Wednesday, February 17, 2016

I sought long and hard ..something.. as He, the Hound, of heaven pursued after. He chased me in love until He captured my heart.

I am not good, but Jesus is. You and me; we can't save anyone, but He can. 

Where in the Bible does it say I am good..or you are? It says One is good. I have sinned. Where does it say we initiate good..or the seeking of Him who is good? It doesn't--we can respond to the Initiator, and then we can help other too! If you knew all my deeds, attitudes, heart conditions and sins like I know em, you'd never stop to talk with me. If I knew all your deeds, attitudes, heart conditions and sins like God knows em, apart from having Christ inside of me.. I'd sadly never stop to talk with you. Jesus would. He did for me. 

If people begin to seek after God, it's because the Holy Spirit initiates--He woos them to Jesus. He does that through Christians witnessing in love. Otherwise people never do seek Him. Pray, go fetch, bring with! March 6th! AT&T Cowboy Stadium. Not many days until!!!..

"I let Myself be sought by those who did not ask for Me; I let Myself be found by those who did not seek Me. I said, ‘Here am I, here am I,’ To the nation [Israel] which did not call on My Name. 'I have spread out My hands all the day long to a rebellious and stubborn people, who walk in the way that is not good, [following] after their own thoughts and intentions, the people who continually provoke Me to My face.." Isaiah 65:1-3a amp
The devil prefers me dead.. and you too. He temps people, lures, bates his traps, and kills when he can.. both slow and fast--prefers fast. Still does, but the Lord longs to give abundant life.. with no ending. Still does. The former is into stealing, killing and destroying. He's a dweeb and loser. 

Me? Was into parties, volleyball, skiing, and surfing.. tried so many things. Didn't mind the short-lived pleasure--tried to make it last a bit longer. I sought long ..something to make me happy.. as He, the Hound, of heaven pursued after.. He chased me in love until He caught me. Out of moves and my own solutions I let Him. It was either the Lord and His good plan or creepy Mr. Lu-Cifer and his.

“Like a good chess player, Satan is always trying to maneuver you into a position where you can save your castle only by losing your bishop.” ~ C.S. Lewis

Lewis wrote of getting found by Christ in, “The Weight of Glory,” where "my sense of longing for another place became the foundation for how I now live: not to be so enamored with the shadows of this world as to forget the reality of our hope." Then he spoke of settin' his heart for Jesus and evangelism because if eternity is reality, then we are constantly dealing with folks who are destined for a place, for eternity in paradise in the presence of our Maker or forever in a nightmare that doesn't end, doomed without any prospect of redemption. Our time to work here is limited--there's no hope beyond their grave. Choose to turn and cooperate with the Holy Spirit. Seek the Lord today. Be found while you can! Help your buds get that way too. Seeking in the Old and New Testaments.. has to do with a “setting of the mind and heart” on the Lord. It's a conscious choice we each make.. of fixing or focusing of our mind’s attention and our heart’s affection on God

Seeking involves biblical whole-hearted worship in connection with God and His Church, it involves Bible study--hearing from Him, and simply calling out to Him and pleading in prayer.
"Seek and deeply long for the Lord and His strength His power, His might; seek and deeply long for His face and His presence continually." Psalm 105:4 amp

Read this poem I so love... "I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
   I fled Him, down the arches of the years;

I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways

   Of my own mind; and in the midst of tears

I hid from Him, and under running laughter.Je

             Up vistaed hopes I sped;

             And shot, precipitated,

Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears,

   From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.

             But with unhurrying chase,
             And unperturbèd pace,
     Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
             They beat—and a Voice beat
             More instant than the Feet—
     'All things betray thee, who betrayest Me'.
             I pleaded, outlaw-wise,
By many a hearted casement, curtained red,
   Trellised with intertwining charities;
(For, though I knew His love Who followed,
             Yet was I sore adread
Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside.)
But, if one little casement parted wide,
   The gust of His approach would clash it to:
   Fear wist not to evade, as Love wist to pursue.
Across the margent of the world I fled,

   And troubled the gold gateway of the stars,
   Smiting for shelter on their clanged bars;
             Fretted to dulcet jars
And silvern chatter the pale ports o' the moon.
I said to Dawn: Be sudden—to Eve: Be soon;
   With thy young skiey blossom heap me over
             From this tremendous Lover—
Float thy vague veil about me, lest He see!
   I tempted all His servitors, but to find
My own betrayal in their constancy,
In faith to Him their fickleness to me,
   Their traitorous trueness, and their loyal deceit.
To all swift things for swiftness did I sue;
   Clung to the whistling mane of every wind.
          But whether they swept, smoothly fleet,
     The long savannahs of the blue;
            Or, whether, Thunder-driven,
          They clanged his chariot 'thwart a heaven,
Plashy with flying lightnings round the spurn o' their feet:—
   Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue.
             Still with unhurrying chase,
             And unperturbed pace,
      Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
             Came on the following Feet,
             And a Voice above their beat—
'Naught shelters thee, who wilt not shelter Me.'
I sought no more after that which I strayed
          In face of man or maid;
But still within the little children's eyes
          Seems something, something that replies,
They at least are for me, surely for me!

