Saturday, December 5, 2015

There is Still Beauty

Saw it again today
Despite the darkness
In the distant views
Away from current tragedies

Looked out beyond
From immediate worries
And gazed quiet
Saw Your wonders

Proof of Your love
Beauty exists regardless
While we destroy each other
Creation’s song sings on

Your breath gives life
Alters dust into being
Sings over our fragile souls
And gives hope to the weary

Beyond the hatred
Distant from these killing fields
I can see a pastel sunrise
Feel sun’s warmth on my face

In the bird’s song at sunset
Hear the joy of the dependent
Are we any less than this?
His Word declares our value

And so I lay this head down
When day meets the ink of night
And my sleepless eyes look upward
And realize you own this too

For you did not let the darkness reign
Instead, you sprinkled it in diamonds
Each sparkle a distant light
And yet light just the same

And so are we
In the darkness of this age
Millions of diamonds
Reflecting the light of the Son

And this then is our calling
By Creator’s great commission
That we not remain so fearful
But shine to the lost instead

So when you find yourself weary
And lonesome just like me
Look just a little beyond yourself
And there in creations’ glow

Know that we’ve been set free

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Hearts of Darkness

There you revel and rage
Hidden from our view
And often in plain sight
Camouflaged await your queue

And here we are
The remarkable and the mundane
Going about our routines
Both on the good and bad falls the rain

And though we don’t know you
You find hate for us still
Not satisfied oppressing your own
Our sense of safety you’d kill

And so you plot with your small minds
And you weave a web of lies
Ensnare outcasts, the rebels, and the cruel
Ignore your own countrymen’s cries

Arrogant and small-minded you smirk
And sell your eternity for worthless Jihad
Unknowing pawns of the great serpent
Abuse of power your lightning rod

Raise your bloodied fists in empty victory
You waste prayers on empty space
Under your jackboots we’re trampled
In fear we cower sheltered in place

Still there is something you don’t get
Your naïve belief in misguided cause
Can’t fathom that the joke’s on you
Can’t see you’re caught in great lion’s jaws

So hard to pity the bullies of this world
To feel care for those darkened souls
And yet you are the deceived and lost
It’s for you judgement’s bell tolls

Some will never forgive you
Most will never forget
You’ll not find many merciful
For some anger’s sun will never set

And yet there are those called
By the one and truly King
To rise above our earthly pains
And to pray despite the sting

For He has dealt a victory
By our great enemy’s defeat
Our eternity signed and sealed
Transgressions erased at His mercy seat

Though you are our enemy
And we’re right to feel our anger burn
We’re called to pray for you just the same
And pray one day your hearts will turn

That He’ll speak to you in dreams and visions
And God’s Son will meet you there
That the bitter chains of your slavery
One day you’ll no longer bear

So for now you rage and fight
Wage war over false prophet’s lies
And stumbling in your hypocrisy
From you goodness takes wing and flies

As for me and my house
We’ll continue to follow the Lord
But until you utter repentance  

God’s great wrath for you is stored 

Sunday, November 8, 2015

Why I’ll Never Be P.C.

Ask for my opinion
Then say how do I dare
Ask me to state my beliefs
And dismiss me with haughty stare

Some have said of me
I suffer not fools
Can’t say I don’t disagree
I just blame their gene pools

I know one day I may regret
This unfiltered way of mine
And though I can be gentle too
A sharp pen strengthens my spine

Some ask me to hide this true face
And though I get it I cannot do it
In the face of intellectual idiocy
I must admit this fire is lit

So if I sometimes offend you
I hope you’ll meet me in the middle
And find it sometimes refreshing
That I’ll never feed you a riddle

So pardon me for saying it
Soon free speech will die
Those like me will be swept away
For being unable to accept a lie

And you’ll exist in false unity
In a fantasy world of glass
Transparent as a gravestone
With freedom six feet under the grass

From my grave I’ll not weep
For my soul’s not bound there
But if you without Christ fall asleep
You’ll wake beyond and find you care  

So if this spurs an angry thought
And you feel you’d like to talk
Let’s meet somewhere with open hearts
And take an impactful walk

Don’t dismiss what you don’t understand
Is something you always ask of me
But for once the tables are turned
I hope open minded you’ll be

For you see the One I follow
Says that for those who truly seek
He is not afraid of your doubt
Nor will He fail to speak

