It is Good to Praise the Lord!

Image credit: 123rf.com

HALLELUJAH HANDS

“I want men everywhere to lift up holy hands in prayer,

without anger or disputing.” 1 Timothy 2:8 NIV    

Some lift one

others, both

chest-high, chin high

Some reach upward

ceilingward, skyward

stretching Heavenward

reaching for

His hem

Soft young graceful hands

with squared airbrushed fingertips

Pudgy, fidgety, child hands

copying his daddy hands

Brown hands, pale hands

old bulging vein hands

Just plain hands

hands with bands

hands flashing rings

stones sparkling

Calloused hands, splintered hands

rough, red dishpan hands

Cold hands, warm hands

peanut butter and jelly hands

Salon hands

nails lacquered red

rose pink or pearly

Tambourine shaking

banner waving

clap clapping

Bible clutching

baby holding

tear wiping

clenching, wrenching

God beseeching hands

Hands clasping the hand

of another

hands signing praise

for ears that cannot hear

hands folded

serenely in a lap

All beautiful

all holy

all His children’s

hallelujah hands

Maude Carolan

As the Fall Holidays Approach...

I am blessed to be a member of a Messianic congregation,
and am looking forward to celebrating the fall holidays...
Here is a brand new poem about that:

Photo credit: youtube.com

AS THE FALL HOLIDAYS APPROACH

I reach for my sweater against the chill

The crickets are chittering

Sunflowers have shed their golden petals

and a few green tomatoes remain

abandoned on the vines

It’s September—

the High Holy Days are approaching

Soon I will gather with mishpoceh[1]

in the parking lot outside Beth Israel

We will observe Rosh Hoshanna

Rabbi Jonathan[2] will sound

his kudu shofar beneath the full moon—

Tekiah—Shevarim—Teruah—Tekiah Gedolah[3]

Sages tell us the first day of the month of Tishri

is the day God created the world

the world He so loved

the world He gave His only Son to save

The trumpeting reminds me

to reflect upon my relationship

with this God of my salvation

reminds me, humbly, to prepare for Yom Kippur

So I ponder the Day of Atonement

ponder the High Priest entering the Holy of Holies

sprinkling the blood of the sacrifice upon the Mercy Seat

ponder the sacrificed goat and the scapegoat

ponder forgiveness

ponder my sins, atoned for by Yeshua[4]

ponder my High Priest, the Perfect Sacrifice

Who offered His Very Own Blood

on my behalf

Next will be Sukkot

the Feast of Tabernacles—

From inside a leafy sukkah

I’ll be reminded of the sojourn of God’s people

to the Promised Land

reminded of my very own sojourn

toward God’s promise—

eternal life with Him

in Heaven

Maude Carolan Pych

---

[1] Mishpoceh is Hebrew for family.

[2] Rabbi Jonathan Cahn, worship leader of Beth Israel Worship Center, Wayne, NJ.

[3] These are the various sounds of the shofar (ram’s horn) on Rosh Hoshanna.

[4] Yeshua is Hebrew for Jesus.

Just Released:

"Is it possible that there exists an ancient master blueprint

that holds the secret behind the events of our times?"

Jonathan Cahn, pastor/rabbi of Beth Israel Worship Center, Wayne, NJ,

has written a new book, published by First Line Publishing

He is the New York Times best-selling author

of "The Harbinger" and "The Book of Mysteries."

It's available now at Beth Israel, online and in bookstores.

Remembering 9/11/01

Image credit: reclaimourrepublic.wordpress.com

WAITING WITH ARMS OUTSTRETCHED

Written in the wake of the September 11, 2001, Attack on America

We’ve been told God doesn’t belong in our schools

He doesn’t belong in public buildings

not in the town square, not at baseball games

We may not pray to Him in our classrooms

His Name has been shushed from graduations

Our witness at work has been silenced

Crèches and menorahs have been removed from government properties

and replaced with roly-poly Santas, tinseled trees and dreidels

Christmas and Hanukkah have been neutered

with wishes of “season’s greetings,” “happy holidays”

We’ve been closeted by the separation of church and state

in this free country founded as a safe haven for religious freedom

but when those 767s flew into those magnificent towers, September 11^th

when those great towers imploded, when thousands died tragically

and shockwaves of grief and terror riveted our planet

suddenly our churches filled

God’s name arose boldly on banners all across the land

It was posted, plastered, scrawled and spoken

prayed to by the President, our leaders, newsmen

It appeared on school message boards

bumper stickers, lapel pins, buttons

It was superimposed upon flag decals glued to our windowpanes

It was emblazoned upon our chests on patriotic T-shirts

and it appeared over and over and over on subway prayer walls

along with Scotch taped photos of those who were missing

Thousands proclaimed it loud and clear

at candlelight vigils and a prayer service at Yankee Stadium

and we all sang it with tears

“God Bless America,” our truer anthem

If we’ve been complacent; if we’ve swept Him aside

packed Him away in attic trunks

with things we thought we wouldn’t need anymore

He’s waiting with arms outstretched

love streaming from His eyes

and we need Him to heal our shattered hearts

Oh, let’s keep the “God Bless” in our “America”

and Americans, let us “Bless God”

O let us never let go of Him again

Maude Carolan

Christian Rock Concert, Ocean Grove, NJ

The Great Auditorium, Ocean Grove, NJ
Photo by Maude

ROCK CONCERT,

GREAT AUDITORIUM, OCEAN GROVE

It was good for us 
to be there

even though 

our silver pates pounded

and our ears 

were so deeply traumatized

by each deafening decibel

our hearing actually dulled, temporarily

The thundering beat bounced off

walls and rafters, ceiling and floor

reverberated in our seats

and sent tremulous vibrations

through our entire beings

It was a rock concert of worship music

with smoke and strobe and spotlights

PowerPoint and praise to Jesus. Hallelujah!

Amplified drums and crashing cymbals

the resounding cymbals the Psalms speak of

It's the very same music we enjoy over the radio

when we have control of the knob

There was no adjusting the volume tonight

The lead singer leaped across the stage

and sang so loudly we couldn't hear words

We attempted to sing along as best we could

we clapped and shouted and raised our hands

along with thousands, mostly young

with wonderful innate enthusiasm

and accustomed, receptive ears

We even did "the wave" with them

until we all were reminded

of the balcony's 100-year-old fragility

We were reminded of our own 60ish fragility

We really wanted to stay. We really wanted to enjoy

We really wanted to span generations with great jubilation

We didn't mean to weenie out, but

looking one to the other

realized our pinched faces weren't reflective

of the fired-up ones one-third our ages

so we ducked out midway through the second performance

Tomorrow we'll go to church

We'll sing, "Come, Thou Almighty King"

Number 392 in the frayed pew hymnal

but we'll treasure aspects of tonight

like the little girl in ribbon-tied pigtails

both hands raised way up high

like the cool guys with their big silver crosses

their earrings and bandanas

black tees emblazoned with The Name

like the twelve-year-old in the row in front of us

who kept spinning his green glow stick

as he danced in the bleachers praising his Jesus

with all the fervor of the shepherd/king of long ago

who led that remarkable gambol of wild abandon

before the Holy Ark

Maude Carolan