A Cry In The Wilderness
By Frederick Blanchard
Deep inside the mysterious and forbidden forest,
Where questioning thoughts of the heart dare not go,
For inside, are shadows of wild imaginations,
Inhibiting life with fear, not allowing it to flourish or grow.
A northern breeze sends a chill down the spine,
Carrying the sense of danger in its subtle moan,
Of a predator somewhere, that’s watching and waiting,
Fear grips the anxious heart of this, the unknown.
The wrinkled brow and the groping for emptiness,
Crumbles the faithless state of the lost soul,
For their hope is in mere provisions that turn to dust,
The humanistic drilled well, is just a barren hole.
Here we are stuck in finite time and space. We stumble around at best for our eye sight is on the physical and not spiritual. Lacking any real and lasting purpose our longing is never fulfilled. Then out of compassion, the Father of creation came to earth and pieced together our broken vessels, filling them with His holy spirit. Through the Lord, our purpose is found and our longing truly fulfilled. Amen
‘For the Son of man is come to save that which was lost. How think ye? if a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and goeth into the mountains, and seeketh that which is gone astray? 13 And if so be that he find it, verily I say unto you, he rejoiceth more of that sheep, than of the ninety and nine which went not astray. Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish.’