Alzheimer's Apocalypse

Our youngest daughter
lost her bestfriend today
And it happened
in such a peculiar way…

It wasn’t in an accident
or by some strange death
No, it was an unknown specter
that perpetrated this theft…

Of a mind and soul
from a man so vibrant, caring and sweet
Who’d go that extra mile
just to make your life complete

And as we watched
this gradual unwelcomed decline…
We kept the hope and prayed
for God to restore his mind…

Now with all that’s been said and done
he seems so much worse
And at times I’ve often wondered
is this an ancestral curse?

That befell someone
so unselfish, kind and true
Who worked all his life
and should be facing life anew…

But instead is lost
in the recesses of his mind
With seemingly no way out
from this Alzheimer’s kind

Yet we are still holding on
with the faith to believe
Our prayers for his healing
can still be achieved…

As long as God blesses
him with another day
Who knows that healing
just might come his way.

© c.f. leach, 2021

 'C'

by C.F. Leach

It’s odd to me
As I look into the sea
Of faces partial veiled
Who’s beneath you cannot tell

Eyes peering back at you
As you sort through the residue
Of social distancing and such
Afraid now to even touch

Your very own face
For this action just might erase
You from health into sickness
Another dissension into the quickness

Of a silent disease
A virus if you please
That’s transposing everyday
Making you wonder if there is a way

To escape its icy grip
As you try not to trip
On the rocks of terror, fear and horror
While you pray to see tomorrow

In the light which used to be
That is now the past for you and me
Yet all hope is not lost
Because Someone already paid the cost

For us to live without fear
His presence is forever near
Just continue to walk in truth
Where you victory will be absolute

As you feel the residue
Now you’ve finally gotten the clue
Thank God sitting on His throne above
Who never lets us fall from His wings of love.

© Rhema International. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission, from this blog’s author and/or owner, is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Rhema International.

 Whose Holiday Is It?

Christmas lights flashing with such reverb
Before the first Thanksgiving Day turkey is even served

Newscasters pleading we need food and toys to help the poor
While stock market analysts make sales projections for the stores

Whose holiday is it anyway?
The poor and needy are with us everyday

Whatever it takes to make their consciences clearer
Food banks are running low and they need help to deliver

But whose holiday is it really?
People are shopping silly

There are 365 days in every year
For us to spread so much Yuletide cheer

The true meaning of Christmas got lost somewhere
Beneath the reindeer, red suit and white hair

Whose holiday is it actually?
Mass production is going on at all the toy factories

Yet amid the massive shopping hysteria and American Express
Many are still homeless, lost and depressed

Still living in cardboard boxes, under bridges, hungry and unemployed
For the true Christmas Holiday celebrates the birth of our Savior and Lord

He taught us to love our neighbors as well as ourselves
Not some North Pole location full of imaginary elves

It is better to give than to receive every day of the year
Not just in Yuletide season so I hear

When we can master always caring and being genuinely concerned
Then the true meaning of Christmas will be a lesson earnestly learned

Whose holiday is it ?

© c.f. leach, Time Out: Poetic Reflections.

 

As A Seed Becomes A Vision

Guest Post by M.S.Lowndes

God has planted a precious seed

Deep within our hearts,

The seed of a future vision

That He wants to impart

As we are quietly being prepared

To fulfil that which He’s given,

We must gently nurture the seed

Until the full grown vision

God then begins to open doors,

Little by little, as we are led,

So each opportunity we have in Him

Is leading to what lies ahead

Then just at the time God chooses,

We walk into what He has called,

So we can be a blessing to others,

Sharing the love of the Lord.

© By M.S.Lowndes

 A happy vicar I might have been

by George Orwell

A happy vicar I might have been

Two hundred years ago

To preach upon eternal doom

And watch my walnuts grow;

But born, alas, in an evil time,
I missed that pleasant haven,
For the hair has grown on my upper lip
And the clergy are all clean-shaven.

And later still the times were good,
We were so easy to please,
We rocked our troubled thoughts to sleep
On the bosoms of the trees.

All ignorant we dared to own
The joys we now dissemble;
The greenfinch on the apple bough
Could make my enemies tremble.

But girl’s bellies and apricots,
Roach in a shaded stream,
Horses, ducks in flight at dawn,
All these are a dream.

