postaday

How will they hear?

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But how can people call for help if they don’t know who to trust? And how can they know who to trust if they haven’t heard of the One who can be trusted? And how can they hear if nobody tells them? And how is anyone going to tell them, unless someone is sent to do it? That’s why Scripture exclaims,
A sight to take your breath away!
Grand processions of people
telling all the good things of God!
But not everybody is ready for this, ready to see and hear and act. Isaiah asked what we all ask at one time or another: “Does anyone care, God? Is anyone listening and believing a word of it?” The point is: Before you trust, you have to listen. But unless Christ’s Word is preached, there’s nothing to listen to.
Romans 10:14-17 The Message

“Your actions speak so loudly, I can not hear what you are saying.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson

I need to hear of God.
I may not know I do.
I may not know His word contains the key
to a relationship I was made for before the world was.
My intellect, my will, my judgment, will be present.
But salvation speaks like a laser to the heart, to the soul.
I do not know yet the unvarnished truth of the gospel, how it will reveal something
so natural I’ll wonder why it took so long to become a reality in my life.
And why would He choose a human being to reveal this truth?
Why not send an angel, or a blinding light?
God could do that.
God chose you,
and others…
people.
For some reason, God is really about relationships.
Don’t think I need someone perfect to tell me about Jesus.
What I really need,
even though I may not know it yet,
is for someone to be authentic, warts and all.
Be real to me.
Care.
I’ll recognize that.

What I Say

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Don’t just say you see
what I do
what I say what I say
don’t just do
what you can prove
say what I say what I say
all the day all the day
what I say what I say
stop

jump in jump in spin
jump in jump in spin
do a quick revolution
jump out

ever since the day
we got married
been a holy ride
love done never ended
holy ride holy ride
on

jump in spin jump in spin
jump in spin jump in spin
do a quick revolution
jump out

Lori sweet Lori
train gets a goin’ cross country
dreams of rails and coattails
we got goin’ with a mist of steam
dreams of rails and coattails
ain’t never lost what it mean

jump in spin jump in spin
jump in spin jump in spin
do a quick revolution
back on

dance to the Lord’s revival
dance to our sweet Lord’s tune
dance to Jesus’ music
sweet sounds in your room

jump in spin jump in spin
jump in spin for it do you in
Lord lead a quiet revolution
with your strong constitution
say when

Well Met

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rise
child of God
as the sun rises
meet your Maker with meditation

quiet your mind
child as you meet Him
that the first steps
into your day
are blessed

sacred moments
bereft of discord
burnished bright
with praises
to birth
a joyous dawn

Yes, you May.

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Even though the first day of May isn’t for a few hours yet, it’s May somewhere. Here’s a poem in honor of the month.

Some folks celebrate May Day, there’s Cinco de Mayo, and don’t forget Mother’s day, but I think we should celebrate the whole month in honor of what its name signifies: permission.

Take a stroll on a sunny, windy day?
You May.
Stay up late before you hit the hay?
You May.
Pluck petulant pansy petals so more will have their way?
You May.
Get deep into Spring cleaning to get ready for Summer days?
You May.
May’s the month with a built in okay for every good thing.
It’s the correct word for misapplied cans. It’s a great time
for early sunning at the beach, be you any age woman or man.
It’s a month for pushing Winter out the door,
and putting Spring flowers to bed.
You might have your own favorite month, it’s true,
but my fave
is that month after April
and right before June
called May.

Thank You

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Just before or after last Christmas I decided to be more consistent with my writing by resurrecting a WordPress blog that had been dormant for quite some time. I had recently received a lot of encouragement and it gave me the incentive to write more poetry. While putting together the new blog I noticed a challenge put out by WordPress to post every day for 2013. I decided to give it a try and let everyone who read my blog know by putting the badge on my cover page. Today will be my 137th post. Accounting for a few days that I’ve posted more than once, that means I’ve posted over 130 days in a row. I’m looking forward to doing the whole 365.

