Long Deacons Poems
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The pastor's sermon was quite clear on the matter of temptation.
He held our attention - no one went to sleep in that congregation!
As usual, it was an inspiring and masterful presentation,
Leaving some folks (and me) in a state of nervous trepidation!
He talked of The Master's temptations and how them He overcame,
Telling Satan to buzz off, and stop playing his evil game.
I took this admonition to heart, vowing to do much better,
To toe the line and obey the Ten Comandments to the letter!
Alas, I faced temptation ere I even left the church.
My roving eye got me in trouble; good intentions I did besmirch.
The faithful deacons had laid on a most delectable spread,
Of scrumptious cake, cookies and tasty banana bread!
I salivated as I pondered, "Should I or should I not?"
I sensed the devil was tempting me in this nefarious plot.
Whispering, "Go ahead, have a hunk of that devil's food cake;
I'm sure the Lord and the preacher will overlook one mistake!"
I must admit, to that crafty seducer I did succumb,
Even snatching a few cookies, eating every crumb!
I later mused on this, wondering, "What would Jesus have done?"
I suspect He'd say, "Would you share some goodies with me, My son?"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
/the media
fancies
to highlight
our lowlights
for ratings
political gain
over and over again
playing clips
sound bites
out of context
heavily edited souls they are/
They promote hate and fear
They are Deacons of division
they love a riot but denounce riot gear
thrive on division of the races
getting filthy rich, steel-trapping our peace
wearing the fur of our misery/
placing poison flower clowns in our hearts
rabid hummingbirds in our minds
toss fiery darts in the last stand of bliss
of our songbird time/
never a good word about anything/
They're but flicking tongues of the devil,
sucking hearts from bloated chests
sliding under desks
for a suckle and a piss
commercial
darkness
truth and knowledge
heavily edited/
Cork The Hole!
" Luv's-A-Leakin "
What does God see, what does He think?
Where will man, his value, place?
Will it be in this physical birdhouse,
or in the crafter's smiling face?
And what if this birdhouse should become
part of your home's decor.
With It's aroma of wood, glue, or paint,
but wait, there's yet much more.
It all began as a labor of love,
conceivably crafted by future Church leaders.
Perhaps, from among them will come Missionaries,
Pastors, Deacons, or Church greeters.
Crafted by small, yet unskilled, hands,
each accomplishing a given task.
And as recipients, you were chosen,
you bargained not, nor dared you ask.
As you enjoy your priceless birdhouse
Think Vacation Bible School, 2001.
Recall adults, sharing their faith in God,
while making this undertaking fun.
While actual birds may never opt,
in your Birdhouse to abide.
You will surely need a cork,
to keep It's contents secure inside.
The Hate Machine
The tail of a bird the bone of a man;
Warm red Blood upon the sand.
A hooded figure, a Nazi Cross.
Was there ever a man who could count the cost.
Of the Hate Machine.
A starving refugee, a child in pain.
A soldier dead in the driving rain.
Man is a very mischievous elf.
He fooled around and built himself.
A Hate Machine.
Hate for your brother and hate for his creed,
Cut him and beat him and make him bleed.
Condemn him to Hell for the shade of his skin.
Forget about reason be slave to the whim.
Of the Hate Machine.
Sour old ladies on shiny oak pews.
Preachers and deacons withholding the news.
Together with children of innocent years.
They make up the screws and make up the gears.
Of the Hate Machine.
Hate the Republican, hate the Jew.
Maybe even the Democrat too.
Hate the President, the ignorant clod.
Hate your Mother and Hate your God.
That's our Machine.
A Marxist student, a burning flag.
A Coptic Christian, beaten and gagged.
Quiet citizens caught in the stream.
Together make up the Hate Machine.
It's Mankind's Child.
The tail of a bird, the bone of a man.
Warm red blood upon the sand.
Fighting and killing where will it end.
Why must we fools always depend.
On the Hate Machine.
A mother’s two daughters transformed the bookstore the other day…
let me set the scene….
They turned our bookstore into a castle…ruled over by two queens.
In an instant the battlements and a tower were erected…and here’s a fine footnote…
our door became a portcullis and outside…a drawbridge covered our moat.
The Deacon’s chair that sits in our store…the two queens let it be known…
would no longer be a Deacons’ chair as it became their throne.
They wore long and flowing robes and carried the sovereign orb…
in strict Victorian fashion
and I was happy to see the two queens not only shared the throne…
but ruled with fairness and compassion.
From my vantage point behind the counter I sent them good wishes and regards…
they were fair but they were strict but I didn’t want them summoning the guards.
Their mom asked if it was okay…
”No need to worry I said…I love to see imaginations soar.”
