Tail or Tongue Wag

Today I was grievously reminded of tongue ownership! I wag my tongue, and have wielded it weapon like, drawing invisible blood from those I have condemned in my mind and heart, and man alive, Matthew Henry brought me to the point of suffering for my shameful sin this morning. God owns all souls, and tongues too. Jesus could have used his tongue to speak devastating words of destruction to literally cut and slash his accusers, mockers, and usurpers, while hanging from the cross, but alas, he spoke mercy instead:

Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do. And they parted his raiment, and cast lots (Luke 23:34)

Jesus is the King of glory. The gates of heaven were open when the Lamb was slain for the sake of sinners. His pure blood was shed, so ours does not have to be spilled, and yet, we do not live as though we owe him our lives, our being. 

Do you have a dog, dear reader? I had two up until last year. One of the things I appreciate about dogs is the tail wag of delight. If you are their master, and they see you after you have somehow disappeared from their perpetual and vigilant watching over you, they will wag their tail end until it hits their sides ... the occasional whimper lets you know too, that your presence was missed. I have often wondered, how wonderful it would be, if we all greeted each other similarly!

Okay, I admit, I have greeted people this way in the past, people that make me very happy, people that I can't believe I get to hang out with, people that make me feel like I am in a personal private heaven, just me and them. It is an adoring feeling, a mutual appreciation ... I may be their pet, or they may be mine ... it is a sweetness to have affinity, isn't that so?

What then, when aversion is present, when there is dissimilitude, dislike, and antipathy? What do we do with these sentiments? I am learning what I must not do, and I am learning what I would really like to do and who I want to be like ... I would like to be just like Jesus, interceding on behalf of wrong doers, enemies of Christ, enemies of his people. Today in my broken state, I prayed in earnest for wisdom and then, miracle of miracles, I prayed in earnest for all those that I do not want to be damned that have done me harm! Phew, Jesus answers prayers I tell you. Saints cannot stand their own sin, whether it is ancient history, or yesterday's debacles: it pains us to no end to know we have insulted our Father in heaven. 

Not long ago I got kicked off of LinkedIn, for the second time. I knew I had pushed the community limits, and I also knew that I could not continue engaging in what was a fruitless endeavour, of which is trying to convince worldly people that they are caught in the snare Satan has set for them. Only God can detangle, and cut a person loose from their state of stupor. I am no match for the wiles of the devil, AND God Almighty is the power, the might, the fight we need to do battle for us daily. Getting ousted from LinkedIn freed my mind to focus on what is valuable to God, and I really don't take too much notice anymore, of what the wicked are up to. They are the naughty children I do not want to play with ... no tongue or tail wagging for them! 

I will always see the evil, and I will always grieve it too. In my Bible studying, in my prayers, in my weeping, I will petition for souls, that, dear reader, is the work of saints; we have been given a ministry of reconciliation, and those whom God will save are those whom God will save. We know not who or when, but then again, that is none of our business!

I tell you this: the more time I spend with God, learning who he is and how much he loves us, the more I am at peace. Grieving isn't a sign of peace-less-ness, it is a signal that we understand the gravity of our circumstances, and that we feel the suffering all around us, and wish somehow we could/can alleviate it. We can't, but God can, and that, dear reader, is why we pray. 

It matters not to me what someone has done. What matters to me is that people go to God. I don't think I write amiss when I say, that as long as we admit to our sins, confess them to God, repent and trust in Jesus as the gate through which we enter heaven, that we can have the peace that surpasses all understanding while we wait for the joy of eternity with God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost. 

Sinners saved, that is the ultimate goal, to the glory of God, through Christ our Lord. 

Amen 💖

NOTE: If you look closely, my dog Dot is curled on top of my feet, and my dog Cesar is looking up at me hoping I will drop some food ... if only humans loved with doggie trust and devotion! 

Tainted

Would you consider your body to be an alarm system, dear reader? Think with me: if there is smoke, there is fire, and if there is fire near a smoke detector that has a working battery installed in the device, then it makes sense, that a beeping alarm will sound to warn a body, or many somebodies, that danger ensues. 

