My poetry sounds like something from an earlier age. That makes sense because a lot of my reading is of earlier writers; I find their focus is different than much of what is out in our day and time. It seems to me that those who went before us were centered more on knowing God Himself rather than knowing about Him and what He can do for us. I'm sure that all of what gets written today is valid and worth knowing; it's just that my heart has been made captive to the One who died and rose again for me and I gravitate to those things that echo my attraction to Him.
So if my verse sounds like its lifted from an old hymnal, its because that language is what I've fed my spirit with, and that's what comes out. Actually, I prefer it this way; earlier writings were more weighty, more impacting. So if thou art ready, read on.
Oh, grace of God in Christ,
I raise my paen to Thee,
That ope'd my eyes, revived my soul,
And set my spirit free.
Thou many-hymned bequest of God,
How much to Thee I owe;
My eyes were closed to all above,
But not to here below,
For my delight in sensual usts
Did leap and bound apace;
I'd have no sense of things above
'Twere not for sovereign grace.
You snatched me from the miry clay,
From the very jaws of hell,
And set me firm upon the Rock,
And this I know full well.
For grace has set before me now
A land so vast, so fair,
And Eden of Thy pleasures, Lord,
And I am happy there.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Friday, May 04, 2007
THE WELL BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD
I turned off one day from the much-beaten path
And there I did find an old well,
It was nearly half-hid by the side of the road
In a quaint little countryside dell
At the edge of a forest quite dark and quite deep
By the side of the old, dusty road,
Where the leaves grew so thick and the shadows they creeped,
And I stopped there and laid down my load.
A much-hurried traveler would never have seen
This place that by chance I had found,
But I was so weary and needed to rest,
So I stopped and laid my burden down.
Some grass grew around the side of the well;
I could tell it was not worn with wear
As it might have been if a multitude
Of others had often been there.
The stones were quite cool and damp to the touch,
In the shade of the green forest trees,
And I was refreshed just by being there
And caressed by a soft, gentle breeze.
I took off my hat and I laid down my staff,
Moved the planks from the mouth of the well;
Then I turned the crank and let down the wood pail
To bring water up from the well.
Never before had I drunk such as this -
'Twas so cool and so sweet and so pure;
It refreshed me throughout and I knew I had found
What I had been long searching for.
'Twas the water of life, for the well it was Christ,
And I felt I had met there with God.
And to think that I almost - I could have passed by
The well by the side of the road.
And there I did find an old well,
It was nearly half-hid by the side of the road
In a quaint little countryside dell
At the edge of a forest quite dark and quite deep
By the side of the old, dusty road,
Where the leaves grew so thick and the shadows they creeped,
And I stopped there and laid down my load.
A much-hurried traveler would never have seen
This place that by chance I had found,
But I was so weary and needed to rest,
So I stopped and laid my burden down.
Some grass grew around the side of the well;
I could tell it was not worn with wear
As it might have been if a multitude
Of others had often been there.
The stones were quite cool and damp to the touch,
In the shade of the green forest trees,
And I was refreshed just by being there
And caressed by a soft, gentle breeze.
I took off my hat and I laid down my staff,
Moved the planks from the mouth of the well;
Then I turned the crank and let down the wood pail
To bring water up from the well.
Never before had I drunk such as this -
'Twas so cool and so sweet and so pure;
It refreshed me throughout and I knew I had found
What I had been long searching for.
'Twas the water of life, for the well it was Christ,
And I felt I had met there with God.
And to think that I almost - I could have passed by
The well by the side of the road.
Monday, April 23, 2007
CLOTHED IN LIGHT
The swaddling clothes of infancy
Envelop Him no more;
The manger could not hold Him
Nor the things that once He wore.
He took a towel and girt Himself
And washed disciples' feet;
He wore it in humility
And would make us as meek.
The purple robe that mocked Him
Lies crumpled on the floor;
They could not mar His majesty,
Of kings the King, of lords the Lord.
He seamless robe, the symbol
Of perfected humanity,
Lies underneath the cross,
His gift to you and me.
