oldschoolrhymes

it’s hard sometimes
to trust, in the face of fear
when the things we hold so dear
are clouded with doubt and old-school rhymes
that tell you, “you don’t deserve anything good.”

I just want to enjoy life and work with wood
but I’m afraid I’ll be misunderstood
forced and enslaved to toil
gripped in a python’s coil
with no escape but to repeat
the heat of pressure and cold feet.

I need to trust, in the face of fear
that God has been with us all this year.
it’s been tough, but God has collected every tear
and even when we felt alone, he’s always been near
He’s writing redemption in the mess

I must confess
that even though times seem bleak
we’ve survived another week
and I believe that the best is yet to come
so I stick out my raised thumb
and trust, in the face of fear.

© Mark Bryant 23 August, 2019

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#oldschoolrhymes

Psalm 56:3-4, 8-13
But when I am afraid, I will put my trust in you. I praise God for what he has promised. I trust in God, so why should I be afraid? What can mere mortals do to me?

You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book. My enemies will retreat when I call to you for help. This I know: God is on my side! I praise God for what he has promised; yes, I praise the Lord for what he has promised. I trust in God, so why should I be afraid? What can mere mortals do to me? I will fulfill my vows to you, O God, and will offer a sacrifice of thanks for your help. For you have rescued me from death; you have kept my feet from slipping. So now I can walk in your presence, O God, in your life-giving light.

All the things I write
are a testimony to this journey.
Thoughts, feelings, unjust dealings
and hopefully – at times – the golden words of wisdom
that come from you.

Perhaps I’ll look back and see the ebb and flow
- the weave of feelings, honest conversations,
and the life-giving Word of God,
writing redemption in the mess.

I’m still afraid of being completely honest
because I fear wrath,
and I know I’ll be the one found in the wrong.

But Jesus – who always remains the same – loves me
and asks me to cast my cares upon Him,
so as best as I can, I do.

I ask the questions borne out of pain.
I try to have the honest conversations
that will bring life and healing.

That these words I write would be a glorious testimony
how God brought us through the most difficult times
held safe in the palm of his hand.
With lessons learned well
and perfect truth becoming old-school rhymes.

© Mark Bryant 17 August, 2019

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#oldschoolrhymes

Hebrews 13:8
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Habakkuk 2:1-2
I will climb up to my watchtower and stand at my guardpost. There I will wait to see what the Lord says and how he will answer my complaint. Then the Lord said to me, “Write my answer plainly on tablets, so that a runner can carry the correct message to others.

Isaiah 40:8
The grass withers and the flowers fade, but the word of our God stands forever.”

Proverbs 3:1-3
My child, never forget the things I have taught you. Store my commands in your heart. If you do this, you will live many years, and your life will be satisfying. Never let loyalty and kindness leave you! Tie them around your neck as a reminder. Write them deep within your heart.

As the season of old-school rhymes
comes to an end,
we see that it’s on faith
on which we must depend.

Because in the natural,
I cannot fully see,
what the perfect work is
that God’s doing in me.

And to realise it’s for more
than just ‘my’ next chapter,
but part of a larger story
that my mind’s trying to capture.

Work in me! Give me confidence
in hoping for the best,
even though I have no clue
what’s happening next.

© Mark Bryant 31 May 2019

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Hebrews 11 – The Heroes of Faith

22 thou’ is too much
for the attack.
Let any who lack courage
leave and turn back.
10K remained and then
drank from a brook.
Keep only the 300
that had the lapping dog look.

I don’t want your nation
to fall back into old school rhymes,
of claiming their own strength
got them through tough times,
so that’s why I’m doing miracles,
with your handful of sand – no more –
you’re going to defeat the opposition,
though they appear like a sea-shore.

And if you’re still feeling afraid,
why not go and have a listen
to what the armies of Midian
are saying about you, Gideon?
Once you’re encouraged,
make the trumpets blast.
‘A sword for the Lord and for Gideon’
rings out among shattered jars.

The battle was the Lord’s
and not too much of a bother
because the Midian alliance
all turned on each other.
And though there was still
a bit of cleaning up to do,
you can see how the Lord
did miraculously come through.

A little bit of irony,
as the enemy commanders perished
where this story kinda started,
with a rock and a wine-press.
There’s more that could be said,
about Gideon not being perfect
but God still used Him to save a nation,
despite present and future defects.

So can I be encouraged,
in the midst of my mess
and believe that my God
hasn’t finished with me yet?
I’m going to get through this,
and I won’t be the same.
My God is greater
than any numbers game.

© Mark Bryant 31 May 2019

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Judges 7 – Gideon takes on Midian

You see me.

Threshin’ wheat ain’t neat in a winepress,
But it has to be done in this state of duress.
I’m surrounded by evil and old-school rhymes
of God forsaking people committing sacrilegious crimes.

You see me.

You greet me while I’m discretely hidden.
Call me a mighty warrior who’ll beat the system,
and though I throw out every excuse under the sun,
You say that “I will be with you” and that I’ll strike down Midian.

You see me.

