The Invisible Journey and the Treasure of the King

Son of God,

Who rules this day.

I wake another day,

In Your kingdom.


And this is another day,

That I get to live in Your glory here.

And this is another day,

That I move forward in my journey,

Toward the end,

And the throne room,

And the kingdom coming.


I live in a beauty,

And an urgency,



It’s an urgent,

That isn’t anxious,

But that’s insistent.


Insistent on fighting,

To hold onto Your fellowship.

Insistent on striving,

To enter into Your rest.


Insistent on this life spent,

Loving and investing,

In the kingdom of God.


A life insistent on the worship and the knowing,

Of the King.


I wake to a day urgent,

And beautiful.


I wake to a day filled with grace,

And filled with promise,

And filled with glory and mystery.

This life,

A bubbling song.


I wake to a Kingdom,

Both here and steady,

And moving.


I wake to a Kingdom still,

And rushing.


And powerful.


And purposeful.



And yet infinitely deep.


And healing.


And energetic.


And determined.


Nowhere in all the world,

Is there anything like Your kingdom.

And yet,

Everywhere in all the world,

Here is Your kingdom.



Your kingdom,

At once over and underneath and behind and before,

All things here,

And yet,

The antithesis,

Of all this world.


It’s a paradox that baffles,

And astounds me,

Even as it holds me.

How the kingdom of God,

Is here in this world,

And yet,

Not of it.

And nothing like it,


At all.


It’s a strange thing to be a pilgrim,

In your own land.

Strange to be this person,

Who is journeying everywhere,

And yet,

Going nowhere,

At the same time.


It’s strange to be a pilgrim,

And still have your friends and neighbors here around you,

At all times.


Strange that you should go so far,

And so deep,

And encounter so much,

And break and bleed and sweat for it,

All in secret,

And they should think,

That you’ve traveled nowhere,

And faced nothing.


It’s a strange and wonderful and awesome paradox,

The kingdom of heaven.

And in a world that values so much outward glitter and spoils,

It is a an invisible journey,

In an invisible kingdom,

That will one day,

Be made visible.


And one day,

The homeland,

Will be more than just a promise in the heart.

But it will be a reality in the eyes.

And then,


The world will know.


But sometimes it’s hard,

To live the invisible struggle,

On the invisible journey,

To the invisible homeland,

And the invisible King.


And it’s so easy to be tempted,

And deceived,

By the insubstantial illusions,

That tempt the eyes,

And heart.


And sometimes the mirages seem more real,

Than the invisible promises,

And hopes,

Of the coming kingdom.


And sometimes the immediate,

Seems to be the real,

Just because,

It’s here,

And I can touch it.


But the world is passing away,

Along with its desires.

And the illusions are fading fast,

Like the sunrise.


And just as you cannot hold the colors in the sky,

As the light sinks and fades below the horizon,

Neither can we hold the temptations of this world.

And all these temporary trappings,

Are just that,



Dead-end mazes,

And snares of the desires of the heart.

A feast of sand,

And castles built therein.


But we seek the coming kingdom.

We ache for the face of the King.

And anything less than this,

Is only dust and ashes,

And the feasting of this.


The world speaks to us,

Of many other names.

Seeks to get us to build our lives,

On some name other,

Than You.


It preaches salvation and satisfaction and happiness,

In names like Wealth,













But none of these can save,

Or give the heart,

The place of true rest.


There is only one name,

Yours alone.


There is only one place of rest,

Your fellowship.


Son of God,

Whatever it takes,

And whatever it costs,

We must see Your face.

We must enter Your presence,

And here remain.


And our lives,

Are the constant striving,

After this.

After the place of abiding in Your rest.

After the place of knowing You,

And worshiping You there.


We strive to feast on You,

And to enter and remain,

In the joy of You.


For this is life in all its fullness,

And this is the true feast for the soul,

And these are the true riches,

That are never lost.


This is the true journey,

And the true kingdom,

And the true labor and struggle,

That actually means something.


These are the tears,

Not wasted.

This is the labor,

Not in vain.

This is the true bread,

And the true water.


And these are the only things,

We can spend our lives on,

That will satisfy.


And we can spend our lives,

On many other things,

But they are dead-ends,



And the soul can feast,

On many things,

But anything that is not Your name,

And Your fellowship,

And Your gospel,

Is dust and ashes,

And an empty belly,

And soul.


Son of God,

Who alone is the treasure,

And the feast,

That satisfies.


Your table is never empty,

And the cup You hold out to us,

Is ever overflowing.

And we can drink and feast on You,

And never cease,

And never lack,

And never want,

For anything more than this.


But it’s a fight,

To shake off the lies and deceptions,

That jump on our backs,

And bid us carry them,

Like so many leaden backpacks.


