Father of the Faithful

Father Abraham

Called to leave his kin,

To journey to a land

God would show to him.

He marched right on in faith

 With God as his Guide,

His confidence also boosted

With Sarah by his side.

Diverting once to follow

The counsel from his wife,

Up came a predicament,

His two sons meant strife.

Ishmael was forced to go

 So reluctantly he went,

Isaac was the promise;

The seed that God had sent.

One day out of heaven

The sternest of tests came,

“Abraham, take Isaac

And offer him in My Name.”

Abraham heard and knew

It was God that spoke,

Without doubt he knew

 That this test was not a joke.

Early from home he set out

And headed for the place,

Determined to be obedient

But trusting God for grace.

Intent on following through

On God's precise command,

Raised the knife to strike

As the angel stopped his hand.

Abraham had passed the test

 And God gave him the nod,

“Now I know,” the angel said,

 “The fear you have for God.”

From this we can preview

The Lamb that was to come,

The Lamb slain before the world,

God’s own begotten Son.

Abraham was truly pleased

That God had spared Isaac,

There in a nearby thicket

A lamb was securely trapped.

Provided by God the Father

And placed in open view,

A shadow of the Lamb to come

Provided for me and you.

Jacob followed Isaac,

And Joseph his favourite son

Was the scourge of his siblings

The object of their fun.

He was sold into Egypt,

Rose to second in command

Then fed his entire family

When a famine struck the land.

God was always with him

And granted him His favour,

So to his entire family

He became a type of Saviour.

He repaid their evil dealings

With kindness and with love,

At last they came to realize

His help was from above.

But Joseph died in Egypt

And there in his coffin lay,

Requesting that he be moved

On the appointed day.

He told them of God’s visit

And of a coming change,

They’d leave the land of Egypt

Just as God arranged.

Joseph’s bones would not be left

 In Egypt on that day,

When God delivers them

And sets them on their way.

So down in the land of Egypt

Joseph would remain
Until the land of Canaan

Was theirs to make their claim.

Stewart Russell © November 2017

Extracted from:

The Bible in Poetry

Stewart Russell © 2013

At Wit’s End Or?

I know of a woman

She was most discreet

So she begged all that came

Her secret to keep.

Now this is not hearsay

I have a reliable word,

It is through something I read

And not something I heard.

You could take my word though

This is as true as they come,

I’ll tell you what I know

And then I’ll be done.

I know of this man

He was a very powerful man

But he did as he liked

And did not stick to the plan.

Well he got into trouble

And was at his wit’s end,

There was none to help him

Not a relative or a friend.

He tried calling on God

But that didn’t help

So you could well imagine

How this man felt.

Well, he asked around

Through the people he knew

And soon a particular woman

Came into view.

But to do what he wanted

His own law he must contravene

However, this was no big thing

It was a regular scene.

After all he was a big one

And a law maker too,

Remember I told you

He did whatever he wanted to do.

To this woman he went

And of her made his request,

It was clearly illegal

But she promised her best.

She reminded him of the law

And the penalty of death

But he swore to secrecy

Putting her mind at rest.

He took with him two men

And it was night:

The ideal time to do those things

Which by law were not right.

Well she knew his request

But she needed the specifics,

This he revealed to her

And the results were terrific.

An old man appeared

He was wearing a mantle,

By now you must have guessed

It was the prophet Samuel.

When the woman saw Samuel

She cried with a loud voice,

What she had encountered

Was not of her choice.

Straightway she recognized

That her patron wore a disguise,

It was he who’d passed this law

This law he’d now despised.

He inquired of her

Of what form was he,

"An old man wearing a mantle,"

Alarmingly said she.

This great man showed respect

To the prophet he had ignored,

Now before him bowed

Unlike what he had done before.

There one conversation ended

And another begun

Initiated by the prophet Samuel

That this man had shunned.

“Why have you disquieted me?

Why have you brought me up?”

This powerful man responded

By detailing his bitter cup.

He had had little regard

For the prophet during his life

But now disturbs his rest

Alerting him of his strife.

Well the prophet reminded him

There was nothing he could do,

God had rejected him

And that was his just due.

Before the prophet left him

He did prophesy

But the prophecy was of no comfort

For on the morrow he would die.

To the woman he kept his word,

She even prepared him a meal,

Eventually he and his two men left

Anticipating what was revealed.

True to every word

Came to pass what the prophet said,

The Philistines defeated his armies

Leaving him and his sons also dead.

Noticed the play on the title?

Did you pick it up?

To make a law than break it

Must be a poisoned cup.

How this great man had fallen!

What a devastating plunge had he!

Right down to the witch at En-dor!

I wonder how much was her fee.

Such has been the case

Of many a man in God’s Word,

That’s where I read it

It was not something I heard.

Stewart Russell © October 2017

July Standby!

It is half way through

And we are into July

There is no need to say

We should be on standby.

“Standby for what?”

Only a tourist should ask.

Well ever since beginning June

We should be on task.

“But on task for what?”

The likely next question:

Preparation for hurricanes

This is the reason.

Hence, July standby!

This is the why:

The prevalence of storms

We dare not deny.

“But we don’t get hit!”

That is foolish talk,

It is a stupid attitude

When these hurricanes stalk.

Harvey, Irma and Maria

Only last year these three

Created havoc in the Caribbean

And caused untold misery.

They were so awful

Their names were retired

And the damage they did

It was as though they conspired.

Yearly we are threatened

By many a storm

But because they miss us

On this we heap scorn.

Some people quarrel

About the preparations they make

And then no storm strikes

And this they hate.

  

They fret and they quarrel

What a waste of time!

“No hurricane can hit us,”

This is what they opine.

Oh we’ve had some brushes

But nothing to compare

To what the “mighty three” did

To countries quite near.

Hurricane Janet we recall

Struck sixty-three years ago

And when another will hit

Only God would know.

It can happen to us

For it has occurred before

So let us not fail to prepare

One might be at our door.

To fail to prepare

Is to prepare to fail

So be prepared! Be on standby!

Don’t ignore this detail!

Stewart Russell © July 2018