A vesture dipped in blood He wore
Who is Faithful, Who is True,
In righteousness to judge and war
And make creation new.
The tomb is dark and empty,
Save the linen cloth He wore
In death, for He is risen
And lives forevermore.
And now He clothes Himself with light,
With honor and majesty,
The mighty God, the Holy One,
Forever exalted, He.
Envelop Him no more;
The manger could not hold Him
Nor the things that once He wore.
He took a towel and girt Himself
And washed disciples' feet;
He wore it in humility
And would make us as meek.
The purple robe that mocked Him
Lies crumpled on the floor;
They could not mar His majesty,
Of kings the King, of lords the Lord.
He seamless robe, the symbol
Of perfected humanity,
Lies underneath the cross,
His gift to you and me.
A vesture dipped in blood He wore
Who is Faithful, Who is True,
In righteousness to judge and war
And make creation new.
The tomb is dark and empty,
Save the linen cloth He wore
In death, for He is risen
And lives forevermore.
And now He clothes Himself with light,
With honor and majesty,
The mighty God, the Holy One,
Forever exalted, He.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
SMITE THE ROCK
Moses smote the rock and
God reprimanded him;
He was only to have spoken -
It was a grievous sin.
Yet the Rock Himself was smitten
For sinners, we are told;
And we who once were broken
In Him are now made whole.
God reprimanded him;
He was only to have spoken -
It was a grievous sin.
Yet the Rock Himself was smitten
For sinners, we are told;
And we who once were broken
In Him are now made whole.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
THERE WAS A STONE
There was a stone that covered the grave
Where the crucified Savior was lain,
After they mocked Him and shamed Him to scorn
And whipped Him and beat Him again.
After they put on His sweet the thorns
And the blood covered Him like the tide,
After they pierced Him with nails in His hands
And His feet and then hung Him to die.
There was a stone that said "Herein is death,
I have conquered the Author of Life,"
A stone that was strong as the forces of hell,
A stone that men thought would suffice.
There was a Rock that lay inside the grave
Behind the terrible stone,
A Rock that arose like the dawn when the sun
First appeared, and, oh, how it shone!
And the Rock rolled the stone away from the grave
And came forth like a lionly king,
And the grave, which was death, and hell, like the stone,
Would never more triumph again.
Is there a stone that covers the grave
Where your hopes and your dreams have been lain?
Let the Rock, which is Christ, rise within like the dawn
And you'll never know sorrow again.
For He'll roll the stone away from your life
And your heart will be wonderfully free;
For Jesus, the Rock, is the Author of Life
And together forever you'll be.
Where the crucified Savior was lain,
After they mocked Him and shamed Him to scorn
And whipped Him and beat Him again.
After they put on His sweet the thorns
And the blood covered Him like the tide,
After they pierced Him with nails in His hands
And His feet and then hung Him to die.
There was a stone that said "Herein is death,
I have conquered the Author of Life,"
A stone that was strong as the forces of hell,
A stone that men thought would suffice.
There was a Rock that lay inside the grave
Behind the terrible stone,
A Rock that arose like the dawn when the sun
First appeared, and, oh, how it shone!
And the Rock rolled the stone away from the grave
And came forth like a lionly king,
And the grave, which was death, and hell, like the stone,
Would never more triumph again.
Is there a stone that covers the grave
Where your hopes and your dreams have been lain?
Let the Rock, which is Christ, rise within like the dawn
And you'll never know sorrow again.
For He'll roll the stone away from your life
And your heart will be wonderfully free;
For Jesus, the Rock, is the Author of Life
And together forever you'll be.
THERE WAS A STONE
There was a stone that covered the grave
Where the crucified Savior was lain,
After they mocked Him and shamed Him to scorn
And whipped Him and beat Him again.
After they put on His sweet the thorns
And the blood covered Him like the tide,
After they pierced Him with nails in His hands
And His feet and then hung Him to die.
There was a stone that said "Herein is death,
I have conquered the Author of Life,"
A stone that was strong as the forces of hell,
A stone that men thought would suffice.
There was a Rock that lay inside the grave
Behind the terrible stone,
A Rock that arose like the dawn when the sun
First appeared, and, oh, how it shone!
