Sun, Nov 16th - 11:42PM

Prayers of Pisgah

And Moses went up from the plains of Moab unto the mountain of Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, that [is] over against Jericho. And the LORD shewed him all the land of Gilead, unto Dan...And the LORD said unto him, This [is] the land which I sware unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, saying, I will give it unto thy seed: I have caused thee to see [it] with thine eyes, but thou shalt not go over thither.  Deut. 34:1,4

There is a hill outside of the city of Cripple Creek, here in Colorado that is called Mount Pisgah.  It is fitly named because of its situation above the broad valley which separates the mountains near Colorado Springs and the Sangre de Cristo Range to the south.  On the east end of that valley lies the city of Pueblo, and as proceeding west are Penrose, Florence and Canon City.  Cutting that valley approximately in half is the Arkansas River.  Numerous prisons are located in the valley, as well, making Fremont County, which encompasses most of the valley the most prison populated area on earth.  Much comment could be made concerning this, one of those prisons being my place of residence for about three years some time ago, but that is not my main topic here.

A number of years ago, before my incarceration there in that valley, I discovered Mt. Pisgah, and it became a place for me to go, and seek to gain a vision for my life through prayer, with the inspiring view that is there to the south.  Pisgah was a secret place for me during a period of confusion and yearning in my life while I lived many miles to the north in a suburb of Denver.  In all of the symbolism of mountains in the Old Testament, Pisgah was my holy hill, the place of the altar of my sacrifices of consecration, and petition to the God of Heaven.  Now, sadly Pisgah is forbidden to me and to all the public because of its newer ownership and some kind of leasing arrangement with the county officials for their radio antennae.  The last attempt I made to ascend it I was stopped by a woman who claimed to be some kind of deputy and strictly warned me against trespassing. 

In the past few years as events have followed their course I had fairly forgotten this great mountain that once seemed so special to me.  However, a few days ago I was instantly reminded of all of my former longing prayers on its summit when I spied her from a high drive above Canon City one Sunday evening as the sun was about to set.  I had gone down to Canon from my home in the Springs for a  sing-along that night at the church that I had made my fellowship over one year ago.  As I scanned the view of the mountains to the north, there she was like a little cone standing amongst her fellow peaks.  “Pisgah, you old friend!  O Pisgah I had nearly forgotten you and our times together in my turmoil and loneliness!  The prayers I made on thee, cannot be lost on a brazen sky.  O no!  My covenant God has heard them, and He would not let them go into eternity without gracious answers to my yearning, pilgrim soul.”

          But what about all the symbolism in that name and the likeness of that hill in Colorado to the mountain of Israel’s northeastern border?  Moses’ life ended there with the prohibition by Jehovah that kept him from all of the promises of inheritance beyond the Jordan River.  Has a similar judgment, likewise been imposed upon me, because of my serious failings in past years?  How easy it was that evening for me to despair of God’s goodness to me, the unfailing quality of His promises and faithfulness to this hitherto unfaithful man.  What turmoil has been the character my existence, especially since those sunny and hopeful days spent on Pisgah’s summit, where I dreamed the unimaginable dreams of a poor, confused and yearning soul.  O God, those dreams and prayers are kept in a bottle in your store house, waiting for the time of their fulfillment!  Don’t torment me, Lord with their remembrance, and the loss of hope for them to come to pass!  My time on this side of Jordan has been fraught with evil.  I long for peace in the land of peace!  Don’t crush my hope!  Don’t realize to me my deepest fears!  O my Saviour, pass me not with the full benefits of thy salvation!  Hold me to your bosom of comfort till I see those bright and sunny days on the other shore!

...to be continued

Tue, Aug 19th - 3:53PM

This is my business that the lord has given me.

Comment (2)

Wed, Jul 9th - 1:10AM

Blessed [are] the pure in heart: for they shall see God.  Matt. 5:8

My eyes are dry
My faith is old
My heart is hard
My prayers are cold
And I know how I ought to be
Alive to you and dead to me

But what can be done
For an old heart like mine
Soften it up
With oil and wine
The oil is you, your spirit of love
Please wash me anew
With the wine of your blood

By Keith Green

Is there such a thing as a pure heart in a human being?  Looking at my own, I have reason to question.  But my experience is not the sole criterion of truth.  The word of God is truth and my experience must be understood and interpreted by His word.

