Mind Your Manner

    Those of you who watch sports or listen to sports talk on your radio have likely heard something about a former NFL player’s vicious attack upon his former employers.  He is angry about what he perceives to be the NFL’s unfair and hurtful treatment of its players over a wide spectrum of issues.  Each of his complaints and indictments was sent via Twitter.  From what I understand many of the arguments he makes are very valid and truly worthy of discussion.  So why isn’t anyone actually discussing them?  Because he began each of his tweets with a capitalized expletive while sprinkling many more throughout each tweet.  Now the only thing receiving any attention is the atrocious attitude and manner of the disgruntled former player. 

    Is in not interesting how the force of one’s argument or the validity of his points can quickly become of secondary importance, or of no importance at all, based upon the way he conducts himself when making them?  As I heard of the former players profanity laced tirade three verses from Proverbs came to my mind.  “A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls” (25:28), “A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back” (29:11), “If a wise man has an argument with a fool, the fool only rages and laughs, and there is no quiet” (29:9).  It is the fool, not the wise man, who feels the need for regular “venting.”  It is the fool, not the wise man, who must rage and “get it all out.”  Indeed, calmness of spirit is one of the defining characteristics of the wise. 

    As I think about this situation I cannot help but recall conversations Christians have been engaged in with each other and those who have not put on Christ.  I must confess that I am sometimes dumbfounded by the manner in which Christians speak, particularly when involved in a spiritual discussion.  This is especially true over social media sites (Facebook, etc).  How incongruous for a Christian who brazenly questions a person’s intelligence, honesty, motives, and spirituality to conclude by saying, “I love you and just want what’s best for you.” 

    Friends, far too many conversations between Christians and those who desperately need to be led to the truth and away from error end badly because the Christian behaved in a very unchristian manner throughout the discussion.  When someone disagrees with us it is not necessarily because they are dishonest, unintelligent, selfish, unloving, and unspiritual.  It could be that they are honestly mistaken and need someone to help guide them in a loving, compassionate manner.  It could even be that we are wrong and need to be taught the truth more correctly from Scripture.  Either way, it is next to impossible to get someone to seriously consider the truthfulness of one’s words when the manner in which they are spoken is insulting, condescending, and just plain mean.

    “Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person” (Colossians 4:6).  Paul’s statement encompasses not just our words, but the manner in which they are spoken.  Let’s make sure we are minding our manner.          

Precious

Precious in our Father's eyes,
Is the saint who in His grace dies.
Freed from all pain and strife,
Rewarded with the crown of life.

Precious when the race is run,
Is the saint who hears Christ's "Well done!"
Serving the King of kings,
Victorious in Christ they sing!

Precious thoughts of saints passed on,
Each deeply missed but far from gone.
What a cloud they comprise!
When we fall they shout, "Arise!"

Precious Jesus store my soul,
when lightning's flash and thunders roll.
Tell me when time is through,
That I have been precious to You.

I Can Hear Him Calling

I can hear my Savior calling, I can hear my Savior’s voice,

I can hear the One who died upon a tree.

Now the devil cannot stop me for that Savior is my choice,

And in Him I know I’ve gained the victory.

 

Brother can you hear Him calling, can you hear His voice today,

Have you tuned your ears to hear His welcome plea?

Don’t you turn your back upon Him, let Him in your life to stay,

It was He who died for you on Calvary!

 

Soon that trumpet will be sounding and our Lord will then descend,

Bringing with Him mighty angels and their swords.

There will be no more denying Him here at the very end,

Dearest brother, what will be your life’s reward?

 

I can hear the Savior calling, and I know He calls to me,

And I know I’ll never have to dwell alone.

For His blood spells forgiveness and that blood has set me free,

And I can hear my Savior calling me, “Come home!”

From Whom All Blessings Flow

Purchased with the blood of Christ, my life is not my own.
Reaching forward to the goal, My Savior's lovely throne.
Counting down these days below, and longing for the time;
When my Lord embraces me in Heaven's wondrous clime.