And the Rock rolled the stone away from the grave
And came forth like a lionly king,
And the grave, which was death, and hell, like the stone,
Would never more triumph again.
Is there a stone that covers the grave
Where your hopes and your dreams have been lain?
Let the Rock, which is Christ, rise within like the dawn
And you'll never know sorrow again.
For He'll roll the stone away from your life
And your heart will be wonderfully free;
For Jesus, the Rock, is the Author of Life
And together forever you'll be.
Where the crucified Savior was lain,
After they mocked Him and shamed Him to scorn
And whipped Him and beat Him again.
After they put on His sweet the thorns
And the blood covered Him like the tide,
After they pierced Him with nails in His hands
And His feet and then hung Him to die.
There was a stone that said "Herein is death,
I have conquered the Author of Life,"
A stone that was strong as the forces of hell,
A stone that men thought would suffice.
There was a Rock that lay inside the grave
Behind the terrible stone,
A Rock that arose like the dawn when the sun
First appeared, and, oh, how it shone!
And the Rock rolled the stone away from the grave
And came forth like a lionly king,
And the grave, which was death, and hell, like the stone,
Would never more triumph again.
Is there a stone that covers the grave
Where your hopes and your dreams have been lain?
Let the Rock, which is Christ, rise within like the dawn
And you'll never know sorrow again.
For He'll roll the stone away from your life
And your heart will be wonderfully free;
For Jesus, the Rock, is the Author of Life
And together forever you'll be.
Monday, April 02, 2007
BETRAYED WITH A KISS
A line from a Michael Card song has stayed with me for a long time: "Only a friend can betray a friend." How must Jesus have felt when one of the twelve betrayed Him with a kiss? It was the violence of the crucifixion that killed Him, but was the tenderness of the betrayal any less violent? If He is betrayed so softly, could I, who would never dream of doing Him violence, do the same?
Peter, who had been so zealous (don't we get zealous and quote "The zeal of the Lord has eaten me up?") denied Him not once, but three times. After that we read that "All his disciples forsook him and fled."
His disciples all forsook Him but the dying thief confessed Him for who He really is. Maybe we don't really know what we'll do; maybe all we can do is ask "Lord, is it I?" It wasn't until after they received the Holy Spirit that the disciples had any kind of spiritual grit; oh, how we need that same Holy Spirit to make us into that people that will be always true to Him.
Betrayed with a kiss in the garden
By one who had long walked with Thee,
By one who had sat at Thy table,
By a disciple who knew Thee; 'twas he
Who for just thirty pieces of silver
Sold Thee to sinners to die.
'Twas not by an enemy hardened
But a friend who had known Thee, so nigh.
Denied by another disicple
Three times, saying he knew Thee not,
Forsaken by all of Thy fellows,
By Thy friends; such was Thy lot.
And I, in the hour of trial,
Will I sell Thee out? Will I lie?
Will I be the one to betray Thee
Again? O Lord, is it I?
May I then be one who is stedfast
To suffer and walk by Thy side,
To confess it is I who doth know Thee,
And to know that I never have lied
About Jesus, the true Friend of Sinners,
Who confessed to the Father my name,
Who never, no never, betrayed me;
O Lord, may I do the same.
Peter, who had been so zealous (don't we get zealous and quote "The zeal of the Lord has eaten me up?") denied Him not once, but three times. After that we read that "All his disciples forsook him and fled."
His disciples all forsook Him but the dying thief confessed Him for who He really is. Maybe we don't really know what we'll do; maybe all we can do is ask "Lord, is it I?" It wasn't until after they received the Holy Spirit that the disciples had any kind of spiritual grit; oh, how we need that same Holy Spirit to make us into that people that will be always true to Him.
Betrayed with a kiss in the garden
By one who had long walked with Thee,
By one who had sat at Thy table,
By a disciple who knew Thee; 'twas he
Who for just thirty pieces of silver
Sold Thee to sinners to die.
'Twas not by an enemy hardened
But a friend who had known Thee, so nigh.
