In Love – a Poem

In Love – a Poem

Happy Monday, all!

Please know that this story – this incredible love – is absolutely real, and extended to you. God loves you more than you can fathom.:)

How He can think

I’m

Lovely

Is a

Mystery to me.

That He would

Choose

This

Wobbly soul

To fight for

Him and

His

Seems like an act of…

What?

He knows I’m not

Enough.

He knows that I’m not

Strong.

He knows the

Winds

That pound this

Heart

Near steal its beat

Some days

And yet

He chooses me.

Seems like an act of…

What?

He feels each

Hurt

More deeply than

My own heart

Ever will.

He weeps

When

Self-love

Steals

My heart

And yet…

He wants me still.

Clothes catching on the

Brambles

That are tearing at His

Skin

He fights

For me

And takes me as

His own.

He stays.

This is an act of…

Love.

It leaves me

Breathless

Tearful and

Completely forever

In love.

The Pen in Your Hand – a Poem

The Pen in Your Hand – a Poem

I know… poetry ranked lowest on the poll I posted a couple of weeks ago (a huge thank you to everyone who answered that!). But my mind has felt like Jell-O recently, so I’m drawing from the reserves today.:) Hopefully my brains will be back soon, and I’ll have a little more to offer you guys!

Anyway…

This is a poem written by my fifteen-year-old self. It came into being one night when I was really struggling to accept what God was doing with a situation in my life. Now, in volatile 2020, it’s a blessing to come back to this poem again and be reminded of where God wants my heart to be.

This is one of the first freestyle poems I wrote… and though it’s not quite as fantastic as I used to think it was :), I hope it’s a blessing to you today.

I don’t understand.

I don’t.

There are times, Lord,

When I,

The pen in Your hand,

Long to

Spring from Your mighty

All-knowing

Grasp, with a cry of

“No, no!

That isn’t the way!

Here!

Let me show You how!”

But that

Is as silly as a ditch-digger

Grasping

The brush of a masterful artist.

A clock

Does no good without clockwork

And so

I do no good without You.

With no

Master I lie here, my ink pouring

Out

A miserable, meaningless

Blot.

But in Your loving hand

My life

Is a song – a beautiful witness

To You.

So here – take my tears, though many

There be

And do what you will with them.

And here –

Take my years, though few they may

Be

And use them to glorify

You.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Generations – A Poem

Generations – A Poem

My latest poem… tell me what you think of it!

A torrent of green

They burst on the scene-

Ready to take on the world.

Confident – oh, so

Confident

They

Could change the world with

Their song.

So they did.

What once was a forest of

Bleak

Monochrome

Soon became an explosion of

Verdure.

They gladdened the hearts of

The weak and the strong

The fearful and brave

The old and the young.

As the days turned to

Weeks

And the weeks turned to

Months

Their glory was ripening to

Rust

And they knew that their

Sweet days were

Short.

Yet they glowed

And they sang

In the grasp of the wind

That was stealing them

Far, far away on its

Breath

And they fell to their

Death

At the foot of the trees

That were helpless

To bring them to life.

A waste of a season?

They knew that they’d

Lived

The fullness of days

Appointed

To them.

So they sank into time –

Having burst upon

Us

For a moment –

And broke into

Sod

For successors.

Photo by John Silliman on Unsplash

The Great Exchange – A Poem

The Great Exchange – A Poem

I wrote this little poem as a prayer to the Lord nearly two and a half years ago. It’s so wonderful to know that God can redeem each broken piece I surrender to Him… and that He won’t tire of giving me His grace. He is incredibly good!

I come

Torn

Broken

With no words to be

Spoken

Just to pour

My life –

My all –

Into Your hands.

I come

Weak

Helpless

With no power against

The darkness

Just to pour

Your love –

Your strength –

Into my soul.

Once Again – A Poem

Once Again – A Poem

Two natures fight within me

Clawing for complete control

And the evil one is winning –

Its dark reign I can’t o’erthrow.

For its grasp about my mind

Has left an imprint stiff as stone

And its chains about my heart

Into my flesh o’er time have grown.

And I can’t break from these shackles

That hold all my habits tight

For the rust of time has locked them

And I cry into the night

As I see the one You crafted

To be swift and strong for You

Melted to the mess I am –

How could my heart be so untrue?

Yet the dawn is breaking now

And in the early morning rays

I see the promise of the future

And new mercies with new days

And I see the power of Calvary

Making chains and shackles null

As Your faithfulness transforms me

And my shell falls, dead and dull

As new life is pulsing through me –

Though I’ve stumbled  and I’ve failed,

Still You tell me that renewal

Is one humble step away.

Photo by Federico Respini on Unsplash