It is forbidden to dream again;
We maim our joys or hide them:
Horses are made of chromium steel
And little fat men shall ride them.

I am the worm who never turned,
The eunuch without a harem;
Between the priest and the commissar
I walk like Eugene Aram;

And the commissar is telling my fortune
While the radio plays,
But the priest has promised an Austin Seven,
For Duggie always pays.

I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls,
And woke to find it true;
I wasn’t born for an age like this;
Was Smith? Was Jones? Were you?

 Tears

by c.f. leach

A cry to the sky

As water pours from my eyes

When my heart if so full of pain

I hide my tears in the rain

Gray skies moving overhead

While I lay prisoner in my bed

To a night of restless thoughts

All this toil and nothing wrought

The Son bursts through the clouds

Disintegrating this invisible shroud

That weighed so heavily on my life

Things are beginning to look right

As He brightly summons the day

Driving the hopelessness and tears away

in the anticipation and faith

Now understanding the wait

For the miraculous to start

With a newly created heart

New strength—new life to begin

It was never a loss—but was always a win.

© Rhema International. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission, from this blog’s author and/or owner, is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Rhema International.

*Header: Teardrop Abstract by Rich Governali.

GRACE

 

Guest Post © by M.S.Lowndes

Gives us a second chance
Redeems us through Christ’s sacrifice
Accepts us into God’s family
Changes our lives to reflect His glory
Embraces the truth…

And is God’s unmerited favour.

We here at Rhemalogy would like to thank M.S. Lowndes for this beautiful piece.

Free Me

by c.f. leach

Free me from the mouth of my mind

The voice talking negative to me all of the time

Free me from these prison walls

That make me feel so trapped, so insignificant and small

Free me from myself seeing no further than right here

When my face is etched with terror and my heart gripped with fear

Free me from the madness I’m trying to escape

That keeps my mind bound in this invisible black tape

Free me from the sorrow of my sordid past

So my spirit is cleansed and I’m able to last…

In this daily battle to do what is right

After fighting my demons all through the night…

To find the true freedom I read in Your word.

“Who the Son sets free is free indeed”, so I heard.

Please free me…

© Rhema International. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission, from this blog’s author and/or owner, is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Rhema International.

The Joyful Journey

 

Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
Proverbs 3:5

by Maurice Dyson (Guest Post)

The Lord by His wisdom has founded the earth;
With judgment the heavens were bound;
The depths were divided when formed at their birth,
And dewdrops fell over the ground.

Let wisdom be kept as the gem of your eyes;
Discretion the object you seek;
So they will be life with no semblance of guise,
Transparent and never oblique.

Your steps will be safe in the valley or glade;
Your foot will not slip on the steep;
And when you lie down you will not be afraid,
For sweetness will compass your sleep.

Do not be alarmed by the terror or sword;
If troublesome times overtake;
The Lord will assuredly be your reward;
His loved ones He’ll never forsake.

The Lord has given Maurice Dyson a wonderful ability to take a passage of Scripture – a story, a Biblical character, a principle of truth – and present it in poetic form.

His aim in writing these poems is to teach people about the Lord, and to draw us back into the Scriptures, so that each of us would search out the wonderful things of God.

This poem is from his book 100 Poems of Praise: Christian Poetry to Praise God.

We would like to thank Mr. Dyson for such a lovely poem.

Printed Purposes

 

by c.f. leach

Every week I peck at these computer keys;

Giving you a glimpse into a world He alone weaves.

That can only be seen by a desperate heart,

Who sees the words more than just creative art…

But printed purposes sent from above;

The way of displaying all His power and love.

In a time when hope seems lost in the darkness of fear,

He wants us all to feel His presence is still here.

If we would just simply open the Book,

And take to ourselves one honest look…

To see the truths that really matter,

Amid all this noisome chatter.

Then our hearts would begin to smile,

Realizing this trouble is only for awhile.

And be thankful unto Him who has only our best interests at heart;

As we take our first steps into our new start.

© Rhema International. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission, from this blog’s author and/or owner, is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Rhema International.

MATURITY

 By Maurice Dyson (Guest Post)

That we henceforth be no more children.

Ephesians 4:14

Teaching on maturity

Is found in sacred writing;

Not just for our purity,

But for the war we’re fighting.