Thinking of those drops of blood that cleansed my soul within.
Speechless at His matchless love, to prayer I flee again.
O the arms of my dear Lord, a shield about my soul!
His salvation succors me, my name's on Heaven's role

O you lost now turn to me and hear my words of praise.
He would be your Savior, too, redeeming all your days.
Nail-scarred hands speak tenderness, a strong desire to save.
Open arms now beckon you, be rescued from the grave!

Dearest Lord, unshackle me!  Please break this world's strong hold!
Show it as it really is: so dark, so drear, so cold.
Faith will soon be sight, O Lord, all pain and sin disposed.
I will soon stand next to Him from whom all blessings flow!

I Confess

When my feet are weary and sore, and my steps uncertain, unsure;

When my soul’s distressed, and I beat my breast, and I’m shaken down to my core.

Then I turn my eyes to the Lord, holding fast to mercy’s strong cord.

And I know all’s well, and my heart does swell, for my faith is to Him moored. 

For You are my God, and You are my righteousness!

For You are my peace, the One who gives me rest!

And You are my Shield, I shout Your blessedness!

And You are my joy, I can’t help but confess!

And I, O God, I confess.

I have cried aloud to my God, and He sees wherever I trod.

For His eyes are there, whether storm or fair, and He loves me though I’m flawed.

Now He guides me to waters calm, His saving grace a constant balm.

He restores my soul, and He makes me whole, and He holds me in His palm.

For You are my God, and You are my righteousness!

For You are my peace, the One who gives me rest!

And You are my Shield, I shout Your blessedness!

And You are my joy, I can’t help but confess!

And I, O God, I confess.  

Let It Be Me

I cannot pay back the debt that I owe.
The extent of my need I'll never know.
But Father hear, and give ear to my plea;
When You need a servant, let it be me.

So broken and wounded, stained dark with sin;
Yet cleansed by Your grace, without and within.
The lost are many and long to be free!
Someone must tell them, please let it be me!

My shield and my comfort, You are my Lord.
I soar like an eagle, Your word my sword.
When You need a saint unwilling to flee,
Strengthen my courage and let it be me!

O let it be me!  Just let it be me!
Faithful and true, a disciple I'd be.
O let it be me!  Just let it be me!
I'm set for Your use, please let it be me!

Saved

Each new day brings its trouble,
It has its share of strife.
Though it assaults with vigor and force,
My anthem remains eternal life.

Salvation belongs to my God,
Who has seen all His children blest.
And though beset by circumstance,
He lays them down in peaceful rest.

Let us cry aloud now to our God,
For His ear is bent to our plea.
Approaching His throne with confidence,
From Satan we have been set free.

This is not to say we're not still lashed,
As the storms of life blow to and fro.
But it is a calm assertion,
That even then our faith will grow.

Saved!  How that word now thrills the soul,
And is to the heart a constant balm!
We know not what the morrow brings,
But saved, we'll face it all with calm.

A Psalm Of Adoration

O God, my heart soars as I ponder You.
In the stillness of the night my soul longs for You.
May every intention of my heart be pure in Your eyes,
And every word that I speak pleasing to Your ears.
O my God, if I had not You where could I turn?
You fill my life with joy and blessing,
And my words of thanks can never satisfy the debt I owe.
Would that Your Son return now, my Father!
All my bones tremble in anticipation,
And the glories of heaven spark my longing.
How may one as unworthy as I claim Your love?
O thank You, Father, for the gift of Your Son!
What more can I say of You, my God?
What greater praise might I offer?
Behold, all that I am lay at Your feet.
All that I will one day be is due to You!
Your grace and mercy overwhelms me.
Your patience is a boon to my soul.
O Father, You will forever be my God!

Who is this man?

Who is this man going from town to town,
Rebuking religious elite, not giving an inch of ground?
With great authority his voice carries on the wind,
And he claims even the right to forgive men their sins!

