The children screamed.
The children cried.
Denied their rights,
the children died.
As terror stalked the promised land,
the innocent were stilled.
And since they cannot
voice their plight
(these victims of Hamas’s blight),
we speak for all whose blood calls out
for justice with a price.
“Become like children,” Jesus said.
“Remember who you were.
Wide-eyed with wonder, innocent and shy.
Acknowledging dependence
on that Someone whom you trust.
Accepting more than always asking “why?”
Childlike-faith is what we’re called to.
Resting in our Father’s arms.
Trusting in His vantage point that we can’t see.
Making peace with limitations,
while believing dreams come true
and believing I am loved for being me.
With their arms upraised, small children
reach for Someone whom they love.
Hands aimed Heavenward
convey what’s deep inside.
Unconditional affection,
longing to be cradled tight
in those strong inviting arms that beckon wide.
There are shadows on life’s highway
that we just cannot avoid.
Unexpected times of darkness hide the sun.
Death and illness. Loss and sorrow.
Doubts that linger through the night.
And those nagging fears that question what’s to come.
Still the shadows offer contrast,
give perspective. They provide
a point of reference for God’s faithfulness.
In the shadows we are privy
to the promises of grace
that remind us God is with us in our stress.
The poem above is included in this book:
 Greg’s book, “When God Speaks“ is listed on the BOOKS menu at $14.99 from Lulu Books. |
When I contemplate the people
God has used to touch my life,
I’m reminded of a gray-haired man
and his sweet, quiet wife.
Each Sunday he would stand to pray
and then begin to preach.
And though he wasn’t eloquent,
I loved his halting speech.
He opened up the Bible
as he made those stories live.
I still can smell the loaves and fish
that boy was prone to give.
He’d shake hands with the grownups
after church when they would go.
And he would call us kids by name
and say, “You’re great, you know!”
Some nights he’d show up at our house
for coffee and to talk.
Or sometimes he would phone to share
a need within the flock.
Though not a theologian
with a long list of degrees,
my pastor grew in wisdom
as he spent time on his knees.
He could comfort folks at funerals
and at weddings he would cry.
When he counseled those in trouble,
he would listen, nod and sigh.
I learned from that dear man of God
that faith is clearly caught
when those who see the truth lived out
can trust what they are taught.
As I look back my heart is filled
with gratitude and joy
for one who led our little church
when I was just a boy.
That godly man and his dear wife
have long since passed away.
But since they led me to the Lord
I’ll see them both someday.
Today’s poem can be found in the following of Greg’s books:
 Greg’s book, “Sunday Rhymes & Reasons“ is listed on the BOOKS menu at $14.95 from Create Space. |
My Rhymes and Reasons 