Note from the Poet

Dear Reader,

In these darkening days, when the signs of the times press heavy upon us—like this recent Iran deal that has left so many faithful hearts discouraged and Israel feeling betrayed by allies—we must remember our calling. I write not from despair but from burning hope. We are called to live as salt and light—preserving truth, shining amid decay—while our hearts remain fixed on a Kingdom not of this world. Our hope is not in shifting alliances or earthly powers, but in the unchanging God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He who watches over Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps.

Do not lose heart. May these lines stir you to stand boldly: loving what God loves, hating what He hates, watching on the wall, warning against evil, and trumpeting the glorious Gospel louder still while time remains. The King is coming. Let us be found faithful.

With urgency and affection,

The Poet

In this dark age our feet yet tread the sod,

Yet hope abides not here where empires fall;

As salt we season, preserve the path of God,

Though not of this world—our true home is all.

More in the Word, less in its fleeting tide,

We walk as strangers, pilgrims through the night;

The miry clay cannot our souls abide,

For heaven’s call outshines its false delight.

End-time scrolls unroll their solemn page:

Nations conspire, betraying Israel’s vine;

They scorn the covenant, inflame their rage—

Yet we remain, as salt, by grace divine.

We flavor truth where decay would claim the day,

Loving what God loves and hating what He hates;

We take our stand against the evil’s sway,

And shine as beacons ‘gainst the gathering storm.

May we be watchmen, watchwomen on the wall,

Warning all against the evils of the day;

Yet trumpeting salvation’s glorious call,

For time is short—the signs upon the earth obey.

Not bound by earthly crowns that rot away,

Our citizenship is where the angels form;

The fig tree greens, the birth pangs multiply,

Wars thunder loud, false prophets fill the air.

But we, preserved by Him who cannot die,

Proclaim His coming—bright, beyond compare;

So let us shine as salt upon the land,

In this world present, yet from it set free.

Our King approaches with the trumpet’s grand—

Redeemed, restored, for all eternity.

Fix eyes on glory past the temporal fray,

Where salt finds purpose in the Savior’s hand;

Not of this realm, yet salt till break of day—

In Christ our hope, the Rock on which we stand.