Denied by another disicple
Three times, saying he knew Thee not,
Forsaken by all of Thy fellows,
By Thy friends; such was Thy lot.
And I, in the hour of trial,
Will I sell Thee out? Will I lie?
Will I be the one to betray Thee
Again? O Lord, is it I?
May I then be one who is stedfast
To suffer and walk by Thy side,
To confess it is I who doth know Thee,
And to know that I never have lied
About Jesus, the true Friend of Sinners,
Who confessed to the Father my name,
Who never, no never, betrayed me;
O Lord, may I do the same.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
MEA CULPA
Are we not prone to look down on those who participated in Jesus' death and consider them more guilty than we? The truth is that we are more guilty than them all put together for it was for our sins that He died. Judas, Pilate, Barnabas, and the Roman soldiers were only the instruments used to crucify the Son of God; we were the guilty ones, the reason that He died, and our guilt piles up to the heavens and beyond, like thunder clouds, far exceeding theirs.
I was Judas, who with a kiss,
Betrayed Him in the garden; this
Was my doing on that day,
As all my sins on Him were laid.
My sinful acts were like the lash
That opened every wound and gash;
Every deed that I had done
Brought this horror to the Son.
'Twas my iniquities adorned
His head just as the crown of thorns;
My each and every evil deed
Caused the precious Lamb to bleed.
I, the Pilate, who decreed
That the Lamb of God must bleed;
'Twas my hypocrisy that day
That made them carry Him away.
No Roman soldier more than I
Caused the Son of God to die.
It was my sins that nailed Him there,
Lord Jesus Christ, so sweet, so fair.
Three nails impaled Him on the tree -
My passions, lust, and cruelty;
The things I did, and said and thought
All this cruel torture wrought.
The spear that pierced my Savior's side
Was my pride I cannot hide,
That made the blood and water flow,
These were the things that hurt Him so.
The lightning flashed, the thunder rolled,
And I the Barnabas who sold
The Son of God to bleed and die
And buy for me eternal life.
I was Judas, who with a kiss,
Betrayed Him in the garden; this
Was my doing on that day,
As all my sins on Him were laid.
My sinful acts were like the lash
That opened every wound and gash;
Every deed that I had done
Brought this horror to the Son.
'Twas my iniquities adorned
His head just as the crown of thorns;
My each and every evil deed
Caused the precious Lamb to bleed.
I, the Pilate, who decreed
That the Lamb of God must bleed;
'Twas my hypocrisy that day
That made them carry Him away.
No Roman soldier more than I
Caused the Son of God to die.
It was my sins that nailed Him there,
Lord Jesus Christ, so sweet, so fair.
Three nails impaled Him on the tree -
My passions, lust, and cruelty;
The things I did, and said and thought
All this cruel torture wrought.
The spear that pierced my Savior's side
Was my pride I cannot hide,
That made the blood and water flow,
These were the things that hurt Him so.
The lightning flashed, the thunder rolled,
And I the Barnabas who sold
The Son of God to bleed and die
And buy for me eternal life.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Man of Sorrows (Isaiah 53)
He hath no form nor comeliness
That he should be desired,
No beauty to be seen in him
That he should be admired.
He is rejected and despised,
An man of sorrows, he,
With grief acquainted, and we hid
Our faces, nor esteemed
Him who all our griefs hath borne,
Our sorrows carried, too.
We did esteem him stricken and
Smitten and afflicted who
For our transgressions wounded was,
For our iniquities was bruised;
For ou peace he was chastised,
Him who we refused.
With his many stripes we're healed,
Like sheep we've gone astray;
On him the Lord our sins has laid,
Who turned to our own way.
Afflicted and oppressed he was,
Taken in his youth,
A slaughtered lamb, a shearéd sheep,
But opened not his mouth.
Ye it pleased the Lord to bruise him there,
And put to grief and die;
Yet he shall see of his travial
And shall be satisfied.
That he should be desired,
No beauty to be seen in him
That he should be admired.
He is rejected and despised,
An man of sorrows, he,
With grief acquainted, and we hid
Our faces, nor esteemed
Him who all our griefs hath borne,
Our sorrows carried, too.
