Finally

Broken.
Finally broken,
The chains fall to the ground
with a thud of the old
battle hardly won.
The heavy bond has fallen
in the dust.

My chains are broken,
I am set free.
The heaviest of all my bonds
was my pretending
to be free.
On top of this I’ve heaped
all of my hidden chains.

When arrows come my way
and bring me to the ground,
I’d rather get myself
knocked out for good
than push through
this dreadful aftermath.
I must pick myself up.
Scrape off my knees,
Brush myself off
And rise taller than before.

Still will I lift up my voice:
my chains are gone!
I will rise up,
Dust off the bruises on knees,
holding the Saviour’s hand,
I will walk on.
It’s through his righteousness
I rise and live.
He’s my redemption,
my sanctification,
I am set free.
Finally free!

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The last atonement day!

The day of atonement!
It’s coming, coming soon.
Fourteen days and the feast
will commence.
The high-priest takes
of the blood of bulls
and rams,
goats and lambs
on the day of atonement,
When the priest would go
in the most Holy Place
with the blood of bull and rams
Sprinkling over the seat of the Most High.
Atonement for him and his own he would make.
The rope attached to his leg,
the bells attached to his robe
would tell us he’s still there.
Seven times we would hear their [clang]
clang, clang,clang, clang, clang, clang, clang.
From behind the veil he would come out
with the censer full of burning coals
as the incense had burnt.
Back again he would go
with the blood of a goat.
Again, seven times would he sprinkle the blood,
for our whole people this time.
Clang, clang, the bells go, seven times.
In the mist of the incense cloud,
In the midst of the One unseen and Most High.
Out he would come with the censer held high
and a cup with the blood of a goat.
Then on another goat’s head
both hands he would place,
Confession for all our transgressions
and iniquities he would make.
He then placed all our sins
on that goat they have cast lots on,
away must be sent with our burden of sins.
All our sins have been taken away
to the wilderness, where no man
will ever set foot.
He would send the scape-goat
with my share of the sin
and it’s been taken away.
The day of atonement,
a day we all can’t wait to see every year.
Yet, there’s still time.
Ten more days.
Today the holy assembly’s called out
with the sounds of the trumpets.
It’s the day for preparing our souls
for the day of atonement.
Today is the feast of the trumpets.
All ’round the land make ready
for the day we all look forward to!

Down through the centuries
preparations were made for the
Perfect blood of the purest Lamb.
We all look forward to him.
No one of old would even dare think
that the perfect offering

to come to the world and make

the atonement for all

would be our own high priest,
even our king.
I heard someone say pointing to a man
“Behold the Lamb who takes away
the sin of the world”.
Just imagine, the entire world,
not just our land but the
whole humankind.
“Is it you?” later on, the same asked,
“or shall we wait for another?”
Lots of them had doubts in their hearts
even to the hour, one evening, he told
his own “this is my blood,
of the New Covenant.
It’s poured out for many,
for the forgiveness of sins.”
Only few took his words to their hearts.
Even fewer dared believe in Him
till that dark night,
when their shepherd was smitten
and the sheep were all scattered.
That night, twelve of the closest
all ran away.

Outside the gates…
some would stare at the offering:
the perfect Lamb shedding
the perfect blood of the Most Holy of all,
The Son of Man and the Son of God.
They would gaze to the blood pouring,
flowing down the tree of curse,
the place of the sacrifice.
There he took the curse, the hurts,
the burden of all sins
of the entire world.
For all humankind he died,
He took our place.
Out of the camp he took our sins.
All guilt is gone,
to wilderness, away is taken,
where no man has ever and will ever
set a foot.
He bore our sin,
It’s all forgiven and forgotten.

The twelve again would gather,
thoughts of their last supper
would come to their minds.
The night he had told them
“this is my blood, drink all of it,
forgiveness to everyone to give.”
The day of atonement has come
And gone is now for good.
The Lamb of God was offered,
yet not by man,
by God he was provided.
This was God’s own atonement day,
Atonement for each and every one of us.

No priest is needed – not again-
with bulls and rams and goats;
The Highest of priests
has come into the world,
His very blood has brought with him.
Into the Holy of Holies he went.
The veil is torn. Now we all can come,
and by his blood we all can claim
atonement for our soul.
The last atonement day has come.
SFR

Blessed

Broken, I miss the broken you
when you couldn’t claim anything
as your own, but your brokenness.
I miss the broken you.

Poor; I miss you when
you didn’t pretend to have it all together,
but you admitted your poverty.
I miss you when you were poor,
when you knew you were in need of me.

Hungry; I miss you when you
were hungry for me, and more of me,
when you were hungry only for me.
But you got hungry for other things,
and you forgot of me.
I miss the hungry you for more of me.

Thirsty; there was a time when you were thirsty
and I would give you water
to spring into eternity.
Your thirst has turned for other things,
before long you forsake my spring.
I miss the thirsty you.

Pure in heart; I miss your heart when so pure was
when to my own was bound in love.
But now your heart holds other lovers dear,
and you forgot your love for me.
I miss your heart so pure.

Mourn; I miss when you were mourning
in time of early hours of prayer
for other souls and for your own,
but now you can’t see your wretchedness,
you do not mourn.
Now it is I who mourn.
I miss you when you were mourning.

