The angelic race fought a mighty fight
To glimpse the things I see-
A sovereign grace bought for a price
Has set this captive free.
“Captive” means I was a slave to sin,
The most enslaved was me,
But I’m now a slave to Jesus Christ
(Now and for eternity).
The angels must still wonder though
“What is that human really worth?”
For the price God chose to give
Just to let this sinner live
Was the most precious Life on all the earth,
His death became my birth.
Posted in Christianity, Poetry
Tagged about an actual human, christianity, Death, God, Gods sovereignity, gospel, Jesus, life, Lord, love, monday, new poem, poem, poems poetry, poet, poetry, religion & spirituality, sin, writing
Origin or sin
“Let there be something”
Said no one to nothing
But no sound was found-
There were no words to be heard,
Or ears to hear
Or speaking lips
Or a medium which
Sound could exist.
Not a thing,
But then it exploded.
A likely story
That although boring
Helps us sleep at night.
And arranged themselves in order.
Primal chaos reigned
And then became
But I confess
That it’s insane for me
To just believe
A theory as fact-
The big bang of the gaps
Doesn’t tell me crap.
Posted in Apologetics, Christianity, Poetry
Tagged apologetics, atheism, big bang, christianity, conspiracy, creation, darkness, God, Gods sovereignity, Jesus, lies, life, Lord, monday, new poem, nick flight, nickflight, night, nonsense, philosophy, poem, poems poetry, poet, poetry, reflection, religion & spirituality, romanov poetry poem, sin, universe, writing
Communist paint sniffers
Through my black mirror
The doll-faced little zombies
Sang words of adoration
In drugged, monotone grunts and groans of death.
The pasty brittle faces giving hazy little praises
To the God who permitted debt,
Sickness and pestilence.
But their little is big through my black mirror.
They have no home, no gifts, or hope that I can see
As they stand and sing and smile and freeze.
They have no black mirror, no food or drink
Or clothes, family or time to think.
These tiny little zombies smile
As they pray to a God who seems to take a while!
But He gave them what they have (this Lord of hosts),
Not much but they have more than most.
I look into my black mirror and don’t like these kids I see,
Should I help them be set up? Could God actually use me?
But I need to be distracted
And my mirror has apps for that,
so I click away
I guess I’m the zombie now.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged about an actual human, about the weather, apocalypse, charity, christianity, communism, darkness, Death, family, generousity, God, Gods sovereignity, iphone, Jesus, life, Lord, love, mercy, monday, nickflight, orphans, poem, poetry, poverty, reflection, religion & spirituality, smart phone, technology, thoughts, true religion, writing
Alive to dead to having life
Then ummmed and ahhhed,
I couldn’t find a way to start,
I didn’t have the words to say
But like a child asked something anyway-
“How do I remember this moment?
Lord, how do I own it?
Good sir, I want to know it-
How do I make life a friend, not an opponent?”
“My little child-
Death to pride,
Death to lies,
And death to self!
This moment’s ripples will be felt
Through all the generations-
Beyond all imagination
But you have to die first (death to self).
This moment’s offspring will be plentiful
But first you have to die.
A child must die to silly things
And rise to the changes happening,
Then a bachelor dies on his wedding night,
To become a husband to his wife.
Then as a husband put himself away
And serve his queen both night and day.
Each and every sacrifice
Is a rite of passage ordained by Christ.
And that is how to love your life
To give up your ‘needs’, your ‘wants’ and ‘rights’”
I wanted to cry,
My Lord said I had to die?
I wanted to argue, crow and fight
But of course I could see my Lord was right
And besides, He had died the first death for me
When His naked Son lay on that tree.
He has obliterated my debt,
He has died that first death.
He has taken me into Him, now I am blessed!
He has laid my arguments to rest.
And may they rest in pieces on the floor,
May this moment last forever more.
From boy to man to child,
From alive to dead to having life.
From the lowest lows to highest heights.
From dying to self to living for Christ.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged Christian Church, christianity, Death, God, gospel, Jesus, lies, life, Lord, love, monday, new poem, nick flight, nickflight, night, nightshift, poem, poems poetry, poet, poetry, religion & spirituality, sin, thoughts, writing