We did esteem him stricken and
Smitten and afflicted who
For our transgressions wounded was,
For our iniquities was bruised;
For ou peace he was chastised,
Him who we refused.
With his many stripes we're healed,
Like sheep we've gone astray;
On him the Lord our sins has laid,
Who turned to our own way.
Afflicted and oppressed he was,
Taken in his youth,
A slaughtered lamb, a shearéd sheep,
But opened not his mouth.
Ye it pleased the Lord to bruise him there,
And put to grief and die;
Yet he shall see of his travial
And shall be satisfied.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
THE UNDIVIDED HEART
I want to praise you, Lord,
With an undivided heart,
Unrent, untorn, unriven,
The whole, and not the part.
An undivided heart
That knows no other God,
That keeps no darling lust,
That gives not sin a nod.
As Israel was divided,
So, too, my heart has been,
And I have had two kingdoms -
One for Thee and one for sin.
But now I crown Thee King,
Like David, o'er the whole,
To rule my heart and will,
Spirit, body, soul.
With an undivided heart,
Unrent, untorn, unriven,
The whole, and not the part.
An undivided heart
That knows no other God,
That keeps no darling lust,
That gives not sin a nod.
As Israel was divided,
So, too, my heart has been,
And I have had two kingdoms -
One for Thee and one for sin.
But now I crown Thee King,
Like David, o'er the whole,
To rule my heart and will,
Spirit, body, soul.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Heavenly Fire
As flames rise upward, Lord, I rise
And seek my God to know.
As Thy Spirit my flame doth blow
I soar to upper skies.
As the flame consumes the wood
So my soul, so parched and dry,
Is subsumed as in Thee I die;
In Thee I live to seek Thy good.
The ashes only there remain,
My soul, bound up in the bundle of life
With Thee, is released from death.
I find that all my loss is gain.
I was dead but now I live;
A living flame I rise with Thee.
A captive once, I now am free,
Lost in Thy life, my praise I give.
And seek my God to know.
As Thy Spirit my flame doth blow
I soar to upper skies.
As the flame consumes the wood
So my soul, so parched and dry,
Is subsumed as in Thee I die;
In Thee I live to seek Thy good.
The ashes only there remain,
My soul, bound up in the bundle of life
With Thee, is released from death.
I find that all my loss is gain.
I was dead but now I live;
A living flame I rise with Thee.
A captive once, I now am free,
Lost in Thy life, my praise I give.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
The Quest
If I could but draw near to Thee
Again, as I have so 'oft before;
If I could hear Thy gentle voice
And see Thy face once more.
Thou'rt constantly upon my mind
Yet my spirit wanders far away
From Thee. O Lord, where is that place
Where I may dwell alway?
Like David, chased from vale to glen,
I hide in caves and wilderness.
I seek but Thee, my Lord, to know,
I seek but, Lord, Thy face.
My heart pants after Thee, O Christ,
My soul pursueth Thee, and hard.
Hear Thou my plea and come to me
My Savior, and my God.
For in Thy Presence sheer delight
And light and life I find;
I learn that in Thee all is well,
I learn that Thou art kind.
Again, as I have so 'oft before;
If I could hear Thy gentle voice
And see Thy face once more.
Thou'rt constantly upon my mind
Yet my spirit wanders far away
From Thee. O Lord, where is that place
Where I may dwell alway?
Like David, chased from vale to glen,
I hide in caves and wilderness.
I seek but Thee, my Lord, to know,
I seek but, Lord, Thy face.
My heart pants after Thee, O Christ,
My soul pursueth Thee, and hard.
Hear Thou my plea and come to me
My Savior, and my God.
For in Thy Presence sheer delight
And light and life I find;
I learn that in Thee all is well,
I learn that Thou art kind.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Fire By Night
Oh night, thou hidest my God from me;
In thy dark shades I cannot see.
Where can I run from thee to'escape?
Where e'er I run I find but thee.
Slumber doth my eyelids lade
And memories of my Savior fade.
And nowhere in thy dark estate
Is there a peaceful glen or glade.
But when is most extreme my plight
Then Lo! I see a flick'ring light!
