It Doesn’t Make Sense

 

I have finally awakened

I am no longer asleep,

What I’m about to share

Is pretty, pretty deep.

 

Speaking something into being

Doesn’t make sense

And I offer no apology

If anyone takes offense.

Especially those Christians

Who have fallen for such,

If they have any sense

It really can’t be much.

  

Think of anything you want

And speak it into being,

You would wait till forever

And that thing you won’t be seeing.

 

 

 

It doesn’t have to be big

Focus on something small,

It doesn’t matter the size

You can’t get it done at all.

 

I have actually tried it

And you can try it too,

Concentrate with all your might

And you’ll agree to my view.

 

God created the world:

What absolute nonsense!

And any who say they believe it

Are in a state of pretense.

 

Once I actually believed it

But that was a colossal struggle,

Finally I came to realize

That did not solve my puzzle.

 

 

The world always was

It simply had no beginning

And once there is procreation

It will never have an ending.

 

You would also prove this

If you try my experiment,

You’d discover what I discovered

And we’ll have a similar bent.

 

The world for me is God

And it will always be,

Get rid of the old wives fables

And open your eyes and see.

 

Evolution doesn’t make sense

But neither does creation,

I believe in an eternal world

That is my summation.

 

 

The truth is I am sleeping

And I am talking in my sleep,

Don’t believe me for a moment

My sleep must be very deep.

 

What a horrible nightmare!

What deplorable foolishness!

How miserable we all would be

If we all believed in this mess!

 

God’s Word sets the record straight

In the beginning God;

It was He that created everything

Spread that news abroad.

 

It is God that always was

God is the great I AM,

The evidence of being awake

Is when we’re walking in His plan.

 

So strike verses one to twelve

That’s the heart of the fool,

Hold fast to all of the rest

And enroll in God’s Bible school.

 

There you will learn the truth

Of all that concerns you

And after the first basic lessons

You’ll begin to see God too.

 

Stewart Russell © October 2018

 

Does Anyone Know?

 

 

Does anyone know

The question I am going to ask?

Should I allow you to guess,

That would be quite a task.

 

Chances are too

Somebody would guess right

But chances are too

By then it could be night.

 

There’s a question on my mind

It’s probably on yours too,

Pertaining to it

I’ve heard a lot of views.

 

It is rather amazing

The time we spend

In futile attempts

Our positions to defend.

 

And at the end of the day

We remain unconvinced

Simply because

That was our view ever since.

 

 

But back to the question,

Does anyone know?

I guess nobody does

For the Bible tells me so.

 

Therein lies the clue

To the question on my mind,

The question about which

So many people opine.

 

The opinions vary

As to the time and the place

And events are occurring

At a rapid pace.

 

Events have always happened

Of one kind or another

But some argue this rate

Causes more than a bother.

 

 

Each and every day

And almost everywhere

People’s hearts are troubled

Even to the point of fear.

 

Earthquakes and flooding

Plague many a land

And with all our resources

We still can’t understand.

 

The mysterious phenomena

That boggle the mind,

No wonder some say

We’re running out of time.

 

So I really must ask,

“When will he come?”

Jesus I mean

To set up his kingdom.

 

The fact is, no one knows

Just when he will come

Even though it could be

Before the setting of the sun.

 

When will he come?

That’s the question for me

But more importantly

 If he does, am I ready?

 

That question I suggest

Should be on every mind,

Not just when he’ll come

But will I be left behind?

 

 

Ask this moment now

Like I am doing as well,

“Am I prepared for heaven

Or on my way to hell?”

 

Are my sins forgiven?

Am I washed in his blood?

Have I trusted in him

To make me whole and good?

 

For there’s no merit in us

That can stir God’s heart,

It’s only what Jesus has done

That provides us the start.

 

Why not open up to him?

Let him come into your heart

And should he come this minute

With him you would depart.

 

Stewart Russell © January 2018

 

Just My Feeling

 

 

 I have this feeling

That Jesus will come in the day,

He’ll come when none expects

That’s what the Bible says.

 

In the day people are working

Nothing so is in their head

While at night they are reflecting

As they lie upon their bed.