There have been a lot of great things to come out of writing and publishing every day. For one, it has forced me to investigate different kinds of writing. I’ve explored poetry, song writing, devotionals, and humor. Along the way, I’ve gotten to know fellow bloggers who also believe strongly in writing, especially writing that moves them. I’ve had days when I thought I had written something relevant, only to get little in the way of results. But then I’ve had other days when I wasn’t all that thrilled with what I had put out, only to get lots of positive comments. It continues to be a fantastic learning experience and I just want to sincerely thank everyone who has read, commented, and shown me how fun and rewarding blogging can be. God continues to bless it. It’s my prayer that He is honored by what I write.

How Great Thou Art

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Tonight, I was listening to Pandora background music as I began my post. I was about to write about another hymn when “How Great Thou Art” began to play. That led me to remember that George Beverly Shea passed away recently at the age of 104. For years his beautiful bass-baritone voice highlighted the Billy Graham crusades. As magnificent as his voice was, the words of the hymns he sang were always the star, because the message they conveyed helped lead others to Christ. He was able to remain humble because he understood what a gift and responsibility it is to represent the gospel to the world. No matter how large or small you may believe your sphere of influence to be, someone is affected by the message you represent. Being a child of God is a gift, privilege, and responsibility. As we begin a new week, let’s all pray a little longer and reach a little higher. God does have a plan for you, short term and for the rest of your life.

How Great Thou Art

O Lord my God
When I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds
Thy hands have made
I see the stars
I hear the rollin’ thunder
Thy power throughout
The universe displayed.
Then sings my soul
My Savior God, to Thee,
How great Thou art
How great Thou art
Then sings my soul
My Savior God, to Thee
How great Thou art
How great Thou art!
When Christ shall come
With shouts of acclamation
And take me home
What joy shall fill my heart
Then I shall bow
In humble adoration
And there proclaim,
“My God, how great Thou art!”
Then sings my soul
My Savior God, to Thee,
How great Thou art
How great Thou art
Then sings my soul
My Savior God, to Thee
How great Thou art
How great Thou art!
How great Thou art
How great Thou art!…

Food Impostors

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I’ve come to the conclusion
after how many years has it been,
that the stuff I’ve been ingesting
with the very tiny print
and the multi-syllabic words
that read so scientific
might not be so good for me.

Sure there’re pretty pictures on the package
smiling folks living the life,
so I’m led to believe
they must eat a lot of this stuff,
makes ’em feel better than alive.

Farmers replaced by marketers;
what have they caused us to imbibe?
Why do we do this to ourselves?
Do you think they’re concerned with your insides?
Do you really want to be fed by cookie elves?

It’s years of habits I’m breaking,
no mistaking
the work it would be taking
to put good foods together
instead of relying on my buddy
monosodafoodasortaglutsamated.
But no doubt the things I won’t miss
are being tired
and constipated.

Lord knows we can’t predict
when we might go.
He’s the only one who can say when
we’ll reap what we’ve sown.
But out of respect for the vessel
He’s made,
I’m intent on running it better
before it finds the grave.

Immeasurable

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We have not the device to measure your
grace
Nor does your love for us make
sense
The unmerited devotion which flows from
You
fills our cup till we can hold no
more
If earth is the trial ground let us seek to
return
in whatever way we are
able
learning each day to give back to you
Lord
what you’ve served so well at your
table

Position: Independent

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Tonight I’m writing a poem using dictionary roulette. It’s like the poems I’ve done where my family picks words I have to use within a specific number of stanzas. Tonight I picked words at random from the dictionary. Actually, my wife picked them because I suck at it. The words I picked were Horne, Lena & National Bank. After that, I let her pick. These aren’t great, but they’ll have to do.

I want a job I think you want too,
because this guy
(me)
writes his own job description.
It’s the sort of thing
everyone
could qualify for,
a peculiarly adaptive position.

It isn’t the kind of job you’d find
on Craig’s list
or in the paper,
nor is it criminal;
it doesn’t involve capers.
It doesn’t matter your sex,
be it lady or gent.
This job fits all
’cause it’s position independent.