Praise and Poetry II

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Night and Day
By Arley Steinhour
Father God,
It's time for me to take my walk,
And put myself to bed,
All night I'll hear my Bible talk,
With its Audio in my head.

The house is cool, I'll snuggle down,
Beneath the Flannel comforter,
Rigged to sleep, look like a clown,
All things perfect, stops sleep time torture.

Laptop plays well on battery,
The hours, three point five,
Plug it in, for another three,
Bible feeds Prophetic drive.

I've played your word, so many times,
I should know it all by heart,
I know it helps me with my rhymes,
And conversations, sometimes start.

Then, when I'm awake, in study mode,
With you, I can better share,
From my heart scripture takes a load,
And deposits the dross, somewhere.

I want so much to please you,
To know your every mood,
Like slow cooked chunky stew,
Your word is Spirit Food.

When I wake up, it's to your word,
Speaking, softly in my ear,
I turn it off, so my praise is heard,
Starts my day with Godly cheer.

My daylight hours, spent with you,
Studying how Prophecy does fit,
In news of day, I'll find a clue,
And I blog the best of it.

I know I'm blessed by You, above,
You fill my every need,
As I seek souls, to witness your Love,
So their hearts, you too can feed.

AMEN

I'd love to pray, as well as you,
With intensity, and Love,
To Praise, and honor you, so true,
Like you do us, from above.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50334/

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Inspired by brother Charles Ryalls' Ponder/Discussion

FOURTH WATCH
By Arley Steinhour 111412

Dear Father, God, I come to you,
With Praise, and Supplication.,
With question raised, by more than few,
Concerning Fourth-Watch implication.

What time, Dear God, is best for man,
That we might lean on you, our Rock,
When life on earth is held within a span,
Perchance, Fourth Watch, Three O'clock?

Is that when your Angelic Messenger,
Passes through, collecting what we've done,
Good and bad, for placement in the Manger,
For contemplation, by Only Begotten Son?

Does he, then, deliver words from you,
To our hearts, without the Spirit-Fence,
To welcome guidance, from you, to do,
Valued on our ability, Denary, or a Pence?

A few of us have taken notice,
That we wake up most every night,
At or near Forth Watch time of Three,
From our sleep, eyes without sight.

We feel him there, just passing through,
For a time, or 'Blink of eye,'
that time of dreams, and things to do,
As you teach our hearts to fly.

A Visit often removes great pain,
Or, direct us on different life-tack,
That keeps us on the Path, for Gain,
Or take away, our load of life, from back.

May we serve you every mortal day,
In your blessings, Seven, Twenty-four,
May we wrestle not, but, live your way,
And, at Fourth Watch, keep learning more.

AMEN

While lying sound asleep at night,
I often wake to Prayer and Light,
Often though, it's Angel flight,
With a message, God wants me do right.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50338/

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Rope a Dope
By Arley Steinhour 111412

the Sun has set upon the Day,
A new day, now is born,
Through the night, in dreams we pray,
Awaiting Gabriel's horn.

That horn will sound across the land,
To let all know you're here,
To place on hand your Wedding Band,
To Snatch the Bride, so Dear.

It's taken twenty centuries,
For Father to let the Trumpet Sound,
Your Bride has had her fantasies,
Right Snatching time wasn't found.

Generations, of mortality,
Twisted how you'd have Bride be,
Like, out of season Fig tree,
Good fruit was not to be.

You knew, from the beginning,
That problems would arise,
Wheat and Tare, needed thinning,
For you, the wait was no surprise.

At last, the time is almost here,
When, like a thief, you do appear,
The insane thoughts of man, I fear,
Requires you Snatch your Bride from here.

Most of mankind won't understand,
Why the Church/Bride isn't here,
Excuses made, are wrought of sand,
With no substance, strength, nor clear.

If all of this sounds gloomy,
You can bet that's what it be,
Rapture Home should not be so roomy,
But, too many refused to see.

We witnessed to friend and family,
As often as we could,
Told them with all certainty,
'Repent, you know you should.'

Dear Lord, you know this story,
But I'm hoping some will see,
That, through you, Eternal Glory,
The only way they can be Free.

Remember the famous Boxer,
Who fought with 'Rope a Dope,'
I, too, am trying catch them foxier,
I want to give the 'Dope, some Hope.'

