Fear

Revelation 14:6-7 – “Then I saw another angel flying in midair, and he had the eternal gospel to proclaim to those who live on the earthto every nation, tribe, language and people. He said in a loud voice, Fear God and give him glory, because the hour of his judgment has come. Worship him who made the heavens, the earth, the sea and the springs of water.”

I dont often use verses from Revelation but I like these. What does it mean to fear God? For the unbeliever, the fear of God is to fear the judgment of God and eternal death. As believers, fear is reverence of God.

Hebrews 12:28-29 says: “Wherefore we receiving a kingdom which cannot be moved, let us have grace, whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear,For our God is a consuming fire.”

Im not scared of God. As a believer I have no reason to be scared of Him. I have His promise that nothing can separate me from His love.

Romans 8:38-39 tells usFor I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Fearing God means to have such a reverence for Him that it influences the way I live. This reverence and admiration of God is what the fear of God means for me as a Christian. This is the motivation for me to surrender my whole self to God, the Creator of the Universe; the key to serving the Lord with all my heart and with all my soul.

Father, I worship You in awe of Your great love for me. Thank You for the key to being able to serve You in my daily life. I give You all the glory and worship You, the Creator and God. Amen


Chrissy Siggee 2019

Scripture Verses used are from the New International Version of the Bible

Archived in Christian Devotions at Riverside Peace

The Dragon and the Princess

Everyone except Thomas Creighton-Smiths granddaughter, Ada, knew Rosie was more than just a pig. Adas ideal retirement for Rosie was to explore the ancient land of dragons by day and visit the kitchen for under-the-table dinner scraps in the evenings before dreaming by the fireplace.

At breakfast one dank April Friday, Grandma had suggested they have roast pig for Sunday lunch complete with the traditional three vegetables and brown gravy made from the juices of the roasting meat. It was while Grandma chatted on about where she would insert the large rotisserie rod that Ada ran from the kitchen with Rosie close at her heels. ‘It will help tenderise the old sow’, Grandma was saying without acknowledging she had heard the back-door slam.

Thomas put down his morning paper. ‘I just wanted to take the pig to the abattoir to recoup some of our losses. After all, this is a working farm’. He muttered as he left the house in search of Ada.

His eyes scanned the landscape for a sign of the two gallant explorers. In spite of himself, old Thomas didnt envy the little girl. He had grown up in Beatrix Potter country and the fantasies she created. The stunning Lake District would have been more practical for Adas school holiday imagination. He shook his head. Maybe we should have stayed in Ambleside and taken up trout farming.

It was two days before St Georges national holiday and Thomas needed to take that fat old pig for a road trip but Grandma was fixed on having tough pork and bacon. He stood at the garden gate and looked around. Where are they?He squinted into the fog that settled over the bogs as he recalled his mothers favourite story that dated back to the 6th century. What was it again? Oh yes. St George rescued a young maiden by slaying a terrifying fire-breathing dragon.He slipped his hands into his warm pockets and headed for the main road.

So she wouldnt fall over, Ada held up her long flowing medieval princess costume as she marched down Old Kent Road. Rosie trudged slightly behind with cardboard toilet cylinders on her pointy ears and three black ribbons tied onto her limp tail.

They stopped near a red telephone box just beyond the intersection where the road-signs crisscrossed on a wooden post. ‘Oh Rosie, how could Grandma say such horrid things? I wont let them eat you.’ Ada stomped her foot splashing slops of mud over both of them.

She lifted the old play dress above her waist to search the pockets of her faded jeans beneath. With a silver coin in her hand she stepped into the telephone box. Finding the correct number from the list beside the chunky black phone, Ada dialled and waited. Rosie grunted, shuffled and squeezed in until she jammed herself tight between Adas knees.

‘Hello!’ Ada shouted into the mouthpiece. ‘Please help me. Theyre going to kill Rosie!’