I give you the best that I have to offer
You don’t mind the test. Giving a sign’s not a bother,
and before I even get started with the dew and the fleece,
Your beautiful response is “life” and “peace.”

You see me.

Life-changing things began at the Oak of Ophrah,
and I followed Your command to break down Baal’s altar –
to cut down Asherah poles as fuel for the flames,
sacrificing my dad’s bull, for the glory of Your name.

You see me.

In ways, I’m ‘packing death.’ I’m really afraid.
Now my own people want to kill me.  Am I going insane?
I don’t want this to be my thoughts.  I need to know it’s You.
That’s why I ask for 2 tests, using fleece and dew.

You see me.

I’m scared of Your anger. I just want this to be right,
before the battle begins proper over the coming days and nights.
The trumpet sounds as a call to arms.  I’m amazed at all the followers,
because when I see only insignificance, You see a Mighty Warrior.

© Mark Bryant 30 May 2019
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Judges 6
Call of Gideon

The conclusion of the story displays God’s glory.
Blessing for all parties, no matter where the start is.
God can take the mess of hopeless brokenness,
flip it on its head and bring out good instead.

Instead of a scandal, guys gave it some jandal.
Did things the right way. Followed the moral highway.
Did things so old-school. Rhymes that proved no fool.
Witnessed and sealed. A God-ordained deal.

From an extended drought of sorrow and doubt
the rain came quick and laid it on thick -
not just now for the nation or the current generation –
the good times affected the one’s considered neglected.

Like the ocean that sinks back before the wave does attack,
the blessing poured inland. It’s what God had planned,
to bless not only you, but other people too!
Not just a small sample. He’ll give it some jandal!

© Mark Bryant 29 May 2019
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#oldschoolrhymes

Ruth 4

Tick-tock, tick-tock. Time is slippin’.
Old-school rhymes in my mind be trippin’.
Needing some grace – needing some flavour.
Less salt, more taste – a season of favour

I need some good news. Some hope for tomorrow
because I just feel the noose, tightening with sorrow.
All the doors have been slammed.  All the doors have been closed
and I’m hurting my hand in the jamb, and my toes.

I don’t know what’s next! What’s the next thing to learn?
Because the anxiety in my mind is starting to burn.
I need a break in the clouds.  A sprinkle of rain.
Something to help grow this stagnating grain.

May there be light at the end of this tunnel,
like the full blazing sun being focused through a funnel.
I don’t want to be spoiled.  I just want this season to be worth
more than the investment that’s been paid into the earth.

It’s hard to know that there’s more cultivating to be done
before the true harvest has even begun.
But if I need patience and maturity in this field,
then help me to wait for the crop’s maximum yield.

© Mark Bryant 28 May 2019
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Ruth Chapter 3, with focus on verse 1b –
…I must find a home for you, where you will be well provided for.

Is it timing? Is it coincidence?
Planets aligning or Divine Providence?
For the undeserving to find such favour?
To find preserving from an unexpected Saviour?
For hunger to be subsided and honour be savin’?
For steps to be guided to provide safe haven?
It must be more than something just random,
as blessing does fall, like someone has planned them.

I know what happens next in the story,
but in the present, the unknown hides the glory.
We see what’s been done before, in heart can be done again
and it’s these old-school rhymes that on which I depend,
‘cos right now, my life seems really outta left-field.
A barren season of sorts, with limited harvest yield.
The sun’s shining down, ground water is seeping
through the ground that’s been ploughed. I feel ready for reaping.

The months tick over, and the seasons change.
Lord of the Harvest, please arrange
my coming and going, and what I need to do next
‘cos I really want You, and what is the best.

© Mark Bryant 27 May 2019
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Ruth 2
Ruth gathers in Boaz’ field.

Sown in sorrow,
The past seasons have not been kind.
Bitterness, pain, all linked and intertwined.
No hope for tomorrow.

Change of venue.
The famine of home has now passed.
I’ll return in mourning and die at last.
Same old menu.

Hopeless tears.
Nothing can erase my pain.
I’ve given up. Don’t bother to strain.
No new fears.

Behind the scenes,
the barley harvest has just begun.
Annual, regular, not really fun.
Ends of a means.

Supernatural.
This harvest is going to bring such surprise -
a joy that will banish tears from your eyes.
Hindsight proving factual.

Moral is this.
God’s work and plan happens in the everyday
and how he breaks through blows the husks away.
Miracles are His.

© Mark Bryant 26 May 2019
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Ruth 1
Naomi returns to Bethlehem with Ruth.

Oceans.
Stacking of stones.
Salty air in my hair.
Pounding waves.
Sand between my toes.
Loving conversations.
All good for my bones.

Today I had the choice to stay in bed
or take a 5 minute walk instead.
To listen to the old-school rhymes berating my mind
or experience the rhythm of water and time.

It took effort, but there was no condemnation.
Either action was seasoned with grace,
but to take the opportunity to live a different aspect of life
briefly cut through my brain-fog like a knife

And now, the brief solitude as I sit around an empty table
on a patio, as the ink runs out
I made the best choice, no doubt.

© Mark Bryant 25 May 2019
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