“Besides,” I whispered, “the queens and you the queen mother
are the only three people in the store.”
“But there is one thing you need, your majesties.”
I bowed, knelt down then said.
and, with their permission, I placed an imaginary crown on the top of each queen’s head.
They ruled over the kingdom until Mom said, “It’s time for dinner!”
at which point they hurried out the store…
and I watched as the two queens moved their castle to the restaurant next door.
I love imagination…how it can turn a bookstore into a castle…
two children into queens and one bookseller into a vassal.
As I closed up for the evening I thought back to those two queens
with their imaginations so innocent and pure…
Then I made sure the drawbridge was up…
the portcullis was locked
and their castle was secure.
**Cover-Ups**
The Cardinals will sing, but let’s confront the truth behind it all. We deceive ourselves, but a higher power knows the reality of these situations: makeup and the cover-ups. The Cardinals' song may be beautiful, yet the raven never returned, while the dove came back, never forgetting what it had seen. It whistles a tune that demands to be heard.
Does it really matter how long it takes or the tone we strike? This involves clergymen, bishops, priests, and deacons. And let’s not forget Rome, where nuns step out of the shadows and proclaim their truth to the world. I will not pretend to be saintly or holier than thou. Remember your vows and acknowledge the challenges that lie within the Roman Catholic Church.
Delegation by Design
Delegation by design, God calls the faithful to serve,
In His house with purpose, with passion and nerve.
To serve the Master is a calling so high,
With honor and joy, with hearts lifted high.
We’re not all called to every task or place,
But each is appointed by God’s perfect grace.
Deacons and deaconesses, chosen to stand,
In service and love, by His sovereign hand.
A life that is holy, no twisting, no game,
Just living for Jesus and lifting His name.
With wisdom and kindness, integrity too,
Reflecting Christ’s image in all that you do.
A role by His choosing, a sacred design,
According to Scripture, it is a divine calling.
To live to a standard both steady and true,
At home and in service—His light shining through.
A deacon, devoted, in covenant stands,
With purity guiding his heart and his plans.
The deaconess also walks each day humbly,
In Christlike reflection along the same way.
Though some may resist or not understand,
Stay faithful and steady, upheld by His hand.
For you are appointed, entrusted, aligned,
Set apart for His glory—delegated by design.
Together in unity, growing as one,
Serving with purpose till the work is done.
For Jesus, our Savior, the perfect example,
Left heaven to serve in humility’s temple.
So walk in compassion, be humble and kind,
In this sacred calling so carefully designed.
Give glory to God in all that you do,
Let Christ be the model reflected in you.
For those who serve well, a promise is given,
A crown of life waiting, a reward straight from heaven.
So be faithful to the end, let your light brightly shine—
A servant of Christ, by delegation divine.
She spoke a Tale of Her yougth abot
a man and woman who wished to marry
they sought refuse at a camp. There the
deacons and nuns feed the hungry and
performed the task of marrage. They had
traveled mere miles to be there: there
they would trade there Torquise for the
things they needed. While there they married
and honeymooned. They then would
travel back to where they were
orignally from. The trip would be by frigget
the woman feared a storm would come along
or a great sea creature would swallow them whole.
To calm there fears a man sat down with them
and ask them to help him write a song in there
honor:one he would keep as a keepsake until the time
he would travel to the same area where the
newly weds were going. They sat down a wrote these words.
At points I ponder
the roaring sea
to speak of how
I honor thee
oh God guide
these Seafearing men
when in doubt
please take there hand
guide my steps oh God jehovah
calm the shores
and raging seas
reassure our doubts
and strenghten us from fearing
what what we can't see
Thou wilted orchids
lift they voice
to repraise
thy kings and lords
might we dry by
the raging sun
to sleep at night
till: ah new day's begun
Might the billows
guide our way
for us to
speak these glorious days
the silvermoon
to light the night
the romances of lovers
clear bright nights
we should dock
on the shore
to be on land
and fear no more
The apostle Paul God's holy servant
addresses God's chosen holy people
speaking with true royal authority
looking to God from His holy steeple
God here speaks to His very own
all of those God regards as saints
draped in the shed blood of Christ
the righteous badge God has known
The people of God are His elect
chosen before the world began
in faith endowed with divine righteousness
God's blessing put on sinful man
For this sin, God sent His beloved son
to be the sacrifice our sin to atone
on the cross, Jesus paid the price
acceptable to God who accepts no clone
God's word speaks of the holy necessity
without holiness, no one shall see the Lord
every unholy being God will reject
make sure your sins are under His sword
("Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus,
To all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi, with the overseers and deacons:
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.")
Philippians 1: 1-2 (ESV)