It’s a fight,

To see through the haze,

And through the storm of dust and accusation and doubt,

To the true path,

To the true King,

And the true encouragement,

Of the kingdom.


For Your kingdom,

Always speaks encouragement.

And it always speaks life,

And so much joy,



But the evil one,

And his evil world,

Seeks to blind us.

To the Beautiful One,

Right here.


O, give us eyes to see,

And hearts to understand,

And make us wise,

To cling to the treasure,

And be not deceived!


O, give us strength,

To want You.

To desire You with our eyes,

And our hearts,

And our lives,

And not spend them on any other,

Lesser pursuits.


You are the Son of God,

And the King of the kingdom,

And the Good and Gracious One,

Who always comes after us.


And when we wander away,

And fall into a ditch,

And stumble off the path,

You pick us up in Your hand,

And lift us back up,

And place us back,

On the right way.


Son of God,

We enter and remain the the kingdom,

Only because,

You brought us here,

And You keep us here.

Not through any strength nor will,

Of our own.


You are the faithful God,

Who disciplines us,

And trains our souls,

In righteousness.


You are the God,

Who brings forth fruit in our souls,

And one day there will be a harvest here,

And we will rejoice,

As You delight in the crop.


God who does all this work of righteousness in us,

From beginning to end.

And the seed,

And the fruit,

And the harvest,

Is all Your doing,

And the work of Your own hand.


God who prepares,

And who sows.

Who waters with storms and rain,

And bakes in the hot sun,

And causes the seed,

To sprout.


God who weeds,

And who prunes.

Who cuts away that which would kill,

And who sometimes kills good things,

To bring forth better things.


God who tends the crop,

Under watchful eye.

God who brings the field,

Full to the harvest.


God who will one day,

Harvest our souls.

And what will You find here,

But the kingdom that You Yourself,

Have planted,

And tended?


And yet let us tremble,

At the thought of that harvest day,

And what it will really mean,

To be harvested by the hands,

Of our King.



And let us live,


And single-hearted,

For the King,

And His kingdom.


O, keep us on Your path,

Lord Jesus!

Keep us breathing in Your air of truth,

And not the polluted smog,

Of this world’s deceit!


O, wretched world!

O, wretched flesh!

Deliver us!

Deliver us from evil,

And waken us to the danger,

That we daily live in.


Let us not be like lambs,

Who wander carelessly,

Among the lions.

Let us not sit at the table of this world,

And partake,

As though it were no poison,

To our souls.


Better is the feast,

Of the True Bread,

And the Living Water,

Than all the meat and splendor of this world,

Tainted with so much poison.


Better is a little,

With the fear of the Lord,

Than great treasure of this world,

And trouble and death,

With it.


Help us to stay away from the poisoned foods,

And the cursed treasures,

And save our souls,

By giving them only,

To You.


Let Your word,

And Your fellowship,

Be our only feast.

May Your pleasure,

And Your friendship,

Be our only treasure.


May You be our treasure,

O King,

And keep us,

From idols.


And if we think the pursuit of Your face,

And Your fellowship,

And Your joy,

And Your kingdom,

And the way of holiness that leads here,

Is too great or strenuous a thing,

Then we’ve been deceived to think that life is death,

And death is life.

We call evil good,

And good evil.


Wake us up,

And open our eyes,

And make us to see,



Ah, but merciful Son of God,

It is all Your grace,

And Your hand,

From first to last.

And I am glad of that.


For I could have no hope,

Any other way.


Son of God who holds me,

In my moments of sinfulness and weakness and struggle and confusion,

As well as in my moments of strength,

And victory.


Son of God who does it all,

From first to last.

Son of God who is the victory,

And who dwells in me,

And makes me the scent and trophy of Your victory,

Up to God.


Son of God,

Our sins are forgiven for Your name’s sake.

And in You,

We are made strong.

And the word,

And the Spirit of God,

Abide in us.

And we have overcome the evil one.

And we have overcome this evil world.


Son of God,

Who even right now,

Is our victory.


Son of God,

I cling to You,

And I live.


And I am grateful,

That You cling to me,

And make me to live.


You do it all in me,

From first to last.

And You will carry me through to the end,

And on that final day,

I will sing Your praises.


You who have brought me through,

And spurred me on,

And have made me breathe,

And think,

And know.


Son of God who gave me life,

And made me live.

Who plants my steps underneath me,

And spurs me with His life on the inside,

To walk,

And to live.


Who keeps me from trouble,

And fills me with songs of deliverance.

Son of God who holds my steps,

And my lot.


The lines have fallen,

In pleasant places for me,

And I have a beautiful inheritance.


You are my refuge,

And my dwelling place.

My wisdom,

My life,

My breath.

My salvation,

My joy,

My King,

And my very great reward.


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