Saturday, March 29, 2008

Grief and History Monument
Washington, DC









I think Hollywood has done a great disservice in the way "prophets" are portrayed in general. The visual image we have is of Charlton Heston sternly demanding that Egypt let God's people go. We seldom ever see nor suspect that Yahweh's prophets were usually broken hearted and filled with crushing anxiety.

Jeremiah confessed that his eyes ran rivers of tears. Isaiah, seeing the coming judgment in chapter six, wailed, "Lord...how long!" Moses reminded Yahweh that judgment would be a blight on the reputation of his name. John, upon seeing the Revelation of Jesus and the coming judgment, fell at Christ's feet as though dead.

Jesus cried over Jerusalem, "Jerusalem, Jerusalem...how I would have gathered you..."

Jonah was SOUNDLY REBUKED by Yahweh for having the desire to see damning judgment fall on Nineveh, and Nineveh had grievously hurt Israel for hundreds of years. Abraham plead with Yahweh over Sodom. Elijah, after complaining to Yahweh that he alone was left faithful...was rebuked, replaced immediately by Elisha, then carried off in a flame of fire. Habakkuk dared even to challenge Yahweh's judgment on his people.

Jesus died to prevent Yahweh's judgment falling on people. Jesus, the great prophet, died for the sins of people instead of announcing with satisfaction that people were getting...and going to get...their dues.

Isaiah, the prince of prophets,
"Come now, let us reason together, says the LORD: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool." (ESV)

XtnYoda Shalomed

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Wednesday, March 26, 2008





Gal 4:5 To redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons.

Redemption.

Very misunderstood by many these days. Most get the part about being "bought back" but many miss who it is that is being paid, who the debt service is owed to.

Some have the remarkable understanding that it is was somehow the devil that YahShua purchased us from, that redemption was purchasing us from the grasps of the devil.

This is not so.

Redemption was the act of purchasing us from the wrath of Yahweh.


Heb 9:11 But Christ being come an high priest of good things to come, by a greater and more perfect tabernacle, not made with hands, that is to say, not of this building;
12 Neither by the blood of goats and calves, but by his own blood he entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us.
13 For if the blood of bulls and of goats, and the ashes of an heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh:
14 How much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?


YahShua carried his blood to the throne room of Yahweh and purchased our redemption from Yahweh. It was from the wrath of God that we have been purchased. YahShua died to redeem us from the wrath of God alone...the devil was owed not a thing.

YahShua died to appease an angry Father.

XtnYoda Shalomed

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Friday, March 14, 2008





painting by Hans Holbein the Younger

Still Lies The Night

Mourn deeply dredged tomb,
Bored tenderly against scruffy hill.
Silent as a trembling soul...
Listening for the slightest sound...
Breathless...in fearful anticipation.

I see you there.

Tattered and torn.
Flesh from bone.
Jumbled mass of...
grief.

I saw you there.

Desperate,
Heaving,
Weeping.
Oh my...that cry...
"Forsaken!"

I watched that last wretched tear
Tumble over flesh
Now crusted like burned ash.
I had to let it fall
Like a drifting leaf in the fury.

I had to let you go.

In your terror
I was relieved
You could not see...
my heart.
Destitute as parched desert,
Barren as baked sand,
Frothing with pure rage
Like fomented waters
Cascading through dying souls
In a mindless storm...

Then...my heart...
stopped.

It was finished.

The rage...is dead.

I am still.
I am healed.
Still lies the night.

I will kiss the wounds,
Like a dog consoling her wounded master.
My lips quiver against your broken lips.

My hands tremble over the shattered carcass,
Like a paralyzed hand
Trembling
Reaching,
Grasping.

I kiss each wound
And treasure each bruise.

Rest now my child.
I am healed.
I am whole.
Tomorrows light...
Will sizzle.

I am still.
Your seat waits you.


For passover friends.

xtnyoda shalomed

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Monday, March 03, 2008

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