* Note to My Readers: Due to the busyness of the next month and a half, I'm making a few minor changes to my schedule of posting. All posts will continue to be made daily and will consist of material that has not appeared before on this blog. However, because my time will be taken up by my final thesis defense for my Master of Church History degree and by a trip to the Holy Land, several of my ongoing series will be on hold until May.

- On Wednesdays, I'll be posting some of my original poems from my college years, and then in May my "Evangeliad" poems will resume.

- On Thursdays, my series on "How to Be Miserable in Your Christian Life" will wrap up by the end of March. That will conclude that series for now; however, if you enjoyed it, please let me know, because I may add more to it at some later point.

- And on Fridays, my "Glimpses of Grace" series will be on hiatus until May. In the meantime, it will be replaced with a serialized, unpublished novella that I wrote back in 2005, "Worth It All." Beginning in the first week of May, "Glimpses of Grace" will return, this time in the Thursday slot, and a newly-composed adventure novel will be posted on Fridays.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

The Threshing Floor

Here's one of my earliest devotional poems, written while I was in college:

The Threshing Floor

Softly now I wait for Him…
He comes with fire and purity.
Chastening, speaking…
Gently, like the whisper of a dove’s wings
As it glides aloft upon the wind.
Furiously, like the war cry
Of a thousand mighty men prepared for war.
His thundering tenderness overwhelms me—
I am consumed by a rampant love
            I can’t begin to understand.
And He leads me to the threshing floor…
Many times I’ve been here—
This, a cross which frequently
            is mine to bear.
Will I ever be the victor?
Or shall this cruel fork
Always find some chaff
within my soul?
The Master takes me,
And casts my weary heart
To the refining, rushing wind.
Oh, the agony of being torn asunder!
Why can I not lie here in peace?
But I know that with pain comes purity,
And somehow I will become the useful grain
And the good seed of the Lord my God.
So I submit, that He may work.
I bow to the Master of Creation,
And He smiles at me
            with a tear in His eye.
And He takes His staff
And begins
            the winnowing of my heart.

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