Origin of the Races

Have you ever searched the Bible?

Did you find the origin of your race?

There is no such thing amongst its pages

Of race there is not a single trace.

Race is an evolutionary concept

Used by Darwin, Huxley and Haeckel,

These nineteenth century Evolutionistic ideas

Since then have misled many people.

In the Bible you’d not find the word

Not alluding to people or the concept,

This divisive, separatist ideology

Should be treated as a total reject.

There is no white race or black race,

From where did this fallacy come?

Thank God there are no racial divisions

In His everlasting kingdom.

I point you to Genesis 10 and verse 32

Note the families of the sons of Noah

“And by these were the nations divided”,

Read it for yourself; the Bible says it’s so.

The worldwide division was at Babel,

Find it in Genesis eleven from verse nine,

This was the scattering of all peoples

Not races as Darwin and company opined.

They were scattered according to families

Every one dispersed after his tongue,

Out of this the formation of nations,

This ideology called race is wrong.

In Genesis chapter ten there you find a list

That shows that Darwin was not right,

And this has been totally supported

By the great archaeologist, William F Albright.

From his detailed and in depth research

He found this list “astonishingly accurate”,

For him the Bible was the correct explanation

And with this too I can relate.

Now hear the conclusion of this matter

Back to Adam and Eve you will trace,

That there are not many races but one;

That one we know is the human race.

God created us all in his image

Adam and Eve were told to multiply,

We all are the children of one father

And with this ideology I comply.


 

It does not matter where the location,

It is of no essence the skin colour,

What matters is that we are one family

Brothers and sisters one of another.

God made the world and all therein

And has made of all nations of one blood,

So that when our fore parents were created

God described His creation as very good.

Time to abolish this schism about races,

Time to eradicate its root and all its traces,

Time to denounce this evil that defaces

God’s creation and appreciate their graces.

Stewart Russell © 2015

Be at Home this Christmas

Permit me a little intrusion

Upon your Christmas plan

Just to reminisce a little bit

About God and sinful man.

The Christmas you celebrate

Cost God an enormous price,

His Son Jesus was the cost

For us he was sacrificed.

When our fore parents fell

Back there in ancient Eden

There was no hope for man

Except God’s promised Son.

The serpent bruised his heel

But he would crush his head,

His display at Mount Calvary

Would raise us from the dead.

In that our Saviour died once

Every soul can be made alive,

In him we have abundant life

Now we can more than survive.

 

God intervened in our mess

Through Jesus Christ his Son,

Now He is asking for a place

As we plan our Christmas fun.

Without Bethlehem’s manger

For Jesus’ cradle in that stall,

There would have been no hope

Since our parents took that fall.

From the onset in Eden’s Garden

Man had taken a selfish turn

Goaded on by Satan’s prodding

He the knowledge of evil learned.

Like God the first man aspired

With Satan he had conspired

To satisfy his selfish desire

The result was absolutely dire.

This Christmas will find some

Still Floundering in dire straits

Still taking that selfish turn

When given an opportune date.

If you are one such person

I beg you spare a thought for Christ,

Beyond your selfish celebration

Consider his selfless sacrifice.

Remember that first Christmas

Was the first of all that followed,

Now that God has offered you a way

No longer in sin should you wallow.

Thank you for the time given,

I am glad you took time to read,

Now it’s time for the next step

Follow through as the Spirit leads.

The tree, the tinsel and the lights

Are minor in this whole scheme,

The major part of Christmas

Really is about the redeemed.

   

 

For there is no true Christmas

Outside of this so-called intrusion,

If the trappings fill your Christmas

Then it’s a mass of confusion.

So let me beg again in earnest

As you plan your Christmas treat,

Invite Jesus into your Christmas

And penitently bow at his feet.

It will be the best Christmas gift,

Invite him into your heart and soul

And you’ll be home for Christmas

Present in the Shepherd’s foal.

Stewart Russell© 2015

The Christmas Craze

 

Another year has virtually gone

We’re moving towards another Christmas morn,

Life is hard and things are brown

Still Christmas money spending around.

The merchants declaring bumper sales

People buying wholesale and retail,

Hire purchased items with money burned

This coming January will be returned.