He’ll break through the ice
And melt your heart of stone
His truth will set you free
From this prison of flesh and bone

And the chains that have held you
Invisible and yet still so real
Like blindness will fall away
And your life they’ll no longer steal

So if you never listened to me
Never even once before
May you hear me just this one time
I pray you open up your heart’s door

Ignore my imperfect words for once
But hear the not so P.C. message this one time
The one who knocks on your heart’s door
Offers you eternal peace that’s sublime

One day I hope you’ll forgive me
My persistence you’ll understand
That if I’m convinced of the truth

I have to preach it throughout the land

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

What Our Words and Voices Say to Those Who Observe Us

Just a few thoughts for all of us to chew on for a while as it concerns those things that people hear us both say verbally as well as what we say via the many channels of today’s social media.

I began thinking on this subject just yesterday for an idea to take shape and this post to begin forming in the deep waters of my mind.

Do any of us ever take the time to contemplate what we say before we say it? And, when I ask this question, trust me on this… I’m asking it of myself as much as I am asking it for you my reader. Additionally, I am truly targeting a specific audience here. And, that audience would be those of you who read this and would identify themselves as followers of Christ.

I can quote scripture that backs my questions up and I am going to do that for my sake and yours, so let’s dive in.

The reason I am contemplating this subject has multiple reasons, but from a day to day perspective, this discussion comes out of my daily review of social media and that being primarily Facebook.

Recently, I have found myself being assaulted by more and more instances where I open up my Facebook wall only to find any number of offensive (to me anyway) words bludgeoning my psyche, my eyes, and my internal thesaurus. I’m not kidding either, when I say that I am blocking 3 – 5 posts and or individual Facebook friends for using words that even though they may be part of the English language and yes, found in a dictionary, they are unwelcome showing up on my Facebook wall or being spouted off in public either.

Now, before you go off on me or call me a prude or tell me I am being way too judgmental, let’s remember that I am primarily speaking to myself and my fellow Christ followers.

Does what we say, write, or re-post matter when it comes to something we rarely talk about amongst ourselves or in our churches these days, which is our “witness” to others around us? Honestly, I am asking you because I would love to hear anybody else’s thoughts on this.

When the scriptures say that we are to be in the world, but not of it, what does that mean for us? If anything?

I’m unsure if I ever hear many people talking about something like personal holiness these days. We are not talking about being holier than thou, or looking down on someone who may have only recently accepted Christ and grew up in an environment that thought nothing of the impact of words, 4 letter or otherwise. What I am talking about is those of us who have been in the faith for a bit and ought to be more self-aware regarding how we speak or how our words are perceived.

The tongue is a powerful tool and can build up and destroy in the same breath.

What we are also talking about is a personal ownership and value placed upon our integrity and whether people take us seriously or not.

People will not view what you say as being valuable once your witness has been tainted by the fact that they just see you as just another “religious” person rather than a committed follower of Christ.

I am not judging anyone specifically. I am merely asking whether you or I in the context of who we say we belong to and aspire to be like, are  reflecting on whether we are shining God’s perfect and holy light to the world? Or, are we sending the world mixed messages that are lost in translation when we end up looking no different than the world that we are supposed to be set apart from?

What I am pointing out is this: Our following Christ comes with a cost. Our following Christ means that we have to not only look to the past and appreciate what Christ did on the cross so long ago for us, but we must (as scripture asks of us) take up that cross daily and live in such a way that honors Jesus and shows that we at least in part understand that he died for each and every sin we have committed and are yet to commit in our lives. What a shame on us it is when if we recognize what he has done, that we knowingly continue to sin for no other reason than to look cool in the world’s eyes, or to fit in with current culture, or to avoid having to explain why we are behaving differently than the majority around us.

We are called in scripture as aliens and strangers. We have our inheritance and citizenship in heaven. Why then do we so often set aside our adoption as sons and daughters to live in a counterfeit life where we don’t rock the boat as radicals? For that is what we are to be, radicals in a world that prefers to have us all live as something less than we are called to be.

Let’s all make a pact. Not one to call each other out or to hurt one another for having briefly lived as someone who is less than we can be in Christ. Let’s make a pact to live a life in holiness that only our total dependence in Christ can bring about. And, instead of judging each other, or calling out each other’s failings, we lift each other frequently in prayer or quietly praise and encourage each other to live as the holy children of God that we are called and meant to be.

