Sunday, June 28, 2009

The Author

An author writes a book with care and skill;
In it he writes of people whom he makes.
These people grow in character and will,
And as the story goes, their self awakes.
At times, the author finds the writing hard
Because the characters don't act as planned,
And when he tries to change, his path is barred;
They've grown a certain way, and there they stand.
And so God works in us as authors do
To fix the problems we've created there.
His job is hard: to change us through and through
So that, our hearts in Him, we will not err.
He makes us new in ways we never see
And by His help, we're who we're meant to be.


Difficult to explain in a single sonnet what I mean, but it's based on some authors' comments that certain characters in their books sort of "take on a life of their own" or can't do certain things that the author wants them to do, simply because they've grown in such a way that it would be nonsensical for the character to do such a thing. God has a similar job as the author who wants to change a character like this. He must work back until He finds the thing in us that keeps us from doing what He wants us to do, then change that. Often, it's hard for us to bear.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

The Blog of Westhill

I've found myself writing a bit of poetry recently, so I thought it would be a good idea to collect it all in one place. Hence, this blog. Every time I write a new poem, I'll post it here, and I will probably occasionally post updates and such from the book I'm writing. I may also post other things from time to time if I think they fit within my bardish capacities.

To begin with, here are the four sonnets I have written recently:


Peter

And Peter remembered how Jesus had said to him,
“Before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me
three times.” And he broke down and wept. - Mark 14:72


A simple fisher, born in Galilee,
He followed Christ, put down his fishing net.
Though prone to anger, prone to disagree,
He followed faithfully with no regret.
But when the Christ was brought to court and tried,
He said he never knew the man, and crept
Away from those to whom he had just lied.
He heard the rooster crow, broke down and wept.
If Peter failed, could such a man as I
Keep faith with Him who died to save my soul?
I fear that I will fall, the same as he.
How then did Peter rise so very high?
God’s Holy Spirit came and made him whole,
And through that Spirit I have victory.


The Promised One

[God] said, "Take your son, your only son Isaac,
whom you love...” - Genesis 22:2

And a voice came from heaven, "You are my beloved
Son; with you I am well pleased.” - Mark 1:11


The promised son, by father loved so much,
Condemned to sacrifice by God’s decree.
Yet Abraham was faithful, and as such
He followed God’s command without a plea.
He reached the mountain, then bound Isaac there,
Prepared to slay him, just as God had said.
When suddenly, before he was aware,
A ram for him to kill in Isaac’s stead.
Two thousand years had passed, the time had come,
And now the Christ was driven to the cross.
Disciples follow, some to grief succumb.
The Father sends Him; He will take the loss.
Unlike that day, no ram to sacrifice:
He, He Himself, alone, must pay the price.


With Great Joy

To Him who is able to keep you from falling and to
present you before His glorious presence without
fault and with great joy... - Jude 24


With sins a man will struggle all his life.
He thinks he should be free, and yet the strife
Continues without end, though oft he prays
For God to take away his sinful ways.
Sometimes his sins will lead him to despair;
Again he’s done things that he cannot bear.
He cries to God to free him from this plight,
But God is silent, and he lives in night.
The man who struggles so sees clear his sin,
But fails to grasp the greater change within.
He struggles still with sin while on this earth,
But Christ has brought about a second birth.
In heaven, spotless and on bended knee
With joy and tears he says at last, “I’m free.”


The First Creator

O Lord, the first creator of all things,
To Thee we lift these words in joyful song;
With th'angels song of praise all heaven rings
To praise the One whose death can right all wrong.
To Thee we lift our hands and anthems raise
Who made us for Thyself and gave us life;
We wonder at Thy love, and give Thee praise
Who saved us through Thy Son when sin was rife.
From Satan's dreadful pow'r You made us free
And suffered on the cross at Calvary
So we would no more suffer for our sin,
And gave us second birth, to live again.
For Thy creation, love, and death so strong,
To Thee we lift these words in joyful song.