In the Magic of the Night

Yellow Squares






Yellow squares.
In the night.
A beacon in the blue.
Fog of soul and earth swallow.
In the magic of the night.

The whole world rearranged, reborn.
The grown-up world put to rest.
Imagination brought to life.
In the magic of the night.

Not afraid of the dark. No more.
The mystery of the night is a friend, not foe.
Embracing me with freedom.
Freedom to be who I really am.
An artist, a writer, a dreamer.
In the magic of the night.


So much excitement and expectation I think I am going to puke.
Nervous families cram into bleachers- 365 days of waiting to end in but moments.
Wave upon wave of emotion fills the place- all the longing and loneliness and missing each other reaching its zenith tonight.
Every second my smile breaks out again.
In seconds I will be in his arms and everything will be ok.
I will be where I belong. And he will be where he belongs.
Here with me. 

My stomach does a roller coaster flop as they open the doors.
With fog machines blowing and Toby Keith blaring, Heroes march in.
At the order of dismissal, I search for him among the sea of camo souls.
Looking, turning, running, I see his face.
Crashing in his arms, he is finally here.

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The Lord amazes me.
How often we think of Him as stuffy, boring, and static.
But He is the most passionate, wild-hearted Being in all existence.

In Psalm 23:3a, He proclaims that He “restores our souls”. More than just a renovation of our interior, the Hebrew meaning goes so much deeper. Restore (shuwb in Hebrew) means to bring home again. In the same way a bride runs to her returning soldier, so our Father rushes to embrace us. To usher us home.

His heart is not calm and dispassionate. He wildly rocks us in His arms with ecstatic delight. Like the father of the prodigal son, His heart is ablaze for us! And He has been waiting, anticipating, craving our return.

And finally, finally we are Home.

The Investment








Of late, I have been spending hours, days, weeks thinking about an investment.
Not an investment of silver or gold, or the common currency of this day, but of life. 

What is worth the investment of my whole life?
What cause is worth me trading my 80 more years, short as they might be?

For what cause can I look back at the end of my days and be assured most deeply that I did not sow my life in vain? The eternal sorrow- to have wasted one’s precious gift of life.

I am reminded constantly of Wilberforce, who with a lifetime of steady application and worthy investment, changed the plight of millions.

He did what he was supposed to do.
At the end of my life, will I be able to say the same?

The problems of the world seem crushing. Literally crushing the life out of me, with all the pressing in. The oppressed orphans, the forgotten elderly, the murdered millions. The immeasurable trauma and heartache.

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Lord, I want my life to be a worthy one.
I want to sow, and strive, and strain for a cause that is worth my life.

Father, however small or however large Your assignment for me, make me fit and ready for the task . Make me as a strong man to run his race.

The plan for my life is outside of myself.
My steps are of You.
How then can I understand my own way?

You must lead and guide me, Father.
Each effort of self-guidance and each voyage of self-discovery lose me further still.

Father, lead and guide me into Your plan for my life.
I commit to spend my life fulfilling the cause, whatever it might be.
I care not what the task is.
Only that it might make Your name great- 
and that I might look back on my life with the joy of knowing I spent it right.