One day up in heaven
in the presence of the Lord
our praises onto Him . . .
will be bountifully poured.

We will sing our alleluia’s,
our hallelujahs too
we will all be in sync
as if we were right on cue.

One day there will be,
a glorious wedding feast
a victorious celebration
over the death of the beast.

The outpouring of praise,
will be thunderous . . .
nothing we have ever heard
will be as wondrous.

One day in heaven,
we will sing our alleluia’s
and throughout eternity
they’ll echo our hallelujahs!

~~~~~~~~

Revelation 19:5-7

And a voice came out of the throne,
saying, Praise our God, all ye his servants,
and ye that fear him, both small and great.

And I heard as it were the voice of a great
multitude, and as the voice of many waters,
and as the voice of mighty thunderings,

Lenny the Leprechaun was down on his luck. He was beaten up by thieves who stole his pot of gold from him. His green suit was dirty. His green hat was crushed. His black shoes were scuffed. He was walking down the road, and he saw Phoebe the Fairy sitting on a bench crying. He walked closer and saw her dirty green dress, and her leg and bare feet were covered in dirty with dirt between her toes. He stepped closer, and he noticed one of her wings were broken.

“What happened to you?” He was worried.

“What happened to you?” She peeked at him.

“I was beaten up by thieves. My pot of gold was stolen from me.”

“I was flying around, and I was hit by a passing jet. I fell hard into a pile of mud, and I broke my wing.”

Late afternoons I sit at the counter of a small diner sipping vanilla coke watching the day turn to night or dollar green. I’m hot and tired and mostly luckless, angry too, my new love fading so soon.
I dream myself into a hot soapy bath in a fancy claw-foot tub, sinking into lilac scented bubbles, eyes closed, the hot water washes away the street life.
These days I’m what one might call self-employed.
Settling for a motel shower, I scrub my body that smells of dusty magnolia with rose scented oil until it gleams like alabaster. Stepping into a black sheath, slipping on silver seamed stockings and stiletto heels I make my way back onto Bourbon Street. At the corner the mellow sounds of a sax carries through the open door of a dimly lit bar, drifts up the alley over the faded roof of a smoky café. Losing…

I’m pressing on,
till these problems are gone
I’m moving forward
with my eyes looking upward.

I’m trusting God,
and the guidance of His rod
I’m letting go
knowing the way He will show.

I’m going easy,
not getting faint or queasy
I’m letting God’s peace
all my fears oil and grease.

I’m believing in His leading,
and I’m practicing my heeding
I’m doing my best
and letting God do the rest.

I’m pressing on,
till these problems are gone
I’m pressing towards the goal
with all my heart and soul!

~~~~~~~~

Philippians 3:12

“Not as though I had already attained,
either were already perfect:
but I follow after, if that I may apprehend
that for which also I am apprehended
of Christ Jesus.”

King James Version
Public Domain

Copyright 2013 Revised 2023
Deborah Ann Belka

~ to GOD be the GLORY ~

Soon the Lord will be coming,
at any time He could appear
and with Him those who believe
in the clouds will disappear.

Until such time we hear,
the trump that will sound
His return for us . . .
we must hold our ground.

For this world is becoming,
more and more of a place
where it’s harder for us
to stay in the faithful race.

For all around the globe,
no matter where you go . . .
being a Christian today
irks and irritates others so.

Soon the Lord will come,
in the clouds He will appear
so until then good works . . .
we still need to do while here!

~~~~~~~~

1 Thessalonians 4:17

Then we which are alive
and remain shall be caught
up together with them in
the clouds, to meet the Lord
in the air: and so shall we
ever be with…

Called out of the darkness,
into His light marvelous
called into a new life . . .
holy and wondrous.

Called to be a witness,
wherever we might go
called to follow whenever
the Holy Spirit shows.

Called out of the world,
but, in it all the same
called to flee wickedness
for the sake of His name.

Called to not be fearful,
nor to be afraid
called to be peculiar
so not to be dismayed.

Chosen by God Himself,
to be for Him ~ His light . . .
chosen to put on His armor
and fight the faithful fight!

~~~~~~~~

1 Peter 2:9

But ye are a chosen generation,
a royal priesthood, an holy nation,
a peculiar people; that ye should
shew forth the praises of him who
hath called you out of darkness
into his marvellous light;

King James Version
Public Domain

Copyright 2023
Deborah Ann Belka