THE BIRTH

The silence had been deafening for many, many years. Malachi had prophesied and then he disappeared. Four hundred years of silence. No word had come from God. They’d thought about their homeland and thought that it was odd. Why had the Lord been silent? Where was His awesome power? Had He gone on a journey? Too long they’d had to cower, Subjected to the foreigners who ruled the Holy Land. There had to be a better way to follow God’s command. Yet deep down in the spirit of only just a few, There was a kind of buzzing, suggesting God would do The thing which He had promised so many years ago. Messiah would be with them as God had told them so. The daughters of the nation; the ones who were not wed; Were asking, “Could I be the one of which the prophets said?” The virgins who descended from David’s royal line, Were hoping they would be the one, their child would be the sign. Not many young girls qualified. A handful; little more; Their son could be Messiah. It thrilled them to the core. But most were disappointed. There was no reason why. They only knew that one of them would carry God Most High. And then one night it happened. A little teenage girl, Was doing what she had to do, her mind was in a whirl. Before her was a visitor. The Angel of the Lord. He told her she was favoured; and great was her reward. For soon she would be pregnant; her child would be God’s Son. She knew that it would happen, but how would it be done? She would be overshadowed by the Spirit of the Lord. The baby Whom she would bring forth was Israel’s great reward. Did anyone believe her? Let me put it this way. If your young teenaged daughter came up to you to say, That she was impregnated; This is what God had done. I think I’d tell her quietly to pass me the shot gun. I’d go and find the scoundrel who’d treated her this way. And when I get my hands on him, he’ll surely rue the day. I’m not sure I’d believe her. All babies have a dad. To blame the whole thing on the Lord, I think you must be mad! Would that be your reaction? It proves you’re not a Jew. The nation was expecting it. But would my daughter do? Would she be favoured highly? Or was she just a slut. She better soon get married was churning in my gut. Two thousand years have come and gone since Mary heard that day The message of the angel. It all worked out that way. Indeed she was the woman; Messiah was her Son. The news the angel brought to her indeed it had been done. Creation’s great designer had chosen Mary’s womb. To break into this sinful world and spell out Satan’s doom. Jim Strickland – written Tuesday, 19 July 2011

BEING A SHEEP

It’s really not important what we think about the Lord. There’s all sorts of opinions that people could afford. But do they really matter? Oh Yes indeed they do. But God is not the subject of either me or you. I may think He’s a tyrant with a face as black as sin. I may think He is beautiful locked up inside a tin. But all of my impressions don’t alter Him at all. He’s Lord of all creation regardless of my call. But if I want to follow Him, I need to understand, I have to think about Him the way that He has planned. It’s not so much a question of what I think of Him. What is much more important is what He thinks of Jim! He says He is our shepherd. This means I am a sheep. It’s isn’t complimentary but something I must keep, Constantly before me as I follow where He leads. If I wander off then I will miss out on my feed. It means I’m very stubborn. My hearing’s rather poor. He knows there’s a solution that will absolutely cure, The problem of my waywardness. He simply breaks my paw. Then picks me up and carries me till its no longer sore. He winds me round His shoulders. My head is on His heart. I listen to it beating until it is a part, Of living where He takes me. He feeds me from His hand. And when He puts me down again I’ll never leave His band. He takes me to still waters that will not go up my nose. He only has to say my name, then everywhere He goes, I’ll follow him no matter where He is leading me. And when I am in danger He protects me constantly. He keeps me from the lion, the eagle and the bear; And when I am in trouble, I know that He is there. He keeps away diseases caused by insects, bugs or flies. He keeps me warm in winter under cold and dark blue skies. He leads me to green pastures; to verdant fields of grass, Where I can graze in safety and the predators can’t pass. This is the sort of picture that Jesus has of me. He knows my every weakness and how foolish I can be. But even in rebellion I know that He is there; And that He never ceases to hold me in His care. This is the Lord’s opinion. This is the man He sees. A creature with a stubborn streak of vague anxieties. A man who has no talent apart from what He gave, Who’s on a lifetime journey from the cradle to the grave. A man who has a need for Him I do not understand. A man whom He has rescued from the journey of the damned. Who doesn’t understand it. Why He did this for me? He thought I was important. His reason I can’t see. Jim Strickland – Written Monday, 18 July 2011