AMEN

When Jesus walked with mortal man,
To save, He'd lift them by their hand,
Today, Disciples witness, as best we can,
Unsaved, need to: 'Accept God's wedding band.'
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50350/

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Good Morning God 111612
By Arley Steinhour

Dear Father God, my praise to you,
As I'm waking up this morning,
I know Lord, your Will be Done,
In this land, flowing sea to sea.

You've decided, Barach Obama,
Should serve another four,
My present thoughts are simply this,
You have judged this land, a whore.

I fear Civil Revolution,
From Patriotic, in the land,
No matter who you've chosen,
We'll lose America, so grand.

Through the years, we didn't watch,
And see how much we've changed,
Thinking all was going well,
We let greed turn into mange.

Our fiscal hair is falling out,
Scabs and Scales, infect the body,
Without your rain of blessings,
We become a Social desert waddi.

Freedom's path, beneath our feet,
Will constrain us, much less free,
until at shoreline, huddled in defeat,
Without a Moses, parting waters, not to see.

The pharaoh type, that hates us,
Will take many rebelling Patriot life,
Especially, of them that ever be,
Your Jew and Christian part of wife.

Dear Lord, I don't expect much,
As I know, your Will be Done,
May you soon receive the Church,
Rescued by your Blessed Son.
AMEN

The FEMA camps, all, may soon fill up,
In this land, that once was Free,
Drinking, full to empty, the Martyr's cup,
In this land, no one thought could be,
. . . . . . In Total Slavery . . . . . .
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50397/

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SEE and SAY U S A
By Arley Steinhour 111712
(Inspired by these flowers)

What do I see,
What do I say,
That's easy for me,
I see U S A,

The shape, is perfect,
The colors, too,
Look and Inspect,
Red, White, and Blue.

Every color include, in Countries Book,
Banded together, but separate too,
Cries U S A, everywhere I look,
Different, but same, like me and you.

This country's like a woven basket,
Has a place, for all that come,
Wanting Life, not Slavery Casket,
Forbidding Special rights, for 'Some.'

The flowers, stems, and even thorn,
Intertwined flexible, for Social Strength,
To better blow the Freedom Horn,
Having Life, of Greater Length.

The flowers, and Breadbasket shape,
In glory, invites 'Seeker,' or attack,
Those seeking, are offered protective cape,
'Attacker,' always be fought back.

Notice the ring of vases,
Surrounding the basket shape,
Flowers cut off, in hostile cases,
Defending Sight, Smell, and Shape.

The only true danger anywhere,
Might come, like rot, from within,
By seekers of special benefit care,
Destructive, just like Mortal Sin.

Involving, now, He who designed,
This wondrous Way of Life,
Sees the Rot, in stems entwined,
Causing great, internal, Strife.

No one will change their heart, it seems,
Worse yet, far fewer care,
Thinking of self, and selfish dreams,
We may lose our Freedom, we share.

In the name, of our Living God,
Take note, of what we're doing,
Prepare to bear His Iron Rod,
With Life-meat, not worth 'Shewing.'

AMEN

Cut-off flowers in the vases,
Protective ring, for one and all,
Without Patriots, There’d be no traces,
Of Land of Freedom, for-which they fall.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50409/

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GOD and Me
By Arley Steinhour 111812

God as the Father, God as the Son,
God as the Spirit, God, Only One,
So full of love, for all mankind,
Should have thrown us away, like a pumpkin rind.

But, for Loves reason, you didn't fuss,
You came and died on a tree,
So, you could prove your Love, for us,
To all mortality, and me, to see.

We need, repentance, through the Son,
To ask with all our heart,
You purchase all the Sin we've done,
And Reward us, a Heavenly part.

We'll dance in Heaven, praise your name,
Forever, there before you,
Blessed by You, Owned just the same,
By our Loving God, Ever True.

Soon, dear Jesus, yes, soon we be,
Upon the Gold that paves your road,
With dross removed, clean as can be,
Where never a step, is a filthy load.

You might make me Court Jester,
I love to see folks laugh,
However you decide, Dear Father,
You know the End, without using New Math.

I keep forgetting you know the end
As You've known it from the beginning
Before I was, you knew who I'd been,
Even before Adam could start Sinning.

I was ignorant, if you I'd please,
I spent a lifetime searching my cores,
Here I am, in my Geriatricies,
I know who I am, ... I'm Yours.

