Last week, we stood at the dawn of creation—light breaking into the void, order rising from chaos, and the world shaped by divine wisdom and delight. Now the story deepens. Creation is no longer merely formed—it is inhabited.

Last week, we stood in awe as the war in heaven reached its climax—rebellion crushed, pride cast down, and heaven restored to peace. Now the scene shifts. No longer are we watching conflict in the heavens—we are invited into the very act of creation itself. Let there be light. Genesis 1:3

The War Revealed The archangel Raphael continues his account to Adam, now describing what had been hidden: war in Heaven. Satan, no longer content with inward rebellion, gathers his followers and dares the unthinkable—he makes war against God. What follows is not chaos, but order under strain. Michael and the faithful angels stand firm.

A Troubled Morning in Paradise The book opens quietly. Morning comes, as it always has.But Eve is not at peace. She has dreamed. In her dream, a voice calls her.She is led to the forbidden tree.A radiant being takes the fruit—and invites her to do the same. She reaches… And wakes. ⚠️ The First Crack: Temptation Before the Fall Nothing has happened yet. No sin.No rebellion.No broken command. And yet—everything has changed. Because temptation has now entered within.

In Book IV of Paradise Lost, John Milton brings us down to earth—into Eden itself. Here, creation is not merely admired; it is inhabited. The air is alive, the landscape abundant, and everything exists in right relationship. And at the center of it all: Adam and Eve. They are not yet burdened by shame, nor divided within themselves. Their work is joyful. Their love is pure. Their communion with God is natural, not strained or hidden. Milton writes of them:

Last week we followed Satan across Chaos, that terrible gulf between Hell and the new creation. Milton made us feel the distance, the darkness, and the dreadful determination of evil moving toward its object. Now at last the long road ends. Satan comes to the threshold. And what he sees is beauty.

Milton gives us a moment of stillness before the journey begins. The fallen angels remain behind in Pandemonium — busy, restless, trying to build a kind of order in their ruin. But Satan rises above them all, not merely in rank, but in will. He chooses the hardest path. Not out of humility — Milton never lets us mistake that — but out of a fierce, consuming pride. Better to reign in Hell, he has said. And now he will prove it by action.

Last week, we began our journey into Paradise Lost by John Milton. Milton opened the poem with a solemn declaration of his purpose: to tell the story of man’s first disobedience and to “justify the ways of God to men.” Now the story itself begins. And it begins not in Eden — but in Hell.

Why Paradise Lost? Milton wrote this epic in the aftermath of political collapse. England had executed a king, tried a republic, and restored the monarchy. Milton himself had defended the Commonwealth and lost both position and eyesight in the struggle. Blind, disgraced, and physically broken, he dictated this poem. And what did he choose to write about? Not politics. Not his enemies. Not his suffering. He went back to Genesis. He went back to the beginning.

So this week, we step briefly away from epic poetry and linger with a short devotional poem: “I Met the Master Face to Face” by Lorrie Cline. This poem does not argue or explain. It testifies. And like many true testimonies, it begins with confidence. I met the Master face to face,And told Him all my heart;I said my doubts and fears were gone, And faith had made me whole.

Thomas Pollock’s hymn, “We Have Not Known Thee as We Ought,” stands among the most honest devotional texts in the English Christian tradition. In five carefully ordered stanzas, Pollock leads us through the interior life of faith — knowing, fearing, loving, serving, and hoping — each marked not by self-confidence, but by humble confession and prayer.

The turning of the year is always bittersweet. We look back with gratitude, sometimes with sorrow — and we look forward with hope, sometimes with trembling. We stand between “what has been” and “what may yet be.” Few poems capture that holy tension like Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s “Ring Out, Wild Bells.” It appears as Canto CVI in his long work In Memoriam, written over many years in the wake of the early death of his closest friend, Arthur Hallam.

Christmas poems offer beauty beyond measure, also light, truth, and love. Hundreds of poets have given us verse honoring this event.

Cowper’s personal trials forged in him a deep trust in God’s sovereignty. Out of that furnace came this poem, which gave the English-speaking world one of the most quoted lines ever written: “God moves in a mysterious wayHis wonders to perform.”

Milton, blind at mid-life, wrestled with what you and I both know: that usefulness before God is not measured by activity, but by faithfulness.He feared his light was “spent,” yet Patience reminded him — “They also serve who only stand and wait.” When we can no longer labor as before, we can still trust, pray, and shine inwardly.The same God who s

This motto hung over the desk in our hallway at 658 Monroe Avenue for 50 years. --Every time I sat down at that desk it made me think, "Am I doing this for Christ?" --I carry that thought with me today and have given that plaque to many loved ones. --C.T. Thought about this and gave his life as a missionary to the lost souls of Africa. --He didn;thave to do this; he was rich and famous, but he knew those things would not last.

I knew such women when I needed them most, when I was filled with passion. ---They were like Britomart in purity and worship manifested in their beauty. ---Faithfulness and a meek and quiet spirit was their way. ---We see them in Dante's Beatrice, Dickens' Agnes, and Jepthah's daughter. They can only be found in the beauties of holiness from the womb of the morning: (Psalm 110:3

Henry Vaughan’s voice rings across the centuries with clarity and consolation. In “They Are All Gone into the World of Light” he gives us a vision of death not as an end, but as a radiant passage. In “My Soul, There Is a Country” he directs us to our true homeland in Christ* (4BC - 30AD) the eternal fortress of peace.

Christina Rossetti (1830–1894) is one of the most beloved devotional poets in the English tradition. A woman of deep Christian faith, she wrote with simplicity, tenderness, and unflinching honesty about both human grief and divine hope. In this post, we will look at two of her poems — “Remember” and “The Lowest Place” — to see how Rossetti’s words still speak into our own longing for consolation and our call to humility in Christ* .(4BC -30AD)

My Dad used to recite/preach this poem in our Pentecostal Church. ---The unspoken subtext was that those sitting there were the old dry bones. ---Many were quite reserved Holy Ghost people, living for Jesus, but not very actively. ---I will never forget Sister Charlotte, who suddenly cried out, --Hallelujah, Hallelujah!! HALLELUJAH!! and afterward apologized, "I didn't mean to disrupt the service, Brother Kalis, but the Spirit of the Lord came over me so powerful that I just