Thursday, December 01, 2005

Book XI

1) living water
2) The Different Morning
3) Him
4) Emmaus..... and beyond
5) Thanksgiving Tribute
6) Song of a Town Crier at Thanksgiving Time


living water

living water, living water
flows from God’s Son, drink and live everyone
living water, living water
flows to the thirsty land

there is no price, there is no fee
God pours it out for you and for free

living water, living water
flows from God’s throne, unto His own.
living water, living water
flows from God’s throne for the dry and thirsty

a very Holy Flood from our Father above.
all from His love to you

living water, living water
precious and pure, immerse and be sure
living water, living water
water without which we die.

copyright © by david severy 2006

The Different Morning

“This is different.”

He said it, and for her it was not difficult to believe him. His anxiety was more than what she was accustomed to. It was contagious.

“They have done so many evil things. I have not told you the half of them, not even the tenth part.”

She began now to churn herself also inside. She was not a novice in life; her friends talked of what their husbands told them. But she never wanted to look deeper than was comfortable. Life has its daily troubles for everyone. Should she weigh everyone else’s too? But now, this time, she wanted him to go on. It was different. She knew it. Everyone did.

“They bribed one of his friends. They need everything to make it look kosher, but it can never be. This is different.”

He thanked her for the bread and tea. The sun was just beginning to wear down the chill of the night. It would be a clear day, a bright day.She sat beside him, and waited for him to continue. She did not speak, she knew he would. She knew when matters had to be spoken, and a wife who would not betray his confidence was something she knew he valued.

“We have watched him for some time. Abdiel saw the start of this in Nazareth. He speaks differently than the Rabbis. He makes us afraid.”

His pauses were becoming more pronounced. They were framing the story that was shaking their souls.

“He doesn’t let us live as we would. He says it, and we are naked in our own eyes. Why he has not been harmed more before now I don’t understand. It offends so many, what he says. But I have never heard him lie. It seems the truth has become our enemy.”

She knew this too. The gossip about this one was different. Different; everything was different. Others might not see it, but to them, to a religious family, and to their circle, every thing was different. She waited patiently.

“Abdiel told me, he told me he too was filled with rage against him. Just caught up in it, like a leaf in a whirlwind he told me. They drove him to the brow of the cliff, and would have thrown him from it. But then… where was he? Abdiel says he disappeared. After a moment they turned and saw him walking away, as if nothing had happened. How does he do it? Everything is a puzzle unless…”

His consternation reached a peak.

“Dearest…” She sought to comfort him, yet the pleading for him to continue she could not hide.

“…God is in this!”

The thought was completed. Yet was it not just so? They all thought so. They at least all wanted it to be so... sometimes.

The times were hard for the people.

They were comfortable, the religious. Their place was secured by their place with the people. Their standing as Rabbis gave them clout with Rome’s men. They did not shy away from the opportunities it opened to them. Therein was the madness that he despised. The evils that they accomplished were unspeakable; unspeakable if one would retain his place with the council. The silence he had kept was daily the heaviest of all his weight to carry.

But the times were hard for the people. Taxation was their burden, and the occupation.

He had brought into their world so much hope. To the people who desired simply to be comforted in their burdens, his words alone were marvelous. But his works… his works were dare they say it? His works were proof. He was from God.

“This man is God’s man Moselle, God’s man. Gamaliel says so. And I agree. It cannot be otherwise. And so, why? Why do we want him to go, to disappear? Why do we want God’s man to be silent? Why does his speech offend us? Why can we not receive him? What is it about him? But…”

Another pause, this one a beam laid in the frame for their souls. Ironic, as frames should be strong and unshakeable. This story has two sides, they all do. But one side is strong, and the other shaken.

Her silence waited.

“…it is us. We are not right in this thing. Something is happening to us, it is more than we know. More than I know. I see it, and even clearly at times, but I am afraid of it. I close my eyes to it; for I can neither have it all as it is, nor forbid it at all to be as it is. He is just beyond us; he just is different, so different. They hate him for it. The people follow him, and they hate him. They have lost their power with the people. Oh what the light he brings shows us of our selves. It is not good. Our leadership has not been by God’s word. He would not lead, were we God’s leaders. Oh my wife this is painful beyond the telling…”

His silent countenance screamed out. She admired his frankness, but she feared the consequences. Yet not of his words; it was their portent, for the thing had an end to it, and end that was ominous indeed. A man had been betrayed. Her husband’s closest associates had fabricated his betrayal. And Nicodemus had watched as they made him guilty. And now their city was awakening to a day of reckoning. She was sure that this day would decide Yeshua fate.

copyright © by david severy 2006


After it has all been crushed and all the fight has left your bones and nothing remains to lift your face but God's only Son;
Remember that He was crushed as are you, felled like a tree to the earth where you lie, and remember for you He was sent, came and died, and in such a cruel manner, they call crucified,
nailed to some wood from a tree on a day when His brothers were honoring God
in a way, and his foes were standing there watching Him bleed, forgave them He did, Abraham's Seed, this Son of King David, this Tower of Strength,
veiled in His mystery, yet He whom at length, would appear again living, to start and amaze the ones who had followed Him,
to bless them again who had been as crushed with Him,
and who would yet be crushed quite like He was.