Today’s scriptures. All come from the ESV.

James 3:10
From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so

Ephesians 5:4
Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving.

Colossians 3:8
But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth.

In Christ’s love and in humility,

Mike Meehan


Wednesday, October 21, 2015

The One Who Has Gone Before

We enter this world
Without a clue
Eyes open on first day’s light
And we cry out on cue

Creator forms us
Hidden from view
Endows us with gifts
Grants our unique life so new

Some just live blind
Directionless and lonely
And some let their fears
Drown hope and victory

Some wait for a rescuer
A hero brave and strong
Someone to pick them up
And carry them to the finish

Some realize a poignant truth
That despite heroes being real
We don’t look in the right place
To find a hero dwells inside

Dormant and yet to wake
Maybe your hero awaits
Listening for just one command
A call to action from your own soul

Leave your fears behind you
Take courage from your savior
Raise your eyes to heaven
And gaze on an eternal son rise

Let nothing get in your way
No haters, critics, nor excuses
Raise the anchor and unfurl the sails
The horizon before and wind at your back

So hear this message now
Don’t ignore this traveler’s tale
Armor up for the coming battle
And for new adventures set sail

For the one in whom you’ve put your faith
He’s walked this road before
Never failed you nor has He faltered

And in Him your victory is sure

Monday, October 5, 2015

Just a Gun and its Thoughts

Like most creations
I was born from thought
From need unto design
From creativity was I wrought

To ease their toil and labor
I came from human need
Never could’ve imagined
My role in an evil deed

For once created I lie here
Sometimes in a musty case
Or belted in a holster
Sometimes I start a race

Sometime in my history
Like Cain and Abel of old
I was forced to commit a murder
Hefted like a rock in passion so bold

Was not asked for my opinion
Nor given any choice
As I’m an inanimate object
God never granted me a voice

No way to wander nor explore
I cannot I choose my owner
Sometimes I stand for the law
And other times for a stoner

The liberals think I embody evil
But Constitution grants a right you see
Those would be owners want a choice
Just a chance to take or leave me

And so I lie here until I’m taken up
No actions made when not in hand
Some say that if I was unattainable
All would be far safer in this land

Some wonder if I were unmade
Beaten down from sword to plow
That violence would be of the past
And peace could be ushered in now

But though I am this lowly thing
And my thoughts are just my own
I wonder at the shortsightedness
That history’s always shown

For some, they always follow
Intelligent thoughts so far away
In breezes of popular thought
Their white flags wave and sway

Blaming all on unfeeling metal
As if we could choose our use
They plot to keep us from the sane
And in so doing tighten the noose

You see they’ve never been correct
It’s not at all about what I condone
It’s always been about a human’s heart
I assure you I’ve never acted alone

So when you next see those tears
The hot stains on victim’s face
Don’t be fooled that it’s my fault
Nobody does evil like the human race

Thursday, September 24, 2015

Earthly Stage

Our lives like a play
Lived on an Earthly stage
Act like we have no say
With our script written in stone

Performing this mortal play
As if the end was written
Stumbling through each day
Like helpless marionettes

But, the writer smiles on us
For our shortsighted unknowing
And our living so unaware
Because this script lives and breathes

A living document is our play
A story etched from invisible ink
A novel which is both finished
And yet remains incomplete

For though the end’s a mystery
To those who live this play
The conclusion is known
By the one who truly sees

And so we stumble and stagger
Drunken in our own ignorance
Lost and looking for answers
We cry out from bended knees

And if we grow silent and still
Humbling these trembling hearts
We may yet hear His quiet call
A whisper to cast all fear aside

Courage is just a prayer away
A treasure with no value
Until these hands through faith
Lift the sword and cut these bonds

Only then are our eyes set free
To see beyond these chains
Courage wielding the key
That unlocks faith and freedom

So it goes from then till now
On and on this play repeats
From one generation to another
Endless lives shuffle across this stage

Insanity’s outcomes only broken
By scarred hands that intercede
And so He tore that curtain down
That stood for the longest time

Selfless sacrifice ended our separation
That His father we might know
Tore up our scripts and made a way
So that in free will we now dwell

And again as though on a stage
Our lives are lived for all to see
But we no longer have to languish there 
Because in Christ we've been set free

