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10 Apr 2020

The Cross

Even during this worldwide calamity, we can take hope that there is peace from the comforter of the universe. This was accomplished through the death, burial and the resurrection of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. The following is my interpretation of those events on the first Easter weekend.

Conversation at the Cross

The suffering unfolds at that ultimate place where the condemned are sent for reckoning. Spread across the hill, three crosses are embedded. Execution awaits by official decree. The crosses prolong the agony.

An angry mob surrounds the three crosses, gawking at those who await their fate. Covert friends intermingle with thrill-seekers. Conflicting points of view become manifest. Conversation at the cross begins.

Arrogance remains openly defiant, returning verbal assaults to the hostile masses.The anger and pain notwithstanding, he addresses his cursing to Mercy. In response, Mercy beseeches Unseen.

Seeking Forgiveness counters to Arrogance, “Your foolish outburst has overcome your sanity. You have no decency! No decency! Judging of our deeds is truthful. Mercy’s condemnation is undeserved.”

Seeking Forgiveness cries out to Mercy, pleading a sympathetic desire for remembrance. Mercy grants his plea for sanctuary. Desiring a perfect destination for both, Mercy presents Himself finally to Unseen.

Conversation at the cross is ended. Apprehension envelops the onlookers. Fear is rampant, anxiety builds, remorse sets in. Innocence is proclaimed by centurions. Mercy is sacrificed, the Cross-is finished.

Imagine if you were an actual witness to the crucifixion of Christ.

Witness

Sounds of cursing and anger fill the air.
And yet, He groans quietly.
The burden on His shoulders grows heavy
As He walks, stooped over slightly.

The flesh on His back… lay bare by the whip,
And His feet have swollen as well.
His vision is blurred by sweat mixed with blood.
He stumbled…and He fell.

The soldiers’ authority commands fear.
One man is conscripted for use.
“Carry the beam!” they directed the man.
For the young one is weak from abuse.

The young man moves slowly, climbing the hill.
His condition prevents a fast pace.
People are gathering to witness this scene,
For there’s something peculiar about this place.

I sense something special about this young man.
He seems so confident in His fate.
But others about Him don’t seem to care,
For they scorn Him and verbalize hate.

The instrument of death is placed on the ground.
The young man is secured to the post.
Spikes penetrate His hands… and His feet…
The soldiers stand back and boast.

clouds grow dark and they cover the sun,
Thunder breaks loudly and clear.
The ground begins cracking and groaning,
And the people who’ve gathered begin to fear.

In a loud voice, I hear Him cry out
In a language, I don’t understand.
Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani,*
There’s something unusual about this man…

His death is complete and His body’s removed,
He’s placed in a borrowed tomb.
Grief and sadness overcome His friends
As they endure this period of gloom.

And now! It’s the third day! His body isn’t here!
The story He told, really is true!
He died for atonement, was buried for sin,
Resurrected… for life anew.

I witness this scene as though I were there,
For it’s embedded completely in mind.
How Jesus… suffered and died,
Was raised, giving life for His kind.

Pete Robertson
© 1992

*Mark 15:34 NASB

I hope you have an amazing Easter celebration. May God bless your family during this crisis.

Posted in Poems, Retro and tagged Christ, Christian, Crucifixion, Easter, Family, Good Friday, Home, Poetry, Resurrection

05 Apr 2020

What Happened on Palm Sunday?

Today begins what Christians call Holy Week. It is the week leading up to the Crucifixion of Christ and His resurrection. This gives cause for reflection of our own life, or at least it does for me. Put your mind in the mind of the owner of that donkey. Perhaps it could have been as told here.

So, What’s Your Donkey?

Jesus rode into Jerusalem on what we now call Palm Sunday; palm branches, which symbolize triumph or victory, were strewn in Jesus’ path, as He rode into the city. He rode into town on a humble donkey, fulfilling the prophecy in Zechariah 9:9: “Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your kings comes to you, righteous and victorious, low and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

“You don’t know me. You’ve never heard my name. It isn’t important. But you know my donkey. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. You know, the donkey that Jesus rode into Jerusalem with on that day He made his triumphal entry? Yeah, that donkey. Well, I was the guy with the donkey. I’m the guy who was living in Bethphage. The guy who was walking home from the market that day, only to see two men untying my young donkey and her mother. I couldn’t believe I was getting ripped off! Bethphage had been such a quiet town. This was our first donkey-jacking! I ran and called out, “Why are you untying those donkeys? I remember it like it was yesterday: the two men called back, ‘The Lord needs them!

That answer stopped me cold………

Normally, I liked to keep my animals for myself. But for some reason, I couldn’t argue. Two guys I have never seen are taking my donkeys away. But the LORD needs them. They’re just plain old donkeys. But if the Lord needs them, well then, the Lord can have them!

