(His) tory
Crumbled
and Crinkled,
Thrown
far from home,
Wrinkled
and Wrung Out,
Removed,
From an
Element,
All My
Own.
Comfort,
Over-rated,
Peace,
Understated,
Told to
have Courage,
Let go
of All Fear,
To Love
and Protect,
All I
Hold Dear.
But
Courage is more,
So much
More,
Than
Strength and Bravado;
It is
Realizing,
The
truth of His power,
And the
power of His love,
Which
Overcomes,
The
spirit of fear,
It is
His Spirit,
That Guides
You,
Making
Life worth Living,
And
calling Him near.
While
fear,
Unholy,
Imprisons
and Grounds;
It is once
you have journeyed,
In
Grace,
In
Spirit,
And In
Truth,
That His
Wisdom,
Confounds,
His
Life,
Renews.
The
Elderly,
Return,
To
Their Glory,
Of
Youth.
Restored,
Rejoined,
To Soaring Heights
Now all
Realize,
Fear,
Has
Lost its Sight.
To open
one’s Pages,
For
Your Place,
In (His)
tory.
To
embrace,
His
Most Generous,
Gesture,
Of
Love,
To
Purify,
And
Bring glory,
Engaged
and United,
In Most
Holy of Matrimonies.
Pre-nup,
Uncontested,
Joint-Heir,
Most
Invested.
Heaven’s
Gates,
Have
Been Opened,
The
Steeds are Prepared,
The
Army is marching,
Stand
far from Their Glare.
Their
coming to gather,
All
Far,
And all
near,
His
Chosen and Grafted,
Each
one He holds dear,
To bring
them all Home.
Their
Father awaits them,
His
Best Table is Set,
In the
Midst of their Foes,
The
Call has been met,
The
Celebration is ready to go.
As we gather
and eat,
Let us
raise our glass,
To
Jesus our King,
Don’t
let this moment pass,
Not
from me,
Dear
Jesus,
Let Me
Recline,
Beside you
at the table,
To Listen
and Dine.
Always
and Forever,
“Praise
to the King,”
You can
hear the worship,
As
Eternity Sings.
Crinkled
and Crumbled,
Wrinkled
Made Straight,
I open
my pages,
Not
long to wait,
For the
Master Scribner,
To fill
completely,
Each
Line.
My
story,
(His)
tory,
Now
Intertwine.
The
Ending,
I will
Not Give You,
Though
Its Finish,
You
Know.
For you
are the Next Chapter,
In this
novel still writing,
This
story foretold,
So many
more chapters,
Yet to
be written,
Bound
together,
With
Trinity’s thread.
Our
Author,
Our
Finisher,
Our
Beginning,
And
End.
I look
forward to reading,
Each,
And
Everyone,
As we
share story time,
With
Heaven’s Own Son.
As they
did long ago,
On that
beautiful Mount,
A story
of truth,
From
Truth Himself.
So as
we gather,
Our
focus now fixed,
On the
teller of Truth,
This
author of Life,
Let’s
listen,
And
embrace,
His
creative remix,
Of our
stories all submitted,
Told as
though for the very first time,
And
follow along,
Line by
glorious line.
We will
sit,
And we
will hear,
As He
weaves,
As He
tells,
For all
will be silent,
Even
those bound in hell.
Heaven
now rejoices,
In this
harmony created,
As with
angels we raise our voices,
Completely
elated.
For
time and eternity,
Exist
only in Him,
As this
novel unfolds,
No
light will go dim,
But
shine bright as the sun,
Forever
burning,
As the
story begins,
Each
heart is yearning,
For
phrases in red,
Bound
up in gold,
All has
been opened,
As
Prophets foretold.
Jesus...
“Shh,
He speaks...”
Every
ear now inclines,
As His sweet
melody penetrates,
Deep,
His
anointing generates,
As
Words begin to leap,
Rising
off of every page,
Moving
and Living,
As
though on a stage,
His
voice ever so animating,
Flowing
as though in rhyme,
Ever so
soothing,
As we
settle in,
Ready
and anticipating,
At the
feet of the Master,
Line by
glorious line.
Written
By: Marlena H. Johnston, ©2012
