Poetry, Etc.


Naomi, Naomi, gazing from your window
Why is Ruth so long in coming?
Your heart bears hope, expectancy, fear and dread
Soon the sun will set, soon the danger will be lurking

Naomi, Naomi, looking through your window
Do you see her shadow approaching?
Does she bear a burden?
Or does she carry a dream.

Naomi, Naomi, God’s wearied warrior
Do lines etch your face
Has your physical form lost its youthful contour?
Do your shoulders stoop from bearing the plow?
Are your hands once soft and full of grace
Now rough and gnarled from scattering seed?

Naomi, Naomi, looking out your window
Has pain aborted and ravished your dream?
In the passage of time has the vision of the Almighty grown dim
Replaced now with the anguish of unfulfilled destiny?

Naomi, Naomi, looking out your window
Has the Almighty abandoned your hope
Forgotten your name and called you bitter?
Has the Almighty snared you to hope again
Only to snatch it from your hands with sinister pleasure?

The enemy would lure you to hold fast to this lie
But your God and King has triumphed
You will see!

Naomi, Naomi, return your gaze to the well worn path
And behold your Ruth overflowing with milk and honey
No apparition stands before you
But the spoken promise of a long ago yearning!

Naomi, Naomi, look out your window
And behold your near kinsman!
The Redeemer and Restorer of all that was lost
Is better to you than seven sons!
He holds your face in His hands and wipes the tears from your eyes
He places His hand in yours and whispers
“Come, my beloved, I make all things new”

“Remember not the former things; neither consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall you not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”
Isaiah 43:18-19
“And Naomi took the child and laid it in her bosom, and became nurse unto it.”
Ruth 4:16


When your foes spit in your eye, My Child
They spit on me also

When all you call so dear forsake you, My Child
All forsook me; My Father turned His back

In your darkest hour when all your strength and hope have been crushed

For I too had my strength poured out like water and I cried out
“Father, forgive them.”
And I Continued

And when you are labeled, put in a box and written off as dead
Continue, My Child!

For they rolled a stone over my body and said, “There! That’s done,
That takes care of Him.
We’ll see what becomes of His kingdom now.”

But I continued…

And on the third day!



For My Sons and Daughters

“For I know the plans I have for you declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to
harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11

Men will attempt to place a hat upon you
Be on guard—it’s not always from Me
The multitudes will proclaim your talents
And others condemn your worth
And though sweet or bitter their words
It is only My truth that will endure

You will look on your own heart
And not see what I see when I look at you
The voices that speak will command your attention
But all will fall short of the mark—the mark of My approval

No box is prepared for you, but a table
No label is fixed on your person, but the name of the Lord your God
No position can define your worth
But the blood that cries, “Righteous son, righteous daughter of the Most High God!”

Always, it is the blood that speaks
No other voice can trump the blood of Christ
Voices will attempt but all voices fail
There is none that can stand when the blood speaks

The blood of Christ has spoken
Its truth for all generations
Irreversible and matchless in its glory
There is only one thing left to do
But believe the blood.

“And blessed are those that believe: for there shall be a performance of those things
which were told them from the Lord”
Luke 1:45.