Sunday, August 30, 2015


Chapter 2
As the four vehicles arrived, Ridge was struck again at the antiquated tech he was seeing.  These vehicles clearly had no repulsors and instead rolled along on soft black rollers that appeared to be filled with a gas of some sort.  Ridge had heard of such things, but had only rarely seen anything close on any of the worlds he had visited. 
One vehicle took the lead and pulled up within a few yards of the cockpit view-port.  A burly man with short cropped graying hair stood up and stepped down out of the passenger seat.  His face was weathered and tanned as well as scarred.  Ridge knew a seasoned soldier when he saw one, though he had rarely encountered a soldier that had obviously lived through numerous campaigns.  Most clone soldiers did not live long enough to ever get gray hair let alone see their first year out of the academy.
Ridge was fortunate indeed, since he had far outlasted many of his cadre brothers.  He had shown an even greater aptitude than many of his clan mates for learning and doing it quickly.  This ability had saved his shebs more times than he could count, but had also loaded his heart with guilt.  At times he felt an overwhelming sense of loss and heartache for those many brothers that he was unable to save.  He knew it was unreasonable for him to think such things, but he also knew that his Kaminoan creators had not managed to breed the humanity out of him.  So he sometimes mulled over his thoughts regarding the brevity of a soldier’s life and the lack of value the Republic had placed on he and his brothers.
Unknown to virtually every one of Ridge’s buddies though was that his life was truly unnatural in comparison to theirs.  For Ridge had a secret.  He held a secret that only an elite few were aware of.  One of his old Mandalorian sergeants had approached him less than six months prior to his current predicament.  This sergeant, Kal Skirata, had offered him a chance at a real life, a life measured in decades, not just a few short years.
For you see, the Mandalorian clones that had mostly been birthed on Kamino had been predestined with a fatal flaw.  In order to create an army of the vast size that the Republic required and even then on a fast time line, the clones had to be forced to mature quickly.  Oh yes, the clones were bred for war and oh yes they were compliant, but they could not live long with the accelerated growth built into them.  For those clones that outlived the fighting that so often ended their struggle for life, they were doomed for the most part to less than a decade or two of living.  And, inside they were just young boys craving to know what life was really all about beyond the battlefields that they knew so well.
Kal Skirata, or Kal Buir, or Papa Kal was a hard fighting, razor edged man that had a soft heart when it came to “his boys.”  Kal made no bones about how much he despised and hated the Kaminoans for using the clones so harshly and so often unceremoniously “disposing” of the flawed ones.  He had made it his business to look out for their needs and rights even after he had walked away from the Republic in disgust over their treatment of “his” boys. 
Kal had set up a special retreat on the Mandalorian home planet of Mandalore.  From that base he had begun waging a private war on those who would profit from his boys suffering.  He had made it his life’s work to search for a cure that would reverse the accelerated aging process that the clones were subject to.  He eventually succeeded, but it was a bittersweet victory since Kal was really only able to save a very few of these men. 
Kal had encountered Ridge on numerous occasions since he had moved quickly through the ranks to become a special ops fighter with numerous specializations.  Kal was called back to the GAR headquarters many times to either consult with the GAR leaders regarding tactics or how to deal with the difficult Mandalorian leadership.  Kal was always impressed by Ridge’s neutral attitude towards the GAR and towards the Jedi.  But more than that, Kal was impressed… no, touched deeply by Ridge’s apparent love for the rest of his clone brothers.  Ridge often spent time in the infirmary or the rehab centers in his down time, apparently just playing sabac or swapping war stories with various clones who were out of action.  Kal could see more than your average clone in Ridge and he wanted to give him a gift.  A gift worthy of one who had sacrificed much and deserved to live something a little closer to a normal life.
 A standard week before Ridge had shipped out on is current mission he had received a care package from Kal.  Spicy nerf jerky, a container of candied wara nuts, and a hypo of something that Ridge was sure could not be what he thought it was.
There was also a neatly folded bundle of flimsy with his name written in Mandalorian on the outside.  Ridge had the time later that night when they were going to be in hyperspace transit to the latest hot zone.  He was brutally tired of all the killing, especially all of these newly cropping up civilian uprisings.  Apparently much of the galaxy’s hard working under-classes were not as confident and happy that the Jedi had all but been wiped out.  With so many under-armed people willing to throw themselves in front of his Deece, he was thinking maybe he had misjudged the Jedi.  He still believed that they were misguided and that often many of them had been arrogant, but he knew now that they would have sided with the very people he was being ordered to kill.
