Robbing God

8 Will a mere mortal rob the Lord? Yet you
Rob me. But you ask, “How do we rob you?”
“In tithes and offerings. 9 You are beneath

A curse, your entire nation, for you rob
Me. 10 Bring the entire tithe into the storehouse,
So that my house may have some food, and test

Me in this,” says the Lord Almighty, “see
If I won’t open heaven’s floodgates and
Pour so much blessing out that you will not

Have room enough to store it. 11 I’ll prevent
Pests from devouring crops, and vines within
Your fields won’t drop their fruit before it’s ripe,”

The Lord Almighty says. 12 “All nations then
Will call you blessed, for yours will be a land
That is delightful,” says the Lord Almighty.

~Malachi 3:8-12


This is the only place in the Holy Bible that the Lord asks us to test him.

He tells us to tithe (give ten percent to the church) and that he will bless us.

Rev. Billy Graham said, “You can’t outgive God. Try it and see.”

Tithing is counter-intuitive, yet it is God’s way, so it works.

Tormented Soldier

Tormented Soldier

They say to turn your heart to Jesus
I don’t know that I will
How can the Son of God love me
With so many I have killed?

I took the lives of better men
Much better than myself
Blood spattered on my nose and cheeks
The rest I will not tell

How can the Lord God love a man
Who killed men in their fields,
Left their corpses for the birds
And boasted, they’d be meals?

My heart is blackest airless space
Like on a moonless night
Where the Lord God can’t see my face
And I can’t see His light

Lonely as the desert owl
I’m bruised and cut and scraped
How can Creation’s King forgive me
For the women I have raped?

And when the war zone grew intense
I fought them, cougar–wild
And I confess-repent to God:
I brutalized a child

I can’t escape the flames of hell
I’m destined for the fire
God knows my dirty words and deeds,
The ways I quenched desire

No grace on earth is large enough
To heal my beating heart
I war against my soul and flesh–
If only I could part

And face the face of God Himself,
Ask why He sent His Son
To perish for this wretched race
Which sheds men’s blood with guns

I’d say, “You made a big mistake
To send your Son for us,
We wretches with our blackened hearts—
We’re worms, we’re less than dust.”

He spoke, and a dove flew down
And landed on his head
The light rays flickered through the clouds
And he felt he was dead

When wind blew softly on his cheek
And lofty trees leaned near
Leaves fluttered by a creek
And the deep blue sky turned clear.

~Day Williams

Veterans’ Suicide Prevention:

The rush and roar . . .

The rush and roar . . .

The rush and roar of waves breaking the shore,
The golden leaves that drop to ground in fall,
Clean air that whooshes through the nose and pores–
Against delights like these you might seem small,

Except you hold the world between your palms,
Preserving love, the treasure of the heart.
You bless the man who gives his neighbor alms
And shape our brotherhood past highest art.

In telling wealthy men to give to poor,
In curing men mad, crippled, deaf and blind,
In taking seven loaves, making them more,
You show the best of human heart and mind.

Your Father’s granted you the perfect power
To bring good news and love to us each hour.

~Day Williams