The Sun

        The other night I began writing this poem, not even thinking about how tomorrow is Halloween. But as I wrote it, I was reminded of the darkness of this age and Christ's victory of sin. Halloween is such a demonic holiday (if I can call it that), and I hope you will reconsider your possible usual "festivities." As Christians, we do not want to have any part with the Devil. "For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ" (2 Corinthians 4:6). 

The sun was a golden, yellow ball,

Shining like Versailles, shimmering hall,

Through tall mighty oaks it shone

That all might know and be known.

But some, on dark, cold ground they stayed;

To not be seen, they hoped, they prayed.

Working dark works behind every log,

Always hoping for dark of night or fog.

They tried to trap walkers of the light,

And quickly many gave up the fight.

So bright the sun, it hurt their eyes,

They quickly turned to dark and shadowy lies.

But that glorious, bright-shining Son

Shone His showing light on every one;

He knew their dark path and sinful way,

For He had made them all from His own clay.

And that great Son, in all His splendor,

Had great love and mercy so tender,

That on a mighty oak He had made to grow,

He died Himself, His great love to show.

Then rising from the dark of the night,

The Son shone brighter than all other light.

Many dark workers were saved one by one

By the undefeatable work of the Son.

~Elisabeth~

Picture by my sister Priscilla.