So, I waved good bye! I never would’ve guessed that my generosity would be used for such a noble purpose! I never would’ve guessed that GOD was going to ride my humble donkey! But that day was a life-changing day for me.

We followed these men back to their little group. We saw them cover my donkey with their cloaks, and watched Jesus get on this young donkey that had never been ridden. We followed the crowd into Jerusalem and helped make a road for the Lord with our cloaks and branches we cut from trees. We wanted to let everyone know that someone important was coming to Jerusalem!

We hailed this man as a King! But not just a King. The Messiah! The Chosen, the Promised One who would come from the family of David! The One who was coming to save us!

We didn’t understand everything that day, but it turned out this was the man that God sent to save us! This was God’s own Son. Who loved us enough to come and ride my humble little donkey into a city where He knew He would suffer and die. Later that week, his journey into Jerusalem ended on a cross. Where He took my sins and yours, and let Himself be punished for them. Yes, He saved us alright. Sunday morning proved it! He walked out of his tomb! A conquering, victorious King! Friends, I can’t tell you how honored I am to have been given the chance to let Jesus use my donkey to take his Kingdom forward a few more steps. I’m thankful I had the chance to serve our Lord in such a little way. So what’s your donkey? What do you have to give to Him?

Posted in Stories and tagged Animals, Christian, Inspiration, Life, Palm Sunday, Prophecy, Relationships | Leave a comment

20 Dec 2017

From the Highest of Heavens

Some say we are in the Christmas season, but I say, God is never out of season. People sometimes take Him out of their box in December, put Him back in the box in January and leave Him there until Easter.
This is the reminder… as we celebrate the birth of Christ with family and friends; let us also take the time to reflect on our worship of Him throughout the year.

“From The Highest of Heavens”

“The one who comes from above is above all; the one who is from the earth belongs to the earth, and speaks as one from the earth. The one who comes from heaven is above all”. John 3:31
“And the Lord God Almighty said, “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are too small to be among the army groups from Judah, from you will come one who will rule Israel for me. He comes from very old times, from days long ago.” Micah 5:2

In the highest of heavens,
Even, the heavens above the heavens,
The Most High sits on the glorious throne of the
Lord God Almighty.
In the beginning and from your splendid throne,
You Were…
Before the equation of time became measurable,
You were God…
Before the flawless design of endless space
You existed…
Before cosmic matter came into being
You were present…
Before God-breathed humanity was fashioned
You were…
Even before nothing …
You were…

And even before all of this, my name…,
MY NAME…! was on your lips,
And my soul… MY SOUL! was on your mind.
Love for me… was in your heart, because,
You Were…

And in that highest of heavens,
at your right hand sat your Son, Jesus,
with the Plan for my soul.
—You whispered my name, He said, “I’ll go!”

Then from that highest of heavens,
Down through the endless space,
in His measured time,
Brushing aside celestial spaces to
save humanity as the True Light…
In flesh…,through a virgin birth, He came…

And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth John 1:14

Here in the month of December, we celebrate the physical birth of the Lord Jesus Christ. But today isn’t His birthday, and neither is December the 25th. For we celebrate not the day He came, but that He Came. Some ask, was it real? I say, my friends, yes, His Birth was indeed real. He is real.
Can you imagine God whispering to Jesus, the names of everyone ever created in His image? Even before the world existed?…

God whispered your name…
Then He came…

Posted in Poems, Stories and tagged Christ, Christian, Christmas, Home, humanity, Inspiration, Life, Poetry, Relationships, space, Theology | Leave a comment

23 Dec 2016

1 Comment

Is It Christmas Yet?

Ever have that feeling about not wanting to get up in the morning? One day this past week, it was my desire to stay in bed a little longer than usual. But we have animals to take care of and they usually do not want to stay in bed. The dogs in the kennels do not seem to mind the cold or that it finally warmed up. And the chickens could care less. They are ready no matter what. The humans, not so much! So out of the warm bed I arise. I stumble to the kitchen, turn the switch on for the coffee pot, (the “Rancherette” is sweet enough to prepare the ingredients the night before), put on my long johns and make ready to placate the aforementioned animals. I do insist on having a steaming cup of coffee before I brave the elements.

Having a touch of the “I don’t wanna’s” this morning, I slowly began to move around. I am feeling the effects of a cold I contracted from a recent chicken show we attended in Shawnee, Oklahoma. Then, the “Rancherette” comes bouncing from the bedroom full of vim and vigor. She wonders, “How are you feeling?” I mumble “OK”. Probably, not too convincingly I might add.

