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- White-washed
- Look at Me
- Not Without Cause
- An Assortment of Griefs
- No Reruns
- Death and Maintenance
- Death Stopped to Call
- The One-way Door
- Storms don’t Last Forever
- I do not Learn
- Lulled
- The Gratitude Cure
- Little Strength
Ask most people if and why they'll go to heaven.
They'll usually reply: "I think God will let me in because
I've tried to be a good person. My good should out-weigh the bad."
How much it wounds our pride to admit that we cannot earn our way into heaven,
that there is no "good enough"; there is only perfect. And we aren't it.
Jesus is. And that is why our ticket must be stamped by His blood.White-washed
(Matthew 23:26-28; Rev. 7:14)
Washed white?
or White-washed?
Clean within?
or full of dead man’s bones?
Splashing white paint on a black soul
won’t fool anyone for long.
How soon the white wears off;
How soon the black peeks through.
There’s no need to buy more paint.
It is not the white-washed throng
but the blood-washed
who are white enough
and bright enough
and truly clean.Lori Fiechter
6-29-02Truth sometimes hurts. If it didn’t hurt so much, we’d have no use for lies.
”We have made lies our refuge” Isaiah 28:15
Can we look God in the face or do we, like Adam, try to hide: behind a bush, behind a mask, behind a lie?Look at Me
Held my face in both his hands and cried,
"Look at me!”
I shifted, squirmed, and stared straight down.
He held his ground:
”Look at me.”
I could not look.
For if I looked at Truth, I knew
I’d see myself just as I am
not as I rather hoped I’d be.
”Look at me!”
I grew uncomfortable and resolved
to steal a fleeting glance.
I looked at Truth straight in the eye.
I flinched and chose instead the lie
that was so soft and comfortable.
I looked at Truth,
but would not see;
And so, the Truth
let go of me.Lori Fiechter
July 9, 2002I woke up thinking of the line, "You all did love him once, not without cause" (from the funeral oration for Julius Caesar by Shakespeare's Antony) and thought how it could apply to Jesus.
One much greater than Caesar.
What cause withholds you then,
not to mourn for Him (for He is alive)
but to mourn for your own dead hearts?First love is great, but He wants enduring love
--love that lasts.
Turn around and look at Him.
He is no cold, marble statue without feeling;
Those are tears in His eyes.Look at Him,
Return to Him.
You loved Him once,
not without cause.
He loves you still.
He loves you still.
July 9, 2002The cancer has returned; the great new job isn't; the relationship fell through.
The hounds of grief are always lurking. And some foxes are being run ragged.
New griefs,
and old griefs
We thought we had outrun.Do we stand to face the onslaught?
Do we cower? Do we fall?
Have we any strength at all
toThe impulse is to hide:
behind a bush or up a tree
until the griefs have passed us by,
That we might outfox the hounds of grief.Ah, but they sniff the air and turn again to rend us.
Not all of them! Not the whole pack!
The fox is weary and bedraggled;
He needs a friend and a place to sleep
Away from the
5-31-02No Reruns
is the final draft;
The dress rehearsal
is the play;
The first attempt
is the last
And there are no reruns.
at twenty;
It slowly dawns
at forty.I thought I had been
warming up
but it was race day all along.
Yes, there's the finish line.Not yet!
I'm not old.
I'm not ready to be old.
I'm not even ready
to be grown-up.
I've been sleepwalking
through life;
I never expected to wake up here.
5-31-02Pray for the Houser family; for husband Shane and his two young sons who lost their mother so suddenly.
Death stopped to call
much too early:
Unexpected, uninvited, and unwelcome.
He had no time for
exchanging pleasantries;
He just elbowed his way in and
refused to leave alone.
He made his choice
and snatched her away:
coldly, efficiently.
The sun shone before him;
Behind him was
black destruction and holes.
Everywhere, holes.Lori Fiechter
6-1-02Death and Maintenance
Yesterday was the funeral;
Today the thistles
must be sprayed,
the garden hoed,
and laundry hung out to dry.
There are meals to fix,
dishes to wash,
floors to vacuum,
and mail to carry in.
Flies to swat,
weeds to pull,
and flowers to water.
I have to get out of bed,
brush my teeth,
and get dressed.
Yesterday was the funeral.
How does the sun dare to
show its face today?
How do the roses dare to bloom?
The precious has vanished;
The mundane is ever present.Lori Fiechter
6-1-02The One-way Door
Two worlds, just a breath apart:
a breath, and a one-way door,
a door marked plainly:
”No exchanges or returns”
Some glimpse the doleful door for years
before they limp through it, slowly, painfully.
For some, the door advances and retreats
in fits and starts,
with hopes both true and false,
Until the door prevails at last
(the door always prevails)
Others are catapulted headlong
toward a door that seemed a long way off;
the bystanders are stunned
by the abruptness and unreality.
A few would choose to push past the door
of their own accord,
weary of life’s slings and arrows,
hoping for a welcome nothingness,
Flying to ills they know not of.
But, to everything a time: and not before.
Two worlds, just a breath apart.
We’ll find out soon enough
what lies beyond--
beyond our last breath
and the one-way door.Lori Fiechter
May 12, 2002Storms don’t Last Forever
Storms don’t last forever;
They only seem that way.
