Christ above my heart’s desire.
Christ above my timing.
Christ above all I aspire.
Christ above my rhyming.
Christ above my greatest fears.
Christ above all pleasures.
Christ above my future years.
Christ above all treasures.
Christ above my past mistakes.
Christ above my glory.
Christ above all earthly aches.
Christ above my story.
Christ above all toil and strife.
Christ above whatever.
Christ above this fleeting life
Now and to forever.
Photo by Sebastian Molina fotografía on Unsplash
The rain one day will end.
The broken skies will mend.
Hope then in he who maketh all things new.
For though your heart may rend,
His presence doth transcend
All storms of life, and he will see you through.
Photo by Joel Bengs on Unsplash
Let us behold as much of you as we
May bear with eyes still tethered to this age,
And purify our vision till we see
You in the printed ink upon the page.
Let us see past the threats and throes of life,
Past ev’ry disappointment, ev’ry loss.
Let us see sov’reignty midst earthly strife
And find our comfort in the crimson cross.
And let us lay before you our dismay,
Discouragement, and disillusionment.
And let us ponder worthily and pray
And work out our salvation and repent.
Let trembling be our lot through joys and tears,
For true fear swallows up all lesser fears.
Photo by Tim Trad on Unsplash
Behold the beast king, the once man who was
Once full of reason, robed in royal hues,
Wretched and ragged now, soaked by the dews
Of seven seasons. Behold him who does
Not remember the ways of his fathers,
Driven to dwell with the beasts at the word
Of him who rules over human and bird,
Over kingdoms and rulers and bothers.
Behold the beast king, his reason restored,
More human now than e’er he was. He sees
That he is but a steward of decrees,
Humbly admitting he cannot afford
With all his wealth the cost of arrogance.
The king learned his own need for reverence.
Unless you build the house, my Lord,
I work to build in vain.
Unless I use your brick and board,
I will not last the rain.
Let me assemble by your sword
That in my life till gain
My work will ever work toward
Eternal life’s refrain.
Photo by Adam Sherez on Unsplash
In water did this story start,
In water did it end;
And water now reminds my heart
Of all the ways I sinned.
My brother-enemy arrived,
A gift born from the Nile.
Where others perished, he survived,
Vital’ty from the vile.
He learned our ways but kept his kin
Within his heart and will.
Seeing “injustice” ‘mongst his men,
He chose to act, to kill.
In fear he fled (I knew not where).
I thought him lost for good.
Then he returned with greying hair
And with a staff of wood.
“Freedom to worship” was his cry,
Presumpt’ous his request.
“Increase the work” was my reply,
And put his god to test.
Then came the signs, small at the first,
Then day by day they grew.
From blood to dark to death, the worst
Came to my home. I knew
My gods had each been overruled,
Their promises proved wrong.
I knew in them we had been fooled
When mourning was our song.
So I relented and released
The captives to the wild.
The land had rest. The plagues then ceased.
My reign had been defiled.
And so I brooded, plotted, chose
To turn around my loss,
And with a burning vengeance, rose
To catch before their cross.
And there I found them, easy prey,
Defenseless ‘gainst my might,
And I beheld his god that day
Work wonders in my sight.
Now all is lost. Now I depart.
My wisdom I rescind.
In water did his story start.
In water did mine end.
Photo by Ali Hegazy on Unsplash
Thanks to Dustin Hadley for the suggestion for today’s poem.
Their eyes now look to me.
I wonder what they see.
Do they detect the doubts and fears,
Perceive the weights, the hidden tears?
Or do they only see
A car’cature of me:
A man of wisdom, love, and care,
Firm in the faith and full of pray’r?
Lord, if they look to me,
Let me e’er look to thee.
Be evident in all I do
That they, through me, better see you.
Let me be all for thee,
More you and less of me,
A servant serving all around
That they in love would e’er abound.
Photo by Matthias on Unsplash
I do not trust my heart,
These feelings, these desires,
For though they, at the start,
Resemble warming fires,
They turn to fun’ral pyres.
So teach me to aspire
For your refining fire,
And, for your glory, start
Me t’ward a pure desire,
One after your own heart.
Photo by Noah Silliman on Unsplash
Subtle are the seeds you sow, deceiver,
Passive possessor quietly at work
At shifting my soul’s focus till I shirk
Habits that distinguish a believer
For old futilities. You water waste
To fill the garden grounds with thorns and weeds.
In fear, I grow impatient, turn to haste.
Forgetting faith, I fall. Temptation feeds
Upon my flesh’s efforts. Travesty
Becomes me in the mire of my pursuit
When I forget my strength comes from the root
Of David, from a higher majesty
Than your false throne can feign. I will endure.
Though you assail, my advocate is sure.
Photo by Andrey Grinkevich on Unsplash
Keep me from distraction from whimsy and woe.
Let me be fixed always on you,
To trust when you lead where I wish not to go
And trust when you lead where I do.
Photo by Paul Gilmore on Unsplash