Not Easy at All

 

 

One of the hardest things to do

Is to challenge your own beliefs.

 

I received the above quote

From an influential elder

That played a pivotal role in my life

As both pastor and teacher.

 

I found the quote to be true

Especially regarding my beliefs,

I am what I grew up on

And my religion is chief.

 

What I was taught

Especially from my youth

Became my photo lens

For determining truth.

 

Being very trusting

Of my pastors and teachers,

To accept without question:

Was a desirable feature.

 

Back then it was declared

To be the written Word,

Thus, to question or disagree

Would have been absurd.

 

So, I drank it all up

And passionately preached it too

Just like I was taught

And probably, so did you.

 

Such that when I was forced

Those beliefs to defend,

I was quick to the draw

And only too eager to offend.

 

 

A dispensationalist to the core

And of the pre-tribulation too:

Nothing was ever allowed

To vanquish those views.

 

Jesus was coming soon

Meant of the imminent kind

And for me that definitely had to be

During my lifetime.

 

From 1948 to the present

Jesus was expected to appear;

Israel becoming a nation

Signaled the end was near.

 

 This is over a generation ago

Yet most still hold to it,

Therein lies the problem

When belief becomes an edict.

 

Traditions are so strong

Re the hold they have on us

That when they are proven wrong

In them we still put our trust.

 

It is critically important

Our beliefs stand upon the Word

And not necessarily

What for ages we have heard.

 

Time does not alter fact

Neither can it change the Word,

God’s Word stands forever

Regardless of what you heard.

 

Challenge your beliefs, I say,

In the light of God’s Holy Writ,

Find out if they are biblically based

Or just an uninformed habit.

 

Much of what we believe

We are afraid to put to the test

For fear that if it be found in error

It would rob us of our zest.

 

I could never face my church

If I find out that I was wrong

So, let me hold on to my beliefs

And continue to appear strong.

 

To challenge my own beliefs

Requires me to be honest

And to accept what the Bible says

In the event they fail the test.

 

It requires me to be loving

In how I share that truth,

Not in a condescending manner

Even when displaying the proof.

 

I must also be faithful

To the clarity of God’s Word

And to present it as it truly is

Even if friends are disturbed.

 

It requires me to be humble;

The Spirit must hold full sway,

It is he that reveals the Holy Word

And tells me what to say.

 

One of the hardest things to do

Is to challenge your own beliefs:

However, when one is able to do just that

It can bring tremendous relief.

 

Stewart Russell © August 29, 2020

 

Poor Porky Pig

  

 

This is the narrative

Of poor Porky Pig

Who lived on a small farm

And danced a jig.

 

Nary a day’s work

Had he ever done

But danced his life away

Just having fun.

 

‘Twas the only animal

That never worked,

Farmer must really like him

Or was a jerk.

 

Fowlie gave eggs

And the cow her milk,

The sheep and goats chimed in

Being of similar ilk.

 

 

But Porky Pig

Just ate and ate and ate

Feeling smug and important

And even great.

 

Porky Pig felt

He was the favourite

And he grunted and danced

Out of habit.

 

But Farmer had a plan

Porky didn’t know

For had Porky been aware

His eating would slow.

 

All animals had work

Porky had none

And in his assured ignorance

He had fun.

 

Destiny slaughter house

One day coming soon,

When Porky Pig will be removed

From his miry lagoon.  

 

Unaware of this

He continues to eat on,

Eating throughout each day

Beginning at dawn.

 

 

“Farmer must like me,”

He thinks to himself,

“Given how he takes great care

Of my portly health.”

 

And who would not?

Dear old Porky Pig

For you are an assured investment

Fattening for the kill.

 

Many a table will benefit

From your demise

And your portly flesh will be

A culinary surprise.

 

Enjoy it while it lasts

And do your portly jig

For farmer is only fattening you,

Fattening for the kill.

