Saturday, March 30, 2024

Saturday He goes unto the Faithful in the Spiritworld

 Jesus Christ while his body rests in the sepulchre, goes unto the faithful in the spiritworld preaching the gospel and doctrine of the resurrection of mankind from the fall and from individual sins on condition of repentence. 

"So they went, and made the sepulchre sure, sealing 
the stone, and setting a watch."
Matthew 27:66


Thursday, March 28, 2024

Jesus Taught His Disciples in the Upper Room

 


The Light of Christ is My Beacon

 "My Beacon"
When worldly cares beset my fearful soul,
I'll not forget the one who makes me whole.
Through mortal eyes I often cannot see
His outstretched hand that beckons, "Come to me."
When my soul hungers and my spirit thirsts,
I will remember Him who love me first.
His word like manna nourishes me still.
I drink of truth and know I will be filled.

When dark surrounds me and I fail and fall,
   send me Thy light. Oh hear my helpless call.
When Satan's arrows pierce my armor thin,
Be Thou my shield, help me the fight to win.
The storm is past, no longer do I fear
As clouds depart I feel Thee Savior near.

My seed of faith I placed in Thee alone,
   and Thy great power was once again made known.
With my whole heart I'll lift my voice and sing,
   my praise of thanks to Thee, who art my King.
And in thy precious bosom I will hide
   my face and in Thy perfect love abide
.© skkingrey
My dear friend wrote this poem.


Monday, February 5, 2024

Blessed Patriarch, Isaiah

 

Blessed Patriarch 

             This a poem to you, Isaiah,                

white haired, bent over your scroll,

weighed down with a vision’s burden.

Ancient prophet, whose life was in a palace,

yet servant of our King.

Your place was unique in time, chosen.

Our Father loved and trusted you.

As I read and ponder your words,

my world changes;

a polar shift occurs.

The mystery of your words

sift into spirit patterns of meaning,

the language of the Lord,

touching the center place of my soul.

Illumination bursts forth,

I know who I am now.

Chosen and set apart in the preexistence,

to write of these last days,

the songs of His heart for me. 

I can see more clearly

the face of my Counselor,

my God and my King.

The heavens unroll as a scroll

because of you,

Oh, blessed of patriarchs,

Great are the Words of Isaiah.


2005 Beverly E. Field

 


Ancestors Influence Us

 

Ancestors

They speak to us through wills,

And birth certificates, journals

And marriage licenses,

To tell us what they did and how they lived,

Of how they fought in wars and revolutions,

Or stayed at home and raised

Their crops of corn and children

 

As we search and find the documents

That tell of great events and small,

Our eyes of love clothe these words

On dry and dusty paper with living flesh.

On imagination’s stage they dart about

With the burning energy of youth,

Or limp along on tired legs

Of pioneers who near their journey’s end.

 

I knew you not, but now I know you.

Your blood is mine, your struggles gave me life.

Had you not been, I would not be.

And as I resurrect the past

Through microfilm, CD and book,

I only pray that some day one will say

Of me, I knew him not, but I am proud

To have his genes within, making me

A little bit like him.

 2005 Robert E. Field