Remember that you who yet live in the flesh, are as dead in your sins lest you have in you breath breathed in by His Spirit, power from on High.
Remember His crushing death. And remember the tomb, colder and darker than the earth where you lie; and then
REMEMBER the morning first day of the week and Mary, whose Gardener did turn to her speaking, one word: "Mary."
Hear Him call to you. He has come to you from the tomb, alive again.
To heal you. To make you soar with Him.
To give you the very substance of His Life everlasting.
And the Joy, the everlasting Joy, and exceeding gladness of His own self,
His presence, to cheer you to a victory by your faith.
Be not afriad. Only believe,
for all things
are possible
with God.


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Emmaus..... and beyond
Teach me Lord how to pray,
Teach me Lord, what to say,
Teach me Lord, day by day,
How shall I walk in Thy Holy Way?



Thanksgiving Tribute

Many gods had I, and many other loves,

Passions filled my daily life, but none were from above.
Then one blessed day, came on the wings of a dove,
This One who filled my heart, soul and mind with Awe and Wondrous Love.

Your mercy never ends,

Your favor precious, Lord,
Your pardon for my sin sick soul,
Flows freely from your Word.

Yeshua, sweet compassionate One,

You O God, my heart have won,
Thank You God for Your Son.

Never was there one like You, nor will ever be,

A God so faithful to His Word, One so rich and free,
One who careth on and on, a God of liberty,
Who daily loads up all I need, and gives abundantly,
Who never fails to fill my cup, the One who died for me,
And rose up triumphing by LOVE, over every enemy.

Much had filled my life, like stones thrown in a well,

Lies poured out upon my ear, which none should ever tell.
Strife and anxiousness, walked by me everyday,
But suddenly came One from above to show a better Way.

So on in Victory, through fire and toil and flood,

My soul clings close to Calvary’s cross, for there was shed the Blood,
The Blood of God so pure, unlike any other man’s…
This poured upon the sin stained world, from God! from God alone, who alone did ...>>> !!!

!!! >>>... forgive by this One Deed, all they that ever harmed

Life and limbs of mortal men, I being one of them.
I’m one who God forgave, my many evil deeds,
And ransomed me from the devil's grasp for all eternity.

O hallelu Yah, Thank You Yeshua!

For Your mercy and great grace yet so undeserved.
And Thank You Father above for the love and forgiveness which
Stills Flows deep and pure to we who tread this earth…

O Praise and Thank You, O glory to You,

O let Your Name be ever heard
from every tongue and every tribe,
and people and nation, 
Ever now and forever........

>>>>>>>>>>>>......................................^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ......................................<<<<<<<<<<<<


Song of a Town Crier at Thanksgiving Time

The starting point: ready, set, go ... that we know.
The Finish line ... we know not when...
all is discovery; mysteries are written
... in stone and in the wind.

Begun in innocence?
We may believe it is so, yet soon enough we
discover the cries of the infants
are ours also, and as our cries now, theirs will be.

Does the child’s query “Why?” ever die?
Fade it does as they are trained to forage and scheme.
Yet secret things whisper to us all in quieter times.
Will we hear them and search them out?

The paths of mystery run through the earth and life,
a certain end we see at a distance,
and we see others arrive there first, did they search?
Secrets discovered but kept we will not know.

Will we seek also?
Or will the maddening noise of our wheels
drive us, capture us, crush us? Somewhere
in the distance we will all be captured and crushed.

Time to smell the roses (and be thankful for them) is
taken captive by hunger pains and games, and by pride.
We push to thrashing for our agenda and advantage.
Our living is mostly maintenance.

We labor to live it well and long,
yet we reach the finish,
yet undone,
And to that mystery all do bow.

Beginnings and endings, turning, spinning,
shadows fall but the light returns.
Circles, cycles, days and years... starts and starting again,
all does end, are we are finished at our end.

Tomorrow we may die, and pleasure is commended, but
DEATH is the elephant in every room.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>....................................................... <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

I wrote this while waiting for a friend who was having maintenance done by a surgeon on his right eye. After I wrote it, I picked up a Time magazine, Sept. 30th, 2013. The cover article was:
Can Google Solve DEATH?
The richest man ever to live did commend both labor (maintenance?) and pleasure (enjoying the fruits of labor). And that man, Solomon, the third King of Israel, son of David and Bathsheba, also said to be the wisest man who ever lived, did also write, in better words than mine:

1 Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, “I have no pleasure in them”; 2 before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars are darkened and the clouds return after the rain, 3 in the day when the keepers of the house tremble, and the strong men are bent, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those who look through the windows are dimmed, 4 and the doors on the street are shut—when the sound of the grinding is low, and one rises up at the sound of a bird, and all the daughters of song are brought low— 5 they are afraid also of what is high, and terrors are in the way; the almond tree blossoms, the grasshopper drags itself along, and desire fails, because man is going to his eternal home, and the mourners go about the streets— 6 before the silver cord is snapped, or the golden bowl is broken, or the pitcher is shattered at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern, 7 and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit returns to God who gave it. 8 Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher; all is vanity.
9 Besides being wise, the Preacher also taught the people knowledge, weighing and studying and arranging many proverbs with great care. 10 The Preacher sought to find words of delight, and uprightly he wrote words of truth.
11 The words of the wise are like goads, and like nails firmly fixed are the collected sayings; they are given by one Shepherd. 12 My son, beware of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh.
13 The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. 14 For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil.

Ecclesiastes 12

English Standard Version (ESV)

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