AMEN

When times, in life,
Are tough and stiff,
Through all that strife,
You save us from the cliff.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50411/

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Night Dream 111812
By Arley Steinhour

With your special Blessing,
May I enter this new day,
With greater joy, and help, suppressing,
The heavy weight of consternation, I Display.

I pray, what I see, in Obama,
Is not what I think I see,
I fear it is, he hates this land,
And wants our people, to not be free.

He wants to Rule, and be the King,
Messiah, by any other name,
He somehow persuades, through golden tongue,
To sway the masses, with growing fame.

I offer up my feelings,
Dear God, you know they're mine,
I honor you, and Praise you,
I know things turn out fine.

I never thought that people,
Would sell their mortal souls,
For something like Welfare handout,
That proves them all great fools.

As in the days of Noah,
And, oh yes, even Lot,
I do believe your prophecy,
Is about to come a-bout.

No matter how we told them,
Chicken Little they called me,
If you did as I said you promised,
What a Hero, I would be.

I must keep calling out, 'Repent,'
Come live within, Jesus' Tent
Repent, Repent, Repent,
Time of the Gentile is almost spent.

I pray I'm right, for a change,
Soon, you're coming for your Bride,
We'll find out, one of these days,
When you call, with arms opened wide.

And each day I'll say, what I need to say,
Until law-hounds kick down my door,
To take my Christian body away,
Laying dead, upon the floor.

Much like Peter, at Olivet hillside,
I feel I will, with strength, resist,
If I do, I hope they work with pride,
I won't feel where the bullet kissed.

It just a death, my first one,
So I can come home to you,
I'm just too old, fat, and ugly,
To do the job I used to do.

Dear Lord, I guess I ramble,
Bless today, as only you can,
No matter how things turn out,
Bless me as your Christian man.

AMEN

There's no picture, I can offer,
That depicts the sadness in my heart,
Some folks will, faithful to the Scoffer,
Rebuff my dream right from the start.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50412/

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Tale of Two Stations
By Arley Steinhour 111812

I thought I'd go to town today,
But twenty miles is way too far,
Not enough reasons to go to play,
When I couldn't start my car.

I knew I had to gas-up,
The tank was almost dry,
But my fill-up had a hick-up,
As the Gas-gauge, told a lie.

The needle sits there, proudly,
Just above the great big 'E,'
Normally that gives me, handily,
Twenty miles, or more, for free.

I guess my car is getting old,
and can't remember how to gauge,
My tank now echo's oh so bold,
It's my fault, so I can't rage.

I pondered all the avenues,
That might get me across the nation,
Except the one I don't want to choose,
Push the car a block, to the station.

My macho blood just boils,
Someone might see, and know,
That my mind sometimes toils,
To remember where to go.

The station, that's a block away,
Costs more than the one that's two,
My thought, is it worth a heart attack,
Just to save a buck while pushing 'through.'

At last the answer's made for me,
My son stopped by with his truck,
He delivers gas to farmers, for free,
I guess that includes his dad, the schmuck.

I hope you liked my little tale,
Not a word of it is true,
Started typing and let fingers sail,
And came up with this, for you.

AMEN

The car in photo would have been,
Brand new, when I legally started driving,
Two years of practice before, called sin,
Kept the County coffers thriving. (^8
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50417/

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Inspiration for this poem:

Treasury Secretary Geithner: Lift Debt Limit to Infinity
cnsnews.com/news/article/treasury-secretary-geithner-lift-debt-limit-infinity

U S A Blessed to Fail
By Arley Steinhour 111912

There's no Big Brother for U S A,
Who can take away our Woe,
The debt we now make, we can't pay,
As the Interest swallows total cash flow.

We are beyond that mark, today,
Our strength, dimly lit behind,
In a short time, others have their say,
'Where's that Mighty Nation, we can't find?'

America, will still have a place in life,
on a corner, begging, toothless and blind,
Condemned to a life, of service, and strife,
Owners of nothing, those God 'Left Behind.'

'Where is this mighty nation,' they'll say,
As they swagger past our tattered sash,
'We took their help, in Foreign Aid each day,
Until we sucked them dry, of cash.'

The new World leader, praises all they've done,
To make the 'Christian' nation fall,
It takes a year or two, of worldwide fun,
Until they notice, they've lost it all.

They had their day of fun and play,
Till they ended, back in debt,
This time, to Satan's filthy sway,
Big Brother America, can't cover the bet.