So after my jolt of caffeine, I make my way to the dog kennels. Recently, the morning temps fell down into the upper teens, and with that, their water dishes turn to ice. This was my first clue that winter is approaching. With the dogs fed, ice in their water broken and fully attended to, I turn my attention to appeasing the chickens. Ever try to appease a chicken? Good luck with that. The “Rancherette” usually comes along to save the day. She definitely knows how to appease a chicken. She is in the chicken appeasement business. I’m not sure but I think they understand the “bach,bach,bach” of my voice and I am convinced they really know what the “Rancherette” says. I am pretty sure she understands what they say, too. Me? I don’t think so. Now when it comes to the dogs, I am much more enlightened by their “voices”. I fully understand them. I speak dog, fluently. I practice every day. However, one could possibly acquire some of the characteristics of these fine feathered fowl (maybe osmosis). For example, I catch myself crowing on occasion. Nothing out of the ordinary, that is until they crow in return. Scary!

For those of you who do not know, the “Rancherette” raises show chickens. Silkies and Bantam Cochins are her favorite breeds.Both breeds are also very funny birds. Most of these birds have names, such as Mick (after Mick Jagger) Bella, Cowboy, Cowgirl, Smoky Bear, Miss Peggy, (she has a peg leg) and so on. Thus one can become attached. (Her name shall remain anonymous).

However, when it comes to our kennel dogs, that’s another story. They are retired show dogs, from the Standard Poodle line, living out their retirement days. Apollo, Ty, Denali, Grendel, Prada, Andora, Stella, and so on. They all have a very extended name, fitting the royalty of the breed, but way to much for this post.Then there is Alfie, a hitchhiking female Airedale. “nuff, said.

.So I am up and “at’em” this morning. This Christmas Eve, Eve! Got all my presents wrapped for the “Rancherette” and placed in a conspicuous space where she cannot miss them and this in turn tempts her a bit. No shaking the packages or X-rays allowed. This is premeditated on my part. Now that the gifting is completed (and a day early, I might add), I turn my attention to checking my social media pages.

I see numerous and varied accounts of people and their activities on social media pages. Hidden among the many postings, I see some with treasured memories of years past. For others it brings sadness and a dread this time of year. Still others delight in the many celebratory events of Christmas.

I see posts from a varied assortment of people, from my friends and others I do not know. First and foremost are the many varied posts from all of the chicken friends on social media. There is a considerable amount of “chicken speak” in these posts. (i.e., the “Rancherette”) I have not yet learned much of that language.

Then others are depicted wrapping Christmas gifts and sharing their experiences. Some are wondering if other family members will make it home for Christmas. Some are showing the results of a toy-drive for kids. There are pictures of children sharing their love through homemade Christmas gifts with nursing home residents. Some use the social media pages to outline their Christmas list. (Personally, I’m not sure this works well, but give them credit for ingenuity) Let me know if it does.

I see posts of young children sitting on the lap of Santa, some crying, some in awe and others readily sounding off their wish list. Obviously, they have all been good, wink, wink!

I see posts describing recipes for Christmas Delights and I admit they all look inviting. These are very interesting.

Then there are still a few who either challenge the presidential election results or laud the outcome. To these very involved people, I say, Merry Christmas to both groups.

The closer it gets to Christmas, the more posts we see about the event. Not all will be about a religious phenomenon and yet it is my opinion that it was never about a secular circumstance. It was and always will be a celebration of the birth of Christ, whether one chooses to believe that or not.

I find it fascinating that our animals depend on us for their survival while many humans do not depend on God for anything. In their own way, these animals say thanks every day, a tail wag here and a “bach,bach, there. Would it not be great if the human race could acknowledge a better understanding of peace and joy on this earth?

I grant you that we live in a free society and thus are completely free to agree or disagree. However, I for one am proud to say I believe the Biblical account of the Christ Child born for the salvation of mankind.

Thus I can say unequivocally,

Merry Christmas.

Posted in Stories and tagged chickens, Children, Christian, dogs, food, friends, Humor, Life, love, Memories, nature, Nostalgia, Relationships, spirituality, Texas

23 Jun 2016

3 Comments

Hunters and Gatherers

The old rancherwriterpoet has not been around lately. Maybe you noticed, maybe not. Medical circumstances have prevented this old drugstorecowboy/wannabe writer from some of his usual activities.

He has reached a point in his life that calls for a time of observation. For example, little things that originally had no clear-cut basis for consideration have now become seemingly a big deal. Discovering in these past few weeks, simple things I previously performed on a daily basis are not always easy tasks to perform. Sometimes, they become complicated, difficult, and even impossible.

