It Is Well

When Jesus saved me, all well broke loose.

A Fortress Sure

The one who knows what it is to dwell in the secret place of the Most High has a fortress sure, a dwelling place secure, free from pressures within and without. That fortress is not in an ethereal, far-off never-never land but in the depths of his spirit; Christ dwells in us and we dwell in Him, not in theory but in a glorious reality.

I dwell within a castle sure,
A strong and mighty tower,
Hidden in the heart of God,
Protected by His power.

And here within my castle walls
My heart is calm all day,
While outside rage the rain and wind
And comes whatever may.

Many's the storm that's come and gone,
The tempests that raged and roared;
Safe, I, within my castle walls,
Sheltered in my Lord.

One With Christ

I ave written poems for friends' weddings several times in the past. This poem is for an upcoming June wedding. The poem gives a revelation of the symbolism in our wedding ceremony - the ring, the name, the veil, etc. Everything points out that a wedding depicts the union between Christ and His church, His bride. We are called to be one with Him. That's an incredible thought of which we have yet to plumb the depths.

Behold what here now taketh place,
United now by faith and grace -
In symbol and in deed and word,
Forever are we with the Lord.

The bridegroom waiteth for his bride;
Soon she’ll be standing by his side.
Soon they shall together be
Both now and for eternity.

The Bride of Christ comes to her Lord;
All our wandering days are o’er;
So shall we ever be with God,
Nor separated anymore.

The bride appears all dressed in white;
She is holy in his sight.
His wedding garment white we don,
A righteousness that is all His own.

He gives to her a golden band
For the finger of her hand;
The gold speaks of Christ’s purity
He gives to us fresh, full and free.

She takes his name, gives up her own;
By his name now she is known.
As nature in a name is found,
Christ’s to us is ever bound.

Each to the other makes their vows,
Insep’rably bound, as tree and bough;
Worse or better, sickness, health,
Younger, older, poorer, wealth.

He lifts the veil from off her face
And she can see. Amazing Grace,
Christ lifts the veil from our blind eyes
And we behold Him, ever nigh.

He gives to her a holy kiss,
As God caresses earth with mist.
So we receive His love divine,
More precious than the choicest wine.

Flesh of flesh and bone of bone,
Of the two He has made one.
One with Christ – O precious thought,
The wonder that our God has wrought.

My All In All

The things I count as gain are loss,
My riches are exposed as dross.
I cast my crowns down at your feet
And bow before the mercy seat.

I come in poverty to receive Thy wealth,
In sickness to receive Thy health.
In sin I receive Thy righteousness,
Naked, clothed in Thy glorious dress.

I come in darkness to receive Thy light,
Blind, I come, to receive Thy sight.
Feed me and my hunger shall be no more,
Slake my thirst from Thy boundless store.

Your strength for my weakness I now receive,
Your faith for my doubtings, Lord, I believe.
Your wisdom for my ignorance,
Your everything for my nothingness.

Abraham, Martin and John

If you've never heard the original song by Dion, click here.

Anybody here seen my old friend Abraham?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
He freed lotta people but it seems the good they die young
You know I just looked around and he's gone

Anybody here seen my old friend John?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
He freed lotta people but it seems the good they die young
I just looked around and he's gone

Anybody here seen my old friend Martin?

Can you tell me where he's gone?
He freed lotta people but it seems the good they die young
I just looked around and he's gone

Didn't you love the things that they stood for?
Didn't they try to find some good for you and me?
And we'll be free
Some day soon, it's gonna be one day

Anybody here seen my old friend Bobby?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
I thought I saw him walkin' up over the hill
With Abraham, Martin, and John.

(Words and music by Richard Holler)

No Greater Treasure

Why just a babe in a manger?
Why not a glorious hall,
A marblestone palace with ramparts
And turrets and towers and all?

Why aren't there ladies and lords?
Why just these shepherds and sheep?
Why not the brightest and best
Instead of a dark night so deep?

Why not two parents of royal
Descent, of lineage grand,
A heritage fit for a king,
Instead of this maid and this man?

Why not a royal parade
With cornets and psalteries and harps?
Why just the braying of beasts
In the night, in the cold, in the dark?

This King needs no palace or pomp,
No glitter or glory or gold,
For He is the treasure of Heaven
That cannot be bought or be sold.

What men prize as treasures are cheap,
Hold no weight in the courts of the Lord,
And this stable with oxen and cattle
Is palace enough for our God.