My Savior God at last appears,
And darkness then must take it's flight.
For my God in darkness dwells,
All the world His Kingdom tells.
The light becomes a pillar of fire,
E'en at night, then, all is well.
In thy dark shades I cannot see.
Where can I run from thee to'escape?
Where e'er I run I find but thee.
Slumber doth my eyelids lade
And memories of my Savior fade.
And nowhere in thy dark estate
Is there a peaceful glen or glade.
But when is most extreme my plight
Then Lo! I see a flick'ring light!
My Savior God at last appears,
And darkness then must take it's flight.
For my God in darkness dwells,
All the world His Kingdom tells.
The light becomes a pillar of fire,
E'en at night, then, all is well.
Monday, January 29, 2007
New Every Day
Fit me for the battle, Lord,
Each morn anew, when I arise
To things around me, good and bad,
Give me to see, Lord, ope' my eyes.
Dulled by sleep and night's dark shades,
My spirit cannot pray aright
'Til Thou dost quicken with Thy breath
And bring anew Thy love and light.
My spirit is so cold and dull,
It lacks the impulses to move
It needs to feel Thy touch of fire,
It needs to know that Thou art love.
Like the sun, which every morn
Doth run the race, it's course doth take,
So may I rise and look above
My soul to fill, my thirst to slake.
Some spice, some balm, some precious word
Give to me as to make my way
From this dull lowland where I dwell
To heights above, new every day.
Each morn anew, when I arise
To things around me, good and bad,
Give me to see, Lord, ope' my eyes.
Dulled by sleep and night's dark shades,
My spirit cannot pray aright
'Til Thou dost quicken with Thy breath
And bring anew Thy love and light.
My spirit is so cold and dull,
It lacks the impulses to move
It needs to feel Thy touch of fire,
It needs to know that Thou art love.
Like the sun, which every morn
Doth run the race, it's course doth take,
So may I rise and look above
My soul to fill, my thirst to slake.
Some spice, some balm, some precious word
Give to me as to make my way
From this dull lowland where I dwell
To heights above, new every day.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Fields Of Diamonds
I am like a man who walks in fields of diamonds and cares for nothing more than his clothes, his house, his bread. With riches all around me, I continue blindly, pursing stones and pebbles while diamonds turn to dust. The blessings of the Lord are mine at every moment, his love, his life, his law, and I have but to look. I have but to stop and eat this living bread, I have but to drink from this life-giving stream.
And so I look to Jesus, the fairest of ten thousand, and find there all I need and more than I can hold. His riches far exceed all of this world's empty treasures, his wonders far surpass all I ever had before. His beauty is unmeasured and his grace knows of no limits, his love is like a fountain ever flowing without end, a vast uncharted ocean and I am in its center, my life caught up in his, and I am whole again.
And so I look to Jesus, the fairest of ten thousand, and find there all I need and more than I can hold. His riches far exceed all of this world's empty treasures, his wonders far surpass all I ever had before. His beauty is unmeasured and his grace knows of no limits, his love is like a fountain ever flowing without end, a vast uncharted ocean and I am in its center, my life caught up in his, and I am whole again.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
The Open Sea
Set sail, my heart, upon the open sea,
Redeeming love's vast immensity.
Strike the sails and weigh the anchor fast;
The unknown way calls out and beckons thee.
There is a call from deep to deep today,
It stirs my blood and calls me on this way.
Though seas shall roll and skies be overcast
We'll undertake this journey come what may.
Fear not for dangers that may there be found
For we have heard love's joyful, swelling sound
Of peace and joy and love and light to last;
We'll go where such as these are to be found.
The Book shall be our compass and our guide,
The Spirit fill our sails upon the tide.
Our sail is faith, love becomes the mast;
Our rigging, hope, to cross the ocean wide.
Redeeming love's vast immensity.
Strike the sails and weigh the anchor fast;
The unknown way calls out and beckons thee.
There is a call from deep to deep today,
It stirs my blood and calls me on this way.
Though seas shall roll and skies be overcast
We'll undertake this journey come what may.
