The road behind is strewn with dust, Of dreams once bright, now turned to rust. But grace, not guilt, shall light my way— For I was never meant to stay.
The past may whisper, plead, or cry, But I lift my gaze toward the sky. Forgetting chains that held me fast, I walk unbound—no longer cast.
Each step, though weary, draws me near, To what is holy, pure, and clear. Not for this world’s fleeting gain, But for the crown that comes through pain.
The prize is Christ—my hope, my song, The call that pulls my heart along. I press ahead, through storm and fire, Fueled by a deeper, heaven-born desire.
No turning back, no pause, no end, Just faith in Him—my Lord, my Friend. For upward still my soul shall soar, To meet the One I’m striving for.
“I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:13–14 (NIV)
🎙️ For the Amateurs 🎙️ (A Poem on Solar Storms and Signal Loss)
They tune their dials with quiet care, And send their signals through the air. But high above, the heavens flare— And leave the bands in disrepair.
For when the Sun lets loose its might, With X-class flares that blaze so bright, The D-layer wakes in harsh alarm, And HF suffers sudden harm.
From 80 meters to ten and more, The signals vanish, mute and sore. On daylight’s side, the bands fall dead— As if the ionosphere had fled.
And in the north where cold winds roam, The polar paths are not a home. For charged particles flood the skies, And steal the sound from hams so wise.
Auroral curtains twist and dance, But give no signal a fair chance. Their glow may awe the earthly eye, But scatter voices as they fly.
CW and SSB may fail, Distorted like a ghostly wail. Yet Morse and FT8 push through— The hardy modes of just a few.
So hams take heart when signals fade, This too shall pass, though hopes be frayed. For skies that storm will calm once more, And DX calls will fill the floor.
Saints Can Not Live on Wine Alone (They Need the Lamb)
They gather ’round with lifted cup, The vintage rich, the vessel full Yet still the soul feels hunger deep, A quiet ache, a gentle pull.
For wine may warm the tongue and cheer, And momentarily dull the pain, But joy that lasts, that stills the storm, Is found not in the grape or grain.
The saints may sip from gilded glass, But thirst returns with every breath. Their strength comes not from vineyard rows, But from the Lamb who conquered death.
He bore the cross, He broke the bread, He poured His blood, the truest wine. He is the feast, the Living Word, The holy root, the sacred vine.
So let them taste, but not forget That heaven’s hope is not a toast It’s in the Lamb, once slain for all, Whose mercy means the very most.
Saints can not live on wine alone They need the Lamb upon the throne.
Jhn 6:35 And Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.
As a young boy, I dreamed wide and high, Built wings from wonder, carved clouds in the sky. My cockpit? A box with a broom for a blade, An ace of the air in the world I made.
I soared past rooftops, past worry and rain, Dodging the fire of enemy planes. With nerves of steel and a pilot’s grin, I always found a way to win.
Each dive and roll, each daring feat, Was powered by hope beneath small feet. To guard my home, to brave the storm, My cardboard plane became my form.
I came back home with wind-blown hair, A hero welcomed with trumpet flair. No medals pinned, just stars in my eyes No one but me knew I’d ruled the skies.
And now… I’m tired. The day is done. The race has faded with the setting sun. But even as this body lies, My soul prepares again to rise.
For sleep is just the hangar door To launch me into dreams once more. So tuck me in, don’t say goodbye I’ll wake and once again… Return to the sky.
Keep your eye on the Cross, where mercy was shown, Where the weight of our sins was carried alone. Not in anger, not wrath, but love pure and true He cried, “Forgive them, they know not what they do.”
Two hung beside Him, each facing the end, One mocked with pride, one called Him a Friend. With trembling voice and soul laid bare, A thief found grace hanging right there.
No time for good deeds, no long, righteous way, Yet Jesus declared, “You’ll be with Me today.” No works, no robe, no claim to defend Just faith in the Savior, and love without end.
But ponder this truth as your heart takes in view: The Man in the Middle died for me and for you. The Cross was the bridge, the pain was the price, And Heaven was opened through that sacrifice.
So when you feel lost, betrayed, or dismayed, Look up to the place where redemption was made. For the One in the middle, with thorns on His brow, Still says to the seeking, “You’re with Me now.”
Daily Devotional: Our Father Knows Best By Mark Waldrop
Scripture: Acts 20:24 “However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace.”
Life is often filled with uncertainty. We wonder why we face challenges, why certain doors close, or why we must endure seasons of difficulty. Yet, in these moments, we can find peace in knowing that Our Father Knows Best. He sees the entire picture—far beyond our limited perspective—and is guiding us toward His purpose.
Paul understood this deeply. His life was not his own, but a testimony to God’s grace. He pressed forward, not for earthly gain, but to complete the race that Christ had set before him. Paul’s heart was fully surrendered to God’s plan, confident that the Lord knew what was best, even when the path was hard.
Like Paul, we are called to trust God’s direction in our lives. When we surrender our fears, our dreams, and our uncertainties to Him, we declare that we believe in His perfect wisdom. Our aim should be to finish the race faithfully, trusting that God’s plan for us—whether in times of joy or trial—is ultimately for our good and His glory.
Today, rest in the assurance that your life has a purpose far greater than you can see. Trust that our Father knows best, and He will provide the strength you need to finish the race.
Prayer Heavenly Father, thank You for Your perfect wisdom and guidance. Help me to trust in Your plan, even when I don’t fully understand it. Give me the strength to run the race You’ve set before me, and let my life be a testimony of Your grace. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
We strive and sweat, we fall, we try, We lift our heads and question why. We chase approval, seek to earn, But grace is something we can’t learn.
For all our works, they fall apart They cannot mend the broken heart. We wear ourselves out, day by day, Hoping to earn what none can pay.
But God, in mercy rich and true, Declared a warranty for you. Not by deeds or proud decree, But through His Son who sets us free.
Normal wear and tear won’t do, The cracks must show, the soul break through. He doesn’t fix what’s merely worn He redeems the hearts that mourn.
When we are shattered, torn and tossed, He meets us there beneath the cross. It’s not our polish, but our plea That activates His warranty.
So cease your striving, bend the knee Let Jesus be your guarantee For through the Lamb, God warrants you, Made whole, made clean, and made anew.
Tit 3:5 he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit,
