At the end of winter daylight
when lemon passion glows
with the ardor of periwinkle,
at unexpected moments
I remember
a melody long forgotten,
jubilant as a nightingale’s song,
that led my fledgling
heart to soar
towards the blazing stars
once upon the sands of time —
Now, when it matters no more,
I recall the scribbled ink upon the paper,
a voice that called my name,
at twilight’s edge
when my heart beholds the colors,
the warm farewell
of the setting sun.
D. G. Vachal © 2014
There are times in life when a person, though mentally fit, experiences a nameless unhappiness in the soul. It is the same condition reflected in the Psalmist’s lament, “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?” 1 This affliction touches many, including Christians, and it is a state that leads to spiritual depression.
One of the causes of spiritual depression is fear of the future. This was a peculiar problem of one young man in the New Testament named Timothy. He was dependent on the Apostle Paul, and fears arose with the impending perils that his mentor was facing. Alongside was a fear of failure in the seemingly daunting tasks that lay ahead of him while Paul was in prison.
Paul addressed Timothy’s fear with a two-step approach: a reprimand and a reminder. “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” 2 Timothy 1:7
Paul reprimands Timothy for being gripped by the spirit of fear: a spirit which does not come from God. If we suffer from this manifestation of spiritual depression, it is due to our inability as Christians to realize what God has given us and is giving us — the gift of the Holy Spirit. It is being negligent to stir up ourselves, to think, to take ourselves in hand.
What then, has God given us? First in the list is the spirit of power. Victorious, miraculous power in living the Christian life, in battling with temptation and sin, “a power to go on whatever the conditions, whatever the circumstances, power to hold on and to hold out”. 2
Next, Paul mentions the spirit of love. One of the root causes of the problem is that fearful people are too involved in self. The way to rid of self is to be so absorbed in someone or something else, leaving no room for thinking about oneself. The spirit of love.
Lastly, God has given us the spirit of a sound mind. In spite of our natural weaknesses, God has given us, for us to appropriate, the spirit of self-control, discipline and judgment.
As Christians, we do not live on and by ourselves. Through God’s marvelous work of salvation, He has implanted within us a principle of a divine spiritual life through Jesus Christ. We need to “stir up the gift”, reminding ourselves of who we are in Christ. And casting fear aside, let us move steadily forward in life, giving glory to the One Who gave His all for us.
Reference:
D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Spiritual Depression: Its Causes and Cure, Great Britain: Pickering and Inglis, Ltd, 1977, pp. 92-105
Footnotes:
1 Psalm 45:3, ESV
2 D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Spiritual Depression: Its Causes and Cure, Great Britain: Pickering and Inglis, Ltd, 1977, p. 102
Photography Credit: Dawn Breaks by Eugene Kurenkov
Between now and oblivion
lies an archipelago
infinitesimal
as a grain of sand,
expansive as the universe
of my remembrances:
where lost loves wander
stranded,
entangled,
enslaved.
The islands are mine:
the ylang-ylang,
jasmine and hibiscus —
let the florid scents haunt
my shipwrecked loves
as taunting ghosts warble
melodies of our laughter —
let parrots recite my poetry
from parchments drenched
in perfumed
tears.
O Archipelago!
for the leaving
I cannot leave,
for the weeping
I cannot weep —
tidal waves do not
wear you down,
nor the anger
of volcanoes —
you are always there
between now and oblivion.
by D. G. Vachal © 2012
* photograph: Archipel Sulu, Phillipinen by Volker
… an edited version of the original poem written in 2012
The Times for Telling of Thy Wondrous Works
The times for telling of Thy wondrous works
are measured in mysterious cups of gold,
in ladles of the cauldron’s spicéd broth,
in teaspoons of the leaven for the bread.
There comes a daylight for the larks to sing,
a nighttime darkness for the silent sigh,
when eyes shed tears that sparkle with the stars,
awaken ‘midst the dewdrops on the grass.
Unknown to me tomorrow’s paths to take,
You guide me with Your ever loving Eye,
and step by step with laughter will I take,
I walk beneath the shadow of Thy wings.
The times for telling of Thy wondrous works
are numbered with life’s tapestry of threads,
of countries and of people I have met,
the times, I know, my times are in Thy Hand.
D. G. Vachal © 2014
*** Photography Credit: Early Morning by Assen Alekov
The days ride the chariot of the whirlwind:
tomorrow’s sun is yet to be appointed —
you hold this moment’s gold, this second’s gem.
Today is bread that feeds your hunger,
strength for constricted hands
that throb to open to those in need,
(always, there are those in need)
bestow kindness even to those unkind.
Give, give of this bread,
this bread of today,
each broken crumb of every fleeting second,
scatter with abandon to reach
the hungry mouths,
even the birds of the air,
the beasts of the field —
As you give of your daily bread,
verily you will be fed.
D. G. Vachal © 2014
lilies, sparrows and grass 