People all through town, some in a daze

Yet another sign of the Christmas craze,

Hectic already in this first phase

Just like last phase with no time to laze.

Where is the money coming from?

Why can’t I get any?  I must be dumb!

Struggling to meet my monthly bill:

Of bills up to my neck, I’ve had my fill.

Furniture from last year put outside

Must keep up with the Joneses or woe betide,

New furniture suite for the living room

Hoping the flat screen TV get there soon.

First week in December all this going on

Just back in October the money all gone,

First week in December money just appeared

And now they are spending without a care.

No intention to use last year’s lights

Finding the blown bulb is like a real fight,

One particular year it took a day and a night,

Buying new strings instead just seems right.

No end of shoes bought from before

But just for Christmas a couple pairs more,

More than six suits hanging in the closet

But wondering why the new one isn’t finished yet.

He was given the cloth way back in June

But the tailor had said that was much too soon,

Now the first week in December almost complete

Maybe he’s planning to finish it Christmas week.

  

O how I wish I could make my own clothes

Rather than depend on professionals that sew,

I really wish I were a do-it-myself -handy man

Then nobody could disrupt my Christmas plan.

I marvel at all these people though

That have important people that they know

For I am convinced that it must be so

Since at Christmas nothing stops their show.

Things here brown and life real hard

Yet freshly painted houses and spruced up yards,

Everybody trying to outdo the next person

And the children also having loads of fun

Yes, the children get in on the action too

They are part of the craze with little things to do

Like “You and your friends better stay outside,

Mess up this house and I’ll tar your hide!”

Here’s a conversation overheard in October

These neighbours in the district having a look-over

“To tell the truth,” one openly exclaimed

“I don’t have the money to paint my house again.”

“You are so right.  I too have that problem.

Looks like I will have to start my own collection.

If I am to get enough to freshen up my home

I’d better leave you all and get on my phone.”

“I always wondered how you get it done

Especially knowing that you complain so often.

Neighbours, we now know that she is a trickster

This time around we know just how to fix her.”

On the road too you had better watch out

For pedestrians jaywalking as they move about,

And motorists driving like they own the road

Just like the ZR van drivers looking for a load.

A few Christmas seasons in the past

The shoppers and buyers waited until the very last

But this year already the merchants singing a tune,

The sales hike caption in the news suggests a boom.

A caution though, as I think this through

With this spending spree what will the Government do?

They too looking for money from any avenue

There’s the likelihood of more taxes for me and you.

Are Credit Unions providing these funds?

Are overseas relatives sending more healthy sums?

Where is the money really coming from?

And why up to now I’m still getting none?

Maybe it’s because I don’t get caught up in the craze

Be it first, second or even third phase,

Since I became a pensioner I haven’t had a raise

And like the sheep, the little I get on that I graze.

So for me a little to eat and a little to drink,

Lots of time during the rush to sit and think

And wonder how without jobs and without work

People still spend at Christmas like they hit pay dirt.

I wouldn’t lie though, for I must be honest,

Of all of the festive seasons Christmas is the best,

It is truly my favourite time of the year

And I do believe every man should have his share.

So the move is on and people are in a hurry,

In the streets and stores there’s a rush and a scurry,

This Christmas craze is far too much for me

But it helps to make Christmas the best festivity.

I pray as you rush to and fro this Christmas season,

You would come face to face with the Father’s reason

For sending His Son that very first Christmas day

And that you would invite Jesus into your heart to stay.

Stewart Russell © 2015

A Christmas Summary

For some Christmas is a bottle

A simple bottle of rum,

As soon as that bottle is empty

Christmas for them is done.

For some Christmas is a rush

A rush to get things done,

A host of things to accomplish

Before Christmas day is come.

For some Christmas is a rest

A rest from their busy ways,

A chance to relax and reflect

During the Christmas holidays. 

  

Then Christmas is new things

For some it is simply that,

They change whatever they can

Then sit back and relax.

For some it is getting together

With friends and family,

Eats, drinks and fun galore

Highlight their festivity.

For children it’s an opportunity

To frolic and to play,

To enjoy their presents and toys

And eat lots on Christmas day.

