The Burning Bush
(A Poem based on Ex.3:1-6)
I looked into the flames and I asked "Who are you?"|
And I cried out "Who is going to save me?"
And I wept "Who is going to conquer
My slavery to sin and darkness?"
And I said "Who is faithful
Even though I fail?"
And then I asked "Who is the father of mercy
Who sends his son to die
That I might live?"
And…The Bush Did Not Burn
And…I Did Not Die!
by W. H. Smaw
The Red Sea Of Today
(A Poem based on Ex. 14:15)
I arrived one day at my own private Red Sea a storm raged. Behind me the Pharaoh’s army marched ever forward to crush Me, for this was how I viewed the sins of my life.|
Helplessly I looked forward and back and saw only death. Surely one with an entire army of sins behind him could not Hope for forgiveness.
I reached that conclusion of course with the mind of a man. I Especially measured my own unforgiving nature and recalled That all those who had wronged me had seen only my wrath.
Certainly God has my own nature for revenge, surely he Planned my death to repay my wrong doing. I refer here to Death as the death of my pride, my ego. The kind of death That requires forgiving even those who persecute you.
No way out I cried. Drown in self-pity or turn and lash out Alone at this highly trained army who knows my every Thought and desire and uses this knowledge to cut me off at Every turn and to shout out at me: "God does not love you!"
Suddenly forces beyond my poor man’s mind began to move. A Moses like figure came and stood at my side. Was this only In my heart?
"God forgive you your shrinking faith. Who are You to judge the mind of God? Of all your trail of evil across the desert of your life, of all your sins and shortcomings only one cannot be forgiven. Make no mistake, if you deny God, deny his total forgiving then die and be lost."
I am sure I will come to the Red Sea again and again in my weakness but for now, I stand on the opposite shore with dry Feet, dry clothes, and a bright path ahead of me.
My enemies have been swept aside. New enemies await me always but for all the many Red Seas in the life of a man and for the Fathers love when we come to these shores of despair
by W. H. Smaw
© Copyright 2003 by W. H. Smaw
from the book: Flowing From My Pen