Heed The Signs

Fall in place of Spring,
Spring in Winter's stead,
Seasons willy-nilly,
Farmers in the red.

Common knowledge moot,
Normalcy on hold,
It fascinates the young,
But perplexes the old.

Nature changing course,
Or simply adjusting,
Or merely mankind,
Still not listening.

God speaks to this world,
In many different ways,
He wants us to know,
We are in the last days.

Earthquakes and famine,
Pestilence and wars,
These are the beginning,
There will be much more.

Neighbor against neighbor,
Parent against child,
Relationships broken,
Society going wild.

When signs are on the road,
You read them, and obey,
God's signs are everywhere,
They're pointing to a day.

Reckoning and judgment,
Await the human race,
All that ever lived,
Will look on Jesus' face.

If He was your Savior,
You will live with Him,
If not, you face damnation,
The sentence for your sin.

No one knows the hour,
You cannot know the day,
It could be in the night,
When you are swept away.

Heed the signs given,
The day is almost gone,
Make your divine appointment,
Make Heaven your final home.

Lord Of All

As I break the bonds of this mortal flesh,
And set free my spirit from gravity's hold,
I set my mind on the Shepherd of Paradise,
To confirm my assumptions, of this One I call Lord.

I start out my journey, on hands and knees,
Slowly crawling through epistles of old,
Hungry, I search for crumbs of wisdom,
To ease the pangs, in the belly of my soul.

Seeking sustenance, for building my strength,
I find a piece of honeycomb, and a broiled fish,
It helped me to grasp, one aspect of Jesus,
Completely a man, but yet God in the flesh.

Now thirsty, I found a woman by a well,
She gave me a drink, then started to cry,
She told me of a well of living water,
A well of the Spirit, that would never run dry.

Departing, wandering, I passed by a tomb,
Open, and empty, folded grave clothes left inside,
Just then, a man approached, tears streaming down his face,
He shouted, "He's not there!, He's alive!, He's alive!"

As I pondered on all I had just seen and heard,
A sense of peace flooded my mind, and my soul,
My contemplative journey, had come to an end,
The God I now serve, is indeed, Lord of all.

My Time To Go

Flowers, candles, beautiful music,
Pictures of me on the wall,
Family and friends, laughing and crying,
Children playing in a room, down the hall.

There are more here than I expected,
I thought there'd be fifty at most,
I won't tell the actual number, though,
It's rude for a dead man to boast.

The mood is somber, as mourners file by,
Some looking, others looking away,
They pay their respects, to my grief-stricken wife,
Then they leave, and get on with their day.

Next day, the funeral, the final goodbye,
Close friends and family, all dressed in black,
The service, at church, per my request,
Most in attendance will never come back.

The preacher delivers a wonderful speech,
Reminding them of where I have gone,
The eulogies are read, sad, short, and sweet,
They want to say more, but it's time to move on.

Again, they file past me, one last time,

The crying much louder than before,

Long lost family take time to reminisce,

Until my casket is rolled to the door.

The cars are lined up, row after row,

Little flags, blowing in the wind,

They'll follow the hearse, to my resting place,

Contemplating their own life's end.

They arrive, they notice the well-kept lawn,

So serene, but sad, just the same,

They make their way, to the freshly dug grave,

They admire the headstone, they notice my name.

The preacher delivers some comforting words,

Quiet sobbing, the only other sound,

They lower my coffin, so careful, so slow,

'Til it comes to rest, in its' place underground.

The service is now over, the crowd is all gone,

My body is resting in the earth below,

My soul has gone on, to be with my Lord,

'Til they're reunited, 'til the trumpet blows.

My wife always visits my grave site,

She comes every chance that she gets,

The boys come with her on Memorial Day,

They all laugh, and tell stories, and reflect.

They are happy.  I am happy.  Amen.

For Heaven's Sake

Why do you worry so?
Why do you fear?
Have you forgotten that Jesus is near?

When life takes a detour,
And you don't have a clue,
He will provide the direction for you.