The outfit for some is primary

Bedecked in the latest fashion,

At church and Queen’s Park

They parade with passion.

The house is a point of interest

Especially for the female,

She runs herself ragged

Trying to catch another sale.

For some Christmas is the lights

On buildings and Christmas trees,

The beauty that's displayed 

Is pleasing to all of these.

The doctors cash in too

But theirs mostly come after

Christmas eating and drinking,

More patients is doctor’s laughter

Merchants too have their share

You don’t have to guess,

The more money leaves our pockets

The more they are impressed.

Christmas for the vagrant

Finds him on his street

And the spirit of Christmas goodwill

Supplies him with lots to eat.

Undertakers, I’m not too sure

How they fit into the mix,

Christmas for them could be

Those patients the doctors didn’t fix.

Christmas for some is that chance

To do what’s otherwise a chore,

It is one of the few times

That they “darken a church door”.

Christmas is that special time

The needy anticipate each year

As organisations reach out to them

With loads of Christmas cheer.

Christmas for the butcher

Could be the death of many pigs

As he supplies the ham and pork

For the various Christmas gigs.

Christmas for a church pastor

Could be a church that’s full,

Compliments of Christmas programmes

Attracting many people.

For some it’s really a bother

Their religion can’t accommodate,

Wedding anniversaries they keep up

But Jesus’ birth they won’t celebrate.

But still there are others

Who’ve experienced the “new birth”,

Christmas reminds of the time

That Jesus came to this earth

The trappings of the season

Still matter to many of these

But above and beyond these frills

Is the acceptance of the “Prince of Peace”.

Stewart Russell © 2015

Trust the Key to Prevailing Prayer

Trust is the key to prevailing prayer,

Trust and never doubt whether we’re far or near,

Eyes on the Saviour our Shepherd so dear

Trust is the key to prevailing prayer.

Look to Jesus our advocate and friend,

Trust Him who knows the beginning from the end.

The Author and Finisher of our faith trust Him!

He is more than any fancy, imagination or whim.

It's not in the length of the prayer or in our own might,

It's not the prayer warrior in whom we should delight.

It's not in our enthusiasm or adrenaline rush,

It's our childlike faith in Christ and Him we must trust.

Yes trust is the key to prayer that brings the victory,

Trusting in the triune God in faith and humility.

Trust Him in the night time, trust Him through the day,

Trust Him especially when we cannot see the way.

It is not the prayer vigil though a hundred strong,

It’s not the holding of hands or the noisy throng,

It’s not in the rhetoric and the vaunted speech,

But in trusting Him whose hand is ever within reach.

It’s a fact that trust is the key to prevailing prayer,

Trust and don’t doubt whether it’s dark or fair.

Looking to him who is our strength and our source

Never relinquishing however hard the devil may force.

  

The night may be long and the day far spent

But we can trust in the Lord and never relent.

He knows what we need before we say a word

And long before we call he has already heard.

Trust is the key, not the pastor or they that intercede,

None of them through much prayer can meet our need.

For God’s will must be done if Him we will please

And nothing short of trust could ever Him appease.

Prayer without trust is like a boat without an oar,

For without its wings tell me how can an eagle soar?

God responds to childlike trust when on Him we call,

Trust is that ingredient in prayer that will help us all.

Trust added to prayer is like the signature on an account,

Without it prayer is just words no matter the amount.

Hope I have made my point whatever the fret or care

Trust is always the key to prevailing prayer.

Stewart Russell © 2012

A Wreck on Life’s Highway

I was motoring down life’s highway

At quite a crazy clip

Negotiating some difficult turns

Not even caring about a slip.

Oh, I was a fantastic driver

With quite a bit of skill

And knowing just how great I was

There was no chance of a spill.

In my early years there was challenge

With quite a few in the home,

So many mouths to feed

No television, no piped water or phone.

At primary school I was avoided

As though I were the plague,

At secondary school I buckled down

And those memories became somewhat vague.

I did really well at school

Though I never came first in tests,

But whenever the scores came back

I was always among the best.

University was not as easy

But I adjusted to the task

And when I graduated,

My achievements were all first class.

