To Heal


Repeating from March 2015:

cross

Reading Isaiah 53:5

Scourged To Heal

Near lictors, nauseated and sweating,
we seek to know our ailing, to confess our place,
and there to seek wellness.
The scourge, so devious, so malevolent,
made most evil by man, is
laid upon His tender body, and we feel each lashing in
ways barely known.
We see Him new each time.
Wet and lacerated, in red risen welts,
there is pain and healing found.
Bound, the way to freedom, and beaten fiercely,
He suffers before me,
before my soul, my weeping presence,
and I will be healed.
In fairness, torn apart, and purity
set aside in bloody flesh,
we are there, and aware,
barely alone in absolute agony,
in community, yet alone.
And the love grows inside,
healing the body, the spirit, the me.
He heals; scourged, He loves.
We are healed each day.
The sharpest scourge breaks the heart,
and in that broken place, there is fresh healing.

–Tom Bolton, 31 March 2015, Bay View

 

 

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Today’s Bread


This has been a favorite over the years:

Manna in My Life

Not so hungry in my belly, I still love
My morning manna.
Some mornings I put nut spread on my matzoh,
and taste and texture combine to thrill me.
And better than hard rolls in the morning,
We are made to be the yeast to raise the bread.
When the flour is whole and coarse and real,
The yeast works wonders in the bread.

Not so hungry in my belly,
Still I hunger in the morning.
The Word fills me in ways I feel deep in me.
Deep in me, my health surges.
Deep in my gray matter, my thoughts are vital.
Deep in my soul, I am eternal.
I am blessed to be filled each day.
Thank you for my daily bread.

(c) Tom Bolton, April 24, 2012, Milwaukee

On reading John 6

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A Good End


John Wesley Sang this great hymn by Isaac Watts in his death bed. I am remembering the hymn as I prepare for the 6th Chapter of our Revival Sunday School Class this week. This version is presented with lyrics from the United Methodist Hymnal.

I’ll praise my Maker while I’ve breath,
and when my voice is lost in death,
praise shall employ my nobler powers;
my days of praise shall ne’er be past,
while life, and thought, and being last,
or immortality endures.

 

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I’ll Praise My Maker


John Wesley Sang this great hymn by Isaac Watts in his death bed.  I am remembering the hymn as I prepare for the 6th Chapter of our Revival Sunday School Class this week.   This version is with the John Milns Chorale conducted by Mr. Jabez Janagraj.

I’ll praise my Maker while I’ve breath,
and when my voice is lost in death,
praise shall employ my nobler powers;
my days of praise shall ne’er be past,
while life, and thought, and being last,
or immortality endures.

 

 

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Freedom in the Word


Another older piece on freedom, from On Word, Law and Life:

Commanded, Living Free

Commanded to live, keep me free, alive, awash in Your Word, cleansed in Your Word,
Cleansed, clinging to Commandments, relationships freed, miracles clearly seen.
Clinging, clawing my way through this strange New World, keep me, hold me in Your Word.
My soul clamors, longing for Your Word, even when I jerk to deny, clamoring for Your Word.
Condemned, firm in the center, encircled in me, we, greedy ones, circle around, condemned, away from Your Word.
Aware, and back, and in Your Command,
Contempt burns me, and faltering I come back.
Contempt around me, I seize the Word,
alive and aware, alive in Your Word.
Clearly these Words guide me, alive, with joy,
At peace, mes amis, alive in Your Word. Amen.
Condemned, away from the Word, was Esau hated, or away–simply away–away from the Word?

Elevated, Enlightened

Enough! Again enough! Educated in your laws, I obey them to the end. Endless.
Enlighten me each day; fill my mind gently, and I will hold your heavenly edicts in my heart.
Encircling this earthly tabernacle on this rolling path, I am giddy now; keep me joyful, heavenly one.
Enjoying the rich, enriching edicts of your word, ground me, keep me here,
Ensnared not by these get-rich-quick schemes so frequent here.
Joy in the Word, Blessed!

(c) Tom Bolton, December 2011

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Edging Freedom


From the past,  from Psalm 90

A prayer of Moses the man of God.

Lord, you have been our dwelling place
throughout all generations.

Before the mountains were born
or you brought forth the whole world,
from everlasting to everlasting you are God.

 

 

God is at the Edge

Our refuge always–
at the beginning and in the future–
the Light is with us and we are
Warm and Safe always when we take refuge with him.
This earth is majestic,
Miraculously beautiful even as we abuse it.
Mountains and seas, our eyes open wider than
We can imagine.
At the edge of everything,
There is God.
Do we now edge him out,
in awe of technology and gadgets and self-healing cement?
New insects found, do we now take credit?
Insects lost and condemned by our pesticides, do we
also take credit?
New worlds seen through lenses-not-lenses and
barely understood by lay men,
do we now credit these stars and worlds to men?
New knowledge blown wide open,
Do we know too much more, as we edge past our Lord?
New answers found to questions barely heard,
Do we place ourselves on thrones?
New whats-found-wondrous,
Do we lose the whys and forget the whos?
Can the wide-blown new knowledge edge out time-freed faith?
Will we yet let it?
We may yet look past the bright lights,
led’s, and laser tools,
to see Himself revealed,
Jesus still in us.
We open ourselves, miraculous and limited still.
We open ourselves, for the Holy one to enter each.

(c) Tom Bolton, Milwaukee, September 27, 2012.

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Just Freedom


From 2014

Luke 4:18-19

New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

18 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
19 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

dbs5

Don’t Panic

In me, the Spirit strikes dissonant notes,

harsh chimes to get my attention, and

I know too the glorious hymns of praise,

the sweet flute and glorious strings of gorgeous musicians,

and striking hymns of Michelle, John, Ray and Kaitlyn,

but today and often,

the chimes are discordant,

and now I hear the Word.

Oppressed are not free when they have not heard,

Town councils are not just unless they hear.

Mother maidens are not released until they hear,

Laborers labor in vain until they hear.

We listen and hear:

Joy in the Word!

Justice for the world.

(c) Tom Bolton, 26 January 2014, West Allis

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