More than the words of a church service, Each of us is here to live out our purpose. There are the moments that we are inspired To move beyond exhaustion and tiredness.
There comes a time when something must be done, And we are kept alive by the Father and the Son. Stephen became a martyr bearing his witness, Upholding his faith despite persistent harshness.
The weight of life is as hard as it is real. Truth holds the profound beauty of the dead. Preservation has always been part of the story. Though it is painful, it is part of the glory.
Prayer best leads the spiritual journey. And if we are faithful to our very destiny. The early church was set out in holy Acts. It is a witnessed testimony to the spiritual facts.
Growth comes to the Christian community, And this brought conflict to the Christian family. Leaders must be chosen from those with a good reputation. This isn't trivial but an exacting point of limitation.
Lies often form the basis of accusations. This was the case against Stephen in full explanation. It is not blasphemy to end the concealment And to speak plainly how Christ came as the Bible's fulfillment.
Integrity demands the dropping of all pretense. Only what is true deserves our defense. Jesus, standing to the right of God, stood in full authority, And He did so to honor Stephen's wounded dignity.
Recognizing that frailty of mankind As Stephen was stoned, he forgave his attackers for being blind. Falsely accused of blasphemy, and not given any forgiveness, Stephen asked God that fallen humanity be so forgiven.
It is given that to be Christian leads to persecution. This is beyond any honest efforts at disputation. Persecution has continued through our modern day. Our best answer is to quietly and earnestly pray.
(c) October 21, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“The truth is that if Israel were to put down its arms, there would be no more Israel. If the Arabs were to put down their arms, there would be no more war.” – Benjamin Netanyahu
“God forbid that the day should ever come when, in the American mind, the thought of man as a consumer shall submerge the old American thought of man as a creature of God, endowed with unalienable rights.” – Benjamin Harrison
Even legends grow tired When age creeps in, and winter is cold. The will is no longer strong or fired Despite song sung in the days of old.
The price on one's grayed head Must be collected, alive or dead If it is worth anything at all. The winter's chill drops in from the Fall.
One more battle in which we may die, The balladeers sing as sure as they lie. They want to say it is for nobility, But it's nothing more than the test of capability.
If Robin dies, where does he go? The sun will shine, and winds will blow. In the end, who will know? All secrets are held deep inside the shadows.
The mountain passages begin again. It's the payment made for fresh sins. The tears of many flow and fall Before the Raven's last caw.
One more battle in which we may die, The balladeers sing as sure as they lie. They want to say it is for nobility, But it's nothing more than the test of capability.
So much of the savagery Was born from the camps of poverty. The mists of time reshape our history. It paints its legends in faith and mystery.
Under earth, we bury our dead. But they never vanish from our heads. The widows and orphans pray to be forgiven, But it won't happen in the age that we live in.
One more battle in which we may die, The balladeers sing as sure as they lie. They want to say it is for nobility, But it's nothing more than the test of capability.
(c) October 20, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“Architecture has its political Use; publick Buildings being the Ornament of a Country; it establishes a Nation, draws People and Commerce; makes the People love their native Country, which Passion is the Original of all great Actions in a Common-wealth…. Architecture aims at Eternity.” – Christopher Wren
“The laws should be rigidly enforced which prohibit the immigration of a servile class to compete with American labor, with no intention of acquiring citizenship, and bringing with them and retaining habits and customs repugnant to our civilization.” – Grover Cleveland
Lizzie Borden IV: Obscured Vanity by Michael Doyle
True to the nature of her kind, It's always another trick of the mind. Her ploy of seeded manipulation Made it a trigger pulled by devotion.
Lizzie found her way to womanhood Misunderstanding bad for good. The luck of the Irish made her bleed For the sake of something seeking to be freed.
As modern science turns its rusty pages, Passions know their bloody rages. The age of the well-positioned machine, Was a clever one to make Lizzie dream.
The matinee fell like an axe - With the truth exposed between the acts. There is so much for good girls to explore. It's only that Maggie wanted something more.
All the mischief that makes for jealousy often is the victim of feigned forgery. Souls are often lost for the sake of trickery. All that passes are the rites of obscured vanity.
What may seem elegant loses its charm As truth becomes unwanted, sounding the alarm. An actress can seem many things, but in the long run It is in being herself that she is undone.
In youth, so much outweighs the weight of preference. This becomes cast aside with fouled experience. Until shared together in a late-night reading Like Countess Bathory, all women are born for bleeding.
Life can be obsessed with so much cruelty, Where there is no love, there can be no loyalty. This is the price of life far too demanding, And with this comes a very tragic understanding.
(c) October 19, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“A society with too few independent thinkers is vulnerable to control by disturbed and opportunistic leaders. A society which wants to create and maintain a free and democratic social system must create responsible independence of thought among its young.” – John Dewey
And so we live today in nearly every direction. Don’t we?
I've led a life of scars Earned under the summer's stars. All around me, I've seen God move, And I've struggled to improve.
I was just another long-haired boy Lifting my voice with anger and joy. Overwhelmed by the moving score, I fought for that something more.
Now as I've grown older, I find myself a little less bolder. I've felt the crash of days, But I still have a heart full of praise.
Just one touch, found in just one word, The darkness comes stinging and blurred. Until the Lord taught me to see, His healing force was needed in my history.
Under midnight skies, I felt His power. There in the startle of that unforgiving hour. I found that I could be a better me with less of me And I surrendered myself to God's loving mystery.
Now as I've grown older, I find myself a little less bolder. I've felt the crash of days, But I still have a heart full of praise.
(c) October 18, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
Heading out of Australia to escape this Aussie winter. First stop Japan, then UK/Ireland and if work doesn't call me back, onto Chicago. I will make it up as I go along
