“I have heard.”

With his head bent down his eyes
Were locked upon the screen, Despite
The hour, far too late for most.
As a guard might keep his post
With bright eyes, and attentive mind
He was alert, and felt a kind
Of unmistakable unrest.
The study of the word, the chest
Of treasures giv’n by the Lord
Was all this young man hungered for.

A single lamp with golden light
Shed just enough for human sight
To recognize the forms of words
And in the silence, he whispered
Them to himself. So deep
And meaningful. He’d reap
As much as he could of this truth.
Wisdom is not barred from youth,
Was what he thought when he first turned
His quiet times to lessons learned.

The last four years were years of change
Both great and small. Great in that stage
Where faith is stripped of all pretense
And discipleship is made intense
By reconstructing frames of life
From pagan forms to forms of Christ.
And also small in that one sense
where things, mundane, are reassessed
to realign to Scriptures scale
or be discarded if they fail.

The years that passed were not without
Its share of griefs and tears. About
Two years ago he walked a road
That he believed was all he’d know
For all the years to come. Who knew
That God would break his heart. And through
The brokeness show him his hope
Had gone beyond the holy scope
Of Jesus Christ. No other stone
Could be his base. He stands alone.
The Holy Son, amidst the shards
Of dreams once gods, now dust.

Apart
From all the pain he felt,
He knew that still his soul was well.
And from that sad and desperate stand.
He made his peace with God’s great hand
Of love and wisdom. There he stood
Before the seat of Sovereign good.
And from that point theology
Became far more than knowledge. He
Saw how the truth could truly be
So deep in its reality.
That he should make his sole delight
The Lord was simple in his mind
But when it came to crushing blows
Where treasures of his heart were thrown
Into the purifying fire
Of God’s decree. His true desire
was there laid bare, a clear display
by means of God’s relentless Grace.

Now sitting there he read the Word
While not a single sound was heard
above the turning pages and
The tapping of his fingers. Hand
Upon his chin his mind was full
Of thoughts and hopes, the pull
Of heaven and of holy dreams
Filling him with living streams.
And in the quiet of his room,
While thousands slept, as though in tombs.
This man walked in truth, set free
From every bond, captivity
Was in the past. Because
Of Jesus cross. He was
Delivered now From death and hell
And hopeless striving’s cursed spell,
And also from the fear of loss
And sorrow from the fullest cost
Of giving all to gain but Him
By finding there, Joy infinite.

The highest love and brightest light
Has shone upon the weary plight
Of grieving Christians everywhere.
God yet has gracious good to spare
For his dear children. I am one.
Every battle has been won.
Yes, Fighting now, though sitting still.
By letting Truth, from His word spill
Upon the anxious thoughts and fears
And overwhelming sorrows tears
by pouring joy through blissful hope
That while in darkness now I grope
For answers I will one day touch
The face of God, it is too much
For me to dream yes, even now
When I have yet to die. The crown
Of righteousness is mine
If I refuse to here repine
Before my time on earth is gone.
God be my strength and grace beyond
my wildest dreams. my confidence
in Scripture gives my soul a sense
of greater truths and greater bliss
For One alone do I exist.
All life and joy are in your Word.
I have believed, and I have heard.