PSALMS OF PRAISE

The Agent, the Word of Creation, even Jesus, stepped to the shore, and looked upon the watery expanse. The sun, a golden disk, playfully hopscotched across the water’s waves for His pleasure. He, humankind’s best Friend, and Savior, had walked upon those waves, waves that yielded to His Word. The water of Galilee beckoned to […]

A Huge S On His Chest A Mustard Seed A Savior’s Work A Title Shot Abiding Strength Apostasy As From The Because God Willed It to be So Beloved Flock Be Of Good Cheer Birthed into Eternity Blessed Dependence Blessed Scapegoat in Red Blessed Testimony Christian Conduits Christmas Digammas Drawn Easter Acrostic Easter Message Ever

Who wears a huge S on His chest? Christ the Savior, a little s for all the rest.  Who wears a huge S on His chest? Christ the Savior, hands-down, the best.  Who wears a huge S on His chest? Christ the Savior, yea, the worthiest.  Who wears a huge S on His chest? Christ

A man once planted a mustard seed, in rough unbroken ground, like the one he’d heard the Nazarene declare one sunny autumn day. He’d heard him speak, saw him heal, pious phonies aplenty confound, and said in his heart, I will inch out in faith, to his Father I will pray— I am not really

While walking in darkness, sure and proud, I was fearful of nothing, and talking loud.   I produced a plan by which to achieve and gain, even manifest at the expense of others’ pain.   Your laws, and your life, seemed insignificant, at best, though secretly I hoped you’d be there, if put to the

A boxer’s praising recollections…  O, my Lord, the fight started out so badly. He stalked me and caught me with some hard blows that rocked me and buckled me. I tried to stick and move and dance but he was so fast; my what fast, fast hands he had, and the fight kept going his

yet fragile in her strength, yet strong in her fragility…   There is such a fine line between strength and weakness, it is easily crossed in the negative. Sometimes it happens suddenly, oftentimes it happens gradually. It does not matter the pace, it is inevitable; such is the way of physical things.   A young

The kiss of a friend, set you up to be rent.   Still you gave him a cheek, with a long teary streak.   How your heart ached and mourned, when his eyes looked at your’n.   For in his gaze you perceived, your loving trust so deceived.   And you knew he’d be lost,

As from the outside looking in, it does separate us, does my sin, it separates us, does my sin, it empties me sore cold, it empties me sore, does my sin.            As from the inside looking out, you do bind us, do you devout, you bind us, do you devout, you fill me

  —Earthy Things—   Our practical universe functions algorithmically in a framework of causality, and causality is exactly preserved irrespective of mundane points of view, of which none is preferred—directionally, quantitatively—because God willed it to be so.   Space and time are different aspects of the same thing, and the speed of light in vacuum