 

A word to the wise

If you see what I mean

For there is something from this

You and I can glean.

 

There is many a ruse

Fattening us for the kill

But hopefully we are more wise

Than poor Porky Pig.

 

Stewart Russell © May 7, 2026

 

How Do We Judge?

 

 

How do we judge?

Notice I said we

For I am also including myself

In this company.

 

The company of believers

That is: the born again

That’s been wonderfully saved

In Jesus’ name.

 

Not the world at large

So, don’t be confused,

Thus, bear in mind my gravity;

I don’t mean to amuse.

 

 

Everybody judges:

Both saved and unsaved,

This is naturally human beings

And how we behave.

 

But the born again

Is where my focus is at,

How do we judge, I ask again,

Can you tell me that?

 

Notice I said judge,

You may say assess

But if you make them synonyms

You’ve flunked the test.

 

We do not assess,

We are jury and judge

And when we give our verdict,

We do not budge.

 

 

 

Clearly the above

Does not spell assess

And what is even more, we judge

According to the flesh.

 

How is it possible, you ask,

Being in the Spirit

But the flesh is still very present

And shows up as a habit.

 

Let us be honest

As we are expected to be,

The flesh wars against the Spirit

Whenever we are angry.

 

None of us is perfect

On account of the flesh

And sometimes we fail miserably

When facing a test.

 

Sometimes in a dispute

We tend to take a side,

As in a friend or family member

Whose guilt we try to hide.

 

 

We jump to conclusions

With little evidence

And often the first side we hear

Determines our bent.

 

Prejudging is prevalent,

One look tells me so,

I can see that he is the guilty one,

Just by looking, I know.

 

She would never do that

But he would for sure,

He’s been in the church for years

But wicked to the core.

 

Most of our judging

Is according to the flesh

Thus, I am guilty and so are you

So, it is here I rest.

 

 

Judge not says the Word

And here’s the reason why:

The flesh will often get in the way

And this we can’t deny.

 

Stewart Russell © October 31, 2024

 

Converted

 

 

Confused I was

There was no doubt,

As hard as I tried

I couldn’t figure it out.

 

But I showed a face

Full of confidence,

My life was a sham

In its truest essence.

 

 Confused I was

But only I knew,

Well, except for the Lord

That was true.

 

Convinced I was

When I heard God’s Word

Preached by someone

Who had not heard…

 

 But Spirit led that time

He ministered to me

Whereupon confusion left

And then I could see...

 

My sin, my wrong,

My every fault,

For a moment there

I felt quite distraught.

 

Convicted I was

And full of remorse,

I had been as stubborn

As an own way horse.

 

Then I was overcome

By a Godly sorrow

And on confessing my sin

Repentance followed.

 

 

I asked God to forgive me

For the sin I had done

And opened my heart

 To His precious Son.

 

Now, Converted I am

And that without a doubt,

I am so relieved

I feel I could shout.

 

Controlled I am

By the Holy Spirit

Ever since from Satan

I took my exit.

 

Configured I am

In my mind and my soul,

I am a new creation

Since I’ve been made whole.

 

Contented I am

With Jesus my Saviour.

I give God praise

For His Divine favour.

 

Composed I am

And truly confident in Him

Thank God Almighty

I am delivered from sin!

 

Stewart Russell © February 2020

 

Hold

 

  

Don’t hold a grudge

But hold on to a friend,

It will do you much better

In the end.

 

Don’t hold a grudge

It will do you no good,

Instead, hold on to the Saviour;

You really should.

 

Hold on, my friend

And don’t you let go,

And bear in mind God holds you too;

Let the evidence show.

 

Hold up, think again!

Look before you leap,

If you know you’ll regret speaking

Then do not speak.

 

Hold still a while

And ponder it through

For often what we do in haste

We don’t need to do.

 

Hold that opportunity

And make it count

Towards the several more hurdles

You have to surmount. 