Ridge did not want any more innocent blood on his hands.  He knew he wanted out, but after what had happened to several of his defecting brothers recently, he was for one of the first times in his life fearful that he would not live to experience a “normal” life.  During his travel to the new combat zone, he made up his mind to contact Kal.  A small luxury he had been afforded as he rose in rank from Sergeant to Captain, was that he was assigned his own quarters on most of the Republic’s larger vessels.  This now gave him the chance that he needed to have privacy to work out his escape plan with little chance for its discovery.  Ridge donned his helmet and immediately winked out the activation code sequence that would initiate the secured comm. line to Mandalore. 
The line crackled and popped for a moment and then a clear line came up.  Ridge was further shocked at the audacity of Kal and his boys when he realized that Kal had set this line up with a holo feed as well.  A small picture appeared in his left eyepiece.  Initially, he could only see what looked like a blank wall of what did not appear to be a plasti-form field building like the GAR would use.  Instead, it appeared to be a wall paneled in of all things, wood.
A moment later, a face appeared.  A face he knew all too well.  It was his own, but with a few scars he did not recognize and a mouth that was twisted in a mischievous half-grin.  He was pretty sure who this fellow brother was and he was amazed since at one time, reports had said that Fi was mortally wounded and left for dead after one of the battles following the execution of Order 66. 
Fi’s voice came over loud and clearer than Ridge would ever have imagined considering the distance that he knew was between them.  Fi said, “Ahh.. Kal had us all wondering if we’d ever hear from you.  Koyiche Rijika!”
Ridge was caught off guard at the use of his Mando name.  Only Kal had dared use it since a day long ago that he would rather forget.  Ridge had beat other men to within an inch of their lives since that day for daring to use it again, but now it felt different.  This time it came with hope attached.  “Koyiche Fi!  I have little time for this communication Fi.  Is Kal there?  Can I speak to him?  It’s urgent.”
Fi hesitated, his face showing that he had news that was not what Ridge wanted to hear.  “Ah.. I’m sorry Rij.  Kal is offworld on one of his little missions.  He left orders for no one to contact him unless there was urgent reason to do so.  I’m afraid you’re going to have to hang on there brother.”
   “Gone to ground has he?  Well, I’ve been waiting this long, so I guess another campaign or two isn’t any more likely to be the death of me than any of the previous ones.  You barvs seen any action lately Fi?”
Fi chuckled for a moment.  “Come on Rij, you know I can’t share our secrets with you until you’ve blown all your bridges behind you.  It’d be way too risky for all of us.  But, I can tell you that if you were here with your liberated brothers, you would never be bored.  That is unless you want to be.  Kal Buir would never keep you from your dreams.  Whatever your heart desires is all Kal wants for any of us.  If you hope to find a mate and settle somewhere to be a dirt farmer, then he’ll gladly leave you to yourself.” 
Ridge was startled out of his thoughts on Fi’s words by a warning klaxon now blaring over the com system in the corridor outside his quarters.  “Sorry to bang out on you Fi, but seems we’ve just reverted and the locals don’t want us here in the worst way.  Let Kal know I came calling as soon as you can…” Ridge nearly choked on his next words.  “Fi… I want out brother.  My heart is not in this anymore.”
Fi was quiet for a moment.  Normally very funny and blessed with a dry wit, he was temporarily lost for words.  He knew just how hard it was to leave the only things you knew.  To leave your brothers and the bond they all shared.  But he knew the other side of that decision was the freedom he now lived in.  There was no turning back.
“Rijika, you hold strong and watch your back.  Don’t lower your guard and lose focus.  We need and want you here.  Even if all you want is to be left alone.  We’ll get your attention again soon enough and we’ll get you out of there clean. We’ll keep the nerf steaks hot and leave plenty of warra nuts for you.  Koyiche Rijika!  Fi out.”
“Koyiche Fi.”
That conversation seemed so long ago already.  The battle that ensued right after that conversation had been a fateful one.  A battle that landed him here, wherever in the universe here was.
Ridge was startled out of his thoughts at a loud clanging on the exit hatch.  “Nine-Eight, prepare for a boarding party.  Let’s not aggravate these barvs if we can help it.  I have a feeling they are already just a bit angry about one of their fighters being nothing but scrap.  Go meet them at the hatch and bring them to meet me in the mess.”
“Certainly Sir.”
Ridge heard the hatch air lock hiss open in the distance and then voices raised momentarily in surprise.  Or was it alarm?  He could hear Nine-Eight raise his voice as well, but then all of the voices trailed briefly off.