On leaving school I landed a job

That paid a good salary,

That was the beginning of the trend

That changed my reality.

I really began to enjoy life

And motored towards my dream,

I left that initial poverty

Way back in my slipstream.

Out of the turns and into the straights

I motored on with ease

Steadily increasing my speed

Enjoying the rush of the breeze.


  

The rough time I had growing up

Was a far and distant memory,

The thrill I now enjoyed

Was a thing of rarest beauty.

My family I had left behind,

So were the church and Sunday school,

That kind of controlled life

Was for the poor and wretched fool.

I was fast into my groove,

This was what I had dreamed about,

Dollars flittering through my hand

And carrying a lot of clout.

Then I was really somebody,

I was held in great respect,

I was well to do and held my own,

My past was my only regret.

In the circle where I moved

Were the persons that were rich,

They were born into wealth galore

And never fell into the ditch.

They often boasted of their past,

Their present and future were secure,

I had to put up with their lengthy boast,

To me my past was a bore.

Occasionally I would hear or read

Of the passing of a relative

But that would filter through my mind

Like the proverbial sieve.

I had no time for such,

Sometimes I would send a card

But to attend, no way!

Those memories were already quite hard.

I really wanted to forget

My horrid growing-up past

Even though among my company

I did not belong in their class.

They merely tolerated me

For what I could do for them,

The jobs that they could never do

It was I they would always send.

They had the wealth but not the brains,

I was the lawyer in the group

But to maintain my membership

To their every request I would stoop.

To me that was a small price to pay

For the reputation that I enjoyed,

Where they went I was also seen

I was one of their envoys.

Money… there was more than just enough,

Friends in high places… more than a few,

Dignitaries, celebrities, the rich and famous,

All persons that everyone wished he knew.

These were all known to me,

They were at my fingertips,

I was having the time of my life

Just being with them on their trips.

What a drive as I motored along!

What a scintillating experience!

Compared to the struggle that I once endured

This was a desirable variance.

As the dizzying results reached my head

My foot responded in kind,

To the floorboard I pressed life’s pedal

And enjoyed the passage of time.

I took an extreme delight

In many a poor man’s plight,

The fact of the matter really was,

His nighttime was my glowing light.

As he suffered I prospered,

His discomfort added to my gain,

His representation was to my benefit

Even though it caused his pain.

I was my superiors’ puppet

But the poor was under my control,

And every one that I deceived

Took me closer to my goal.

To be rich and wealthy was my aim,

Nothing else could satisfy,

Whatever it cost to stake my claim

Nothing or no one dare deny.

I may be a puppet on their string

But I also had a plan,

At some point along the way

I would play the ace in my hand.

I should have slowed to take that curve

Instead my foot had remained flat,

I showed what I thought had been an ace

But it was the joker of the pack.

My journey came to a grinding halt,

My car would not respond,

I cranked the engine again and again

But there was not a sound.

I looked around for my support,

None of them was around,

They had set me up for this hard fall

Now I was prison bound.

I was smart but they were smarter,

At the time I could not see,

What they had I really wanted,

I did not care what it would cost me.

And as I hurtled down life’s highway

My ace was from their deck,

Too late I realized I had been fooled

Now I am a total wreck.

A wreck along life’s highway,

Another wreck by the side of life’s road,

Intoxicated by avarice and greed,

I ignored the highway’s code.

Lying on my back on my prison bed

My view my prison cell ceiling,

A lifetime incarcerated here

And not a hope after appealing.

Freedom is a precious gem

And liberty a pearl of great price,

The love of money is snow on life’s road

And avarice is like black ice.

My driving days are over,

My license has been revoked,

My friends are rollicking with laughter,

I am the butt of their joke.

Time after time I pinch myself

To stir me from this dream,

But then I hear the clang of a gate

Or hear a prisoner scream.

O how I wish with all my might

I could turn back the hands of my clock,

If only at best to my early past

That’s far better than this prison block.

If you are young and being care free

Don’t drive, rather I advise, take a trek,

It’s a better way to travel along life’s road

And avoid becoming one of life’s wrecks.

Stewart Russell © 2015