No Lot o’ Long Talk

 

“Did God really say?”

What an introduction!

And with that, Eve’s brain-gears

Spun into action

God had spoken clearly

Eve had clearly understood

But that wily serpent, the devil,

Got under Eve’s hood.

“Did God really say that?

I wonder why would He,

Considering the fact

That it is He who made the tree?

“Why would He, pray tell me,

In this beautiful garden put a tree

And then instruct you and Adam

To see and don’t see?

It doesn’t make sense to me

And it doesn’t sound like God,

Unless of course...”

More doubt injected the fraud.

“Unless of course... of course

He wants to toy with you.

Why else would he tell you, don’t

And then put the tree in plain view?

I will tell you something

It will do you well to believe.

God is hiding something from you

That He has and you don’t, Eve.

God knows if you eat of that tree

You will become like God.”

You see, Satan had tried it and failed

But after all he is the Fraud.

If only Eve had known

What Satan knew,

She would have obeyed God

But she hadn’t a clue.

Why didn’t God warned her

About this subtle creature?

Surely it would have helped

If she had seen the whole picture.

But God held back information

That was important to Eve

And the devil capitalized on it

And Eve was deceived.

So, the devil outsmarted God

To the detriment of Eve

And then God punished Eve

After she was deceived.

So God must take the blame

For Eve’s mistake

Even though the news Satan brought

Was the kind they call fake.

We made the same blunder

Maybe even today,

God gave us an instruction

And we disobeyed.

Next we blamed God

For the trouble that came

And accused the Holy Spirit

For not playing our game.

Eve was given a clear directive

She should have obeyed

But like us, she spent time with Satan

Day after day.

Which brings me to the point

That I really want to make,

That we throw words at God

But the devil we won’t forsake.

Our conversations with the devil

Originate in our heart

And while we give God lip honor

We never bid Satan depart.

  

The heart is the principal thing

When we talk to God

But more often than not,

That’s how we engage the Fraud.

Eve spent too much time

Talking to him

And with that came

The all embracing sin.

It is not for us to understand why

When God gives a directive

 But obey it to the letter

And let it be instructive.

Satan does what he has to do

Because he has limited time,

And he is not as smart as you think

For his tricks are one of a kind.

It’s the same old trick he put to Eve

It’s getting us to doubt

But we need to put him in his place

By simply saying, “Get out!”

Get out of my conversations!

Get out of my life!

Get of my home

And away with your strife!

Get out of our schools

And out of our churches too!

Jesus is our Saviour

And there’s nothing you can do.

 No lot o’ long talk

Neither from the lips nor the heart,

And when you get tired saying, “Get out!”

Just simply say, “Depart!”

Stewart Russell © October 2019

Our Crime Scene

Scaling new heights

Or plunging deeper depths,

The crime level in Barbados

Makes one upset.

Whether tourist or local

It really doesn’t matter

Gun crime in Barbados

Is a colossal bother.

Eight murders committed

And it is still January:

Four men and four women

This is cause for worry.

Quite a lot of recommendations

But no remedy in sight,

The frequent hail of bullets

Puts several to flight.

The gun has accounted

For five of the dead,

Sorry, not really the gun

It’s the trigger-happy instead.

The gun is now the way

To quickly settle a conflict

Hence, no longer the long talk,

That doesn’t quite fit.

It is apparent to me

Money and drugs are involved

So for a deal gone wrong

The gun is the resolve.

An adjustment in the duties

Of two Cabinet Ministers

Was the most recent attempt

To deal with the monsters.

It is the tip of the iceberg

If I may coin that phrase

And when I read the court pages

I am particularly dazed.

It is mostly the small man

Or those at the bottom end

But the ones truly responsible

Cannot be found my friend.

The guns are coming in,

They are not made in this place

But the importers are operating

Such that there is no trace.

Let me explain a little

By what I mean by trace:

Turning a blind eye

Is as effective as turning one’s face.

You cannot tell me

How well I can or cannot see

Especially if cowered by a threat

Or offered some money.

Drugs, guns and money

Are like three peas in a pod

And in our beloved Barbados

They provide many a job.

Filthy lucre some will say

But it is income nevertheless,

Big bucks and quick bucks

With such many are impressed.

When I started this poem

It was murder number eight,

I left for a bit and before I returned

Number nine was on the plate.