In the earliest of days, eons ago, man was declared the hunter and woman was declared the gatherer. The roles of man and woman were clear. “Me Tarzan, you Jane” I am not making a judgment for or against that thought. I do not necessarily subscribe to the “me Tarzan, you Jane” setting, however, as a man, I have always felt I had a role to perform as a “hunter”. This was ingrained in me as a youngster. There were roles for the male and roles for the female. After all, boundaries were established and not to be crossed.

Well, that was then, this is now, and it never became clearer to me than in these past few weeks.

This “hunter” is here to tell you that in our household, the “gatherer” is perfectly capable of performing the tasks of not only her perceived responsibilities, but also those that I considered to be solely in my domain. In fact, she has stepped up the game. As I said, I am in a time of observation and I have observed the carpentry skills she has acquired, her chauffeuring ability, and her lawn maintenance proficiency. She has the leading role of managing the dogs, the chickens, the cooking, the grocery shopping, and auto upkeep and without a doubt the excellent care she affords the “hunter”. That only scratches the surface. Without the capable assistance of the “Rancherette” this old “Rancherwriterpoet” would have had a most difficult time.

I am making progress toward a time when this “hunter” can once again share in the family tasks alongside the “gatherer”. It will be a challenge, she is very good at what she does and I am so very grateful to her and to God for her.

Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes 4:9-10a that says:

“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor:If either of them falls down, one can help the other up…

I doubt Solomon wrote that with my circumstances in mind, but I claim it. I can say for certain, I am blessed.

Posted in Stories and tagged chickens, Christian, Cowboys, dogs, Home, Life, rancher, Rancherette, Relationships, writer

12 May 2016

2 Comments

Number 7

In the world of superstition, the numeral seven is often thought of as a “lucky” number. Fortunes have been won and lost by the use of that number in games of chance. I never considered myself as a “lucky” person. I have never won any sort of prizes or contests. Usually, I do not enter any type of sweepstakes or lotteries. I do recall winning a football pool once. I suppose that would have been “luck”. I hear people describe the results of winning as the “luck of the draw.” In illustrating a winner, one could say, “you lucky dog!” On embarking on a particular venture, “Best of Luck” sometimes is conveyed. A shared meal with a group is often explained as “Potluck”. It has been said, “with any luck…” and so forth. As you begin reading this you may have gotten the idea this is about luck, not necessarily so.

December 2008, I had an encounter in a Barnes and Noble bookstore with a wonderful woman. This changed my life. I have heard scenarios such as this described as a “chance” encounter. I disagree. It was anything but “chance”. “Chance” implies that some sort of luck was involved. I do not believe that to be the case. However, it may be possible to describe it as fate. I much prefer to say I was “blessed”.
When my eyes caught up with her eyes, I was hooked. As I stood there in the map section, (I love reading maps, educational, you know), and she in the romance section, it was a defining moment.

I, being the male species, made the first move. I probably should have spent more time in the romance section. Not being a teenager for a long time, I was rusty at this sort of thing. I invited her for a cup of coffee, Starbucks coffee. That stuff will get your blood pressure rising. Mine was already on the increase. We began a wonderful conversation. We shared our similarities. Amazing how much we discovered in common. This coffee shop was in the mall, thus we walked and spent time window-shopping. I recall she bought a set of coasters.

After a second cup of coffee, she with a double shot of espresso, (not me, I was already wired) we decided to take a walk through a local park. As we walked, we both knew this was a special moment in time. We were completely enjoying our time together, (except for the Pomeranian which was “bad luck”).

Finishing our day, we had lunch at On the Border Café. It seems that Mexican food is probably our most favorite meal. The time raced by. I did not want this day to end. Sadly, it did. However, it was the beginning of a very true romance, the kind you might read in the romance section at Barnes and Noble bookstore. I could see this coming back when I was in the map section.

May 15, 2016, we will celebrate our seventh wedding anniversary and counting. It is impossible to list all the wonderful experiences we have enjoyed over these past seven years.

So, through this brief article and very publicly, I am expressing my love for this woman, sometimes affectionately referred to as “The Rancherette”, but always my wife Jennifer. Happy Anniversary to my helpmate, my sweetheart, my constant companion, my soul mate and yes, my playmate. Come to think of it, maybe, I did get lucky after all. I know for sure I am blessed. The God of my beliefs put all this in motion and I am grateful. His plan is perfect, like the number 7.

To be continued:

Posted in Stories and tagged anniversary, Christian, Home, Life, marriage, Relationships

22 Mar 2016

Witness

As we near Easter Sunday, let us be reminded why we celebrate this day. It is a day of new beginnings, a day of remembrances and another opportunity to share that witness. As a writer, this is probably my favorite, at least in the top five. It dates back to 1992, however, the story line goes back to a most important time in the life of a Christian. I get goosebumps each time I read it. I sincerely hope you understand the true meaning of Easter as we celebrate life, both here and hereafter.