poor man

I close today, and I turn my wonders to You, God.

For You have searched me Lord, and You know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; You perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; You are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue Lord, You know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and You lay Your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; too lofty for me to attain.

Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? If I go up to the heavens, You are there; if I make my bed in the depths, You are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will be, Your hand to hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” Even the darkness will not be dark to You; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to You.

You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are Your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand— when I awake, I am still with You.

When I awake, I am still with You.

It is not History that keeps us talking about Jesus. He did not leave a great legacy of wealth or property. No possessions rested on Mary’s mantle after his passing. He did not conquer great and wild lands, nor did He leave a lineage of kings to rule after He was gone.

There is an old Clayton Family Motto and it states, “Probity rather than riches.” I could tell you how true this statement has been for my family these last few years but I wouldn’t be exercising the integrity in those words.

Simply put, what grounds us; keeps us standing tall. For Me and my family, for You and yours, for Us together in accordance with His Word; This King has left a legacy of Love. And it is that Love that keeps us talking, that keeps us doing.

I've heard that 'pride' is the fall of man. But when I catch my dad looking proud as he's watching my brother speak his vows, I can't help but also be proud.

I'm proud to have a dad who took his time and made it mine. I'm proud to have learned humility from him. Proud to have been shown grace and love. I'm proud to have learned that forgiveness is free; never earned.

It seems to me that the best men are proud. Not 'proud' of merit or any accomplishment, but 'proud' in the sense of awareness and care; putting others first. It's a 'proud to know you' kind of pride. It's the type of pride that both earns and commands respect. It calls him to keep his word. It calls him to not sit idle when he is needed. It calls him to love my mom, still with sweet nothings after 30 years. It calls him and he answers. Where an arrogant man might fade and become less relevant over time, this 'pride' calls my dad to stand tall and last.

lifting spirit from muddy hollow,

our hardy hearts forget.

once filled with mass and marrow,

now they hollowly sit

i'm here! i'm here! i'd call to you-

now sleepily sulking in morning dew.

oh, how to reach what is made new?

oh, how to reach what is made in you?

forever parted by scowl and fire,

my bitterness ended with redemptive desire.

take me now, to lofty place-

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o’er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too:

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—-and not make dreams your master;

If you can think—-and not make thoughts your aim,

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same:.

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings,

And never breathe a word about your loss:

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings—-nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much:

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,