Poetry by my Daughter

Linda is a thinker and a writer.  She blesses me.  I am posting her poems here for my own sake, so I can easily read them again when I want to.  I hope you'll be blessed, too, as you read these poems.  You can click on the titles to go to her blog and comment if you so desire.

Their Source

I screamed for peace to fill my wants;

Got only silence in response.

I wept for love to lift me up;

Disappointment filled my cup.

I wanted joy and nothing less;

Receiving only bitterness,

I wept, and wept, and wept; and then

Met up with the Son of Man

Finding Him, I've found it all,

Peace and Love and Joy in full.

Found by Him, and called His own,

I rest in the grace He's shown.

I Stand Ashamed

I lie ashamed before the King

In misery and endless grief

Every accusation stings

My soul; I can find no relief.

I kneel accused before the throne

But my Defender, speaking up,

Proclaims His goodness as my own

And takes my sin; He drinks my cup.

I stand as that grace takes its toll

But the accuser wants to fight

He demands to see my record whole

He claims it is his solemn right.

My Defender gives it him;

"Read at will," is what He said.

The records are in no way slim:

My heart is filled with sudden dread.

What is hidden from that book?

What unrecorded message hides?

None! Every action, every look

And thought and word besides:

All my wrongs are written there

All my sins for all to see!

It almost is too much to bear;

He opens it; he seeks to read.

The accuser stands in silence though,

His mouth is shut, his face gone white.

He slams the book with violence now,

And shouts with every form of spite.

"I would accuse," said he, "with pride

If the words could but be read;

But every single dot inside

Is covered over with blood red!"

My Defender gives a smile.

"If only you had understood.

You accuse, yet all the while

Her sins are covered with My blood.

"My sacrifice has paid her price;

You have no case, it is all done.

She is not yours, though you entice.

She is mine, and I have won."

If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, 'tis now...

I Wrote This...

...at the beginning of the year, and I don't think I ever shared it here.

Yea, that was a bit of a rhyme. I'm awesome like that - all the time.

~

Morning Star

"Suspended in the morning sky

A star shines light, with radiant face;

I see it and I'm filled with joy,

Contemplating grace.

The Hand which made that star shine bright

Holds me close with tender care.

'Tis haunting: I am His delight

And I find comfort there."

Another Attempt at Poetry..or a Song?

While the idea of God's eternal, unending, unchanging love is easy enough to accept intellectually, sometimes it's more difficult to actually believe it. To accept it. That's why it's so important to preach the gospel to yourself; we (at least I) fall back on the idea that we can do things on our own, perform to the tune of legalism, and earn our own merit; the hard truth is, we can't.

The great truth is, He already did. God loves you. Jesus died for you. He will never leave you nor forsake you. Don't believe the lies, especially the ones from within, that whisper "you're not good enough. You have so many problems. You failed again." All of these things are true.

But none of them matter.

God matters. And God has declared you righteous. He looks on you with His face full of love and says "You, my child, are perfect to me."

Breaking On My Own

I’m falling even further

Than I ever fell before

Looking through this blackness

For a glimmer of hope

I can’t believe I broke so fast

I’ll never be the same

And in the midst of suffering

I call out Your name

I’m breaking on my own

I can’t do this alone

And even though I’ve tried

I know that I

Can’t do it myself

Why does it take a stab of pain

To make me realize

I've always been this mess of junk

I still believe the lies

I am not as in control

As I would like to be

I need Your voice to bring me back

Lord, You must set me free

I’m breaking on my own

I can’t do this alone

And even though I've tried

I know that I

Can’t do it myself

Draw me to Your arms again

Remove the chains that bind me

Take the guilt I feel right now

In my weakness You find me

I’m breaking on my own

I try to do this alone

Lord, You can set me free

You wash me clean and white

You give Your righteousness to me

You say I’m Your delight

You put me back together

Your patience has no lack

And even though I am still marred

Your love shines through the cracks

I’m broken on my own

I know I can’t do this alone

You never left me

You set me free

I live by Your grace

You have made me whole

I love You more and more

I’m breaking on my own...

But no; I’m not alone

Before and After?

I wrote this because I was thinking about the time before Christ, and afterward, and the stark difference between the two. (As a side theological note: by the final line I don't mean that Christians no longer sin - but "I am not what I once was"....) Thoughts?

~

Flailing sorrows, empty words

Swarming over me in hordes

Will this torture never cease?

I am lost; I can't find peace.

Taking painful remedies

That only strengthen the disease

I kill myself; and yet I claim

That I am not the one to blame.

~

Pointing fingers; ruined lives

All the while my sickness thrives

To break me down, delude, enslave

Until I meet an early grave.

This lie that cuts straight to the heart

This burden has become an art.

I am an expert at this life

Of death and war, of pain and strife.

~

Where is hope among my being?

...is this mercy that I'm seeing,

Wondrous love outpouring here

Consuming me; it draws me near

And I find rest: At last! At last!

So now my former Self is past.

I'm going against every particle of my being by posting this. I don't do well with showing people my poetry.

How sweet the broken, blistered feet

Of those who spread the gospel pure!

Where blood, and dust, and sorrow meet

Where love is clear, and faith is sure;

Where tears despairing, happy tears,

Or tears of trials far and near

Come together through the years

To stop and be collected here.

Our God is just; He knows our frame

That we are dust, that we are frail-

Our God is here, so we proclaim

The Good News: Onward, without fail!

Fear not the wicked Enemy;

Proclaim the truth with a brave will!

To be sure he is a flea

He can harass, but never kill.

What harm that God decrees to bring

Will come to pass, from Him above

But know that even suffering

Is ordered by His steadfast love.

God is with you as you speak

About His grace, the Gospel true

Encouragement is what you seek:

Be encouraged! He's with you.