my weak times

September 28, 2013 by Rick Stassi you

“He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.
To him who overcomes I will give to eat from the tree of life,
which is in the midst of the Paradise of God.” Revelations 2:7 (NKJV)

How shall I measure my progress, Father above?
The swallowing sea gives my faith an impudent shove.
I wonder in these times if I am seeing Your face,
I wonder how well, or if at all, I am running the race.

Reassurance comes in verses and in prayer
Surely protecting me from the enemy’s lair.
But ever crafty and swift, he knows my weakness.
I feel him near now, Father, to You closer I press.

Then can I turn an unhindered ear?
Come Spirit speak, speak to me clear.
But in my weak times I hardly shall know,
What You, Lord are whispering, whispering so.

Yes in my weak times I feel far away.
Lord all of this world seems to hold sway.
I wonder why I still must endure,
Perfection, I am reminded, in your timing so pure.

So I shall persevere with all of my might,
Penetrated hands remain in my sight.
And thus I’ve become my adversary.
Yet still, to know this, I am surely wary.

Paradise and the Tree of Life,
I will see You Lord, Your love cuts like a knife.
And of my progress and swallowing seas?
I know now, in my weak times, I must return to my knees.

contentment comes

September 22, 2013 by Rick Stassi you

Poppies

Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.
And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4: 6,7 (KJV)

Therefore, “what is contentment?”, me asking forlorn…
I seek with all of my heart, a heart e’er torn.
To my God, imploring answer with reverential fear.
From His heart it comes, with His truth, begins a tear.

Then there stands a poppy, gold and proud,
She and many, so many, blanketing a hillside – color loud.
Content staring at the sun, waiting, for ray of light to show.
What else does she, this poppy, need to know?

Or the robin gathering food and bits to nest,
Busily seeking to gather, no love, no rest.
Ah, but content, she is, to build a place her family for,
Instinctual it is, and to her, there is and shall be no more.

And what of man, what of me?
Where do I look and what do I see?
I am promised much and much is dismissed.
I need something more, something held in my tight fist.

What kind of man will bare his heart?
To ponder the very things promised to we apart.
God wants me to abandon self, die I must!
And I shall rid myself of darkness and gain more trust.

So as I wrestle with thoughts it soon becomes clear
That God purposes for me to draw near.
And with the knowledge of good and evil I find,
The basis of angst and the reeling mind.

“But listen!” He says, unwavering tone, silent ne’er.
“I shed light in your heart to show you thoughts laid bare!
And forget for now robin’s plight and poppy’s witless way.
I give you more. Eternal Life”, He says, “always to stay!”

I rest with this in heart and mind
Rejoicing in what prayers I do find.
And as I shall ask no more, forlorn and lost,
For contentment came with Thorns and Cross.

a prayer for a thistle

September 17, 2013 by Rick Stassi you

And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. Revelations 21:5 (KJV)

Your guardian eyes so warm, removing harm and protecting my way each day. Watched over, I feel safe, secure and steeped in Love. It is Your eyes, Lord, that see me through each abrasion and each incident, turning mismatched moments into seeds of goodness planted deep into my soul. O blissful thought. Watchful eyes turning a bitter and acrid outlook into welcoming warmth. Yes, this is how I hope to be: drawing those into my warmth You provided rather than exuding the bitter glare of the past things in me still half hidden. It is Your guardian eyes that envelope me.

In Your goodness, I forge through paths of nettles and thistle. A thorny weed with a pretty flower is still a thorny weed. Discern appearances, lest be deceived. You tell me this in my heart – answering my prayer, knowing I am mismatched with the surroundings I am in. Separated into goodness. So many scratches on my legs. I was drawn in by the thistle and her pretty purples and blues. Captivated, my eyes deceptively were drawn in. However, I listen to You and know even weeds deserve love. I see their way, misled perspective – short and shallow. They are the remnants of seeds planted on soil not quite prepared enough. Nutrients escape and the hardened clay offers a bed where adaptation is required to survive. Even then, the purples lure. The best you can do poor thistle. Compassion burns within me. God’s goodness brings hope.

Your unmistakable voice, O Lord, thunder and lightning, across valleys scorching mountain tops. Righteousness and truth ought be remembered: “I am God and I am with you”. For the ages. I hear You Father. You will shout and you will whisper. A shout is necessary for me wading ever deeper into the river ready to carry all things to nowhere. I turn back to the water’s edge. Then at night with gentle moon and quiet stars you whisper sweet psalms of joy and wisdom into my heart. It is Your love, both ways. You saved me from the sweeping river to nowhere to bless me with whispers of love. So warm, so loved.

Your guardian eyes, Lord. Steel gaze on all things around. No less me with my eyes looking back. A single tear, a prayer for a thistle. You see her Father. I do too, praying I do through Your eyes. For what You have done for me is ever engraved in my soul and I must break ground and harrow clay to loam. Nutrients are in Your Word and water from Your Spirit. Plant seeds anew and where the thistle once only adapted and survived. Now a blanket of jonquils, daisies, and tulips color the land with yellows and reds. Figs and pears come from trunks stout and firm – roots well watered. Wheat grows for bread. Daily bread.

Oh how I love You. Can I love You more? These days pass and ahead is the horizon – sun waning and moon waxing. All the splendor of Your harmonious way. Help me Lord forge through. To see good. To forgive those adapted to bad. To see guardian eyes looking down upon my upward gaze, Warm, I am, and Loved too. It is wonderful in this way Father. Your path under Your gaze and guided by Your voice. All is bliss, heaven and earth.

green and white

September 7, 2013 by Rick Stassi you

But He knows the way that I take;
When He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold.

Job 23:10

O that I should look upon the past
Still salvaging pieces of things You will outlast
Gripping struggles gone long ago
Greener pastures, whiter snow.

But what is this pain inside my core?
A reminder! Espy the Light on distant shore.
For upon Your path I surely go,
Greener pastures, whiter snow.

For You Lord know the way for me
As you bend and mold my image toward Thee.
And sometimes it hurts, this refining show.
Greener pastures, whiter snow.

Shadows hide the eyes of Peace.
Through them I fumble fears increase.
But, forward, faithful, effortless flow.
Greener pastures, whiter snow.

Greener pastures, whiter snow.
A promise that to Thou I surely go.
And sit upon a rock, or tuft of grass,
I did doubt a little though, I sigh alas.

To the depths of Your heart I seek,
Traverse graven valleys, mountain peak.
The promise when I am feeling low,
Greener pastures, whiter snow.

O that Your thoughts would be e’er for me.
I dash all fears upon the sea.
Now looking forward seeds to sow,
Greener pastures, whiter snow.