I recall the first time I inhaled smoke on purpose. That initial hall on a cigarette made me cough. Determination and stupidity had me going back for more, because I wanted to be a smoker. Same thing with the deliciousness of alcohol. One sip burned, but out of sheer persistent desire to finish the job, I consumed, and each tip of the glass got a little easier with the liquid smoothly, almost unnoticed, passing my lips and tongue and eventually, warming my innards. Funny how we can anaesthetize ourselves, turn off warning signals, mute alarm bells and beeping. 

I don't smoke, or drink very much either, because both activities make me so sick, I can't even cope! This makes me very, very happy, dear reader. My body has always been a detector for what is harmful, but overriding the system was something I did out of rebellion, against God. Self-harm seems a common everyday event for the masses, and I am ever so grateful that each human has a built in conscience: mine shames me mercilessly when I sin, and it is my punisher when I deviate from God's will ... when people do what they ought not do, over and over and over again, they effectively take the batteries out of their internal smoke alarms, or cover their ears to block out the sounding off warnings. Do you, do this, dear reader?

Over time, a person can taint themselves to the point of living an endangered existence, where the voice of reason is no longer heard, and the soul cares not what is done to the body, and visa versa. The Bible describes this as a seared conscience. This verse is taken from 1 Timothy 4:2

Speaking lies in hypocrisy; having their conscience seared with a hot iron

A person can lock in their own juices, and whatever marinates in the mind, in the heart, in the soul, will eventually, leak out and coat that very same person with whatever yuck was previously, perhaps privately, contained. Sin is insidious: 

● Do you know someone you recognize, but they are not at all the person you met and liked years ago? 

● Is it odd to you, that what comes out of their mouth, or how they behave, is foreign to you in its distastefulness, and yet you have to deal with them daily, as though you are trapped in a cage of your own making?

● Have you often thought, I wish I could just get away, or they would somehow leave? What if I told you, they are thinking the exact same things?!

Can two walk together, except they be agreed? Amos 3:3 

Divergence is that crossroads moment in time, when you go your way, and I go mine, because we cannot walk side-by-side in agreement. This can be a painful experience, a grievous experience, a change your life forever experience. 

● Perhaps you dismissed the warning, or withdrew those alarm batteries, ignoring the DON'T DO it messages you were getting, and now you have consequences to deal with. 

● Perhaps you were hoodwinked by a master manipulator, and innocently did what they recommended, and got burned. 

I don't know what your circumstances are, but I do know that integrity can and will, save your soul. Integrity is that honest and wholesome part of you that wants nothing more than for you to speak and live the truth. Truth makes us free, from our own wayward inclinations and ways, because the conscience is given full permission to speak godly wisdom to our very spirit, and when we listen and abide, God's will is done.

Can two walk together, except they be agreed? Amos 3:3

We can walk together, dear reader, when we are agreed. Agreed on what, you ask? Everything God commands and lovingly dictates. He doesn't ask, he tells. He isn't looking for our casual commitment, he is looking for, Yes Father, obedience. We can't just go about our business and pretend we haven't been warned, when we have been told over and over again, to sin not, to repent, to turn from our wicked ways, and to believe in the One whom God hath sent! 

Come on now, walk with me, with Jesus leading The Way 💖

If you find yourself forced by circumstance (and we have all been there at one point or another), to walk with someone that has a completely different gait, start earnestly praying for God to change said circumstances, to match his will for you and the other person too. You will be astounded by the incremental changes that occur, over time. 

Here is the command that helps me immensely:

Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:6-7)

Pray for God's will

Supplicate earnestly and humbly beg and ask

Be thankful for a God that loves and hears you, and generously provides

AND

The peace of God, which is beyond understanding, shall keep your heart and mind through the Prince of Peace, Christ Jesus 💖

Beauty for Ashes

Isaiah 61:3 To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.

I read today, "God's Gospel church is called the Israel of God", can anything be more marvellous, dear reader? How better to be marked as God's people, than to be known as those that mourn in Zion? And what more satisfaction can we possibly ask for, than to have our ashes become beautiful, our mourning become the oil of joy, our laden grievous spirit to become garments of praise, so that we might be called trees of righteousness, planted of the LORD, that he might be glorified?!