For the treasure itself lies within,
'Tis Jesus, the fairest of fair,
And anything earth could afford
Would be but as dust were it there.

It matters not how poor the setting
If it holds the greatest of gifts;
If Jesus is guest in the hall
There's no greater treasure than this.

The God-Man

Our God enfleshed in Christ has come,
Let royal wisdom strike us dumb;
To save our lost and fallen race
He takes on human form and face.

Who could conceive of such a plan?
'Twas not devised by likes of man;
Only wisdom from above
Could conceive such saving love.

For mortal man had lost it all
From Adam's failure in the fall;
But sinful man can't pay the price
So God becomes the sacrifice.

Man could not atone for sin
Nor could God die, but look within
The stable rude - our God appears
As man, and Calv'ry's moment nears.

For just a while He's with us here,
For these three and thirty years;
He lives the only sinless life
'Midst our sorrow and our strife.

Then in Gethsemane He takes
Our sin and Satan's thralldom breaks,
When on the cross He nails it there
And we escape the fowler's lair.

Let joy come down like falling rain
For love has broken sin's dark chains,
Let every human heart become
The dwelling place of Christ, the Son.

Heaven's Best

Earth cared not for this Son of God,
No place to lay his head,
Offered naught but sheets of straw,
A manger for a bed.

No room, they said, within the inn,
But there's a barn outside;
Soon forgotten in the cold,
They heard not when he cried.

But heaven gave its very best -
A star to guide the way
Of those who came across the wilds
To where the young child lay.

And angels to announce his birth
To shepherds in the field,
And to give to him the name
Above all names revealed.

Look up and lift your eyes from earth
To see his star above,
To hear the wonders of his name
From messengers of love.

Joseph

I think this poem brings Joseph out of the background where he has been hidden for too long and says everything that needs to be said about fathers, what they should be and what they should do.

"Joseph, fear not," said the angel,
"To take to thee Mary thy wife."
It was Joseph who would guard the young child
Through the the soon-coming trouble and strife.

It was to Joseph the angel
Spoke that sweetest Name, all names above,
'Twas Joseph who gave Him that name -
JESUS, the Son of God's love.

It was Joseph who watched over Mary
And cared for the family of God,
Who guided and guarded and took them
To Bethlehem town as they trod.

It was Joseph who asked the innkeeper
If a room perchance he might have,
And 'twas Joseph who readied the manger
'Mong'st the goats and the sheep and the calves.

It was Joseph who watched o'er his family
As shepherds and wise men came there;
It was Joseph who guarded his flock
And kept his small family in prayer.

The angel appeared unto Joseph
In a dream saying "Rise up and go;
Take mother and child into Egypt
And be there 'til I let you know."

For Herod was ranting and raving
And sought the life of the child,
But Joseph, the husband and father,
Kept them from cruel Herod's wiles.

Again, in a dream, did the angel
Tell Joseph 'twas safe to return,
So he took the young child and his mother
Back to Israel where Jesus learned

As he sat at the feet of his father,
And helped at the carpenter's trade,
That fathers are strong and courageous
And good, like the tables he made.

And still today God looks for Josephs,
For husbands and fathers who love,
Who'll guard the great gifts God has given
And be like our Father above.

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 to a peasant's babe?
What sentiments were there portrayed?
Or were they off'rings for a king?

What meant 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.

But We See Jesus (Hebrews 2:9)

We see not all things conquered now
And put beneath His feet;
The victory we long for so
Seems not to be complete.

But we see Jesus, made like us,
In God's great glorious plan,
To suffer, bleed and die, to taste
Of death for every man.


We see not self subject to Him,
But consumed with sin and lust,
So very far from being here
What is true and right and just.

But we see Jesus, Son of God,
Who bore all of our sin,
That we by God's surpassing grace
Might one day be like Him.


We see not evil brought to bay
But rampant, running free;
A bleeding, dying world knows not
How things could one day be.

But we see Jesus, Son of Man,
Made like sinful flesh,
To raise us from our lost estate
By His life and by His death.

Another Comforter

This poem expresses something I have been wanting to say for a while now - that the Holy Spirit is more than just celestial leftovers or a flashlight in Jesus' hands; He is the Spirit of Christ, the manifest Presence of God within us, the same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead. The poem places the reader in the place of one of the disciples to consider what it must have been like to actually know Jesus and be with Him, and then hear that He was going away. Then Jesus said "it is expedient for you that I go away" and that He would send another Comforter to be with them forever. That must not have made any sense to them - that it was good that this wonderful, unique Son of God would leave them - until the Holy Spirit came and they knew - they knew - that He had come to them again.

