The Way To The Cross 2-28-09

So you want directions?
You're at a loss?
You want me to point
your way to the cross?

Well, it's not a "direction",
and not about speed -
but get there, you're able -
you sure can, indeed.

You can't go by auto,
nor by a plane,
A rocket won't help you -
nor will a train.

You can't use your eyes
to see your way there,
You can't use your ears
or recite a prayer.

But close your eyes, listen -
to that still, small voice,
which draws you in closer.
God gives you a choice.

To choose a direction
would tear you apart,
but listen, you're closer
to your very heart.

To find that old cross,
don't look through the trees.
Just humble yourself
and fall on your knees.

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Cross On Over 2-28-09

Do you know in this world that there's no guarantee?
Cross on over to Calvary.

If you're lonely right now to such a degree...
Cross on over to Calvary.

Strip all pride away that keeps you from Me.
Cross on over to Calvary.

You may be confused, but do not flee.
Cross on over to Calvary.

I am the bridge that you can see.
Cross on over to Calvary.

Leave your troubles, world debris.
Cross on over to Calvary.

Grace is yours, always free.
Cross on over to Calvary.

See Calvary's tree.
Cross on over to Calvary.

Your faith is key.
Cross on over to Calvary.

There's no fee.
Cross on over to Calvary.

You, Me.
Cross on over to Calvary.

We.
Cross on over to Calvary.

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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John 14:6 (NASB) Jesus said to him, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through Me."

Poet's Prayer 2-27-09

"Father," I pray as I walk along,
"give me the words that would flow like a song.
A poem of promise, of hope and of love
that would focus lost sinners on You up above....

The moon's shining bright from behind an oak branch,
but it's cold here tonight on my dear humble ranch.
I'd be so happy if I was a tree,
for they stand much taller, much taller than me.

Their tops are much closer to Heaven I know,
and they just get closer, the more that they grow.
There's no clouds in the sky - but if so, they would be
joyously singing up there with Thee.

The stars in the sky seem much brighter tonight.
They must be so close they reflect Heaven's light.
The gold, alabaster - the pearls and brass
I bet shine like prisms through diamond-like glass.

Oh, to get closer to Heaven - one peek....
could give me the thoughts that would make these words speak.
The sights would bring words and to earth I would bring
the poem of poems - itself it would sing.

Instead, here I stand in the shivering cold,
a mindless numb man who was late getting old.
But here, down on earth, I'll perform every task,
and faithfully do everything that You ask.

I know that these people will not have a clue,
because this small poem cannot describe You.
So quickly this world forgets who You are,
They miss (as they're sleeping), the bright Morning Star.

I know that the God of Love's heart had to grieve,
when Heaven's gates opened to let Your Son leave -
to die on a cross that folks want to forget.
They just do not care - not one little bit.

Because of Your grace and through faith I believe,
You're the Great Poet and me You don't leave.
You live deep within, so I'll faithfully write -
for the greatest of poems come deep from the heart.

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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A Cardboard Christian? 2-26-09

Are you a cardboard Christian - who folds so neatly out,
then goes to church on Sunday - yet seldom goes without?

Do you look good to others - yet void beneath the skin -
a box that never carried fruit, a box that should begin?

Wake up! and look to Jesus! Do not be weary eyed!
Did He not pray profusely - that night before He died?

Are you a cardboard Christian - a shadow on the wall,
a ceiling fan that spins around but never hears His call?

He calls from that old rugged cross - the perfect sacrifice.
Do we deny like Peter - not once, not twice, but thrice?

Is your sword made up of plastic? Is your helmet made of tin?
Is your breastplate sounding hollow? Is your shield paper thin?

Take up your cross and follow Him. Take up your yoke and plow.

Was that huge stone not rolled away? Is He not living now?

Don't focus in the mirror - but on our God above.
for we are merely blood and guts - but He's the God of love!