Fear not for dangers that may there be found
For we have heard love's joyful, swelling sound
Of peace and joy and love and light to last;
We'll go where such as these are to be found.
The Book shall be our compass and our guide,
The Spirit fill our sails upon the tide.
Our sail is faith, love becomes the mast;
Our rigging, hope, to cross the ocean wide.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
THE CHRIST OF EVERY WAY
I get so immersed in the holidays that when they're over it's a shock to my system. This little piece came out of that experience this year.
THE CHRIST OF EVERY WAY
When Christmas was all put away …
When the decorations were returned once again to their place in the attic and the Christmas cookies had all been eaten, when the tree was sitting out at the curb waiting for the trash man, leaving a trail of tinsel down the driveway, when the presents were no longer sitting on the living room coffee table but had found homes in dressers, closets and shelves, when the Christmas Carol CD’s were back in their cases and returned to their places next to Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennet, Brahms, Beethoven and Mozart, when January 2 dawned cold and rainy and the family all had to go back to school and work …
That’s when I heard Jesus say
“I am the Christ for every day,
I am the Christ of every way.”
Not just for times and seasons gay …
Not just for the special days and seasons when we sense the wonder of His incarnation, the impact of His crucifixion, and the power of His resurrection; not just for the times that come already marked on our calendars, not just for occasions at church deserving choirs and cantatas and costumed plays, not just for those recurring occasions that stir our memories of childhood and times past …
If we listen we can hear Him say
“I am the Christ for every day,
I am the Christ of every way.”
He is there for those very ordinary days …
For those days for which nothing is written on our calendars, for those days when we wake up with a headache and get through our routines by sheer force of will, for those days that are as bland as dry toast and flat as pancakes, for those days of rushing to the emergency room with our heart in our throat, for those days when failure and frustration hang over our heads like a black cloud …
That’s when we can hear Him say
“I am the Christ for every day,
I am the Christ of every way.”
Not just for Bethlehem but for Nazareth as well.
Not just for the Mount of Transfiguration, but for the valley of the shadow.
Not just for the empty tomb, but for the empty heart …
He is the Christ for every day,
He is the Christ of every way.
THE CHRIST OF EVERY WAY
When Christmas was all put away …
When the decorations were returned once again to their place in the attic and the Christmas cookies had all been eaten, when the tree was sitting out at the curb waiting for the trash man, leaving a trail of tinsel down the driveway, when the presents were no longer sitting on the living room coffee table but had found homes in dressers, closets and shelves, when the Christmas Carol CD’s were back in their cases and returned to their places next to Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennet, Brahms, Beethoven and Mozart, when January 2 dawned cold and rainy and the family all had to go back to school and work …
That’s when I heard Jesus say
“I am the Christ for every day,
I am the Christ of every way.”
Not just for times and seasons gay …
Not just for the special days and seasons when we sense the wonder of His incarnation, the impact of His crucifixion, and the power of His resurrection; not just for the times that come already marked on our calendars, not just for occasions at church deserving choirs and cantatas and costumed plays, not just for those recurring occasions that stir our memories of childhood and times past …
If we listen we can hear Him say
“I am the Christ for every day,
I am the Christ of every way.”
He is there for those very ordinary days …
For those days for which nothing is written on our calendars, for those days when we wake up with a headache and get through our routines by sheer force of will, for those days that are as bland as dry toast and flat as pancakes, for those days of rushing to the emergency room with our heart in our throat, for those days when failure and frustration hang over our heads like a black cloud …
That’s when we can hear Him say
“I am the Christ for every day,
I am the Christ of every way.”
Not just for Bethlehem but for Nazareth as well.
Not just for the Mount of Transfiguration, but for the valley of the shadow.
Not just for the empty tomb, but for the empty heart …
He is the Christ for every day,
He is the Christ of every way.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
The Magi's Gifts
What strange gifts for a little child.
Would he not rather have a top, a toy,
That he could play with as a boy?
Why bring these gifts through regions wild?
What stirred within their hearts to bring
Such presents for a peasant's babe?
What sentiments were there portrayed?
Or were they off'rings to a king?
