Just Do Eight Hours
“Just do eight hours a day, My son,
’Till all your work in Me is done;
The part that needs be heard today
Is “action” part – his server way.“Apart from that, the Word I sent,
Was not for you, so don’t be wrent
Up by a passage you know well;
Just let it wash away – and tell –“The folks I bring to you to show,
The parts you learned so well to know,
So I can get some miles from them –
Then with the others’ actions blend.“For body-life’s indeed the way,
I’ve made for all to live each day
In victory, in Me, until
All people hap’ly do My will.“And as you know, sometimes folks say,
‘Get out of here; be on your way’,
As they to Me said words the same,
When I into their presence came.“So hang on tight, enjoy the ride;
The beach right here is ripped by tide;
Don’t get down off My shoulders now,
We’ll get across this strand somehow.“Remember it took forty years
To hear one word so simple, clear;
So don’t impatient get, my friend,
You’ll all arrive here in the end.“And by the way, My faithfulness –
‘So great it is’, but nonetheless,
I’ve other sheep to feed – today
I spoke to them another way.“So do eight hours photography,
Interpreted ‘augmented’ way;
And let the rest just wash on by;
Just let it go – you’ll soon see why.“Take ‘Martin’, master craftsman type,
Who makes guitars, and makes them right;
Their notes punch through and thrill your ear,
Each string distinctly formed, and clear.“There’s lovely mix of craft and skill –
Help her to blend it to my will
For her, as you walk on your ways,
In weeks and months in coming days.“For lots of folks play Martin’s work;
Sounds beautiful from saint or jerk;
Just like eight hours photography’s
A tool for you which yet can be –“A channel for My grace indeed,
As you go forth prepared as seeds
Into each garden I’ve prepared,
To let folks know how I have cared –“For all – including you, my son;
How in past days your journey’s run
Up mountains of triumphant glee –
To depths far deeper than the sea –“And yet e’en now as you look north,
The residue of that flows forth;
It’s not the calm or strife (you know),
But how it’s met in Me – then shown –“To others – flavors all you do –
Your photo-text augmented to
In forthright authenticity,
Make punchy words for all to read.“Someday she’ll play St. Martin too,
Just like augmented text for you;
Just like that couple years ago,
Whose struggle for their listeners souls –“Took place each night they circuit played
In tug-of-war in pubs – they saved
So many caught in Satan’s snare –
Through them their music showed My care.“So, Stuart, let it all wash by;
Hear, “Get to work” – I’ll tell you why –
He’s just like you, the rest don’t hear
His words, for plugged with wax their ears.“I showed you how to melt that wax;
Hear words that freed from ‘his’ attacks,
So now you walk in Beulah-land,
Released to freely walk, and stand –“Against attacks by ‘you-know-who’;
Freed up to do My will for you
In ways so many need to know –
So get to work – and I will show –“You things you’d never dreamed would come
Into reality, my son;
Kick back – it’s hard, but what the heck,
Sit tight – you ain’t seen nothing yet.”Thank you, Lord, for this.
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