 

Most would probably think

Jesus will come in the night

So they would be expecting then

To see that glorious sight.

 

Like a thief the Bible says

And thieves prefer the night

But Jesus is not a thief

Jesus is the light.

 

The thief needs the darkness

So he wouldn’t be seen,

No such case with Jesus

We will know it’s not a dream.

 

For while we sleep at night

In the day we’re mostly awake,

I feel it will be day

When he comes his bride to take.

 

Of course this is my feeling

And it doesn’t have to be so,

It could be day or night

When that eastern light shows.

 

Or it could be in the west

The second time around,

Unlike in that first advent

When the natal star shone down.

 

Day or night it will not matter

To the church his glorious bride,

If you have not been born again

It’s time that you decide.

 

If it’s day it will be night

For them that are not saved

But for the righteous ones in Christ

If it’s night it’ll be a glorious day.

 

For the light on that night

Will be brighter than the day

At the return of him

That is the light and the way

 

So it is just my feeling

That Jesus will come in the day

But it will be night for all those

That didn’t come in by the way.

 

Stewart Russell (c) September 2018

 

The Cellphone Camera

 

 

Something about a camera

That I appreciate:

It captures where you point it

It does not differentiate.

 

Quite obedient I suppose

It gets the job done,

It doesn’t shirk responsibility

And can provide much fun.

 

It has come a long way

From many years ago

But even though primitive

It created quite a show.

 

Quite a lot was left

To the photographer then,

He was the master

Behind the camera lens.

 

 

Today it is so different

Even in the simplest cellphone

And everyone’s a photographer

Once one they own.

 

From stills to videos

Any story they can create,

And that is the chief reason

Why the camera I appreciate.

 

Now given the Internet

These stories can go viral,

In a flash they can be communicated

To a world of people.

 

We should understand therefore

That such technology

Should be handled with care

And much responsibility.

 

 

What an amazing device

A cellphone camera can be!

But in the hands of the lawless

It can cause much misery.

 

It can capture a moment

And later create a panic

When that private behaviour

Is revealed to the public.

 

On these such occasions

The victims are not aware

That their actions are being captured

So they do not fear.

 

But later when they realized

Their secret is exposed

They wish to bury themselves

And pull in the mould.

 

Such cases could range from

From the vile to the criminal,

From a break-and-entering act

To the morally reprehensible.

 

 

Such are the possibilities

Given this modern day facility:

The cellphone camera I mean

With its enormous capabilities.

 

It truly narrows the gap

Between the novice and expert,

It can bring joy to the public

Or it can cause much hurt.

 

This is simply because

Despite its technological pitch

It does not come with

An automatic censoring switch.

 

Something about the camera

That I would like to see change:

A technological advancement

To limit the morally deranged.

 

Such would auger well

To promote its positive use

And stamp out the undesirable

With its flagrant abuse.

 

Stewart Russell © June 2018

 

Who Are These?

  

 

Grab a hold of this

And give it some thought

And at some point, I guarantee you

You will see the soul Jesus bought.

 

That was me, that was you

If to Jesus you have come,

With your sins forgiven

You are a child of his kingdom.

 

Oh, these are they whose robes are white

Washed in the blood of the Lamb,

These are they that have come to the Light

Washed in the blood of the Lamb.

 

I find this intriguing

That through the Saviour’s bleeding

My robe is washed white

By my simple believing.

 

My dark and sinful soul

After a washing in Jesus’ blood

Comes out of that wash white-

None but Jesus could.

 

 

It’s not an optical delusion

It’s not a magic trick,

It is the miraculous work of Jesus

When in his blood we dip.

 

His life saving blood

Spilt on Calvary’s cross,

Hence that innumerable multitude

That was once lost.

 

I am in that number

And I trust so are you,

My robe has been made white

I am in that crew.

 

It started with the Jews

Twelve thousand from each tribe

And thereafter, since Pentecost,

Both Jew and Gentile have arrived.

 

John had a glimpsed of the future

Of his time and ours

And in that panoramic view

Jesus displayed his power.

