Over six hundred years ago Thomas a Kempis wrote (in Latin of course!)
The holy men and women,
their earthly struggle o’er
with joy put off the armour
that they shall need no more;
For these and all that battled
beneath their Monarch’s eyes,
the harder was the conflict
the brighter is the prize.
We are posting this track from Connections primarily in honour of Keith Entwistle, percussionist, prophet and painter who played with Linda in Epiphany – who wrote this beautiful piece of music, as well as Noel Pyatt, who is now in a hospice on palliative care.
Linda wrote the beautiful music. We also offer the words on behalf on whoever the Lord leads you to remember. His links and connections are endlessly creative, crossing man made boundaries and generations alike!
The roll call grows
of those whose blood no longer flows
and who have moved on to higher things.
I thank and praise You, Lord,
for the memory of those heroic ones
who have passed at last
beyond the ravages of time and dust
to take their place
in the great communion of saints.
May we play our part now to the full,
so that we ourselves will be no less
when our time comes.
Lord God of History,
Author of all Mystery,
How fiercely the enemy seeks like to smother
the wisdom of every other time,
so that each generation struggles up the climb,
unable to perceive the clear connections
that deeper reflections would bestow.
Lord, hold our spirits fast
to lessons from the past,
and then display true skill
to implement Your will.
God of our fathers,
those pioneers and settlers,
conquerors and seers,
when my lens is true
I can begin to view
the links and patterns
that perpetuate Your blessing
as well as those that cause such strife in my life;
strong invisible threads
that Heavenly hands have meshed together
but which fleshly fingers seek to pull asunder,
and demonic claws to shred.
Free us from the deadweight of diseased inheritance,
So that we, Your beloveds, can inherit
the blessings bestowed in prayer
by those who learned to weep.
God of History,
when I am feeling daunted and taunted
and inclined to snap,
help me call to mind
the memory of Your many past deliverances,
and to trust that You will do the same
with the seeds I give you now.
God of explanation,
drop Your plumb line and open wide
the lens that reveals our hidden pride,
and the weaknesses that are our special temptation.
Then let the searchlight of Your love
enable us to face our deep seated dissonance
so that we may shine like the brightest stars
and rise above our ever present scars.
To those that are crying out for Grace
be assured there is no doubt in heaven.
No lessening of God’s seventy times seven.
You are indeed the God of the 2nd, 3rd and 30th chance.
But we cannot ask You to re-strand and re-launch our lives
unless we are willing to allow You
to apply Your lance
and resist all backward glance.