Ridge made his way back to the small mess area near the center of the ship and only waited a moment to hear the voices growing louder again.  He sat down at the primary dining table and waited for the boarding party.  They arrived a moment later and He was surprised to see that the gray haired man was a bit shorter than he had expected.  Ridge barely concealed a grin at the expressions on the faces of the three boarders.  Their eyes were drinking in every detail of his ship and their mouths nearly hung open from apparent shock at the sight of the entirely unfamiliar tech.
The gray haired soldier composed himself quickly and took on a more serious air of authority and expectation that his commands would not be questioned.  He began to speak and Ridge felt an immediate gut reaction since he had just that voice quality that conveyed authority and confidence. 
He looked directly at Ridge and said, “Sir, we are confiscating this craft until further notice.”
Ridge felt a rage boiling up from deep inside. But a voice in his head was whispering to him. He couldn’t concentrate on what it was saying unless he could calm his spirit. He took a deep breath and brought up a calming thought. Unnoticed by the boarders, he used a meditation technique he had picked up from one of the young Jedi generals that he had served with briefly. Ridge at one time thought this young Jedi was crazy, but he could not argue with the successful use of this method for he and his brothers when they were in stressful situations, which was practically all of the time.
And the voice was saying that he needed to just remain calm and bide his time. He would get a chance to break free from these aruetyc soon enough. He still felt uncertain, but at least he wasn’t about to blow an actuator. Strange though, that voice brought up feelings of familiarity that he could not shake. Someone he had known and at one time respected came to mind. But... that was a while ago and had not ended well. Ridge shook off the thought and tried to focus on “gray hair.”
“Son.” Gray Hair said. “Are you well? Have you been injured? Should I have a medical officer check you out?”
“No, I’m fine.” Ridge said in his best trooper monotone.
“Do you have a name or a designation, son?” asked Gray Hair.
“My designation is CT-RDJ-8,” Ridge whispered
“Ok, son.” Gray Hair said softly.  “I think I understand.  We’ll try and take this slow.  For now.”
“No, you don’t understand,” thought Ridge.  “If you truly did, maybe you’d help me.  Maybe you would mourn for me.”
Ridge’s mind was spinning.  It was awash with thoughts and plans for escape, but it was also leading him toward the slippery slope of depression.  He was finding it increasingly difficult to see any hope for his escape, since he knew that could not happen without some help.  And, there was the tough question.  From where exactly could he get help if he had no idea where he was and no idea if anybody he knew was anywhere close enough to get to him at all.  Damned wormhole!
He had always had his brothers to fall back on.  Even if some of them were killed off in battle, others like them were sent to take their places.  They shared more than just their genetics, they shared in rituals that had been drilled into them by their trainers.  They bonded them together at some deeper level, especially the one where they recited the names of all of their fallen brothers.  This ritual was repeated after returning from every battle. 
 Some of their trainers were Mandalorian like his had been.  Kal Skirata was a great trainer and had become like a father to many of “his boys.”  Ridge would never forget papa Kal and the risks he took to make the clones feel like more than just blaster fodder. 
With these varied thoughts swirling through his head and consuming him, Ridge barely noticed the quiet footsteps that came up behind him. And the gentle hands that placed a field blanket over his weary shoulders. When he glanced around, he thought he saw the slight form of a woman ducking around the nearest bulkhead. With the warm blanket on his shoulders, he began feeling all the stress of the last day draining from him.
Then he heard a woman’s voice telling him to stand.
“Let’s make this easy OK?”
He recognized the voice. It was the female pilot that had convinced him to land and surrender. He looked her in the eye and saw sympathy, curiosity, confusion, and something else he couldn’t quite pin down. What was her name again?
“Sarah?” He said quietly.
“Yes?” She said with expectation.
“Why haven’t I been taken to a cell, or thrown in my ships brig?”
           “Well,” she paused. “To be honest, none of us knows what to make of you. I mean you come hurtling into our system from who knows where. You take out some of our defenses and nearly kill one of us, but then you contradict all that we might think of you and risk your freedom to save one of us. And you do all of that soldier,” she pauses again, “after we do our level best to vaporize you.”
           “Don’t get us wrong though. We have locked down your ship to the tarmac and we think that we have disconnected your power sources so that you would at least be slowed down if you were to try to escape. You are imprisoned here, but if you show us the same integrity that we saw in the air, you may find yourself with more freedom than you might have imagined.”
