Light, light and right

By Heejong Kim

It’s turning to yellow:

Prepare to stop what you’ve been doing.

It’s a red light. Freeze!

Hey there, your foot is stepping over the line. Back off!

Jesus equals our guiding light;

Jesus equals our shining light;

Jesus equals the right light.

Aw, temptations are coming! Yellow light!

You are going the wrong way! Yellow light!

Red light until I solve the problem for you;

Be patient, please.

Now, there you go. Green light! Enjoy our journey!

Jesus is my light, light, and right.

More Glimpses: Quentin W

By Elaine Phillips

Quentin Fredrick Whitford recently left a prosperous career in oil and gas to pursue an urgent desire “to do God’s work all day and every day”; Quentin is currently enrolled in the bachelor of Christian Ministry program at the Canadian Southern Baptist Seminary & College. He is married to his best friend, Kimberly, and they have two sons, Spencer and Landon, both aspiring artists and Lego enthusiasts.

Quentin’s hobbies include drawing, painting, and golf (as well as not writing poetry). His passions consist of loving the Lord with his whole life, loving his wife as Christ loves the church, fathering his children as the Father models being a parent, and making disciples to the glory of God.

The poem, “Futile to Fertile” (see previous post), Quentin’s first—somewhat reluctantly written for a required college class—reveals his Christian experience, his theology, and his yearning to see the power of Christ transform lives.

Imagery is pulled from the parable of the soils (Mark 4:3-4; Mark 4:5-8 ESV) and reflects biblical truth. Without the power of God, fleshly man stands hopeless in the endeavours of righteousness.

Quentin admits he grew up in the church desensitized to the gospel, “talking the talk but not walking the walk.” He went through the standard steps as a young believer, he says, “But I did not yield to the holy hand of God and allow Him to change my heart and renew me; not until I reached my late twenties did I feel the need to have an intimate walk with God.”

For too long he lived the life of a Christian on his own strength—trying and failing, time after time—but he was convicted to the depths of his soul after listening to a powerful, honest, gospel message which showed him his need for total submission to Christ.

Quentin says, “I had to repent, throw myself at the feet of Jesus and allow Him to pull the scales off my hardened heart and expose it to His refining truth. Since then God has cultivated my heart soil to enable me to bear spiritual fruit. He has given me the Spirit’s power to conquer habitual sin as well as a renewed hunger and thirst for His Word and for righteousness.”

He recognizes that it is only by God’s power that his life has been changed, and only by His grace that he can now walk in assurance and joy, covered by the perfect, righteous blood of Jesus Christ. 

Futile to fertile

By Quentin Whitford

Parched and weary, the soil resists me;

the wind is raw, the cracks invade.

Barren, drained, desperate, yearning,

the seed destroyed, a darkened stain.

Incessant thorns, ankles bleeding;

bent and low, the blunted plough.

Wretched root, my heart deceives me;

perpetual toil, I must prevail.

Yoke consumes me, burden bleeding;

in vain I strive to no avail.

Resistant stone, my tissue failing;

affliction breaks the feeble bone.

Collapsing, failing: the ash receives me,

Broken, wasted, hopeless heap.

Crushed, defeated, empty, dying,

I cry, “Oh Master, I’m too weak.”

My eyes grow dim, my breath evades me,

my body still, lifeless and cold.

Awaiting death, I sense a shifting:

horizon fills with brimming cloud.

A distant rumble, a flash of light;

a rushing torrent consumes my soul.

My Master finds me, removes the bindings,

and places me on the solid stone.

A cup is placed to ruined lips:

a cleansing stream, a quenching flood.

Seed enriched, restored, revived

to gain life’s root, where once was death.

The field He sowed, the weeds cast out;

new beauty, fruit and bounty.

By His grace the harvest waits,

a scythe He places in my hand.

Without His power, His hand, His will,

I struggle and I toil in vain.

He alone will nourish the seed,

and He alone be praised.

Why?

By Aleta Shaheen

The young woman cried out to God saying,

Why?

Why do I have to wait, God?

Why?

What difference would it make if I did something now?

Why?

Why can’t I be like everyone else?

Why?

Will I ever be loved by someone?

Why?

Why can’t I just date him?!

Why?

Then God answered,

Why?

Why do you doubt Me?

Why?

Why can’t you just wait for Me?

Why?

Why would you want to be like them?

Why?

Why is My love not enough for you?

Why?

Why can’t you wait for the man I have chosen for you?

Why?

Why can’t you wait for the perfect timing, My timing?

Why?

Then the woman replied,

Why?

Why was I so foolish?

Why?

Why did I doubt You?

Why?

Why did I not see that I was loved?

Why?

Why would I not wait for Your timing?

Why?

Why not?

“I wait quietly before God, for my victory comes from him” (Psalm 62:1).

The flower of hope

By Aleta Shaheen

            The king was dying,

            The royal family was crying.

            The only way to cope

            Was to find the Flower of Hope.

            The flower would heal,

            The flower would reveal

            The reason he was dying,

            The reason they were crying.

            They sent a scout

            Who turned out to be a lout.

