MY KINDRED KIND

¶ After my encounter with that fella that was waylaid by the side of the road, the one who refused to ride with me to that City Not Made By Man, the very same fella who had, year after year, through the summer, the winter, the spring, and the fall, been out there in the middle of nowhere Beating His Old Dead Horse till it was nothin’ more than an old bag of bones, I brushed the dust off of my steed’s hoofs, shook the dust off my feet, mounted up, and headed out for my Destination, that City Not Made By Man, without him. I didn’t look back! As I was about to ride out of the Fall of the Year and into that Long Stretch of Winter something came to me that I’d like to share with you that I feel might put the warmth of a cozy cabin hearth in your heart and the Glow of the Spirit of God in your soul.

An Ancient Voice tugs at my soul

And so the WORD  declares,

Arise, and head this Way

And I will meet you there

At the Gathering of All Things

When All of My Kindred Kind

I will Gather at the River,

My River of Delights.

 

In My Father’s House are many mansions.

In each and every one, a Precious Stone,

And written on each Stone

Is a Name no other knows,

But you alone,

And the Lover of Your Soul.

Welcome Home!!!      {©Will Callery, excerpt from the song “Welcome Home”}

¶ Symbolically speaking, November signals the final stages of “Life”. In this neck-a-the-woods, our lush Summer did bid us adieu with a grand finale of beauty entitled The Fall of the Year in which she miraculously magnified the fiery brilliance of her Born Again Soul with majesty and splendor unspeakable by blessing us with a Season of Colors and hues beyond description before graciously yielding to the Harbingers of Winter – reminding us that, even though, as her last leaf falls from the grandiloquent heights of its lofty spire, even those that die, yet in stubborn faithfulness do cling to the Branch with all their might, they are, like all the others, broken loose and driven from their once aery crown of grandeur to the bleak and barren ground of humility by the stiff and rakish Winds of Winter – and though we must all give-way to the Harbingers of Winter, those who are truly His will not lose their Mantle of Beauty. Why? Because God’s Oaks of Righteousness have been Ordained of Old by the Ancient of Days Himself to endure the harsh and humbling austerity of Fierce Winter Winds only to return with all the striking royalty, majesty, splendor, and Power our hearts can handle in the Spring of the Year. And so, in the most magnificent way this Old Man can muster, I would like to say to The Godly Kind, “Don’t lose heart! I’ll see you in the Spring-a-the-Year, in the Resurrection of the Righteous in that CITY NOT MADE BY MAN”

THE GODLY KIND / ©Will Callery / William & Cynthia Pub. Co. ©2023 BMI

Ain’t It So, Letters From Over Yonder, The Deep Fetch, & The Covenant are published by William & Cynthia Pub. Co.©2023

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