Blessed; I miss you when you were blessed
the way I bless you,
when you saw my blessing in your poverty,
my blessing in your brokenness –
to see I make you whole,
my blessing in your purity –
having your heart tied to my own.
when mourning – to mourn with me,
in hunger for me – to know that I satisfy,
in thirst – to know that I quench it.
I miss you when you were all these things,
yet you were glad,
and you rejoiced in me.
SFR 07/06/11

Counter strike

When lies invade your mind
Protect yourself with truth.
Let honorable things be your constant guard,
Respite will never come.
The enemy will throw at you
All things impure,
He will stir up
All of your past and flaws:
Hold fast to what is pure.

All righteous things,
May they abound
Among your thoughts
When those unjust well up –
Concealed volcanoes of the deep.

All that is lovely may ebb and flow
When toxic clouds come fog your mind.
Things of a good report,
And all commendable
Before your eyes you keep.

If there be any virtue,
grab hold of that
and flee from all the filth
that flood your mind and heart.

If there be any praise
I plead with you:
fill up your thoughts with these
and pray the God of peace
your thoughts and heart may guard
in Christ Jesus your King.

If you, indeed, were raised with him
seek all the things above.

All your affection in your heart
be set on things concerning God,
not on the sewage of this world
that oh, so many drink of,
for you have died
but, still, you live
hidden with Christ in God.

So, put to death
all that is of this earth in you,
and rise and reign with Him,
as Christ himself has brought you
into His Kingdom,
through gates of splendour
not opened by men
but by his own bleeding wounds.
His blood has purchased you,
you’re only His,
into the everlasting life
to live solely for Him,
with Him.

One of those

I’m hurt but I don’t feel it.
Something of me is gone.
I walk the ground but
but I don’t feel the soil.
I use my hands
but I’m not whole.

They see me and
all walk away.
No touch am I allowed.
No love and no consideration.
I’m poor, rejected, on my own,
yet, I can’t live alone.

I’ve hurt myself
and still I do.
The sores are everywhere.
The greatest ache of all
I have, is not
feeling pain at all.
And still I hurt.

Some sores, have been done unto me.
Others, I’ve done myself.
The hardest pain
still is
that there is no pain at all.
If only I could feel.

There is no coming back
to wholeness.
No expectation, no hope for me.
Though, there’s a rumour
that in another land,
and in another time
One man has walked the earth
And touched my kind.

He made them feel again.
He gave them hopes and dreams,
He welcomed back to him
the ones they banished and
walked past.
He made them whole again.

I am one of that kind.
But blessed feet don’t
walk my land.
Rumours still go and come
onto the highways and the hedges.

I am still here waiting for
blessed feet to come.
Waiting for those hands
to welcome me.
I’m one of the unwhole.
I’m one of those they call
a leper.
(C) SFR 03/07/11

Hold your ground!

“I’m tired of all this iron,
exhausted of carrying on this road.
This sword is so heavy,
the breastplate weighs me down.
This shield is useless and I can’t bear it.
And on this steep hill
I’m tired of dragging up my feet.
My eyes grew weary of all the watchful hours.
Day in and day out.
I’ve had enough.
I break away now from this place. “

“ Hold your ground!
Under no circumstances
you run away frantically
in the face of your enemy,
throwing away your shield,
your breastplate, your helmet
your sword.
You’ll be dead the second
You take leave of this place.
Without me, you’re dead.
Thousands of arrows
will pierce your heart.

If you want to live
you carry this iron on you.
Though your armor heavy be,
You’re still alive, fighting for me.
Your weapon will find its use
When in my battles against the enemy,
The world and sin you’ll fight,
And quench the fiery darts.

There is no other choice:
You live, fighting along with me,
Or you die along with them.
You want to live, you fight
Every single day of your entire life.
The moment you stop watching and fighting
It’s when you will go down.

So, take heart, my soldier.
I have overcome the world
I’ve robbed the powers and authorities
And made a public show of them.
I triumphed through my cross.
Take heart, my loved one,
I have won.”

Apr.2014

Trust

“Honour God with your trust”.
It dawned on me like
the soothing rays of the rising sun
after a dreadful stormy night.
I cried over and over again
“Lord, help me trust you”,
but nothing seemed to change.
I am tired of fighting for survival,
keeping my head above the water,
all alone.

Worry, helplessness, confusion…
They, too, fight for survival.
No, they aim for destruction.
Raging, desperate cries:
“Don’t you care that I perish?”
Ravaged thoughts!
Shivering, I hand them over to him.
“He delivered him up for us all,
How shall he not with him also, freely give us
All things?”

Why do you say,
“My way is hidden from the Lord”?
He gives power to the faint,

When you have no might he increases strength.
When you faint and fall exhausted;
you wait for the Lord, he shall renew your force;

you shall mount up with wings like eagles,
you will run and not be weary;

you shall walk and will
not faint.

“What more do you want?
He’s your bleeding Saviour,
He wiped your slate clean.”
His blood purifies your conscience
From the dead works
to serve the mighty King.
You are more than conqueror,
through Christ all things you can do,
because he’s the one giving you
strength.