            They sent twelve in succession,

            But had no progression.

            They had one last chance

            In a knight named Lance.

            To cure the king of dying,

            To stop the family from crying.

            He rode into the forest

            Where the kingdom was the poorest.

            He rod until he came upon a village,

            He watched as it was being pillaged.

            He ran to fight,

            He fought with all his might.

            To save the king from dying,

            To stop the family from crying.

            The raiders fled

            Then the knight said,

            “I have come for the flower,

            The flower full of power.”

            The people said, “We have a flower,

            But it does not have power.”

            The knight dejectedly replied,

            “No, you must have lied!

            “I must save the king from dying,

            I must stop the family from crying.”

            The people replied,

            “No, we have not lied.

            This power

            Does not come from the flower.

            It comes from the Lord on High

            Who will not be cast aside.

           

            He will save the king from dying,

            He will stop the family from crying.”

            The knight was ecstatic,

            He thought this news fantastic!

            He said, “I came for the flower,

            But I found the Strong Tower!”

            On his horse the knight quickly rode,

            Into the castle he swiftly strode.

            “God can save the king from dying,

            God can stop the family from crying!”

            He shouted this throughout the castle,

            Hastily everyone came as if for battle.

            The queen said, “Where is the flower,

            The one that is full of power?”

            The knight replied, “The flower will not save the king from dying,

            It will not stop the royal family from crying.”

            The queen asked, “How can this be?”

            The knight replied, “Healing comes from God Almighty.”

            The family finally realized

            It had been God whom they had ostracized.

            So they prayed to God for healing,

            They praised him while they were kneeling.

            “The king is not dying,

            The family has stopped crying!”

            This the doctor voiced,

            And all the people rejoiced.

            The flower did not have power,

            The power came from the Strong Tower.

            The people found that the only way to cope

            Was to pray to the God of hope.

“Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad?
I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again—my Savior and my God!” (Psalm 42:7 NLT)

Be still

By Jessie Savard

Sitting on a summer swing,

Rocking in the gentle breeze.

Moist heat still lingers on the skin’s surface

As the freshness of night extinguishes the burning sun.

The melodious lapping of waves against the shore

Ease the mind into the tranquility of the evening to come

And allows the worries of the world to melt away

As the peace of God floods the mind with gratitude of what the Lord has done.

God whispers, “Be still, and know that I am God…”

Eyes remain closed, allowing the senses to become aware of the surroundings,

While still occupying a dream-like state.

The warm duvet assists with the sleepiness of the room,

As does the aroma of breakfast wafting in through the doorway.

The faint laughter of children mingles with the musical wind chimes.

The never ending to-do list seeps into the mind,

But quickly it vanishes as the peace of God descends from Heaven.

God whispers, “Be still, and know that I am God...”

Standing in the middle of a bustling street

In a thoroughly overpopulated city.

Giant buildings tower on every side,

As pedestrians hustle to their destinations in the harsh fall wind.

The scent of pollution fills the air

Mixed with fresh hot dogs from merry street vendors.

In the midst of everything stands a lone figure.

Despite the chaos, there is a tranquil calmness as the sun peeks out from behind a cloud.

God whispers, “Be still, and know that I am God…”

The arrival of snow

By Soon Suk Lee

The

day is so white

everything covered in frost

the dots of white dance in the air

each snowflake delicately lands on soft piles of snow

as night falls and the moon glows brightly

the snow will twinkle like

stars in the dark

night

sky

If I have Jesus

By Heejong Kim

I am in the fog

Shaken

My faith is like a trembling little girl

Light is not bright anymore

Salt is not salty anymore

A dove in the sky falls to earth

I am not dead, but I am dead

I breathe, but I do not breathe

I see, but I do not see

You become my mountain

You become my turning point

I have to die again

So I can be revived

I have to lose

So I gain

Again 

Blue and black

By Heejong Kim

Birds swim in Blue

Fish fly in Blue

Shallow Blue is cool

Deep Blue is cold

Birds do not reach deep Blue

Fish do reach deep Blue

Deep Blue is far, far, far away

Far, far, far away from deep Blue

There is Black

Dark, icy, mysterious Black

Get the light: go explore Black!

Holy

By Frankie Kim

Holy is His name:

He stands on holy ground.

He calls us to His holy Presence

We become holy when we are there

When we stand before Him, He calls us holy

Love is His precious name:

He loves us with His tender heart

He renews us with His tender mind

He wants to receive love from us

He delights in our praise

Endurance is His character:

He has waited since the beginning of the age

He waits for us to turn to Him

He sent His only Son to show the way

We can be holy through the blood of Christ

S-l-o-w-l-y

By Joonha Hwang

let’s walk slowly

if you run too fast, you’ll miss a dog chasing a frog

even though there is wind pushing you with a whip

let’s walk slowly

if you run too fast, you’ll miss a cat sitting on a mat

even though there is wind shoving you with a whip

let’s walk slowly

if you run too fast, you’ll miss a horse jumping over a fence

even though there is wind hitting you with a whip

let’s walk slowly

you’ll get there … eventually

let’s enjoy life

wholly