In 2017, my life lay in ruins. It didn't show on the outside ~ I didn't share what was happening in my life with many people, I carried on, business as usual ~ but there were times when I lay face to the floor, plastered there, sobbing and begging God for redemption, a hint of healing, a drop of hope for the changes that were necessary for my family to be rebuilt and restored to his will, his way. God does not ignore the repentant, he will not refuse those that plead for forgiveness, and restoration, and a return to his family. I knew I had to confess my sins, understand the sins of those that had come before me through blood lines, and those of my former husband too ... the cumulative sin was noxious, and the sins of the fathers, and mothers that we call ancestors, really do, impact offspring, mine included. 

When I look back, I see myself prostrate but it is only now, that I recognize no matter where I wept, face down and unseeing, Jesus was standing before me. Bit by daily bit, incremental change occurred. I was a half-ling, a semblance of my former confident and perhaps cocky self, and God gave me insights into my flawed character, where I had relied solely on my own strength and sometimes silly beliefs, and he filled me with a hunger and thirst to be holy, as he is holy. As long as I live, I will desire this type of food and drink more than anything else in this lovely world. The Holy Spirit satisfies the soul, and as my good friend Lanie spoke to me just yesterday, he is redeeming my ashes for beauty. 

While I share in writing, dear reader, I remain a rather private person. I will not divulge who and what and how, people in my life have been transformed through the power of prayer. Those closest to me already know my story, and prayed as only the saints can do in time of turmoil and trouble. I am glad to be called a family member of the Gospel Church, known as the Israel of God. He saved me long before I drew my first earthly breath; saved me and my family in 2017, and saves me still, from one day to the next ... and it is prayer, humble, meek, seeking, finding, grateful for all the blessings prayer, that is a gift from God that I will always treasure and cherish. 

Are you troubled? Does it seem as though the tide has turned on you, and as the water rises, you have no escape, and will simply drown in your sorrow? Have the circumstances gotten to the point that you have exhausted all your emotional and even physical resources, and you are so spent as to not want to get up off your face from that floor? Pray, dear one, pray. Get out your Bible, read it, soak it up, and feel the rush of certain hope, knowing God loves a repentant and pleading child and that he will exchange your ashes for beauty too. It may not look like you had planned, but your life will be better than you anticipated, all for the glory of our God, through Christ our Lord.

Amen

Your Money or Your Life

Your money or your life, is a phrase and threat, that was used by highwaymen during robberies. Recently, the same ploy to take from unsuspecting prey, what belongs to them, was activated on a grand and global scale. I am going to work out this concept as I type, so bear with me, dear reader. 

It appears to me that there was at first blush a veiled threat, followed rapidly by a grotesquely real and eminent threat, presented monster big for all to see. The gun in our comparison, is a syringe, the money came in the form of employee paycheques. People chose their money over their lives, so this phrase is reversed, inverted, or swapped out somehow: Your life for your money ... Your life in exchange for the money you want to keep making ... Your life as you knew it, sold to you by the sweat of your own brow. The modern day highwaymen were and are, life robbers, guised as politicians and physicians, prostituted preachers and teachers ... The unsuspecting did not see the threat, hear the threat, comprehend the magnitude of giving into the threat, in fact, they trusted the highwaymen, and it rattles my cage to see the wicked getting away with any of the damage they have done during their destructive Godzilla like rampage. 

◾️ Do you believe, dear reader, that there are some people in the world that make it their life's ambition, to torture, to torment, to weaken and then destroy, other humans?  

◾️ Does it hurt your heart, the way it does mine, to even consider such a dreadful concept?

Daily I hear about deaths: I knew this was in my future, your future, our mutual present; I knew because poison kills, and people believed that they would not be able to live, or survive, without paycheques, so when employers imposed with incivility upon workers, with the threat, Injections or your money, many a troubled soul fearfully surrendered, arm at there side, sleeve rolled-up, in anticipation of their flesh being pierced, believing the highwaymen would take back employment, if they didn't do the bidding of the coercers. 

Many didn't do the bidding. Many said in their minds and hearts, Take my employment, the money isn't worth the risk, or giving up my freedom to choose  ... and that is the temptation we face while wandering about on God's green earth: men threaten, we acquiesce, or we trust in Providence and use our God given rights to say yay or nay, according to our values and principles.  