 

His power to save

Peoples of all kinds,

Not only in the apostle’s time

But in yours and mine.

 

And as long as time shall last

However long that may be,

Whether we go or Christ comes

Some day we will see...

 

An innumerable number

That no man could name,

When Jesus comes again

Over all he will reign.

 

Stewart Russell © October 3, 2020

 

Get Over It

 

 

Some words come easy

To people only looking in,

“Come on, just move on,” they say,

Sometimes with a grin.

 

Or, “Time to forget it, now,

It cannot be undone,”

Or, “You will have to live with it

For some time to come.”

 

When we don’t feel the pinch

Our words are flowery and tart

And we wonder why some behave

As though it is so dark.

 

“So, you had a divorce,

So, what?  Life must go on,

And the sooner the better for you,

So be forewarned!”

 

“You have lost a leg,

Think of the man without any,

He would settle for your one leg

Instead of all his money.”

 

He who feels it knows

It is more than just here-say,

And like the three that visited Job,

Being judges was their way.

They judged the situation

So that Job had to be wrong,

And given their lack of information

They proved wrong and strong.

 

“Get over it, man!”

And this comes as a rebuke,

It’s like, “Are you prepared to brood

And just wallow in your puke?”

 

“Who else did you invite

To your pity party besides me?

I really don’t have time for this,

And I hope you can see.”

 

“Get over it, man,”

From those that say they care,

“Just one tiny, little knockdown

And life becomes your fear!”

 

But it is all right, you know,

When the shoe is on another’s foot

And your shoe is fitting snugly

Bringing you lots of luck.

It is then easy to say,

“Get over it,” and “Move on,”

Until you experience your nightmare

And into similar you are drawn.

 

Then you will understand

What it really and truly means

To go through extreme hardship

And hope it was a dream.

 

 

 

Healing takes time:

Different lengths for different folk

And we shouldn’t treat another’s experience

As though it were a joke.

 

A pity party is not the answer

And neither a matter-of- fact retort

But share a life experience where possible

And in all circumstances exhort.

 

In brotherly love, the Bible says,

And not in a condescending way

Bearing in mind, my Christian friend,

Ours could be the next day.

 

Stewart Russell © March 1, 2023

 

Living on Borrowed Time

 

 

What does this mean?

I mean the stated theme,

Well let’s go there

And see what we can glean.

 

Living on borrowed time

Means you should be dead

But for some unknown reason

You are still living instead.

 

You have led a charmed life

Tempting death at every turn,

There have been near misses

With living rights earned.

 

It is called cheating death

In a moment of time freeze

When the grim reaper lurks

And his quest is a tease.

Some have all the aliments

Found in any medical book

Yet they still continue to exist

No matter how they look.

 

His life is hanging by a string

Or he is at death’s door

Are two more terminologies

We have heard before.

 

Living on borrowed time

That’s our subject today!

And it appears that over some

Death holds no sway.

 

A race car smash-up!

Driver walks away unscathed;

It’s not the first time either:

Once more death he evades.

 

Death on a proverbial leash

Like the ferocious bull hound,

Thus far and no further

No matter how he bounds.

 

Not all are this fortunate,

Some so easily capitulate

Making it all the more puzzling

How others escape.

 

 

It is like time is allotted

Not to individuals but a group

And the time not used by one

Another can recruit.

 

Hence, this borrowed time

That another is living out

Had belonged to someone else

No longer around and about.

 

One can’t die before his time

But is this really true?

If you hold to the preceding verse

This cannot be your view.

 

Then again, the time one gets

May be time prior granted,

Hence the borrowed time position

Would have to be recanted.

 

Thus, living on borrowed time

Goes through the door

And the time that you live

Is what you were granted before.

 

What is premature death?

Tell me, and how can we judge?

When your number is called

From that you cannot budge.

 

 

There is no borrowed time:

Neither shortened nor extended

And whenever life’s clock stops

That person’s time has ended.

 

Living on borrowed time?

No such thing I perceive

But make the most of my allotted time

Is the admonition I receive.

 

Stewart Russell © May 18, 2021