Ask and He will answer,
Seek and you will find,
Knock and He will open up just in time.

He's ready and willing,
To do just what it takes,
And He'll do it all for Heaven's sake.

No Greater Love ( A Communion Poem )

Grace and mercy, mercy and grace, 

Two words that brighten up my face,

Mercy, not getting what I deserve,

Grace, receiving what I haven't earned.

Why should I, a sinner, be blessed so,

I, by rights, should pay what I owe,

But the Son of God, Who made His tree,

Died on it, to pay my debt for me.

It makes no sense, to perishing minds,

That God should die, to save mankind,

No man, born of woman, could understand,

The height, and depth, of God's perfect plan.

That He made the world, knowing sin would come,

And it would take the life, of His precious Son,

His broken body, and His blood required,

To save a lost, and unworthy world.

So from now, until the end of our time,

Take the broken bread, and fruit of the vine,

Think on the One, Who forgave you of sin,

And do this always, in remembrance of Him..

 

The Day

Ah, my eyes have opened, awake again, "another day", I yawned,

I wonder what is out there, lying in wait for me today.

I roll over and turn off that annoying alarm, it just keeps going on and on,

A necessary evil, (or devil, if you will), that starts me on my way.

I roll out of bed, my feet hit the floor, the cobwebs are fading away,

I mumble a "thank You" to my Father above, for seeing us through the night.

My dog hears me moving, she barks her "good morning", and wags what's left of her tail,

The cats just lay there, not impressed by my arrival, they hate when I turn on the light.

My mornings are full of humdrum rituals, like everyone else, I suppose,

Rare is the man or woman, I would think, who strays from their daily routine.

Creatures of habit, we like the familiar, the sameness, the way that it flows,

We like how things are, and want to keep them that way, running like a well-oiled machine.

Eating and brushing, reading and prayer, my day is moving right along,

And while my body is wrapping things up here at home, my mind is several hours ahead.

With work still miles and minutes down the road, my thoughts are on clocking out and going home,

It reminds me of a saying, I heard long ago, that said, "I shoulda just stood in bed".

Eight hours later, with the work day over, I head out the door, to my car,

Dreading the traffic, but excited for what the night might bring.

Back home, conversation and coffee with my wife, the woman I love and treasure,

Dinner and a movie, together at home, have the makings of a perfect evening.

If today was the day, God called me away, I hope I would leave no regrets,

I've tried to live each day, as my very last one, just in case.

Each day is a gift, from the God that loves us, He always gives us His best,

The least we can do, is give Him, in return, the very best part of our days.

How you live, and how you love, say more about you than you will ever know,

Our character speaks more than our words could ever say.

Be the kind of person to others, that you would want them to be to you,

A smile, and a kind word, are all that it takes, to brighten the darkest of days.

A Much Better Lens

Why must I always see empty, instead of seeing full?

Why must my attitude be so unsure?

I want to start looking through a much better lens,

When life's unexpected moments become a blur.

Are my negative glances noticed by others?

Or have my disguises fooled them all?

In a perfect world, I would show the real me,

Helpless and fragile, as a porcelain doll.

Why don't I have, what everyone else has?

Why is it so hard for me to fit in?

It's impossible to speak, the thoughts in my mind,

It's hard to convey, what you don't understand.

Why can't my few friends, come to my rescue?

Have they already given up on helping me?

I hope they can see, I really want to change,

I want to be the person, God made me to be.

Does God want my life, to be spent sitting?

Does He want me to just watch life pass me by?

Without His strength, I know I can't stand,

And if I can't stand, it may be best to just die.

Is taking my own life, my only way out?

Has my hopelessness truly brought me this far?

The words are electric as they touch my lips,

Just the thought sends a shock to my dying heart.

Was I made a new creation, to merely exist?

Aren't God's tender mercies new every day?

I choose to stop giving the enemy control,

I choose to start living, (God please make a way).

Is this what it feels like, to truly be free?

To know where I'm going, is not where I've been?

I've got a new focus, a new point of view,

I'm looking at life, through a much better lens.