I met a pleasant man on the weekend. He had worked for the Salvation Army, past tense. They fired him, dear reader, when he refused to get the poisonous injections that so many are suffering side effects from, and dying from too. He had the audacity to say no, and they shamefully, had the crassness to say, Donald Trump style, You're fired. Before getting terminated, Health and Safety came after the fella to pressure him ... at the SALVATION army ... hmmm, there's that reversal, inversion, and swapping out again. What a front, The Salvation Army ought to be occupied with the saving of souls, not aiding and abetting the enemy of souls. Sigh ...

I am sad often these days. I am also joyful often these days. The sadness comes from the feeling of perpetual anticipation of yet another tragic tale, of life cut short due to well, you know, those poisonous injections that were and apparently still are, very popular in some sleepy crowds. The joy is mine when I recall that God is my hope, and that prayer is powerful, because our Creator wants none to be lost ... and so I pray for many and put my trust in Providential care for those I love.

Your money or your life, dear reader? Which will you choose, if the question is put to you again? We all got asked this question, and those that chose the expense of income loss for saying no to what did not seem fit or right to them, have no regrets; this cannot be said for the hundreds of thousands and even millions of people, that now recognize they erred in their judgment, and are currently asking themselves, What have I done?

No matter the camp you were in before, we are truly now, all in this together, and must hold each other's hands and hearts tenderly, comforting one another as we weep over loss after loss. Life is precious, and priceless, and it behooves us to recognize it as such; never allow reprobate highwaymen the pretence of holding your soul, or livelihood, hostage. You do not have to ransom your life, Christ ransomed his, paying the price for the sins of the world, yours and mine too, on the cross of Calvary. 

Trust in God as your Divine Provider... He is in charge, and each time you say yes to him and no to wicked requests, you are one step closer to heaven, even as you walk the earth. 

One last thing, before we go our separate ways ... if you haven't yet decided on your answer to the question, Your money or your life, then you actually have decided. Chances are good you will go for whatever is easiest for you in the moment, whatever is convenient. That is a wonky way of choosing and will be based on emotion rather than integrity. Think now, about your answer, for the sake of your own soul, and the souls of those that keep a close eye on what you choose ... we all have people we influence, make sure your impact on others is of a godly nature. 

Post Script: The devil's tactics are age old. He tempts with things that appeal to our senses and suggests we ignore the conscience that whispers and sometimes screams, Don't do it, DON'T DO IT ... alas, the consequences for sinful choices are varied and great, and this is what we are witnessing. 

I suggest that if you or those you love are suffering sickness from having said yes to the injections that have been marketed relentlessly for the past three years plus plus, that you repent, ask God to forgive you for making money your god, and heal you in Jesus name ... then, dear one, sin no more and live to glorify God. 

Closet Clearing

I know myself. I know who I am, what I think, how I feel. Surely, I struggle from time to time with angst and agitation, when I am searching for the just right mental hanger on which to drape my wandering and misplaced thoughts. Today I went into my closet and drawers, and began the purge ... empty hangers and cleared out drawers were a welcome sight, dear reader. 

Months ago, when my older sister Antonella died, my younger sister Patricia and I went through her closets and drawers. We hunted for precious items that reminded us of Nell's, that is our short form nickname for Antonella. When I entered my own walk-in closet this morning, I could not tolerate the junk, the heaps, the piles, the items I have purchased and worn, and then stopped wearing God knows when? The things that I paid for that no longer hold value in my sight, the things that seem vain and frivolous, that I purchased as a pleased consumer ... I put the unwanted articles on my bed, readying them for transfer to a plastic bag for permanent removal. Next, I looked to the shelves I had placed my deceased sister's belongs on, I looked to the things she had left behind. We enter into the world naked and vulnerable, and when we exit, we are subjected to the whims and wishes of others ... isn't that so, dear reader? Nell's died in a hospital bed wearing hideous hospital fashion, it's all the rage for patients, but a person that loves shopping, wouldn't be caught dead that garb ... forgive my very black humour, dear one, it matches my sad mood. 

Death unsettles, it disturbs, it makes us reticent, if we are thoughtful regarding the status of our own soul. When I wear something that I took from my sisters rooms, from her private collection of personal items, I feel engulfed with a layer of residual sadness, and it remains as a reminder whilst I sport the item, that she ought to be adorned with whatever it is that now belongs to me ... it occurs to me, the tops, the earnings, the rings, will never ever be mine, not in the truest sense of the word. These representations of her taste, her sense of fashion, her playfulness in the selecting, will always and forever belong to her, so long as I see my sister in them in my memory. 