How blessed are these blesseds, because they give hope to a discouraged heart, one that, though not yet perfected has set its sights on the heavenly kingdom.  The heart set on pilgrimage is pure, and not pure at the very  same time.  It is pure in that it has been regenerated by the Spirit of the holy God and embued in its new birth with a seed of the very heart of God.  It is impure in that it has not yet, in a practical sense obtained that absolute moral perfection of motive and intention that it longs to possess.  What a strange contrast! 

I think we’ve begun to see how these pronouncements of blessedness seem to build one upon another.  “Poor in spirit” might be the entryway into the kingdom, “for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”  Next, they mourn and grieve over the natural condition they find themselves in, in light of the glory that is their destiny as they proceed onward and upward.  They are surely comforted in that mourning with a comfort no earthly parent could ever have imparted to her child.  Then comes “meekness,” that quality bestowed only upon the realization of the sinner’s need and neediness.  Can such a one who has seen the true condition of his adamic soul and found a deep contrition for it, a remorse and a fearful shame for the sin that permeates his human heart ever lift his head in pride again?  But these meek are not the passive of this world.  Rather, having been washed of their filth, they are able now to stand in the grace they have received of God.  Truly they will be the inheritors of a new earth. 

And what is it that stirs deep in them more than any earthly desire for food and natural satisfaction of any sort?  A hunger and thirst for righteousness, but not a righteousness that originates in their own hearts, one that is based on superficial observance of the law and seeks to make itself look good before others.  No!  This is the righteousness of faith imputed to the one who has faith in the finished work of Christ on the cross.  It is a legal standing before the high court of heaven, as well as a condition in which the very holy character of the holy God is imparted by measure to the soul.  It is a power to walk without offense to God or man and to abide in that holy state forever.  The promise is fulfilled in accord with the desire:  “they shall be filled” with that righteousness.

Since that righteousness is not something obtained from within the ourselves, but is bestowed from above, and born out of a meek (and humble) disposition toward the heavenly Bestower, and since it has been granted as an act of pure mercy toward the one who is not in the least wise worthy of it, mercy must emminate from this purified soul.  He is the recipient of mercy; he conveys mercy in every transaction with his fellow humans, and as a gracious result, he receives more mercy and undeserved kindness.  O how great is our Father’s love toward us whom He has adopted as His own!

Now comes the purity of heart so necessary for seeing the living God.  If we are to see Him we must be like Him. 

Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.  1Jn. 3:2

How shall we be like Him?  We will bear His moral and spiritual likeness: absolute purity of heart.  Can the One who promised these things fail to deliver them, when the pre-conditions, though not merited have been present?  How I’ve struggled with my wicked, self-deceived, self-serving, greedy, lustful heart!  How weary I am of its utter depravity, of the incurable moral “plague” I was first born with.

Behold, I was shapen in iniquity; and in sin did my mother conceive me.  Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts: and in the hidden [part] thou shalt make me to know wisdom.  Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.  Make me to hear joy and gladness; [that] the bones [which] thou hast broken may rejoice  Hide thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities.  Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.

 Ps. 51:5-10

Like the lowly publican I cannot lift my head for sight of the wickedness that dwells within me (my human heart).  Like the Psalmist I freely acknowledge both the condition of my heart, as well as the actions that have proceeded out of it.  And like David, I beg the Pure One for His purification.  O, to be like Him!  O to be free of this sinful flesh!  Without His amazing grace, every imagination of the thoughts of my heart are only evil continually.  (Gen. 6:5)

My friends, I’m back there on that grassy hillside sitting in a large crowd of familiar strangers, gazing in wonderment at this Teacher like a child looking at the clouds.  “Dear Jesus, I want thee, and everything thou hast for me!  Take me with thee, wherever thou goest, to the garden, to the cross, to thy heavenly kingdom!  Don’t forsake me, Lord!”