Ridge was truly puzzled. Back in the Republic, at the very least he would be locked up in solitary and for his lack of cooperation he would likely be facing torture. In fact, for his having taken out a key piece of hardware like Deej’s fighter, he would likely already be dead. The facts were that these people, despite any hard feelings he might have against them, were already showing themselves to be of a better caliber than was often found back in his part of the universe.
He made an attempt to build another bridge. “Sarah, for whatever it’s worth.” He paused, feeling lonelier than ever. “Thank you for sticking up for me and not letting the heat of the moment get the best of you.”
“You know, I think you still have this partially wrong. I mean, don’t you figure you maybe did a little of the defending your life on your own? I did stick up for you, but you really did show some real…” She paused too, at a loss for the right word. “You know the word I would choose is quality. You did something not many of the rest of us would have ever had the courage to do in the heat of battle.”
Ridge considered this. “I understand how you might reach that conclusion miss… I mean Sarah. But, … well if I was not lost and separated from my unit, things might have gone far differently.”
“Well sir, the fact is the situation is exactly how you described it and you made the choices today that you made. And, because you did them, you have a certain amount of freedom. If I were you, I would enjoy them, but I would not take them for granted.”
“On a side note, I would sure feel better about all of this if you had a name. I mean that code of yours is fine I’m sure if you are a prisoner in hostile company, but I hope that we might be on friendlier terms than that. If not now, then maybe someday soon.
Ridge was feeling lonely and Sarah’s speech was fairly convincing, if not completely sincere. He only had to think for another moment. “OK Sarah. If nothing else, it will make the conversations easier. You can call me Ridge. Captain Ridge.”
Sarah looked at him with piercing green eyes.
“Well, Captain Ridge. We’ll see what the future holds. If you’ll be here for a while, I hope we can become friends. But, it has been a long day don’t you think? Are you hungry?”
“I would say starving Sarah, but that would be an exaggeration. I do have rations in my locker in the hold,” he said unconvincingly.
“But wouldn’t you rather have a fresh, hot, home cooked meal?” Sarah said disbelieving him. “Field rations can’t hold up against that. Right?”
“Well, no. But, except for a rare special occasion, that’s all I’ve ever known.” Ridge was feeling hungrier by the minute.
“Then that settles it!” Sarah said with enthusiasm. “Captain Ridge, you are in for a treat. Our head cook, Rudy will make you forget about those field rations for sure. For tonight you’ll need to stay on your ship, so Rudy will be bringing the meal on board.”
“What about after today?” Ridge queried.
Ridge sensed Sarah hesitating.
“We’ll cross that bridge tomorrow Captain. Let’s just see this day through and let tomorrow’s concerns be just that,” said Sarah with a slight smile.
So that settled it. And just a short time later Rudy arrived at Ridge’s ship and brought a fresh hot meal the like he could not compare to in his short life. According to Sarah, there were barbecued baby back ribs, (Which at first Ridge refused until Sarah laughingly explained they were not from human babies, but rather a creature called a pig) beef steaks, and a sweet fleshed fish called a trout. There were also fresh vegetables of several varieties including something called roasted corn on the cob which he especially liked. But the desert was the crowning jewel of the night. Sarah called it ice cream and said it was made from frozen cow’s milk, sugar and there was a fruit in this one called peaches. He could have eaten the entire crock of it, but he tried his best not to be rude.
Sarah would have spent the whole night laughing at Ridge’s almost childlike delight in the food but she didn’t want to embarrass him too much. She also felt a strange sense of sadness in Ridge. Something in her heart made her realize that there was far more to this man than just his rough soldier’s exterior and the mystery about where he had come from. There were many unanswered questions and she was becoming sure that some of the answers were going to be difficult for more than just Ridge to talk about.
Sarah was also briefly baffled about something Captain Ridge said right after Rudy left them with the food.
Ridge stared intensely at Rudy when he first entered the ship’s common area. In fact the stare was so intense that Rudy told Sarah that Ridge made him feel uncomfortable. Ridge apologized and said that Rudy reminded him of someone that he had once known. Sarah filed that in the back of her mind to ask him about later. She sincerely wanted to make Ridge at ease since she felt it would be easier for him to be interrogated later if he was less stressed.
Unknown to Ridge, Sarah had continued to battle for him behind the scenes.  She had been forced more than once to remind everyone in charge that Ridge had risked a great deal by agreeing to surrender. He could have easily taken out all of the fighter craft at their base. She knew he probably could not survive for very long without refueling or being able to replenish his stores of missiles and ballistic rounds but he seemed like he could be resourceful enough to go to ground for an unknown amount of time.