They wail, they cry, they think they'll die,
That's exactly what they do,
The well they drank from, was fully dry,
World populace, dwindles more than a Few.

Revival to God, of Christian and of Jew,
Through God's Elect, Great Revival starts,
Spirit filled Israel, starts teaching the Few,
Preaching Redemption, and baptizing hearts.

The U S A, has played its part well,
Sacrificed, for final Revival inception,
Marked souls refusing, end up in Hell,
Abrahamic promise fulfilled to Perfection.

For the reader, not saved, please bend a knee,
Confess that your sinful, ask Jesus to Bless you,
He'll welcome you back to where you should be,
Blessed into Heaven, not in Hell, with the Few.

AMEN

Take this down, and fetch me,
A Single Cheese, with fries,
If there's any left, or maybe free,
You may dine, with what survives.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50428/

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GODs Daily Bread
By Arley Steinhour 112812

Start each day, with a prayer,
As you are waking up, anew,
Blessing God, for just being there,
Offering today, a Gift, for you.

Brightly search your waking heart,
For hints of Sin and Dross,
Ask His cleansing at the start,
For 'today,' without Sin Loss.

Each daily-bread, a gift through prayer,
That fills the heart, much like food,
Constant Praise, for God given fare,
Keeps the Setting, clean and good.

Once your day-plate is overflowing,
Note the things that pass you by,
So when a food spot is later showing,
Address what passed, that caught your eye.

From your fare, Munch, a bite or two,
With Spirit Dressing placed close by,
The other side of meat, goes potato,
With many eyes, total truth espy.

Each day you live, dine on God's true fare,
So that your Spirit waist grows fat,
Don't worry about what you're going to wear,
He knows best, where your heart is at.

So Praise our God, and dine with Him,
His word of great flavor beckons,
Gaining weight, in Him, keeps one trim,
Even when you desire third-serving, Seconds.

AMEN

Start each day in simple prayer,
God dines on your every word,
He's blessed in the Praise we share,
HIS Eternal Blessings, our Reward.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50581/

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Chicken Little Ponder
By Arley Steinhour 113012

There's a chicken in my dresser drawer,
I think, today I'll just put it on,
I'll sound more like an 'Egg confessor,'
Than a Prophet, of the Son.

The U N pulled a dirty deed,
In a vote, just yesterday,
Against its every normal feed,
It made a country, without a way.

The voting, and the arguments,
Seemed stacked to say the least,
Somewhat like baking loaf of bread,
With no ingredients, except some yeast.

You just might get it started rising,
With a pinch of money flour,
But, demand for more not too surprising,
As they moan and groan outside the door.

Palestine, the Welfare country,
Without borders, or true identity,
Earned by lie and bribe, affrontery,
Must have corruption propensity.

In a way, their action makes me sad,
With this 'Great Victory' they think they've won,
What they want to do, makes God mad,
The 'Victory,' invokes the Wrath of the Son.

Fearing not, they demand, 'divide the land,'
Stand back, those who know they do err,
The Wrath, of the Son, crushes marauding band,
And the few survivors won't return to Ur.

The list, goes on and on, the destruction,
Damascus, ash heaped upon more ash,
That city gone, no more construction,
Possibly, Islam, gone in moment flash.

Perhaps, I'm off, a rung or two,
God's ladder is kind-of tall,
Read the Bible, the story is true,
Kingdom, on other side of Seven year wall.

AMEN

Living next door to a friend,
Is, at best, difficult, for most,
But, against Jihad, must defend,
Life has nothing, on which to Boast.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50606/

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Good Morning God 120112
By Arley Steinhour

Dear Father God,
I raise my arms, in Praise to you,
With heart and mind in prayer,
In thanks, to you, for Blessings True,
Ever-knowing, that You are there.

My heart is filled with questions,
The answers held within your word,
Beyond surface reading, hesitations,
When finding answers, never heard.

Oracles, sculpted in Hebrew culture,
Before, jot and Tittle on written page,
End Times, haunt, like soaring vulture,
Perfect Justice, the mortal wage.

The 'Gentile Days,' are closing,
Then, Tribulation, no less than fact,
Seven years of Sin-filled life, exposing,
'Mark' accepted, 'no turning back.'

Christians crying from wilderness,
Alley, Corner, roof-top, anywhere,
Invokes the 'Lost,' please confess,
Blessings, or Torment in flame, compare.

