The School Where Jesus Trod

And it came to pass, as I journeyed through the gates thereof,  

I lifted up mine eyes, and behold, a place of peace.  

For the principal walked in the midst of the young,  

Speaking kindly unto them, as a shepherd among his flock.  

And the staff, with gladness of heart, greeted one another;  

They inquired after the welfare of their brethren,  

And they bare one another’s burdens,  

And lifted holy hands in prayer without ceasing.  

And the teachers ministered unto the children,  

Not in knowledge alone, but in spirit and in truth.  

They tended the souls committed unto them, 

Strengthening the weak, guiding the eager,  

And teaching with diligence, as stewards of a sacred trust.  

And the students rejoiced before the Lord;  

Their countenances were bright, and their hearts were steadfast.  

For they beheld a vision of excellence,  

And ran their race with patience,  

Knowing that character is the path,  

And Christ the Everlasting Light upon it.  

Thus was Christ in the midst of them,  

Even as the pillar of fire in the wilderness.  

And all things were done unto His glory;  

For excellence was their measure,  

And righteousness their crown.  

And I departed from thence with wonder in my soul,  

Saying, "Surely the Lord hath sanctified this place;  

Surely His hand is upon this people;  

And His praise shall be in their midst for evermore."

6/2/2026 (written in KJV style) 

The Cross We Carry

It is no sculpted timber raised against the sky,  

No monument of stone that time will calcify;  

The cross of Christ is nearer,

a weight against the bone,  

A truth that settles in the flesh  

when we must walk alone.  

It rests upon the heart in nights of aching loss,  

When graves are freshly dug  

and love bears winter’s cost.  

In bereavement’s hollow silence,  

when tears refuse to cease,  

His cross becomes our company,  

His wounds our borrowed peace.  

It presses on the body when pain will not relent,  

When breath is thin with suffering  

and strength feels nearly spent.  

For He too bore the torment  

that tore through nerve and vein;  

We find Him in our weakness,  

a fellowship of pain.  

It shadows us in moments  

when loved ones turned away,  

When rejection’s bitter sentence  

is all they choose to say.  

For Christ was left deserted,  

betrayed by those He knew;  

The cross becomes our shelter  

when hatred’s arrows flew.  

So let the world keep symbols  

of polished, distant grace,

The Christian bears a cross  

that time cannot erase.  

Held close against the body,  

engraved in soul and scar,  

It binds our wounds to Jesus’ wounds,  

and makes His suffering ours.  

Mark Humber 4/2/26

The Midnight Cry

A whisper stirs the dark, then rises like a flame:  

“Awake, you slumbering ones - the Bridegroom calls your name.”

The heavens hold their breath; the earth begins to sigh,  

For judgment walks the night when sounds the midnight cry.  

The days of Noah speak, their warning still alive,

A world absorbed in ease, yet doomed when floods arrive.  

So now the signs align; the hour draws swiftly near,  

And those who mock the truth will tremble when they hear.  

The trumpet soon will break the veil of mortal air;  

The Lord stands in the clouds, His glory to declare.  

The righteous rise in joy, the faithless shrink in dread,

For every secret thought is weighed and swiftly read.  

O people, heed the call - let hearts be trimmed with light;  

Cast off the works of dusk, walk sober in the night.  

The cry will split the skies, no moment to deny,

Be ready for the King, when comes the midnight cry.  

Mark Humber 4/2/2026