Some days have been allotted

To have an emphasis on prayer

Commencing on February the first

And to continue for three days.

These murders are so senseless

To all that can think

As the lawless and thoughtless

Bring our country to the brink.

As a country we have strayed

From the rudiments of God

And we are paying with our life

Having connived with the Fraud.

Prayer might help

It might very well do

But we need to get back to God,

That is my view; is it yours too?

Stewart Russell © January 2019

Graham Vaughn

You occupy our thoughts

Hours on end

Yes our prayers and best wishes

Go up for you my friend

Even as we take this moment

On your challenge to reflect

We do so with great hope

And all negativity reject

For God is in control

He always does what is best

And oft unknowing to us

He exceeds our requests

Life is lived forward

With no chance to reverse

There are no dry runs

No opportunities to rehearse

But we have this assurance

From the One that knows

That He is with us

In all of life’s ebb and flow

In the twinkling of an eye

Something unplanned did happen

And before you knew it

Your very life was threatened

But in all of your trial

God is evident

And He will work out His purpose

Whatever the devil’s intent

So many lives are touched

And I have no doubt for God

The name of Jesus is raised up

Another loss for the Fraud

For even in your discomfort

The testimony we heard

Spoke of God’s goodness

And the need to trust His Word

  

 

Your voice is temporarily missed

From off the air

But we know for sure

You are in our Father’s care

We love you Graham Vaughn

Hurry up and get well

We know you love to talk

And there is much you can tell

Our prayers are with you

And with your family too

We all love you Graham Vaughn

We really do.

Stewart Russell © July 2018

Spare a Thought

I watched him steadily

Yet I was out of his view

I could see him but he saw me not

Perhaps he would do otherwise if he knew

I was watching curiously

To see what he would do next

As the people passed him by

 You could see they were vex

He approached everyone

I could not hear him speak

But from their reaction

He was forced to retreat

He appeared to be begging

I guess for something to eat

But nobody trusted him

Not even the slightest treat

Progressively I grew sad

At what I was seeing

As it dawned the more on me

That he was a human being

Just like you and I are

And all of these passers-by

Yes, he was a human being

Just like and I

There go you and I

But for the grace of God

This youth was in the clutches

Of the despicable fraud

Yes I refer to the devil

Lucifer, a.k.a. Satan

The one who was out to destroy

From the time the world began

Here was this youth

Entirely bamboozled by him

And so very unaware

That his problem was really sin

I watched yet another passer-by

As he deftly sidestepped

As though he was accustomed

And thus adequately prepped

Everyone refused him

But not once did he stop

He was more than determined

As from one to another he hopped

O yes he was limping

But this was no deterrent

The fact that he used it cleverly

To me was quite apparent

This was not the first time

I had actually sat and observed

For I had daily reason

To be right here on this curb

Actually I was there to watch

People and their behavior

And to come up with a strategy

To tell them about the Saviour

But they were so terribly busy

I wondered if I could achieve

Just a little bit of their attention

To show them how to believe

And while there observing

My eyes were glued to this youngster

Who in every respect

These passers-by treated as a monster

There-in lies the peril

That confronts our very society

Like that youth many are lost

And to be lost for eternity

Like him the Saviour pleads

For us to come to know him

But like these many passers-by

We make light of our awful sin

Like that beggarly youth

We are despicable and in need

But unaware of the Saviour’s love

Who cares about us indeed

Here was this youthful beggar

With matted hair and unkempt

Maybe asking for a little money

To buy the drugs on which he was bent

But more importantly

It then occurred to me

That here was a damned soul

For whom Christ went to Calvary

It was for the unwell he died

Yes the wretched and the sick

The drug addict and the murderer

The con man that is so slick

These are not the only ones

Commuting on their way to hell

But also some who go to church

Every time they hear a church bell

Sitting in the church pew

Feeling all smug and warm

Just like them we mentioned earlier

They too should be warned

That the bottom line really is

The Saviour’s blood applied

For without it there is no salvation

However hard they have tried

Acknowledging our sin is the start

And repenting of the same

Asking God’s pardon for our wrong

And believing in Jesus’ name

Thanking God for such salvation

And stepping out in righteousness

Eyes ever set on the eternal prize

And bearing fruit unto godliness

No difference between the tramp and me

If neither God’s salvation knows

Having not the seal of God

On the way to hell each goes

Stewart Russell © October 2017