They capture our emotions
and drag them off to dizzying heights,
threatening to cast us down.
We’re sure we cannot survive;
We can’t think past the moment;
the only thing that we can do is to hold on.
Hold on. Hold on, just a little bit longer;
you cannot see the cloud of witnesses that are
cheering for you;
You cannot see the end from where you are,
the sun that will break through the clouds,
the end could be so close.
Hold on. He will not let you fall;
Keep holding on.Lori Fiechter
May 12, 2002This poem was inspired by a quote I read this morning by Wm. Wordsworth:
“the fear that kills And hope that is unwilling to to be fed.”
Also, I think ( from a song by Michael Card) that scandalon is Greek for stumbling stone.I do not Learn
I do not learn, I do not learn;
I live, but do not learn.
I choose the same path o’er and o’er
with pits of fears I’ve feared before
and scandalons of frequent doubts.
And though tomorrow comes again,
revealing all my foolish sin
in feeding fears and starving hopes,
Yet, the rational will ever flee
in hasty trepidation
before the untamed and untethered beast
of my imagination.
I will not learn, I will not learn:
I stumble on the self-same stones
that tripped me yesterday.
I will not—cannot—clear the path;
It is too arduous a task;
So I will slip and stumble on
and count the bruises earned.
For slow is the progress
and many, the scrapes
of those who will not learn.Lori Fiechter
April 24, 2002I've read several articles lately that have bothered me about the state of Christianity in America. There is no doubt that spirituality is in, but Biblical Christianity is increasingly seen as rigid, negative, and anachronistic. Other Western nations, once stalwarts of Christianity; have lost not only their zeal, but also their faith. Churches are empty or converted into office buildings. What happened there? How can we keep Christianity alive and vibrant here in America? People calling themselves “seekers” nowadays intend never to find what they seek. The answer is all in the seeking. Others--pastors, even--complain that Christianity is too negative. They believe in the goodness of people, and think we should feed the poor and quit talking about sin.
Lulled
The pulpits once thundered;
they now drizzle gently
And lull us with raindrops
of “feel good”, cheap grace.
We welcome all seekers
and will help them keep seeking;
it isn’t politically correct now to “find”.
People are good;
but they must get in touch with
their own inner selves,
which are giving and kind.
The black clouds are building,
The storm surges swelling,
with the tempest to warn and
the thunder to wake us.
But we’re nearly asleep now,
very nearly asleep now.
We will drown in our beds
with a smile on our faces.Lori Fiechter
March 9, 2002In the parable of the publican and the Pharisee, I like to think that both men had honest prayers: the publican was honestly repentant and the Pharisee was honestly self-righteous. Or you could say that the publican was praying honestly to God and the Pharisee was having an honest pep talk with himself. Self-righteousness doesn't justify anyone. It can't reach high enough.
Also, I realize that thinking highly of oneself is not the most insidious form of pride:
But the supercilious attitude:
"I thank Thee I am not as other men..."
(or: "We thank Thee that we
are not as other families,
other schools, other churches")
Is not gratitude.Gratitude and pride cannot co-exist;
They don't mix, not even with emulsifiers.
So check your label of contents:
Do you see both gratitude and pride?
Then cross out the pride, empty the box,
and start over.Lori Fiechter
2-19-02I read an article this week concerning the Western church’s unreadiness for facing a time of testing or persecution. I don’t disagree with the diagnosis; however, diagnosis is one thing, prescription quite another. Those who agree that the patient—the Western church—is ailing, still disagree on how to improve her condition. I was bothered by the strident tone in the article I read. The call was for “aggressive action” and “advance preparation”; however, no definition of terms or explanation was given.
I was reminded of the Lord’s word to the church at Philadelphia in Revelation 3:9. Although the King James’ version reads, “thou hast a little strength”, the “a” is not present in the original Greek. Read it without that “a” and see what a difference there is in meaning. As the Amplified puts it, “I know that you have but little power”. See also Paul’s mention of his thorn in the flesh in II Corinthians and how strength is perfected. God’s methods are always best. If a time of trial is coming upon the Western church before the Rapture, whether that be soon or late, we will never endure and overcome if we rely on our own little strength. We must depend on God’s unlimited power to keep us. One more comment: I would never pray for testing or trials. Even Paul prayed for his thorn to be removed; he never prayed for more thorns. I take my cue from I Timothy 2:1-3 and I pray for those in authority, that we might be able to live a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty. There is sufficient evil in this world without seeking it out.
Little Strength
The patient is languishing,
His lower limbs atrophied;
”Strap weights to his ankles.”
No, we should strengthen his arms.
”Give him fresh air.”
No, put him in quarantine.
A panoply of remedies ensues:
try:
a heart transplant
infusions, transfusions;
acupuncture, amputation,
non-evasive aromatherapy.
Try this new, unpronounceable,
miracle drug.
”He needs red meat for iron.”
No, you’ll clog up his arteries.
”He needs to know his body”;
No, he needs to know his enemy.
STOP!
The patient is languishing;
he is ill and he knows it.
He knows he has almost
no strength of his own.
He finally gives up and
trusts himself to the care
of the Wise Great Physician
who has always been near.
For strength perfected in weakness,
For rest in His power,
For grace all-sufficient
for each day and each hour.
The patient is ill,
but he is now in good hands.
March 9, 2002