Like lemmings, people follow sin,
Rejecting the Love, You offer,
It looks as if You, dear God, can't win,
With so many an Atheist Scoffer.

You warned us of frustration,
You warned us of social pain,
You explained they'd deny creation,
And, of the Hatred, in their disdain.

Still, you want our services, to man,
Still, you call us to the mortal wall,
We Keep the Watch, best as we can,
Until, we hear Bridegroom's Trumpet call.

Thank you Father, I'm better now,
Each time I pray, you lend an ear,
You know the end, from start, somehow,
When you come, expect Great Cheer.

AMEN

Waking up with broken heart,
Could ruin prospect of great day,
A time of prayer, at the start,
Brightens the Son, in the Sun, His way.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50612/

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Path to Health
By Arley Steinhour 120212

The beauty and scent, of the Rose Petal,
Softly held, within china cup,
Sings a song, soft, not metal,
Through, sight, and smell, we freely sup.

Placed at center of the table,
Upon fine linen, sets the scene,
All, joining hearts, are then able,
To feel the beauty of what they're seeing.

The world is full of hate and stealth,
But, one delicate cup, from off a shelf,
Filled with beauty, and fragrant wealth,
Returns a wounded heart, back to love, to health.

AMEN

Where does one beauty end,
Where does another then begin,
What you see can never mend,
Unless we end, Destroying Sin.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50619/

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Season Reason
By Arley Steinhour 120212

The reason for the Season,
Is that all men get Along,
Being friendly without Reason,
Pause together, Sing a Song.

Perhaps, there is a better way,
To stop all War, and Strife,
Being friendly, Good things, say,
Especially, to your Wife.

The reason for the Season,
That will last Eternally,
We call, Jesus, for some reason,
Emanuel, most certainly.

Delivered of a Virgin girl,
Engaged to be a Bride,
God decided her a worthy Perl,
Perfect Mother, Certified.

The people of that day did frown,
They knew she'd played around,
Bridegroom, Joseph was a clown,
Not throwing rock, that did abound.

Gabriel took Joseph aside,
Joseph's eyes were opened wide,
No more, his wife would need to hide,
His bride, God's Bride, Fully Certified.

It seems, the Reason for the Season,
That brought God, to walk with man,
To pay the Sin-price, primary Reason,
Purchase Bride, Pull man from Satan's Pan.

AMEN

The Reason for the Season,
Was worth the risk, Mary had taken,
Adultery called for Death by Stone,
In that Birth, the Earth was Shaken.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50624/

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Stranger Mumbles
By Arley Steinhour 120312

In Five B. C., or was it Three,
A Newborn boy, lay in a manger,
In Swaddling cloth, and straw he be,
God's gift, to save many-a-Sinful-stranger.

His mother, though married, still virgin,
her carpenter husband, would 'set her aside,'
Till a Night Vision, addressed adultery chagrin,
Later children be theirs, certified.

The call for a Census, caused them feel anxious,
Almost term-fulfillment, they'd go to be counted,
'Bethlehem, Son of David,' Joseph to pay Taxes,
But, the timing was bad, and travail countermanded.

The village was small, with no rooms in a home,
But, clean stall in barn, Baby-bed in the manger,
The best they could do, with child soon to be born,
King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Born just like a stranger.

Why, might I wonder, King born, not come fighting,
Making everyone wait, while he grew up having fun,
Some knew he was somewhere, nails they were biting,
Decades went by, with not Roman's on the run.

'About' Thirty years, when Jesus stepped into water,
To an unkempt man, wearing leather, and Baptizing,
John, looked up from dunking, saw Jesus not falter,
That John wanted Jesus' Baptism, not too surprising.

'No,' Jesus said, 'Let things be as thing need to be,
He only had three years, before being hung on a tree.'
Lord, I come, not to praise all the things I can see,
But to praise you were Born, Lived, Died, Resurrected,
For this Sinful Stranger, me.

AMEN
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50636/
Tis the Season, this scene we'll see,
In window, yard, most everywhere,
Love fills hearts, so set it free,
Let the world, and God, know that we care:
Merry Christmas, Our King is Near

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Travail Time
By Arley Steinhour 120612

I wonder how you do it,
I cannot comprehend,
The best I do is see a bit,
Before sanity I need defend.

