The Ocean

“The Four Winds Lighthouse was built on a spur of red sandstone cliff jutting out into the gulf. On one side, across the channel, stretched the silvery sand shore of the bar; on the other, extended a long, curving beach of red cliffs, rising steeply from the pebbled coves. It was a shore that knew the magic and mystery of storm and star. There is a great solitude about such a shore. The woods are never solitary—they are full of whispering, beckoning, friendly life. But the sea is a mighty soul, forever moaning of some great unshareable sorrow, which shuts itself up into itself for all eternity. We can never pierce its infinite mystery—we may only wander, awed and spell-bound, on the outer fringe of it. The woods call to us with a hundred voices, but the sea has only one—a mighty voice that drowns our souls in its majestic music. The woods are human, but the sea is of the company of archangels.”
--L.M. Montgomery: “Anne’s House of Dreams”

Stepping Heavenward

I’m sitting here pondering
Life…oh, this thing we call life.
How can we measure it
As it spreads across time

There’s no way to know it
Only uncertainty is clear.
It seems we can't understand
Our own reflections in the mirror

Those sands of time keep on shifting,
Patterns of change push us on.
But towards what? Towards whom?
Will the pain be short or long?

As we’re herded along,
Marched onward by time,
One step, then the next
With hardly reason or rhyme

There are those moments
When we must sink to the ground,
Lift up our tear stained faces,
And ask the sky out loud:

How can we grasp in our fingers
The memories we can’t let slip,
While still being ready
For the road’s next curve or dip?

How can we truly love
Those who can't seem to love us?
Can we give from a heart
That knows only mistrust?

How can we be certain
Of decisions good, pure, and right
Is there a way to be sure
Our emotions stay true to light?

How can we really prepare
For what life throws at us next
Will I crumble, will I fail
Will I live up to my best?

I think of heaven sometimes,
When I'm tired of pain and toil,
And I slowly feel my soul
As it begins to unwind, uncoil

I imagine a place
Where beauty abounds,
The heart rests at peace
It sings its joys aloud

I imagine a place
Where all ugliness and strife
Melts away so simply
The many sorrows of life

I imagine a place
Full to the brim with love
So that I’m utterly fulfilled,
Content, and lacking none

I imagine a light
That fiercely illuminates all
So that evil’s not a thought
And I can’t ever fall

To think of this place
Is to bring beauty to our days
It reminds us of a light
That guides us on our way

Yes, time keeps us moving
But not towards what’s unknown
We step always heavenward
As we press on, we’re not alone.


"I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.
All of us who are mature should take such a view of things. And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you. Only let us live up to what we have already attained. Join with others in following my example, brothers, and take note of those who live according to the pattern we gave you. For, as I have often told you before and now say again even with tears, many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame. Their mind is on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body."
Phil. 3:14-20