 

Hold another’s hand

And help him along,

Perhaps he will do the same for you

When you’re not strong.

 

Hold on to the stable

The unstable will fail,

Invariably it will disappoint you

In the slightest gale.

 

Hold firmly to Truth

Yes, trust in God’s Word,

A problem shared with Jesus

Is never deferred. 

 

Hold there, my friend,

I have one more verse,

Life is lived from day to day;

It is never rehearsed.

 

 

 

So, hold, I advise,

To God’s unchanging hand,

Remember for your life and mine

His is the best plan.

 

Stewart Russell © November 28, 2025

 

After the Burnout Fireworks

 

 

In almost forty-one years of marriage

I have had lots of time to think,

About the fact that some marriages succeed

And others just go over the brink.

 

Today I came across the following

That suddenly made me alert:

“Love is what is left,” it stated,

After the burnout fireworks”.

 

I was brought to a screeching halt

As I contemplated this love definition

And I was driven to soberly admit

It is a truly realistic realization.

 

At first one perceives of emptiness

That usually follows a long-anticipated event

Into which much planning went

With animated but detail intent.

 

Like for example: a wedding ceremony

And the accompanying reception

Regaling the attributes of the newly-weds

Like a marriage made in heaven.

 

But not long after when reality sets in

And responsibility comes a-knocking

And the fireworks display has all burnt out

Love is that which keeps us a-going.

 

 

After a time of romp and ecstasy,

After the thrill and the enormous height,

Love is what is left, if anything at all,

That will take us through the night.

 

Not the ash after the fireworks display

But the love that defines the two,

The raison d'être, if you see what I mean,

That sees not the me but the you.

 

If fireworks are synonymous with love

Then ash will be the residual end,

But if what remains after the display is love,

Then a lifetime together we’ll spend.

 

Yes, love is what is left

After the burnt-out fireworks

And augers well for the two involved

When life delivers a punch that hurts.

 

Old age and sickness are life realities

And they come if one lives long enough,

They take the fire out of the fireworks

And makes the road ahead quite rough.

 

 

Fireworks a marriage do not sustain

Though many may boast of the same,

But the truth be told, whatever they claim,

Without love their effort will be in vain.

 

Today I came across the following:

I trust that you are still alert,

“Love is what is left

After the burnout fireworks”.

 

Stewart Russell © May 12, 2022

 

I Am Adopted

 

 

You must have heard

Of the orphan boy

Whose classmates oft teased him

And with him toyed.

 

They had their parents

While he had none,

The fact that he’d been adopted

For them was fun.

 

One day he struck back

With a revelation

Finally shredding to little pieces

Their summation.

 

They had parents

To whom they were born

But with no choice in the matter,

No not one.

 

’Twas their only option

You were all they got

But do understand I was chosen

From among a lot.

 

“Yes, I am adopted,”

He had proudly voiced,

But your parents took what they got;

They had no choice.

 

 

 

I too am adopted

But I am not ashamed,

I was adopted into God’s family

And carry His name.

 

Not by biological birth

But He chose me

To be one of His special children

For eternity.

 

Drafted into the family

Some may want to say

But definitely not an afterthought,

No way!

 

Justified and sanctified

And to be glorified

So, please don’t put down adoption

Or despise.

 

 

 

God had a choice

Whereby he adopted me,

Predestinated in Christ Jesus

For His glory.

 

Repeat the last verse

And emphasize the ‘me’,

For if you have been born again

You are God’s eternally.

 

Adopted in His family

Before the world began,

I reiterate, not an after thought

But the original plan.

 

Ephesians 1:5-6

 

Having predestinated us

Unto the adoption of children

By Jesus Christ to himself,

According to the good pleasure

Of his will.

 

To the praise

Of the glory of his grace,

Wherein he hath made us

Accepted in the beloved.

 

Now you should see

What I mean

And why I chose “I Am Adopted”

As my theme.

 

Stewart Russell © December 30, 2025