Sarah argued more and more frequently that befriending this man might provide advantages to them against their terrible and powerful enemies. If Captain Ridge had been captured by the enemy, there would be all manner of hell to pay later. And, if word got back to their enemies that they had gotten their hands on new and formidable technology like Ridge’s ship boasted, the enemy would be certain to show up sooner rather than later to rip it from their cold dead hands.

Friday, August 7, 2015

Signs in the Heavens

Saw the sky blush
So shyly in its peering
And through the windows
Captivated gaze was steering

Opened the blinds
To vista’s glory
Pristine pastels spoke
Of the Creator’s story

In crystal blues
Beside golden treasures
And pinks like flowers
Brought heartfelt pleasures

Heavenly brushstrokes
Swept away my cares
Breathed joy and peace
So this heart again dares

Courage again to dream
And hope to lift these wings
This heart may boldly go
Eyes seeing past earthly things

So with chin held high
And armor from head to toe
I step boldly into this day
Because Savior will with me go

Take the bushel from this light
And to the world dare show
The flame not of my own
In darkness casts its glow

For I know I’m naught without you
Alone cannot stand and fight
But when you dwell in my heart
There’s no need to fear the night

So as darkness descends
Inevitably comes my way
You remind me once again
It’s you that won the day

In evening canopy you show again
Amidst the lightning flash
That your promises never fail
And my hopes you will not dash

For stretched across your canvas
A rainbow glows in skies of rust
And so my arms they rise to you
Because it’s in you I place my trust

Monday, June 22, 2015

Our Accusers' Folly

You always throw me
Kick me to the curb
Every chance you get
My life you just disturb

It’s in your nature
How you roar and rage
Won’t leave me alone
Ripped open your cage

Stand in your pinstripes
In most convincing disguise
Piling on the evidence
My destruction is your prize

I would fight them
Rage against your lies
If only you were physical
I’d steal life from your eyes

Your native tongue
Vomits an endless flow
Buries me in despair
Drags me into the undertow

When my sight grows dim
I own the caricature you create
Hope gone like fog on a breeze
My dreams stolen by your hate

So you may ask me how
How do I stand in the wind
Where do I find the strength
Don’t break but just bend

No earthly anchor strong
No hero’s strength I bear
Only from bended knees
Can I this tempest dare

For my eyes have read
And my heart has heard
Eternal promises made
And your lessons learned

My Savior knows me
Breathed life into this dust
Stands forever in my defense
And in Him I place my trust

When I lie here in these ruins
Laid low by enemies blows
Savior’s promises lift these eyes
To see the defeat of all my foes

Ask me how my hope hangs on
And my heart will tell you why
Faiths spark is fanned to flame
For my eternity did Jesus buy

And in each step now I take
Forward whether to run or crawl
Each breath a gift from my Lord
So in this strength that’s not my own

Now can I stand tall

Sunday, June 7, 2015

Doormat No More

Here I have lain
For oh so long
Lost track of time
And it felt all wrong

Didn’t happen quickly
It happened just the same
Never was content here
And I sought someone to blame

If you look a bit too closely
And read between the lines
You may be a bit surprised
By the social landmines

For you see, true friendship
Well it does not seek its own
And finds in putting others first
Kingdom’s treasures have grown

A truer friend cannot be found
A better brother never seen
Than one who lays down their life
On hope of repayment doesn’t lean

And yet there I lay
With my hope held fast
Waiting patiently
While precious time had passed

As time flows relentlessly by
Heart like fragile glass does crack
Assaulted by sticks and stones
And the weight of excuses stack

Like a splinter in the heart
Or a stinger’s poison flows
I dig deep to remove you
And recover from your blows

My spirit only stands this way
Sways and creaks in these winds
By the strength of faithful Savior
Back not broken, it only bends