve heard lots of mixed messages on how Christianity and Islam relate. I’ve heard that Allah is a monster who calls his followers to sacrificial jihad against infidels (including Christians). I’ve heard that Mohammed was a prophet after the pattern of Abraham, Moses, and Jesus and simply extends the tradition of the People of the Book. I’ve heard that Islam is peaceful, that it’s extreme, that Mohammed was a pedophile, that he was a hero, that the Quran teaches compassion, and that the Quran teaches hatred.

What do I do, when I simply feel
Like I can’t make it myself,
I need help, and I know You’re real,
When that deep yearning I know I felt.

My soul searches and strains
To deeply feel, and know
To see beyond the pain
That Your love to me You would show.

But then what do I do, when I’m filled
With great joy and life,
When Your goodness shines
Above all doubt and strife?

When sincerely I see
That You are everything,
Evry’thing I’ll ever need,
And I’m under Your wings.

God is holy, but yet God loves
He yearns for you to see that love.
God is mercy, and He’s just
But still patient with all of us.

He doesn’t condemn, He doesn’t say:
“You’re guilty, you don’t follow my way”
He gives us time to accept His gift,
Till our loud praise, to His Son lifts.

Again I say, our God is love
He showed it when He gave His Son
Our LORD tells us, “You are adored,
And I’ll come in, just open the door”

This sand in our hands
Is slipping away
Our time for tomorrow
Taken up by today
The millennial downfall
Is our pride and false wisdom
Our obsession with highs
And our lack of true love
Productivity stems from caffeine
Willpower forgotten
Smitten with celebrities
Elevating internet fame
We see the world through a lens
Not knowing how to go get it
Conquered by lack of likes
We fall, defeated
Crushed by self-loathing
In comparison to others
We fall short in our eyes