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Thursday, June 20, 2013

Time to Tell

It is time to tell a story 
Maybe one just for you 
It is one of many in the only league of true
It is one of passion, pain, and glory
So gather 'round and sit down
Its time to tell a story
It is one of a king, a prince, a knight
It is one of an age old fight
The trees still tell their tale
And the wind still whispers its tune
Of the day all was finished and the law broken in two
The story of a captive crying out for help
The story of a savior who always did well
The story of a hero with compassion He couldn't disguise
As you look deep into His pain filled eyes
The story of a darkness in the busy streets
A voice from a cross crying "why have you forsaken me?"
A life mourned
Blood poured
A curtain torn
A burial in place
A large stone 
Plenty of Rome
Where is God's grace?
Sin is defeated
Victory and freedom
Death where is your power?
Jesus Christ is risen!

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

The Road To Damascus

I was a traveler, a weary traveler. A Pharisee of all Pharisee's of the line and tribe of Benjamin. I was just a popular guy on the long dusty road to Damascus. It wasn't a pleasure trip. Some might call it business. I tremble now at the thought.
I was filled with a zeal and hatred for those they called friends of Jesus of Nazareth. A cornerstone for the cause killing human beings... and souls.  I refused to see the truth, too blinded by the sole thought that the cause was honorable. In my hand I clutched a scroll granting me permission to do what I wanted with those friends of Jesus signed by the Sanhedrin. They trusted me to fix this rebellion and my strong will and stubborn streak refused to let me fail.
I was to blinded by religion and power to see the cold truth that I was the rebel not those who died an honorable death for a cause they knew to be true.
So here I was on the top of the religious world on that lonely road to Damascus. I gripped the thin scroll tighter in my hand and peered my face upward towards the blazing sun. All of a sudden the sky burst into a brilliant light. A blinding light. Before I realized what was happening I was on the hot desert floor with my hand shielding my face in a protective gesture. The voice that spoke was one of heart break and it tore my own.
"Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?"
"Who are you Lord?" I asked fearing the answer.
"I am Jesus whom you are persecuting."
At those words my whole mask of power, religion, and illusion of righteousness melted.
It took three days of being physically blind for me to see my lifelong spiritual blindness.  Now as I sit here wondering how many more would travel that beautiful rugged road to Damascus my pen scratches
For me to live is Christ to die is gain.
The story of Saul's conversion can be found in Acts chapter 9.

                                                                                                                    Written by Riley Henderson

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Only a Year

A year to ponder
A year to think 
A year to question why not me?
A year to look back on memories, to laugh and to cry
A year to wish youths didn't have to die
A year to long for something more
A year to find your heart yearning for the One standing at the door
A year of joy and one of pain
A year of black as night rain
But the dawn only comes after the night
Victory is only won after the fight
So we trudge on down the tunnel toward the Light of all lights.

Isaiah 49 : 30 - 31
For Even youths will grow tired and weary and young men stumble and fall, but those who hope in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary they will walk and not be faint.

In remembrance of my eighth grade year and the events that happened therein.