Mon, Jun 30th - 12:26AM

After Church

Sitting on the bank of the Arkansas river in the shade of some large cottonwood trees and reflecting on a Sunday afternoon.  The current is strong, as I face it, overflowing its willow-covered shoals on the other side. 

“How far have I come, Lord in my journey through this vale of life?  How much farther must I travel ‘til the end is in sight?”

A raft cruises by, steered by a guide and occupied by a family with two small girls who wave and say, “hi!”  As I doze for a brief moment, leaning against a tree, an elderly man comes and sits on a bench in the same grove of trees.  He becomes engrossed in a yellow-covered  book.  Later, as he introduces himself to me I learn from the rear cover of this book that it conveys a “New Age” self-realization message.  Gary is the man’s name.  His wife Jolene soon appears, having walked a little farther down the Canon City River Walk.

Gary learns from me through inquiry that I am a Christian, although his primary interest is my church affiliation, rather than the state of my soul.  “I attend a Mennonite church,” was my answer to his question.  He quipped about the good food I must be privy to in my church.  My reply was that he should seek the bread that gives eternal life.  “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.”

Gary and Jolene live in Kansas, but have a summer home here in Canon City, Colorado.  As they left me there in the shade of those trees Gary said that I might see him at one of our meals at the church.  I had told him about our monthly “carry-in” after church on the third Sunday of each month.  God has His ways of kindling a hunger and thirst for the righteousness of His Kingdom. 

          I’m alone again with the river and my Lord.  Across the stream are a house, a quonset building and a pasture with three horses in it.  It is a picture of forgotten places, though Canon City has long ceased to be forgotten.    One can, however travel back in his memory to one of the many times and obscure places in the country, somewhere where life was just life and people were just people. 

O God, Who sees the deepest motives of my frail, human heart, judge me!  Let me give account to You and not to man, who would destroy me.  Let Your word challenge my heart to scale new heights in pursuing the Kingdom!  Chasten me, that I might be safe in Thy love.  Defend me from my enemies in this life!

          Some men reflect sorrowfully from prison.  Few men reflect deeply from a place of great success in their lives.  I myself have had little of the success and much of the sorrow. 

Though it is yet the middle of the day, the sky suddenly grays and the temperature drops slightly.  I turn to my side and see the current rushing past, not waiting for anything or anyone.  The river has its way and the willows bend while the trees in the mud stand firm. 

          How have I bent to the currents of this life, of this present, evil world?  How have I capitulated to the pressures of my own needs and lusts?  Have mercy upon me, O Maker and Redeemer of my soul!  Let me live and not die in Your displeasure!

          The river doesn’t wait, but runs it’s course swiftly to the end.  So is the course of my life. 

          Gracious God, I wait for Thy Goodness all the day.  In thee is my hope of salvation!

Sun, Jan 13th - 7:53AM

The Deeps*

Lord Jesus, give me a deeper repentance, a horror of sin, a dread of its approach.  Help me chastely to flee it and jealously to resolve that my heart shall be Thine alone.

Give me a deeper trust, that I may lose myself to find myself in Thee, the ground of my rest, the spring of my being.  Give me a deeper knowledge of Thyself as saviour, master, lord and king. Give me a deeper power in private prayer, more sweetness in Thy Word, more steadfast grip on its truth.  Give me a deeper holiness in speech, thought, action, and let me not seek moral virtue apart from Thee. 

Plough deep in me, great Lord, heavenly husbandman, that my being may be a tilled field, the roots of grace spreading far and wide, until Thou alone art seen in me, Thy beauty golden like summer harvest, Thy fruitfulness as autumn plenty.

I have no master but Thee, no law but Thy will, no delight but Thyself, no wealth but that Thou givest, no good but that Thou blessest, no peace but that Thou bestowest.  I am nothing but that Thou makest me. I have nothing but that I receive from Thee.  I can be nothing but that grace adorns me.  Quarry me deep, dear Lord, and then fill me to overflowing with living water.

*I'm not sure who the author of this prayer is.