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Who is sufficient for these things? 2 Cor. ii. 16.

O Comfort from the Lord,
Who all his depths declares,
Who plants in us the living word
And girds our prayers:
For thorns and flaming darts,
Be all sufficiency,
And unto glory seal our hearts
As guarantee.

O Wisdom from on high,
Who sojourned here below
And intercedes unceasingly
In us to grow:
Guide every step we take,
Watch o’er us while we sleep,
And still be with us when we wake
To converse keep.

O Patriarch of Lights,
In constance shining e’er,
Who every blessing in the heights
Dost freely share,
Predestining in love,
Adopting by thy grace:
We lift our eyes to thee above
With fear and praise.

—10/20/25. To “Leoni” (“The God of Abraham Praise”).

Vineyard Cycle (Imperfect)

I. Isaiah v. 1–4

A ballad let me sing for my beloved,
Who had a vineyard on a fertile slope,
Who cleared and dug and watered with the hope
That vintage fine to flourish would be moved.
He built a tow’r amid the trellises;
Under its shade a vat and press he hewed;
Thus in his former wilderness he would
Enjoy the fruit of all he toiled to dress,
But lo! no sweet it yielded, only sour.
Now judge ye for my love between his plot:
What untried care remained within his pow’r?
What else could he have done that he did not?
O men of Judah and Jerusalem,
Why only wildness hath he got of them?


II. Isaiah v. 5–7 ; Hosea xi. 8–9

Hear ye my love declare that he intends
His faithless arbor not with love to prune,
Its hedge with fire and grazing to consume,
Its wall against with trampling to contemn,
To lay it waste, be neither dressed nor hoed,
But thorns and briers on its frames be grown,
And barren clouds with nothing wilt the ground,
Since it with holiness be unendued.
And yet, love’s fire declares— and yet— and yet—
How can I hand them over to their fate?
How can I give them all they ought to get?
Am I not greater than their sin is great?
O men of Israel and Ephraim,
How can I make a perfect end of them?


III. Psalm lxxx. 8–11, 14–19

My Lord, my love, a vine thou drewest out
Of nations, planted, tended, and you bade
The tree-lined mounts find respite in her shade
And Sea and River stand her twinned redoubt.
Look down from heaven, God of hosts, and see
The fiery waste wherein thy vineyard lies,
How by th’ Accuser’s sword thy planting dies,
And how, great God, by this he spits at thee.
Have pity on thy bruised and smoking stem,
And gird the holy Son in perfect might;
To green abundance resurrect thou them;
Thy hand be on the man upon thy right.
O son of God and yet the son of man,
Shine on us, save us, for thou only can.

—Completed 10/9/25

Mortifying Sin

The LORD has said that he would dwell in thick darkness. 2 Chron. vi. 1.

“God has said in shadow clouded
He will dwell,” all else apart,
From the dark by darkness shrouded,
And in such has lain my heart,
Yet thy glory’s pillar, blazing
Like the first Creation morn,
Shines within, my spirit raising:
“Let there be” the dead reborn.

When the Adversary’s temptrance
Lies in wait to lead astray,
Grant us easy, quick repentance
To regain thy narrow way,
Till our heart and soul and vigor
Join in glorified accord,
Freed from flesh-restraining rigor,
To enjoy thee as their Lord.

Gracious Spirit, our salvation
Keep till grace’s work is done;
Let us fear no condemnation
As we live within the Son;
Bid us seek the Father’s glory
Till to glory we draw nigh,
Where our endless, laudatory
Song will praise thee, Lord on high.

—To Nettleton (“Come, Thou Fount”).

Meditations: September 2025

The Lord has said that he would dwell in thick darkness,
And such is my heart:
The thick darkness in which he dwells.
His mercies are new every morning;
One morning, his mercies will not need to be new.
That day will never end.

(2 Chron 6:1; Lam 3:22-23; Rev 21:25)

That is actually the last, chronologically, of the meditations below, but it is a wonderful summary of my month.

Teach me, my Savior, how to set mine eyes
Above, nor aim at any earthly prize,
But on thy cross and throne my gaze be fix’d,
Ev’ry affection bent t’ward thee, unmix’d,
So I would set my steps to then be most
To workings of thy Spirit unoppos’d,
As love and joy and peace and patience be
With ev’ry other fruit matur’d in me,
Until thou liftest up this childish frame
Unto thy Father’s side and thine, thy name—
The threefold Name that yet resolves as one—
To praise, and too the vict’ry thou hast won
O’er sin and death and me. My being cries,
O teach me, Savior, how to set mine eyes.

—On Colossians 3:1-2. Completed 9/29/25.

Anxiety's Resolution

I do not know what I shall be
Within a day or month or year
But trust my Lord’s authority
O’er everything that meets me here.

I know too well what I would be
Hadst thou not freely saved my soul,
So I commit mine all to thee;
Until thou come, sir, keep it whole.

I’ve tasted, too, what I can be
When from thy providence I stray,
So give me grace to trust in thee
To straighten out mine every way.

I thank you, Lord, that I have been
An anxious fool, yet still may find
Forgiveness for this silly sin
And trade it for your peace of mind.

I cannot fathom what I’ll be,
O Savior, when at last by grace,
My faith ensightened, I can see
And mirror thy most holy face.

Anxiety's Confession

I do not know what I shall be
Within a year, or month, or day;
Thy will, my Lord, I cannot see;
I know not how to make my way.

I do not know what I shall be
But fear thy Spirit might not guide
Me out of my iniquity
Or to the goodness at thy side.

I do not know what I shall be
If more by faith than sight I move
But know that my anxiety
Doth not my Master fear nor love.

So teach me what I ought to be:
A creature, who cannot command
The rains or snows to fall, like thee,
But waits, my Father, for thy hand.

I do not know what I shall be,
O Savior, when at last by grace,
Mine eyes enlightened, I shall see
And mirror thy most holy face.

Meditations: August 2025

Three things sing to their maker;
Four lift their voice to heaven:
The songbird lauds at morning
When he wakes to your beauty;
The cicada chants antiphon all afternoon,
Calling to you for his mate;
The coyote cries at night
Till you satisfy him with food;
And the lips of your servants praise
As they wait for you.

(In the style of Prov 30.)

My soul is very sorrowful, even to death.
My Lord, remain here and watch over me,
Far better than I have waited for you.

(Matt 26:28)

Just across this wilderness,
Is my loving Master, who
Momentary, light distress
Bids me pass and join him through.
Though it is a burning waste,
I will limp to him in haste.

Just across this raging sea
Walks my Lord upon the main,
To his side commanding me,
Saving when I sink again.
When most sorely waves distress,
Then his hand is mightiest.

Just upon this wooden cross
Where my Savior hung for sin,
I will suffer every loss,
Only let me live with him.
Though my spirit waste away,
He will raise it day by day.

Just across eternity
Lies eternity beyond,
Passing all hyperbole
With the glory therein found.
Though my weeping spend the night,
Joy will dawn in boundless light.

—8/24/25

Meditations: July 2025

Lord, you are a good father:
To none who asks for bread do you give stones;
You do not give a serpent for fish.
Am I allowed to pray like I’m five?
In childish exactness, with absurd expectation?
Be pleased to answer ridiculous petitions;
Nevertheless, not my will but yours be done.

(Matt 7:9-11; Luke 11:5-8; Luke 22:42)