What I wouldn't give, as the saying goes, to see her bounce into my house in one of her latest greatest Winners finds ... The Bible tells us to store up our treasures in heaven: I image my sister to be the treasure I long to find after a brief search, when I arrive there, naked and vulnerable like a new born babe, wanting to be clothed in the glory only God can provide. 

Today is a goodbye of sorts. My sisters and I have always shopped together, shared clothes (sometimes without permission, my bad), and told each other the truth when something was hideously ugly in the changing room. Today I say good-bye to what no longer suits or serves me, and some of the things that will never be filled out by me, or my lovely Nells, ever again. Oh Nells, I want you back, but it is not to be. I pray your clothes bless others, that they feel joyful in them ... you were always so generous, and literally, gave shirts and pants and earrings and rings, right off your back and legs and ears and fingers ... oh and the shoes too! You always gave away shoes!!! All your close friends can attest to that. 

Nells, I want you to know, there are none like you. You were an interesting cat, we miss you, long to hear from you, and only wish against wishing, that you would text or call, or pop on by ... nothing is the same without you ... All my love, Linda. 

Truckers

On Thursday September 12th, my son and I hit the highway, bound for North Carolina, for his ordination as an Anglican priest. Who knew we would be winding up, then down, and next through, mountains? Seeing the men working construction had me feeling very grateful and appreciative of the strenuous contributions they make that allow safe and almost effortless passage. I admire men greatly, and have always found it irksome, to hear women say nonsensical things, about not needing men: Did you know the term for hating or distrusting men, is labeled misandrist? Ya, I didn't either, but women are misandrists when they hate on men, and it is shameful ... because God knows most women can't figure out how to use the TV remote, let alone design and build highways, houses, malls, and skyscrapers!  

While on the road, my son and I saw some signs that made us curious. These signs repeated in intervals, followed by steep and long hillside inclines. We put two and two together before long, and my soul did a little terrified shiver when I realized what the signs, coupled with the hills, represented. I have included pictures! Do look now. Mind you, the incline in my pictures does not look intimidatingly steep, but dear reader, make no mistake, the grade upward was crazy!

Now maybe you have seen these before, or heard about them? but Matthew and I had never been exposed to the concept of a truck driver needing someplace to slow and stop his runaway truck when his brakes failed, and when he found himself picking up unstoppable speed while rolling downhill. Think with me, how many lives would be at risk, if this brake failure, on mountains, were a common occurrence. Isn't that a yikes inducing idea? Men build and maintain trucks, and some really smart men built stop 'em ramps, for the occasions trucks endanger lives when disabled from slowing to a safe stop. When I think of how many accidents do not happen, I am humbled to a grateful heap of wonder. When we see cars crushed or spun backward on the roads we regularly travel, we all slow down a little out of curiosity with one question coming to mind: Is everyone okay? It isn't long after the rubber necking, that people pass and pick up speed again, as though they never really considered the reality, that the next accident waiting to happen, could be the one they find themselves in. But for the mercy of God, go I, and you, and them too, dear reader. 

As I consider the work truckers do, I glow with a gratitude attitude. My son pointed out that the population of America is massive, and the trucks travelling to and fro across the country and into ours too, feed the masses, clothe the masses, supply and remove and provide and and ... I know this is not a new concept, but man alive, those Run Away Truck Ramp signs, and those Run Away Truck Ramp hills, sure did give me cause for pause and consideration. These drivers risk life and limb daily, and I am thankful for their contribution to the life we all live.

Our stay

The first hotel we stayed at was near a truck stop. Prostitutes were entering and exiting some of the trucks parked for the night. Work takes men away from family, for days on end sometimes, and I am confident that many a man, in the loneliest of situations, resist temptations, and remain faithful to their kin. There is an underbelly in boardrooms and back allies, there is an underbelly in pulpits and the pews that are occupied by would be saints ... and there are those that resist, those that can be counted on to take risks that the fear filled and fleshly will not take, risks that preserve us in our unaware states of being. 

