February 19, 2012
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Oh My Lord, Another beautiful life has been claimed in the world of great singers, and they sang her toward heaven today where she began singing in your name a long time ago. Whitney Houston had an incredible voice, and to say that she was a beautiful woman is an under assessment, for she was exquisite, but something horrible called her life away, and we will not know for a few weeks, but the rumor is out there that it was probably something to do with drugs, and we want to ask you why? “Oh dear Lord; why has another child who sang your praises been taken from us before her voice could even become the elder voice like Mahelia Jackson on a Christmas morning?”
We are asking, and it is troubling, so troubling, because it is taking our children, our children’s role models, and every soul it can snatch like a viper in a cage with a lock too loose; Oh yea!! It is taking the best, the beautiful, and the kids like Lindsey Lohan, and we ache in the suffering. It is as if they are all in church and the poisoned water is just too poison and those who think that the apostle,, Mark, meant to literally drink poison water in the house of God to show the devil you have no fear, and the water taste sweeter than usual and all who drink too much lay near death, and the devil is soaring over them with smiles, dropping dead flowers like the ones that will cover their graves when the sun gets hot. Mark should have said it better that the water was that which flowed pure and clean and washed away the sins of man, right there, down there at the River, Jordan, not a concoction the devil wanted you to try like the drugs laying out on a table luring folks to take these in; “Take these in,” whispers the devil,” for the anti Christ knows not to speak loudly, or the message will not sound so sweet.
Swing low little girl, “Whitney,” and meet the others there who knew too late that the voice in the night was too dark, and the fool lover who invited you in to that nasty miserable place you got in and could not leave–They will show you that his teeth sparkle like diamonds on the other side, for he sold his soul to have yours. Sleep little girl, just sleep, and we are all going to rest with one eye open, for if an angel like you could be claimed, then what chance is there for a bunch of sick old bones like the rest of ours. You were so exquisite though, that Evil’s thirst might feel satisfied for a while, but I am thinking about you tonight, knowing that you sang out loud and pure for the Lord.
I want you to know too that once a preacher told us one Sunday morning that Saturday night was the Devil’s night, and I did not think much of it until this day when the television showed them taking you from that church in a fine coffin, and your voice was singing, “I will always love you,” and you will and you did; But something happened and they laid you to rest of the Devil’s day, this Saturday, when the night is wrong, warm in winter, and all that hurt you that was evil stood on the sidelines getting ready for the Devil to come, for it is after all, a Saturday night.
Rest sweet child, and sing so we can hear your voice from the grave. Oh yes; sing little girl, for maybe some other child might hear before the pounce on her with their evil deeds and wicked souls. Hush now; listen lonely people, but listen from the grave, for the Devil is often hungry on a Saturday night, and it is going to take a child to fix all of us. Swing low Little Girl; Go home to Jesus, for he’s calling again, and it is your supper time. Sing and be done, for your body hit the ground today, but your soul; It is swirling like the soft wind over Detrot in the years when it is wrong for it to be warm in February. BEH — I;m sending some pinkhoneysuckles, and you will know that I knew your secrets — Those that made the vault just crack when the last note was sung…
