Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘SD’

Will you be there at that Great Homing Day? [1]

Will you be there when the clouds have rolled away?

You can answer at that final high Roll Call

You can be there if you’ve given Christ your all.

                – eab, Mar. ‘93


[1] Part of a longer poem, written in Oelrichs, SD.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Let death come to my desires.

I could be SO mistaken.

Make my goals ones that really count,

When the final count is taken. 

–eab, 5/94

Written in Oelrichs, SD

Read Full Post »

A BROTHER TAKEN [1]

 Some hours ago the message came,

A tiding rimmed in black.

Death has from our presence taken,

Taken to never more give back,

A brother (family – in Christ – is the same)

And we feel, (Shall I say it?) forsaken.

 

Some hours ago the message came,

A drear tiding trimmed in black,

The scythe of death has laid another,

Found our brother in its track,

Slain him, laid him.  He’ll not be back

 

Some hours ago the message came,

The solemn message of the dead,

These are always given and received with dread,

Sad the duty to deliver, sadder yet to stand and take;

Someone else has gone in sleep, we are still awake.

 

Some hours ago the dreary tiding,

Of death and distance, life and resistance,

Came to sadden home and heart.

Our brother has been taken, He did not awaken.

Death has forced us apart.

 

Death that hideous, unwanted scourge,

Smirk invader, undaunted persuader,

Has plunged us into the dark.

Stolen another husband, father, brother,

Death is brazen, final, cold, stark.

 

But, Death listen!  Listen.

You have an empty shell.  He is now well!

No more will sorrow or pain,

Cause our brother sleepless nights,

O’er trials, problems or slights,

He’s triumphant – these are slain.  – eab, 2/94

Penned while pastoring cowboys in Fall River County, SD.


[1] Steve D (Douglas) Herron d. 2/25/94, a dear brother and my “educational father.” I have missed him a lot!

Read Full Post »

Whether his name was Zacchaes or Zacharias is unknown but in the hotel industry he became known as *Zack.

 

It is not known if he inherited Bethlehem‘s “Best Eastern” from his family,

his wife’s family, or bought it out­right. 

 

But on THAT famous night he was the proprietor of the inn.

 

Zack may have been young or old, the record does not say. We are not informed if he was wealthy or poor – barely meeting his pay­ments on the inn.

 

Was Zack tall or short, skinny or fat? 

No docu­ments exist to acclaim his great learning or lack thereof.

 

Was Zack a gentleman with a handsome profile or did his face reveal low breeding? Were his words kind and friendly or were they harsh? 

 

We’re not told if he was attired in the latest Roman robe or if his appearance was con­servatively Hebrew.  Was he mar­ried?  Had HIS wife ever given birth to a child?  Had HE ever traveled from Bethlehem and needed a room?

 

What was he worth the night he died?  What were his perks?  How much did he earn each week?  Where was he born?  What was his genealogy? 

 

How long did he own the “famous” inn?  Did Zack enjoy plain mutton chops and bread or was he a connoisseur of Mediterranean dining?

 

Did he race camels, collect Hittite pottery or trivialize his time with some other hobby?

Were his days simple or scheduled seg­ments of managerial perfection? 

 

Zack’s hair, was it black, styl­ishly cut or was it a mere shadow of its former glory with an ex­ceedingly wide part?

 

We do not know his race, face, pace, or even his grace.  Was he a faithful worshipper at the local synagogue or had he imbibed “modern thoughts” about God? 

 

Did he ever learn who his AL­MOST Guest was?

 

For a key player in history we know so little about him.

 

HISTORY HAS LEFT BUT ONE FACT, ABOUT ZACK

                 – HE HAD NO ROOM FOR JESUS!

 

Written while pastoring Bible Holiness Chapel, Oelrichs, SD and printed in the Hot Springs Star (newspaper) Dec., 1995

 

* No, we have not discovered some old scroll detailing the inns of the Holy Land, but allow me to use Zack in stead of saying “the innkeeper” each time and it could even make this story more real.

Read Full Post »

If we could have been there “Creation Morning,”

When God (I speak reverently) played in dirt.

And glimpsed His pleasure in making man,

(And seen His grimace at thoughts of the hurt).

 

If we could have watched Him lattice the heavens,

With a trillion stars at a splash,

And felt Him harness ‘lectric lightning,

Giving it its sizzle and flash.

 

If we could have stood by in wonder,

As He “finished” the peacock’s tail.

And sensed His majestic power,

When He first “invented” hail.

 

If we could have seen it all, from freckled feather

To the smallest, azure lagoon;

We’d have seen Him “step back” with pleasure,

And gently sign it all “Triune!” –eab, 3/1995

    

Written while pastoring cowboys in Oelrichs, SD – left part of my heart in South Dakota.      

 

             

Read Full Post »

We live in three worlds;

The real, the imaginary, and the dream.

The real has nuts and bolts and such,

And quit clutters our lives with lint.

The imaginary we can fill day or night,

With things we like to invent.

But the world of dreams is different,

It’s neither tangible nor created by us.

It opens without our behest,

And closes again without fuss.

It is peopled by friends know long ago,

Or by strangers, strangers who came at night.

Dreams mix-up our acquaintances,

Until, though out of place, seem right.

Dreams can scare us into awakening,

So glad the cliff or lion scene,

Was not quit completed, or is so

The lion wasn’t even mean.

Or dreams can send us into a humorous world,

Where logic can go or stay,

And we ‘waken ourselves laughing,

And wonder why it’s colored this way.

Oh, we live in three worlds here and now.

The real, the invented, and dreams.

But in the one we control least of all,

Is the one famous for its night-time themes.  -eab,  2/1996

 

 Written while pastoring the Bible Holiness Chapel in Olerichs, South Dakota

Read Full Post »

I Am was His name when He made the first dame,

To birth and own her own.

And trees’ fruits and flowers were given genetic powers,

To produce exactly what was sown.

 

I Am was His name (and it’s always STILL the same –

– From everlasting, He is God!)

When He anviled the sun and gave it a course to run,

Over earth’s vast sand and sod.

 

I Am was His name when the world of past fame,

Was left desolate of its every, first-born.

And God lead His children out (even those with a pout);

Their cloths never suffered from the thorn.

 

And I Am He still is, in spite of “show biz,”

And Hollywood’s dethronement.

No puny man can e’er assume that glorious throne room,

No, not for a milli-moment.

 

I Am – what a name!  But it really is tame,

For all the Majesty, and Honor, and Might,

Of His eternal Being, so beyond human seeing,

And yet ever lies in faith’s sight.    -eab, 11/94

 

Written while enjoying the pastorate of the Bible Holiness Chapel in (Fall River County) Oelrichs, South Dakota.

Read Full Post »