 

Approaching the end of the lane where it met the road, Grandpa looked left then right. Their farm was located two miles due east of the abattoir between Dover and Holyhead. He sniffed the thick foul air. This neighbourhood is likened to the lowest-priced property on the English Monopoly board. A few moments later he decided Ada would have headed away from town so off he trudged.

Minutes later he heard an ear-piercing squeal followed by a shout from young Ada. He quickened his stride. The telephone box, a little way past the next farm on the opposite side of the road, seemed to be alive as it shook and groaned. Grandpa stopped in mid-step; his neck craned forward. There was someone, or something, in the telephone box. There were too many legs to count. He saw what looked like horns and a tail with blades. There was a lot of banging and bumping going on behind the grime and moss streaked glass.

‘Oh my, it looks like a dragon!’

Ada screamed again jolting Grandpa from his trance. Manoeuvring the door open to avoid swishing his granddaughter, he grabbed Rosie by the tail and dragged her squealing from the booth.

Later, after the local Bobbies had their explanation and had a good laugh, Grandpa and Ada sat down to rest at the nearby bus-stop.

‘Did you know Ada, only forty-five to fifty percent of animals at the abattoir can be turned into edible meat products, fifteen percent is waste, and the remaining forty to forty five percent is turned into by-products like bath soap, candles and glue? He paused. You know, glue suits her.’

‘But Grandpa’

‘Its OK. Id rather like rescuing my little princess from dragons. Come on, lets go home and break the news to Grandma.’ He winked at his granddaughter. ‘There will be no more talk of bacon and roast pork.’

穢 Chrissy Siggee

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Daddys Prayer

Sweet golden locks frame her face
where tears flow onto frills and lace
Fingers clutch a teddy bear
and baby blues reflect despair.
It makes her daddys heart break
My sweet girl, why are you still awake?

Dark shadows dance throughout the night
a trembling voice reveals her fright.
Nightly dreams become a nightmare;
too much for this child to bear.
Invading ogres make her tearful
Pretty one, please dont be fearful.

Darkened hours can be quite scary
and sounds of the night make one wary.
Try not to cry my little one,
to be fearful is not fun
Loneliness makes the hours long.
Prayers to Jesus will make you strong.

Gentle Jesus meek and mild,
please watch over this precious child
Place loving arms around her Lord.
Our hearts beat with one accord,
give peace, and music to her ears
Jesus, take away her fears.

Calmness enters, Gods love displayed;
rest in Jesus, all fear will fade.
His love brings peace to your soul
Know our Fathers in control,
all fear is gone, sleep to restore
My little princess weeps no more.

穢 Chrissy Siggee

Archived in
Christian Poetry and Children & Teens at Riverside Peace

Roof Top Dancing

tap, tap, tap
thud, thud,
bump bump.

repeat

There is someone on my roof
It sounds like they are dancing.

tap, tap, tap
thud, thud,
bump bump.

repeat

I wonder if this roof is dance-proof
It wouldnt be for elephants prancing.

tap, tap, tap
thud, thud,
bump bump.

repeat

Who is dancing on my roof?
Toward the eaves they’re now advancing.

tap, tap, tap
thud, thud,
bump bump.

repeat

I sneaked a peek to find the proof
To do this, it took some chancing.

tap, tap, tap
thud, thud,
bump bump.

repeat

There issomeone dancing on my roof!
It’s three galahs belly-dancing.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galah

穢 Chrissy Siggee

Archived in
Poetry Mix and Children & Teens by Chrissy at Riverside Peace

Tuesday Blog Promotion – August 13th

This week’s Blog Promotion is:

Derrick Knight

Don’t Forget:
Riverside Peace is an Award Free Blog and I won’t be setting up another Award. Tuesday Blog Promotion will be my way of showing my appreciation of my followers. There’s nothing for you to do to earn the promotion. Just simply keep blogging the way you do.

Chrissy at Riverside Peace