Some questioned Jesus and His ways. Don't be a doubting Thomas.
Focus on the "least of these" and listen to His promise!

Wake up! and smell God's roses! Lift up your voices, sing!
Raise high your hands and stomp your feet and praise our Lord and King!

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Knocking at the Door 2-22-09

Can you believe it?? My team is up by ten!!
With this interception, we might just score again!!
This is so exciting - and now they'll run the clock -
but what was that? I heard a knock, knock, knock.

Probably a salesman. "Go away!" I yelled!
(I was MUCH too busy with the remote control I held).
Just one quarter more to go and then it's the division.
Knock, knock, knock I heard again - but I made my decision.

I snatched up popcorn in my fist and stuffed it in my mouth,
and should they win this final game - they will be headed south.
I grabbed a drink, opened it and chugged down half a can.
No one ever questioned it - that I'm their biggest fan!

Knock, knock, knock I heard again. Grrrrrr, "I don't want any!!!"
This is SO important. It's now third down and twenty.
UGH - they scoop a fumble, with a touchdown spike the ball -
now with only three points up, my team could finally fall.

Knock, knock, knock. Okay, that's it. This I won't forgive!
I got up off my special throne. I have advice to give!
I flung the door wide open - gazed with a deadly stare,
then poked my head out quickly - asked, "Is anybody there?"

Silence - 'cept for a neighbor, "Did you see who that was?"
I yelled back, "I do not care - and care less what he does!"
he called back, "Do not get mad - and certainly don't cuss!
The man you didn't answer to was none-other than Jesus."

Jesus? - (my thoughts ran wild) was knocking at MY door?
My priorities I straightened now, not worried 'bout the score.
"He's gone." I thought discouraged, "I didn't hear His voice.
That game was too important - and I had made my choice."

"Jesus!" I yelled out loud, "Come! I really care!"
But the neighborhood was silent, and Jesus wasn't there.
"Did I miss a chance?" I thought. An ambulance drove up.
Men ran through my open door and shocked a little pup.

I ran back to see it all - and I sure got a scare,
for there I was a-sittin' - dead in my special chair.
So my life is over (sobbing), give me one more chance!
That game was not important - as I fell into a trance....

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org

Revelation 3:20 (NASB) "Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me."

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Poem From Jesus 2-21-09

If Jesus wrote a poem,
and shipped it down the ladder,
would He send it lovingly,
condoning empty chatter?

Or really, if He wrote one
would He truly have a fit?
I wonder what He'd tell us -
well, maybe this is it...

---

"My dearest child, I love you.
You'll never know how much.
I see you but I can't appear
through prayer.  Please keep in touch.

If you saw Me, you'd believe,
but faith would fade away.
I wish you'd pray once in awhile,
you really should today.

Have a heart, I reach for yours,
with both my wounded hands -
but know you're much too far away
from Heaven's perfect lands.

So grace I give abundantly -
please listen to my voice.
It's still a sweet, soft whisper,
I give you all a choice.

You know My time is not your time.
I hung for not mere hours -
and oh, that wicked cross I bore
still has its sacred powers.

The whip, the torture, rope and nails
still pains me yet today -
when I see all my people -
forget me, go astray.

It's then my tears in torrents pour,
they come in drenching rains.
Those winds are my mere whispers
that blow across the plains.

I formed you in my image.
I made you good and true,
but then allowed a serpent
and left it up to you.

Many were deceived by him,
from Adam's time 'til now.
Their faith grew on the simple,
mere earthly things allow.

So trivial your wishes,
on petty things you feed.
Please stumble not on Satan's lie -
remember 'mustard seed'?.

My grace was all sufficient
for every soul on earth -
but faith is all I ever asked
from you who want rebirth.

I created you, a human,
not a servant angel.
Faith will choose the Heavens -
the lack, forever hell.

By grace you are saved through faith
not grace alone to coast -
nor by any other means,
nor works, that you might boast.