Who is this man to whom the wretched flock,
Imploring hands extended as though he were their rock?
From whence the compassion shining in his eyes,
And the strength of spirit as he gazes to the skies?

Who is this man laying his hands upon the lame,
Healing high and low alike and treating everyone the same?
He walks among the penniless and the well-to-do,
Their need for a Savior binding them like glue.

Who is this man that winds and sea should obey his voice,
Submitting in a moment as though they had no choice?
With awe in their hearts the men looked all around;
Those who had been certain that they were to be drowned.

Who is this man now exhausted at the end of day,
Yet scorning needed sleep to bow his head and pray?
Entire nights spent in isolation, though never truly alone,
For his spirit knelt before his Father's lovely throne.

Who is this man whose tortured body drips with precious blood,
Whose load becomes so heavy he falls into the mud?
Nails pierced his hands and then they pierced his feet;
And it seemed at the end his mission spelled defeat.

Who is this man who rose triumphant from his tomb,
Treating death with contempt and rising from its gloom?
He ascended up to Heaven, to his Father above,
After having accomplished the greatest act of love.

So who is this man and why should we care,
With so much to do and many loads to bear?
Truly there is no way to quantify his worth;
For his name is Jesus Christ, the Savior of the earth!

The Bearer Of Tales

Like a delicious morsel sweet to the taste,
Is the scandalous rumor spoken in haste.
It goes down smooth and causes a stir,
And proceeds from the lips with a satisfied purr.

Like a dry forest now set ablaze,
There's no finding the source through the haze.
That which began as rumor is now stated as fact.
"You didn't hear this from me," the agreed upon pact.

A reputation is ruined as the story proceeds,
Rumor is never satisfied until it breeds.
Now here is anger and there is shame,
While the father of lies gladly takes blame.

How is the Lord honored in any of this?
To what does it lead if not the abyss?
Now suspicion, anger, and a desire to rend,
Dwell where unity and peace should have been.

May God be patient with the bearer of tales!
May they avoid the sudden chorus of wails!
Let them now recall their place as priest,
And pursue those things that make for peace!

Willing Clay

I call upon the earth and sky,
Whose grandeur fills my wondering eye.
Bear witness now and hear my claim,
As I speak of He who stays the same.

You oceans deep, now hear my voice,
Consider my words and rejoice.
O mighty winds, shy not away,
For you must hear my words this day.

Let all the earth now gather to me.
Come in haste for you must see!
Do not speak, only lend an ear,
And consider now the words you hear.

Jesus Christ is the Lamb of God,
And upon this earth His steps have trod.
He shed His blood though He knew no blame,
To save my soul from a burning flame.

Now I stand aware of my sins,
Shame and joy warring within.
Who am I that He shed His blood,
Upon that hill of clay and mud?

I praise Him now as best I can,
Though how unsuitable the words of man!
I'm at His side and there I'll stay.
So mold now, Potter, Your willing clay.

Always Near

High atop the peaks of ease,
Where all is calm and fair.
Where gentle breezes lift the soul,
I find my Savior there.

Drifting back to the plains below,
Back to the barren ground.
My heart remains light and free,
For I hear my Savior's sound.

Now down into the depths of gloom,
Dreary valley's pierce the land.
Yet the other side is but steps away,
For my Savior extends His hand.

Whether in the heavens high above,
Or in a cold and dismal place,
My feet are sure, my resolve is strong,
Enclosed in arms of grace.

So count me among that happy throng,
Rejoicing that our souls are stored.
Fearing not to admit weaknesses,
And boasting proudly in our Lord.

Two New Books

Greetings all.  Rhyme and Reason and An Evening With Jesus have been released for purchase simply by clicking on their book covers to the right.  Rhyme and Reason is a collection of poetry that I have written over several years.  An Evening With Jesus is a "short story poem" in which a Christian spends an entire evening with Jesus as he dreams.  It is a story of growth and redemption.  I invite you to check them out.  Happy reading!