Treasured Jars of Clay

by Lupe’ King

At times Father (God) gifts me with letters to God and His responses, insights, poetry and writings, at times it is a painting with a prophetic word, at times just a painting, at times just a prophetic word…and so I share these with you that the airwaves would be permeated with His Presence.

Reflection came to me at a time when two Firemen were killed in a fire as they attempted  a rescue just this past year and I wrote this poem with them and their loved ones  in mind as I felt the heart of God express itself through this poem and this writing.


Treasured Jars of Clay


Beautiful aroma released from treasured jars of clay,

broken… shattered… a balm is released…


Loss seen through human eyes transformed into memories

and better days yet known.


Days of greatness now remain inscribed upon

the aching and the grieving heart and soul.


Treasured thoughts released via endless tears…

each one bears a date, a time, a laugh, a joy,

a song, a dance…


Deep conversations, light-hearted jokes,

decisions made and followed through…

what if-s, but-s, and maybe-s…roll and roll around

like endless waves…


But then the sun (Son) shines and we are O’ so glad

and thankful for the life now taken-up

that we would live…and LIVE we will, we shall, we MUST!!!


Sacrifice was made on our behalves

that we would live…


Someone died that life would take wings

and fly in glorious flight and so it has…


And so we fly, higher and higher,

until we touch the face of God

and finally through unveiled eyes we see,

we sense the beautiful faces gathered up,

now resplendent as glorious lights-


Heaven is much brighter this day

and our lives bear great, great meaning,

because someone cared enough to die.

L King  2015

My God, I will weep when I cannot plead, for thou hears  the sound

of my weeping.”  (Charles Spurgeon)

Dear God, desperate times call for desperate measures!  Thank You Father, that at times desperation causes our knees to bow and our tongues to confess that You are Lord.

Father thank You for the Martyrs of the past and of the now.  My thought has always been that Martyrs are born not made.

A Martyr never knows when his/her time will come, it just does.  They are always busy thinking and doing, and making the world a better place that they never contemplate death.  To them it is always all about living and life.  They come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and ages, they are men, women, and children.

I know now in this day and time, Martyrs that are waiting to happen.  I have come to recognize them by who they are as human beings and what they do and how they live their lives.They are selfless, consider everyone else better than themselves, they continually walk the extra mile without complaining.  It is not because they want to be known, it is because they know how to love.  They live a life of raw simplicity, drawn through their love to the broken and the unacknowledged.

Their lives are based on wholeness and completion; tired and exhausted at the end of the day; they collapse in complete rest and full of joy!

Bless You Daddy for the Martyrs of the past and the here and now and thank You for the example that they follow of the greatest Martyr/King ever known Jesus Christ, The Son of God!

Much Love to You, Daddy

Your servant now and in the life to come


My Beautiful One, how good it is to hear from you!  As always My heart is well pleased when you seek My face just to share with Me, you know how I feel about fellowship!

My heart breaks each and every time one of My children ceases to exist in their earthly tabernacles and I weep for the loss of all…yet heaven rejoices as I see each one finally arrive at their final glorious destination, their heavenly home!

O’ the raucous My angels make!  The applause of all their fore-fathers arise and there is no place in the atmosphere of heaven where there is no joyous sound! 

I know you are sad, My daughter, My friend, I hear your heart break and I see the tears; not unlike My own, flow for those that died in the fire…

I know I heard your heart when it cried out, “Tonight O’ God someone’s father, someone’s son, will not come home, someone’s husband will not be sharing their day at the dinner table with his family!”

O’ how I have wept with you!  You have My heart!  Know that I am with those that remain; every father, mother, wife, sister, brother, son, and daughter.  I will see them through the difficult and sad times as they must continue to live without those they have loved so much…for a time.

Thank you for Your prayers for them, know that they make a difference, both there and here in heaven.

Hearts that break for the things that break My heart are My keepsakes in heaven.

How I love You, My Beautiful One, the apple of My eye.

Forever Your Father who loves you

Your ABBA-Heart of Compassion

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.