The world is going crazy,
Taking places on the stage,
Acting like we're lazy,
But with hearts, so full of rage.

The Shiite hates the Sunni,
The Sunni hates the Kurd,
Loving only when on the knee,
Total HATRED, when Jew's the word.

Coca Cola has lost its slogan,
Couldn't teach the world a thing,
Syria's making Nerve gas plan,
Jewish Souls, will soon take wing.

Syrian rebels at Assad's front door,
NATO forces locking down the rear,
Release of poison gas, and more,
Every nation holds breath, in fear.

Russia, China, arming, mighty hoards,
To keep power growth on-line,
Can't find truth through 'water-boards,'
Nervous sweat burns eyes, like brine.

Cast your covering over all in anticipation,
Of Travailish Times, completion soon at Term,
Usher in, 'Time of Great Tribulation,'
As your Holy Prophecy's confirm.

We pray the Bridegroom soon comes our way,
To Snatch His Bride, away from Judgment pain,
As Satan has last Seven years of sway,
While we Feast, Bride's Consummation day,

AMEN

Home Plate, should be where Trumpet Sounds,
For all the world to see and hear,
As Bridegroom starts His earthly rounds,
Collecting Bride, both far, and near.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50695/

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HISTORY LOST
By Arley Steinhour 120812

Dear Father God, I come to you,
With my frequent deep concern,
The world is changing, sour, too,
In ways, too easy to discern.

There was a time, not long ago
Where a parent raised a child,
With guidance and instruction flow,
To be responsible, not wild.

Parents praised, and raised their child,
For God, and Country, everlasting Love;
Caring tenderly, for Meek, and Mild,
Right and Wrong, dictated from Above.

Hard-working parent saved a dollar,
For Retirement, and 'Rainy day,'
Without Entitlements, walked much Taller,
Children followed parent's financial way.

Dad worked many long hard hours,
Six days, times Ten, the count,
Mom enhanced each pennies powers,
Value not less than spent amount.

Today, it seems, the choices change,
Their children grew in a different way,
More bucks, less hours, lifestyles strange,
The parents debts, they now must pay.

The young, no longer have solid ground,
To place their love, of anything on,
Safe life-harbor, no longer found,
Ever-less and less, depend upon.

Fathers, today, think only of 'Toys,'
Mothers, no longer care for the 'Nest,'
Children, don't care if they're Girls or Boys,
Two percent are 'Debt-Free,' at Best.

Insanity has taken true logic away,
With 'I or Me' in each 'Texted' word,
'Make the Rich folk pay, for how I play,'
'Responsibility,' the 'four-letter-word.'

I could ramble on for a long time,
But, You already know the score,
How long do you tolerate life out of rhyme,
Before pronouncing Hell on Earth, and more?

Your Will, to your Glory, being Done,
No matter what we do, or say,
Many Souls refuse Repenting to the Son,
'Eternal,' Pay, or Play, on Judgment Day.

AMEN

We, ALL, bend the knees, before the Throne,
For replay of what we've thought, said, and done,
ETERNALLY, Together LIVE, or BURN Alone,
With, or without, GOD, our Only-ONE.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50721/

[navyblue]

Everbearing Christmas
By Arley Steinhour 120812

May the Blessing of God's Spirit,
Through the Christmas story, of His Son,
Be sounded, where people can hear it,
As we Praise Him, THE ONLY ONE.

Merry Christmas, World, to one and all,
Each year of days, Three-Sixty-Five,
'His Days, Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall,'
Through Repentance, finds more ALIVE.

Sing Jesus Praises, Merrily,
Unto Mortal Graduation,
To Be with Jesus, eternally Free,
In New Jerusalem, His Mighty Station.

With Mansion, more than heart can ask,
Glory abounding Tame and Free,
Shekinah lighting every step and task,
Praise sings, from each flower and tree.

Different Praises ringing, as if but only one,
In a harmony of sight, touch, and sound,
Wafting over and through body, as joyous fun,
Emotions, no mortals felt, or in-which drowned.

To have what I ineptly-describe,
Through Repentance, you find the Son,
'Religions,' offer, at best, diatribe,
Walk with Jesus, on His Path, Only-ONE.

AMEN

Nothing on earth can ever compare,
To what God has in store for His Justified,
Praising, Dancing, like Fred Astaire,
Indescribably Perfect, Certified.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50723/

[navyblue]

Blessing Blessing
By Arley Steinhour 120912

With a lightness in our step, today,
We sing, and whistle as we walk,
Praising you, in our awkward way,
As, to you, our hearts do talk.

