Logos Divine

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swordword

Within your home you have a key
To wealth and riches deep. 
Yet count we not, its value low
Cut-rate, substandard, cheap?


For worth indeed is never priced
The display to impart.
But only by the treasure held
Within our inner heart.


On special days, we mention of
Religion and such things.
But distant, vague, and far from mind
Is He, our King of kings.


His Word a Light unto our path
To guide us to His feet.
And yet, alas, we pack our time 
Instead of with Him meet.


His Presence near is rarely found
Within a Facebook post,
Or pastor’s words, or media,
Or television’s hosts.


We wonder why the truth we hear
Does nothing to relieve
The gnawing fright, the worried dread,
The dismay we conceive.


For these, with interruptive noise,
Can ne’er His calm replace.
Our healing comes with quiet rest 
And waiting on His grace.


The written Word, the Living Word,
Together they unite
To smelt away our fears, our qualms
And Hope inside ignite.


If speak we thus, “His Word is true!”
Shall not Him well we know?
That inner Word and outer Word
May meet and cause a glow


To burn the dross of selfish thoughts,
With brilliance of His worth.
Our limelight craving “I” and “me”
Bows lowly in its dearth.


The written Word within our laps
Doest open to our soul
The pow’r of our inheritance —
His Life-seed to unfold.


This simple act, to draw apart,
And shut away the din
Increases faith and hushes still
Flesh urging us to sin.


His Name: The Word. The Word: Our life.
We cannot thus neglect.
This daily wine, this banquet feast
With view to Him connect.


Implanted Word, You live within
Your spirit now resides
Within me deep, so grant me this
Love for Your Word abide.


Please open eyes, Logos divine,
O cleanse and sanctify.
Our understanding motivate.
Seed, grow and multiply!


Perform Your work as we believe
Upon Your Truth divine.
May we regard Your Living Word
Our help and true plumb line.


Oh, help us Lord to set our minds,
Distractions are not few.
Attention’s battle now is fierce
This devil’s war — not new.


So fit us now with armor strong,
The combat we confess.
O give us now Your belt of truth, 
And plate of righteousness.


As on we march, please size our feet
With peace upon our tread.
Praise for faith’s shield. Salvation’s too —
The helmet on our head.


Now dressed as ready warriors,
Just one more thing we need.
Not purebred, stamping stallion
Or mighty rushing steed.


We beg Your Word upon our belt —
Your sword of Logos steel.
That daily we will sharpen iron
Despite emotion’s feel.


If right now in this skirmish, Lord
We practice not this thrust,
Of Spirit’s sword in breezes fair
We’ll not survive the gusts.


Rekindle now within in us, God,
The diligence to see
The value of Your Living Word
Now written here for me.
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