Wednesday, June 21, 2017

The I of the Storm

A portent blows across the sky
The brewing tempest nears, says I.
But if You seek to spoil the proud,
The drunkards and the disavowed,
On this house too the waves must heave
Because my kin I will not leave
To languish by the whirlwind's curse,
And sleep alone within the hearse.

A promise sought, a promise giv'n
To those who air their cries to heav'n,
But in the verses soon restored
There lies a promise e'er ignored:
"The shifting sand on which they stood
Shall work together for their good,
And for my glory, for my name.
They patiently have borne the shame.

"I have recorded and decreed:
My friends who suffer shall succeed!"
So come what blusters from the East
My Master's mercy has not ceased!
With them I stand, with them I fall
Forever to my Lord I call:
"I wield the cov'nant shown to me!
Release my fathers! Set them free!"








Monday, June 5, 2017

The Work of the Father

What If the 'Last Dream' Said This?

I was back in Kirtland, Ohio, and thought I would take a walk out by myself, and view my old farm, which I found grown up with weeds and brambles, and altogether bearing evidence of neglect and want of culture. I went into the barn, which I found without floor or doors, with the weather-boarding off, and was altogether in keeping with the farm.

While I viewed the desolation around me, and was contemplating how it might be recovered from the curse upon it, there came rushing into the barn a company of furious men, who commenced to pick a quarrel with me. The leader of the party ordered me to leave the barn and farm, stating it was none of mine, and that I must give up all hope of ever possessing it.

I apologized for trespassing and said that I was just reminiscing the days I was blessed to spend time in this place, and how lucky they were to hold the historic estate. I asked them what they thought of the farm now. They were rather taken aback at my cordial demeanor and their response was still heated, but by and by they confessed that it had gone into great disrepair. I then told them that if they would forgive me for stepping on their property, I would be pleased to take up a shovel and rake and help them restore the old homestead.

Reluctantly, they agreed, and we commenced to digging up the noxious plants which infested the meadow. As I was skinning new lumber to apply to the sorry exterior, a rabble rushed in and nearly filled the barn, drew out their knives, and began to quarrel among the other laborers for the premises. Before it could come to blows, however, I spoke aloud so all parties could hear me, then reminded them of the work we had undertaken to recondition the beautiful, albeit decayed site, and that in the end it would be of great benefit to the community, no matter who owned it.

The altercation slowly became less intense, and at length all members confessed that they, too wanted to see the farm restored back to its full glory, and while there were small arguments about how that should be accomplished, when we set our differences aside, the work was completed in short order.

By the time we finished our endeavor, the fields were lush with grain, the trees were again bearing sweet fruit and all participants had forgotten about who was the proper owner of the farm. For there was abundance overflowing the storehouses and plenty for all who were in need, and then much more besides.

In the end, we all became great comrades in labor, our brotherly love waxing strong. While we feasted upon the bounty, the dream or vision ended.