What meaneth this strange gift of myrrh
Which does not celebrate his birth,
But puts the value and the worth
On his dying, as it were?
And why this gift of frankincense?
'Tis used in worship of our God.
And yet this babe on common sod
Is worthy such extravagance.
For gold depicts divinity, indeed;
And so the wise men, not beguiled,
Knew that Jesus, Holy Child,
Was Christ the Son, the Royal Seed.
O Jesus, Jesus, stir my heart
To bring thee gifts of precious worth
As frankincense and gold and myrrh
That I might know Thee as Thou art.
Would he not rather have a top, a toy,
That he could play with as a boy?
Why bring these gifts through regions wild?
What stirred within their hearts to bring
Such presents for a peasant's babe?
What sentiments were there portrayed?
Or were they off'rings to a king?
What meaneth this strange gift of myrrh
Which does not celebrate his birth,
But puts the value and the worth
On his dying, as it were?
And why this gift of frankincense?
'Tis used in worship of our God.
And yet this babe on common sod
Is worthy such extravagance.
For gold depicts divinity, indeed;
And so the wise men, not beguiled,
Knew that Jesus, Holy Child,
Was Christ the Son, the Royal Seed.
O Jesus, Jesus, stir my heart
To bring thee gifts of precious worth
As frankincense and gold and myrrh
That I might know Thee as Thou art.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Heights and Depths
Has ever greater tale been told
Of pathos, love and loss
Than Jesus in a stable born
Then dying on a cross?
Has ever page or stage portrayed
Such all-consuming love?
Has ever in the songs of man
Such love been spoken of?
Oh, many's the tale that has been told
Of love of smitten man
For maiden fair, that did his best
That he might win her hand.
But in the Gospel tale is told -
Oh, let us praise and laud -
The bleeding love for all mankind
Of an all-loving God
For the race of fallen man
That had despised, rejected Him,
Was born, lived, died and rose again
That He might free us from our sin.
Such heights and depths of love excell
All works made here below;
But 'tis for you and 'tis for me
This love of God to know.
Of pathos, love and loss
Than Jesus in a stable born
Then dying on a cross?
Has ever page or stage portrayed
Such all-consuming love?
Has ever in the songs of man
Such love been spoken of?
Oh, many's the tale that has been told
Of love of smitten man
For maiden fair, that did his best
That he might win her hand.
But in the Gospel tale is told -
Oh, let us praise and laud -
The bleeding love for all mankind
Of an all-loving God
For the race of fallen man
That had despised, rejected Him,
Was born, lived, died and rose again
That He might free us from our sin.
Such heights and depths of love excell
All works made here below;
But 'tis for you and 'tis for me
This love of God to know.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Revelation
We don't discover spiritual truth on our own, not the solid, lasting kind that permeates our being and sets us right. Instead, God reveals it to us by His various methods. This is seen clearly in the Christmas story where all announcement of and guidance to the birth of the Messiah came from divine sources.
Had the angel not appeared to Zacharias
Or to Mary or to shepherds in the field;
If the wise men had no eastern star to guide them
- No one would have known
That the holy Son of God had come, a Savior,
For such revelation comes from God above
To those He would desire to know this treasure;
- Thus the light is shone.
Perhaps no angels have appeared to tell you
And no star has come to'illuminate your way;
But still God would disclose to hungry seekers
- This truth from above.
And like the shepherds, or the wise, or Zacharias
God will reveal to you the wond'rous great good news
That there's a Savior born to all mankind now -
- Jesus, His Son of Love.
Had the angel not appeared to Zacharias
Or to Mary or to shepherds in the field;
If the wise men had no eastern star to guide them
- No one would have known
That the holy Son of God had come, a Savior,
For such revelation comes from God above
To those He would desire to know this treasure;
- Thus the light is shone.
Perhaps no angels have appeared to tell you
And no star has come to'illuminate your way;
But still God would disclose to hungry seekers
- This truth from above.
And like the shepherds, or the wise, or Zacharias
God will reveal to you the wond'rous great good news
That there's a Savior born to all mankind now -
- Jesus, His Son of Love.
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