This weekend, full of you, dear LORD,
Sabbath, Chanukah, and LORD's Day,
Preparing for You, 'mouthing the sword,'
Bless'ed are You, Oh LORD, we say.

Your Prophecies, a Blessing,
To some, Spiritual poke in eye,
Keeping the Watch, you're addressing,
Watching Clouds, up in the sky.

Events of today, show Prophetic sway,
Insanity, blends well with Hate,
At, killing and dying, many people play,
So their god's love won't dissipate.

May our life, in You, show all You do,
Saving the world, from Satan's path;
Redemption is Paid, Execution Stayed too,
From when You must use Your Wrath.

So much, Dear God, to Sing and Praise,
Heart filled, to the Brim, with water,
Changed to Spirit-Wine, for Eternal days,
For all your Sons, and Daughters.

AMEN

Seven Days, we dance and sing,
Celebrating the Wedding Feast,
Hearts, and Souls, soon take wing,
Every heart, that's purged of Yeast.
Archive & Pic. at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50727/

[navyblue]

Birthday Party Reminder

Dear loved ones,
As you well know, we are getting closer to my birthday. Every year there is a celebration in my honor and I think that this year the celebration will be repeated. During this time there are many people shopping for gifts, there are many radio announcements, TV commercials, and in every part of the world everyone is talking that my birthday is getting closer and closer.
It is really very nice to know, that at least once a year, some people think of me. As you know, the celebration of my birthday began many years ago. At first people seemed to understand and be thankful of all that I did for them, but in these times, no one seems to know the reason for the celebration. Family and friends get together and have a lot of fun, but they don't know the meaning of the celebration.
Remember that last year there was a great feast in my honor. The dinner table was full of delicious foods, pastries, fruits, assorted nuts and chocolates. The decorations were exquisite and there were many, many beautifully wrapped gifts. But, do you want to know something? I wasn't invited. I was the guest of honor and they didn't remember to send me an invitation. The party was for me, but when that great day came, I was left outside, they closed the door in my face .... and I wanted to be with them and share their table.
In truth, that didn't surprise me because in the last few years all close their doors to me. Since I wasn't invited, I decided to enter the party without making any noise. I went in and stood in a corner. They were all drinking; there were some who were drunk and telling jokes and laughing at everything. They were having a grand time. To top it all, this big fat man all dressed in red wearing a long white beard entered the room yelling Ho-Ho-Ho! He seemed drunk. He sat on the sofa and all the children ran to him, saying: "Santa Claus, Santa Claus" .. as if the party were in his honor!
At 12 Midnight all the people began to hug each other; I extended my arms waiting for someone to hug me and ... do you know ... no one hugged me. Suddenly they all began to share gifts. They opened them one by one with great expectation. When all had been opened, I looked to see if, maybe, there was one for me.
What would you feel if on your birthday everybody shared gifts and you did not get one? I then understood that I was unwanted at that party and quietly left.
Every year it gets worse. People only remember to eat and drink, the gifts, the parties and nobody remembers me. I would like this Christmas that you allow me to enter into your life. I would like that you recognize the fact that almost two thousand years ago I came to this world to give my life for you, on the cross, to save you. Today, I only want that you believe this with all your heart.
I want to share something with you. As many didn't invite me to their party, I will have my own celebration, a grandiose party that no one has ever imagined, a spectacular party.
I'm still making the final arrangements. Today I am sending out many invitations and there is an invitation for you. I want to know if you wish to attend and I will make a reservation for you and write your name with golden letters in my great guest book. Only those on the guest list will be invited to the party. Those who don't answer the invite, will be left outside.
Be prepared because when all is ready you will be part of my great party.
See you soon.
I Love you!
Jesus
P.S. Please share this message with your loved ones, before Christmas

Two parties offered for Christmas Eve,
For the Saved, and for the Lost,
Both promise reward, but one deceives,
When choosing, consider the Lost Cost.

I've shared, best I can, this letter,
Now, it's your turn, to do it better,
I hope and pray the world will hear,
And this Birthday party, is perfect this year.

Witness, Jesus, to any Party-Pooper you find.
Archive and Pic at: www.mccookgazette.com/blogs/1580/entry/50737/