Growing is a learning curve,

While life is still persisting;

Straining every cord and nerve,

And anything worth listing.

Taking in the written word

Is only half the story;

If its use has not occurred,

It cannot count for glory

Christians have a given slot

To minister to others;

With whatever gift they’ve got,

To edify their brothers.

We must have integrity:

The armour God provided;

Satan has a strategy

To get the saints divided.

We can reach maturity

By incremental stages;

Blest with a gratuity

That lasts throughout the ages.

The Lord has given Maurice Dyson a wonderful ability to take a passage of Scripture – a story, a Biblical character, a principle of truth – and present it in poetic form.

His aim in writing these poems is to teach people about the Lord, and to draw us back into the Scriptures, so that each of us would search out the wonderful things of God.

This poem is from his book 100 Poems of Praise: Christian Poetry to Praise God.

We would like to thank Mr. Dyson for such a lovely poem.

To Be Or Not To Be?

Encountered a woman on Thursday, who was not what she appeared to be,

The spirit of the Lord was with her as she sat next to me.

Her soul was of marvelous wonder and curious appeal;

But outwardly her appearance was peculiar, to some unreal.

Others found her quite eccentric, though she would do them harm.

Have our days on this planet made our spirits so lukewarm?

And blind, lest we forget,

That we’ve led peculiar lives and held our cups of regret.

She reminded me of the Baptist in the wilderness shouting, “Repent!”

Beware when entertaining strangers for we know not who the Lord sent.

If your spirit is not discerning, knowing what’s good or bad;

You might just miss a blessing that for you alone GOD had.

*“Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others,”

If your minds be as Christ, all are sisters and brothers.

**“And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and good works.”

Not criticism, laughter, snide remarks and smirks.

To be like GOD is to be love and not to be is also your own choice,

But throwing stones from your glass house is not the way to sound your voice.

For GOD does not see as we see, He judges by the heart alone;

Perhaps now it’s time to use spiritual wisdom and forget the physical we’ve known.

*Philippians 2:4
**Hebrews 10:24

© c.f. leach, Time Out: Poetic Reflections.

© Rhema International. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission, from this blog’s author and/or owner, is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Rhema International.

 

When In Doubt

A lady sat at my desk today, she had one head-on collision;

With hard times and uncertainty which clouded her true vision.

The burdens were too heavy, trials much to hard as the tears began to flow;

“Why are all these things happening to me, I’d really like to know?”

“The harder I try the worse it gets.”

“There’s too much time gone and so many regrets.”

Her eyes emitted desperation one of those familiars cast by the master of illusion;

Which always leads to the wrong conclusion…

That your life is hopeless and there’s just now way to make repairs,

As we began to converse, she realized there was always Someone there.

Who feels your hurt, pain and sorrow;

And if He wills you’ll see a brighter tomorrow,

In the light of joy and truth,

Which means there is living proof….

That when you call Him and sincerely pray;

The Lord will always make a way.

©c.f. leach, Time Out: Poetic Reflections.

©Rhema International. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission, from this blog’s author and/or owner, is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Rhema International

Where Is Home?

Helped my son today with his math,
Trying to lead him down that narrow path.

Quality time with him was spent;
When he’s grown and gone I’ll ponder where the time went…

The time when he needed me;
As he grows older I rarely get to see

Him in the course of a day;
Yet he still gives me a hug and a kiss then he’s on his merry way.

Not has hyper or sporadic as he once used to be;
For some odd reason he takes life more seriously.

Trying so hard to make better grades,
His foundation is now being laid

For home is not simply an address nor a place to relax;
It is a beginning for getting your little ones on the right track.

It is not a structure where you hide and close your bedroom door;
Home is a place where you try much harder to give them more…

Of the tools they’ll need to be in this life complete;
Sanctified wisdom to help them retreat…

Into the spiritual strength;
That helps them overcome the adversary at great length.

And the stamina to endure no matter how hard life’s road may appear;
For the Holy Scriptures teach us to have no fear.

And for that which is righteous always persist;
All that is wrong try diligently to resist.

Home is where true love is found indeed;
Home is where you plant the seed.

©c.f. leach, Time Out: Poetic Reflections.

© Rhema International. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission, from this blog’s author and/or owner, is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Rhema International.