Truckers do an extraordinary job. They are the keepers of the keys of safety and provision. We owe them a debt of gratitude ... I recall a flat tire in the middle of winter, changed for me by a trucker that pulled over immediately upon seeing my little red gulf stopped on the side of the 401 highway. There were four of us in that car that day; my son Matthew was one of the passengers, and was a tike at the time. I didn't have a cell phone, or roadside assistance ... we had a trucker act as guardian angel, and dear reader, this is a tribute to all those guys out there that deserve a big Thank-You, for all you do for our benefit, whether we realize it or not.

Men are wonderful, and God made them. Truckers are currently my favourite sort of unsung hero, praise be to God Almighty, for all they do for little old me and you. 

Gorgeous Nature

Can you hear it, dear reader? Are you tapping your feet as you pick-up the beat? Nature sings praises to God, are you attuned? 

I have heard a chorus of crickets that sound like a heavenly angelic choir. Someone took the time to record and then slow the sound, and voila, the listener's soul is transported upward. Have you heard this recording too?

What about the time-lapsed images of birds flying to and fro to retrieve building materials for nest assembly? Have you delighted in following their progress, watching them care for their offspring, the tiny replicas that seem to miraculously emerge from cracked, previously sat on and kept warm, eggs? How can all of this be, dear reader? Is it not wonderfully astounding?

I read this morning in Matthew Henry's Commentary On The Whole Bible, page 579, that what we see, is natural constant preaching of God's presence and more significantly, God's creative hand in all things natural. To state this plainly, nature is gorgeous, elegant, perfectly unified, and fits hand in glove in extraordinary countless ways ... do you appreciate this, dear one? 

I have been thinking about blueprints ... DNA strands and scientific this or that ... those that look through microscopes and then despotically deconstruct the elements in order to comprehend the mysteries of the inner workings of the thing they study so that they can Frankenstein bits and pieces together ... I am writing tangentially at the moment ... please bear with me as I take us somewhere ...

My idea is that without raw materials, there would be nothing to study, but let us add to this, that there would be nothing to manipulate or bastardize either. Scientists use what God, and only God, can provide, to firstly discover, and then what appears to be very common practice, to destroy via splicing and dicing and reassembling, so that healthy structures are weakened and grotesquely disabled and disfigured.  Mad scientists ~ crazy people, that deny God, despite all the evidential proof they steal from nature ~ refuse to praise the Creator, while nature cannot help but sing his praises. 

Crickets are humming, Holy is the Lord

Birds are chirping, God is my provider and protector

Bees are buzzing, Beautiful is thy bounty

What are you humming? What are you chirping about? What vibrational buzz has you declaring God has provided beauty and bounty as your provider and protector?

I love a full and complete circle. I really appreciate when all things make sense and there is nothing lacking or missing. I look at human babies, puppies ~ infant forms of all kinds ~ budding flowers and trees; the roll waves inland followed shortly thereafter, by a mesmerizing rolling back out again, and I cannot help but be in utter awe. When I think of a flower, I do not want to pull it apart, because I know that if I do, I will not be able to reassemble it again, and that I have somehow contributed to its final demise ... a flower's life is short lived, and its beauty fades quickly. When I think of humans being pulled apart by other humans, it is wretchedness to my soul ... the bloom of youth is short lived, and to hurt another human is to contribute to their final, more often than not, painful demise. Why would anyone want to do this, you ask? Indeed, why ... The Bible says those that sin against God, hate him, and love death: 

But he that sinneth against me wrongeth his own soul: all they that hate me love death (Proverbs 8:36)

If a person hates God and sins against him, wronging the very soul that God has given him, what difference does it make if he hates you, hates me, hates our children, hates birds, flowers, trees, bears, bees ... Hate is hate, and if a person hates, then it Biblically follows, that they love the death of people, places, and precious things, that remind you and me of God's magnificent creative hand. They love to hate. They love death for hell's sake. They actually, oddly, hate God, the God that made them! 

I will not convolute. I refuse to philosophize. I do not speak apologetically or prophetically either. I only beseech, with hope and prayer, that people will turn in thanksgiving to their Maker(s) ~ God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost ~ and join in with natural preaching and praising of the Almighty. Let us couple our voices with the heavenly holy angelic host, in glorifying the Most High, this very day

 ... and let the demons shriek their horror and fear; their days are numbered.