About A Nursing Father

 

About A Nursing Father

 

 

 

Who is perfect? I'm not perfect - although searching

 

the Law of God, the New Torah of Yeshua, from my youth

 

together with my relatives and ancestors.

 

 

 

Many persons and families in my pedigree, like many

 

others, were Roman-Catholic, but not all of them

 

some of them were Jewish, others were with

 

Bishop Wulfila, the translator of the Bible,

 

the 'secret' spiritual father of Germanic Europe.

 

And back in time in our family tree, other religions appear

 

like of course the religion of Odin

 

 who was the target of Wulfila and Queen Clotilde,

 

and Zoroastrianism and even Islam.

 

 

 

From the flabbergasting decision of the Goths

 

-big brothers of the constantly attacked Celts-

 

to become Roman-Catholic after defeating finally

 

the Roman Empire, to the Reformation, is

 

about 1000 years of twilight that shows

 

a well-constructed world view.

 

 

 

The Roman-Catholic clergy has been for centuries

 

the 'nursing father' of barbaric Europe.

 

However, there is one loving Papa Father, Abba God.

 

Father of "the Lamb of God Who takes away the sin of the world".

 

And praised be our Father.

 

 

 

On earth many so-called gods and seemingly powerful

 

 goddesses were worshiped when God sent His tongues of fire.

 

Demonic powers were defeated but superstition came

 

crawling in. Satan be gone, in Jesus' Name.

 

Angels can not compare with Jesus, nobody can be His equal,

 

only He is identical with fearsome God.

 

 

 

Nobles, not worthy their titles or fame

 

Simonized the Church with evil designs, they are to blame

 

Were they Christians at all, or slaves of the whoring ancient 'goddess'.

 

Until our generation, leaders who should be loving educators

 

Are sadly sodomizing many innocent ones.

 

Reports of this are like earthquakes undermining foundations

 

of our faith. Me too, I was not physically, but spiritually

 

damaged while visiting a monastery age 16, with school.

 

Holy Spirit, heal us who have ecclesiastical traumas.

 

So speak ye, and so do, as they that shall be judged by the law of liberty. James 2:12 KJV.

The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him, and said, “Behold! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! John 1: 29 NKJV.

The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly. John 10:10 NKJV.

 

Abigail Valkenburg, English,  March 4, 2023.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Poem: Thank You, Good Shepherd

 

Thank You, Good Shepherd

(Celebration in my town Ede)

 

Thinking about this summer,

I want to thank You Lord.

Many forests are on fire,

but our woods are still green,

and we celebrate our purple heather.

 

Horrible wars are going on

- Lord have mercy-

but peace is still here.

Missile strikes in Ukraine in our news,

-we hear in our prosperous town

as it were their distant sound-

but here is Your gracious joy.

 

Thank you Lord for some rest in my house,

And hope amidst creepy experiences.

Good Shepherd of my town,

Shine the light of powerful hope 

all over the earth.

 

Thank You Jesus, thank You Father,

thank You Spirit of God.

 

Let it be that the whole world be well aware

of the beauty of the salvation of Jerusalem.

 

 

My Poem: A Landscape: Meadows On The Water

A Landscape: Meadows On The Water

Peacefully I am listening to my piano,

my notes view out of the windows:

there are meadows on the water.

In those rusty fields children are playing

with little airplanes, yelling to the kids in the other section.

Spectators are standing next, watching the little giants.

They say: they are my offspring, some are.

Giving good advice to their sneakers.

Others point at the sun: look, it's red with those beautiful

purple and black flames! And cows are grazing in the sky,

eating the green clouds.

Close by a farmer called Lighthouse is standing on a lighthouse.

He waves of course with his handkerchief to the fisher boats:

"look! The firemen are extinguishing the bubbling water, there is fire

beneath, they assume. What are we going to do?"

A sick boy playing with the sun calls his dad: "my head, my head!"

His Abba trumpets the radiating farmer: "bring him to his mum,

the one with the azure shining dress.

He will be healed."

A Few Haikus

 

The Way of Winter

 

 

The Way of Winter

 

The sun is shining, weary of winter

I long for light and the colors of the coming

season, serve me more spring! The sooner

the better. The bitterness of evil episodes is

more difficult to deal with in deep darkness.

 

He went his way, one lick of lightning and

he has evanesced to elsewhere,

leaving me lonesome.

Silenced seems our fixed forecast

of heavenly hope. What happened here with

our constant calling out for God's grace,

for healing and wholeness. Are our dreams dead

or shall they show up to bloom like blossom

in the season of spring, magnifying the mercy

of the Loving Lord… to taste His truth?

 

Abigail Valkenburg

 

A Sonnet: Dead

Dead

       Done with You, done with You, done with You it was

       Done with dark feelings of despair and done it was

       Difficult it was, a mysterious difficulty to look like a cult like

       Demeanor. It was daunting. It was daunting oh my dove.

       It seemed dispiriting when Your spirit was gone, gone

       Is Your spirit. Your vision, Your viewpoint seems to diminish:

'Dusk has fallen already. Look, the sky is darkening, let's go home.

Enough for today, it's adequate that it's murky dark.'

Is the beloved dead in the dark? Or is the darkness death dead?

In obscurity, in swarthiness He leaves. Gone like a song in silence.

Gone last speckle of green light. We are waiting for daybreak

With a residue of despair. What have You done? Done with it.

The nights are mad... The nights are definitely made for dreams.

Forwarded. Undead. Delightful is Your conduct at dawn.

Abigail Valkenburg 

Descent from the Cross by Sir Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640), Antwerp

My Poem: My Final Words

My Final Words

To those who want to take my life

Who want to rip me of my ground

Who do not like my human brain

Oh, tuneless twist and lousy sound!

A sound of many words we've heard

With robust letters written down

The prophets books of law and love:

The King descending from above!

Descending in a Hebrew town

To sow, to see, to spread the Word

Evolve His love around the earth

Came round to love you too, on earth.

But no! You want to take our lives

Your hate was dozing for a while

Again, again it's bursting out!

Satanic lies equip a pile.

Because of Jesus I forgive

Your senseless threats, I love you still

With veils enveloped sisters too

A thrill of brotherhood I feel.

A message from our Lord: no fight!

But dare to dream a dream tonight!

A gentle gesture from above

Annul your hate, accept My love.

Abigail Valkenburg, June 12, 2019