Imagine if you’d walked with the disciples of the Lord
And been one of the twelve, and heard his every word;
He’d spoke to you and said “Now, come and follow me;”
You’d dropped your nets and left, knowing not what was to be.

Because you felt in him such promise and such truth,
You’d give him all you had – your strength, your love, your youth.
You’d heard that awesome voice that created everything
And created within you the strength to love and serve this king.

His words were right and true and you could count on what he said;
His words could calm the sea, heal the sick, and raise the dead.
His voice was like the sound of many waters’ flow,
Like an eagle on the wing, like the morning breezes blow.

You’d looked into those eyes with their penetrating gaze
That looked into your soul and saw all of your days,
Eyes not to condemn, but that brimmed with friendship’s trust,
Eyes that spoke of things that were pure and true and just.

And you had felt the touch of his hand upon your arm
To guide you and protect you and to keep you safe from harm;
With his arm around your shoulders as you journeyed and you trod,
As he walked along beside you, you felt the touch of God.

You didn’t understand all the things that he had said –
How he’d die upon a cross and then rise up from the dead;
But you kept them in your heart for you knew that they could be,
For anything could happen with this man from Galilee.

He believed in you when no one else would do the same;
He spoke of things above, not of fortune or of fame.
The Kingdom of the Lord was his one recurring theme,
And you believed it come, or could – or so it seemed

Until one day he told you that he’d have to go away;
Your world fell all apart – you felt a castaway.
For he was your best friend – no one else could take his place –
No one else held such a promise, or such glory, or such grace.

But he said that he would send another Comforter,
One just like the first; he’d be with you, as it were.
For the Spirit that would come would be in every sense the same;
He was going to the Father and would send Him in His name.


But when it came to pass – when they nailed him to the tree –
You had fled like all the rest; it seemed such irony
That such promise and such truth could be cut down so soon,
That the bright star of the morning could be darkened before noon.

Then he arose and for a while it was just as it had been –
You were back, you band of brothers; could it be that way again?
But when he had ascended you again were left alone,
But you waited as he told you, with a hope more than your own.

And on the day of Pentecost, the Holy Spirit came
Just as he had promised, with sound of wind and fire of flame.
And the Christ that walked beside you now lived in you and you knew
He’d come back to you forever, he’d not abandoned you.

And you could tell the world of this lovely Son of God,
For he was with you and was in you, and with every step you trod
His words, his strength, his power flowed like blood within your veins;
The Christ was your companion and you conquered in his name.

And so it is today for every blood-bought child of God - You’re not abandoned, not alone, as you dwell on common sod,
For the Christ who called and claimed you and who gave you life anew
In this blessed Holy Spirit again lives his life in you.

It’s him! It’s not another; you’re not orphaned, not alone!
His Spirit lives within and he has made your heart his home.
Fling wide the gates and ope’ the doors and let the Spirit flow.
He’s come to you forever – let the winds of heaven blow.

A Single Eye

The light of the body is the eye: therefore when thiine eye is single, thy whole body also is full of light. (Jesus - Luke 11:34a)

To have this single eye
Is my heart's only goal,
To fix my gaze upon
The lover of my soul.

To see not circumstance
Nor the storm around me rage,
Content with fixéd gaze
As a dove within its cage

Sees nought but love's desire,
The object of its heart,
So I would look to Thee
From the very start.

One window in the side
Of Noah's diluvial ark
Serves as an outward sign
To which my soul would hark.

And I will have this eye
That sees but things above,
That sees celestial scenes
And the object of its love.

Jacob, Was It Jesus?

Jacob, did you wrestle with a man that night alone?
Did you wrestle in the darkness 'til the breaking of the dawn?
Was it God with whom you wrestled, of whom you'd not let go?
Tell me, Jacob, was it Jesus, and with us can it be so?

Can we touch him and compel him not to leave us, not to go?
Can we hold him through the night until the morning light doth show?
Will he touch us as he touched you in the hollow of your thigh?
Will he take away our strength? Will we halt as we walk by?

Will he speak as he spoke to you when he asked of you your name?
Will he give to us a new one that we never be the same?
I think I know the answer but must ask of you again -
O, Jacob, was it Jesus? Can we go where you have been?

Oh, Grace of God in Christ

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.