Comfort in the Signs of the Times

Many faithful heroes past,
In their trying hour,
Have withstood the tempter's blast
By God's grace and power.
When alone and lost they felt,
Strangled by a sinful belt,
When by evil torn and rent,
God's encourgement was sent.

Noah's family was alone
In their ark of wood.
Buffeted by tempest's moan,
rising on a flood.
While in number only eight,
Trusted they, despite their state,
And God ebbed the mighty flow
And in comofort stretched His bow.

Gideon was full of fear,
Trembled he, with dread
As the battle time drew near,
Set not far ahead.
Yet in humble trusting he
Asked God for a sign to see,
And God sent Him special peace
And in comfort dried his fleece.

Moses didn't want to go
Back to Egypt's land.
By himself great wonders show,
All alone to stand.
Yet by faith he took the leap
Trusting God His word to keep,
And God honored from above
And through signs He proved His love.

So may we, in these dark days
Trust what God has said.
And despite the sinful haze,
glimpse the light ahead.
Every scripture student knows,
History is about to close.
Yet, the signs we needn't fear:
They bring hope that God is near.

Honing the Senses

Muck. Leafless twigs. Soggy trash revealed by the melted snow. Gray mist obscuring everything. This is Vejlefjord in March. Even the most optomistic soul quickly becomes discouraged from searching for visible beauty in the surrounding view. I have thus found it necessary to hone my other senses in order to maintain a moderate degree of cheerfulness. If everything is ugly, why not just close my eyes? I have four other sense with which to appreciate the world. While jogging through the bleak woods a few weeks ago, I decided to do just that. Turning my eyes down to the ground, I focused all of my attention on my ears. I would listen for the sounds of beauty if I couldn't see the signs of beauty. The morning was still; not a breath of breeze rustled the dead twigs. Yet, as I panted up and down the muddy knolls, I enjoyed one of the sweetest symphonies nature can muster: a chorus of bird calls. The participants were infinitely diverse. A blue tit peeped at me from a passing bush. A pheasant and his mate squawked from the top of a distant hill. A fjord swan whistled shrilly through his wings as he flew over my head. I shook my head in awe at the wonder of it all. What variety there is to be enjoyed through only one sense! In fact, not only through one sense, but more specific still, through only one class of the animal kindgom! I had only listened to bird noises. Yet, the sounds had been so vastly different, that I never would've guessed they came from similar creatures unless I had already known. God is infinite. He cannot be limited by our weaknesses and faults. If we can't see, He will call to us. If we can't hear, He will reach out and touch us. When we fence ourselves in, when we block our alternate routes, when we limit our attention to only one possibility, God can still get through to us. If we look for Him through the tiny peephole in our self-constructed box, He will reveal himself. He works through our limitations. He has an endless variety of ways to reach us, no matter what barriers there appear to be. If all is muck and debri around you, if you recognize your limitations, then hone your remaining senses towards God. He has a way to reach you, if you want to be reached.