I turned me to them very wistfully;
But just as their young eyes grew sudden fair
         With dawning answers there,
Their angel plucked them from me by the hair.
Come then, ye other children, Nature's—share
With me’ (said I) 'your delicate fellowship;
          Let me greet you lip to lip,
          Let me twine with you caresses,
          With our Lady-Mother's vagrant tresses,
          With her in her wind-walled palace,
          Underneath her azured dais,
          Quaffing, as your taintless way is,
             From a chalice
Lucent-weeping out of the dayspring.’
             So it was done:
I in their delicate fellowship was one—

Drew the bolt of Nature's secrecies.
          I knew all the swift importings
          On the wilful face of skies;
           I knew how the clouds arise
          Spumèd of the wild sea-snortings;
             All that's born or dies
          Rose and drooped with; made them shapers
Of mine own moods, or wailful divine;
          With them joyed and was bereaven.
          I was heavy with the even,
          When she lit her glimmering tapers
          Round the day's dead sanctities.
          I laughed in the morning's eyes.
I triumphed and I saddened with all weather,
          Heaven and I wept together,
And its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine:
Against the red throb of its sunset-heart
          I laid my own to beat,
          And share commingling heat;
But not by that, by that, was eased my human smart.
In vain my tears were wet on Heaven's grey cheek.
For ah! we know not what each other says,
          These things and I; in sound I speak—
Their sound is but their stir, they speak by silences.

Nature, poor stepdame, cannot slake my drouth;
          Let her, if she would owe me,
Drop yon blue bosom-veil of sky, and show me
          The breasts o’ her tenderness:
Never did any milk of hers once bless
             My thirsting mouth.
             Nigh and nigh draws the chase,
             With unperturbed pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy;
             And past those noisèd Feet
             A voice comes yet more fleet—
          'Lo! naught contents thee, who content'st not Me.'

Naked I wait Thy love's uplifted stroke!
My harness piece by piece Thou has hewn from me,
             And smitten me to my knee;
          I am defenceless utterly.
          I slept, methinks, and woke,
And, slowly gazing, find me stripped in sleep.
In the rash lustihead of my young powers,
          I shook the pillaring hours
And pulled my life upon me; grimed with smears,
I stand amidst the dust o' the mounded years—
My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap.
My days have crackled and gone up in smoke,
Have puffed and burst as sun-starts on a stream.
          Yea, faileth now even dream
The dreamer, and the lute the lutanist;
Even the linked fantasies, in whose blossomy twist
I swung the earth a trinket at my wrist,
Are yielding; cords of all too weak account
For earth with heavy griefs so overplussed.
          Ah! is Thy love indeed
A weed, albeit an amarinthine weed,
Suffering no flowers except its own to mount?
          Ah! must—
          Designer infinite!—

Ah! must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn with it?
My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust;
And now my heart is as a broken fount,
Wherein tear-drippings stagnate, spilt down ever
          From the dank thoughts that shiver
Upon the sighful branches of my mind.
          Such is; what is to be?
The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind?
I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds;
Yet ever and anon a trumpet sounds
From the hid battlements of Eternity;
Those shaken mists a space unsettle, then
Round the half-glimpsed turrets slowly wash again.
          But not ere him who summoneth
          I first have seen, enwound
With glooming robes purpureal, cypress-crowned;
His name I know and what his trumpet saith.
Whether man's heart or life it be which yields
          Thee harvest, must Thy harvest-fields
          Be dunged with rotten death?
             Now of that long pursuit
             Comes on at hand the bruit;
          That Voice is round me like a bursting sea:
          'And is thy earth so marred,
          Shattered in shard on shard?
          Lo, all things fly thee, for thou fliest Me!
          'Strange, piteous, futile thing!
Wherefore should any set thee love apart?
Seeing none but I makes much of naught' (He said),
'And human love needs human meriting:
          How hast thou merited—
Of all man's clotted clay the dingiest clot?
          Alack, thou knowest not
How little worthy of any love thou art!
Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee,
          Save Me, save only Me?
All which I took from thee I did but take,
          Not for thy harms,
But just that thou might'st seek it in My arms.
          All which thy child's mistake
Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home:
          Rise, clasp My hand, and come!'
   Halts by me that footfall:
   Is my gloom, after all,
Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly?

   'Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,

   I am He Whom thou seekest!

Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest Me." ~ Francis Thompson

“If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” Colossians 3:1–2 

“Now set your mind and heart to seek the Lord your God.” 1 Chronicles 22:19 

“Seek the Lord while he may be found; call upon him while He is near.” Isaiah 55:6 

“If you will seek God and plead with the Almighty for mercy...” Job 8:5
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