Few enter through the narrow gate.
They listen to instruction.
But most will focus not on me,
but wide path to destruction.

Oh, please believe I love you.
You, my precious few.
Because of faith I chose you.
Your faith has seen you through.

My dearest child, I love you.
You'll never know how much -
so pray until I bring you home
to feel this Master's touch."

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 7 (NASB)
13 Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.
14 But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.

Prayer Poem (of love) 2-20-09

I pray this soiled poem,
that's tattered, torn and curled,
finds its way to every eye
around this wicked world.
Pen and ink have spilled my love
upon this paper's face.
I've poured out every ounce of love,
then added Father's grace.

I took this soiled paper -
out to my mail box.
and know that it was carried,
for several, several blocks.
It found its way on semi's,
on trains, on airplanes too -
then criss-crossed 'round the world,
and made its way to you.

I pray that my concern for you
disperses not in vapor.
My prayer behind these lonely words
cries out within this paper.
I've been in your shoes many times
and no, I've not been perfect,
but here it is, this poem's yours
with utmost, dear respect.

Yes, this poem's traveled miles
and now it so appears,
its now for you, for you to read,
after all these years....
Take now, a bold, manly step
and find out something new.
My prayer poem traveled far.
Here. This is for you.

---

"Oh Father - see this poem
that I'm holding in my hands?
It's been to several countries
and its seen so many lands.
But now it's here - I'm holding it.
It really is for me -
and I am so discouraged that
I want to be set free!

Like this letter, I have traveled,
many, many miles.
I've been lost for many years,
sin stole so many smiles.
My heart was cold, like the tree
that stands collecting moss.
Until this poem searched me out,
I could not see Your cross.

Father, You have now changed me
from black to perfect white,
and I have put your armor on,
I'll be your special knight.
My shield of faith protects me and
my sword, I'll always read.
And in it, I'll find answers
for every single need.

Thank you for my special friend
who cared enough to give -
me, this love-filled poem
so now, I too, can live.
I'm sending now, this poem on
so another friend can see.
But now I know why it's so soiled...
I've added tears from me."

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Get REAL! 2-18-09

Tattoo's ink smeared everywhere,
with piercings by the score -
and color-copied rainbow hair,
how can we handle more?

To get a little self-respect
our clothes must have a label.
Our auto's must be perfect,
or we appear unstable.

Eye lashes must be fastened on.
Scent squirts out from sprayers -
liner must be perfect drawn
with powder caked in layers.

Our jewelry we can wear with pride
and aging spots can cover -
the wrinkles we can try to hide
so no one will discover.

Through remedies we dig and dig.
We make a real fuss.
But apply the lipstick to a pig -
it's surface, surface, surface!

We try to conquor blunder,
we think we've conquored dull,
but what I have to wonder
is, what's inside our skull?

Man can't look beyond the skin,
Man looks at the face.
Man sees only fat or thin.
Man sees only 'race'.

God sees through all shallowness.
God sees through the skin.
God sees down inside our heart,
God sees deep within.

Some day man might teach our youth.
Some day man might feel.
Some day man might learn the truth
and hopefully get REAL!

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Picture Frames 2-18-09

Picture frames sure vary so,
whether big or small.
They all have work they need to do,
whether wide or tall.

Picture frames are so unique,
maple, oak or pine -
but focus not on picture frames -
they're merely for design.

Frames can border a photo.
Frames can border a place.
Frames can border a work of art
or frames can border a face.

---

When I was just a little boy,
(and though I was quite small),
a picture I remember well
was hanging on the hall.

I know my father put it there -
its place for many years.
There it was throughout my teens -
showed sorrow, pain and tears.

That picture was of Jesus
bowed lowly on His knees -
at a huge and solid rock,
near branches from some trees.

His hands were neatly folded.
Love flowed from both His eyes.
His head was tilted way, way back -
His face gazed at the skies.

Dark clouds had covered most the sky.
Moonlight rays had lit His face,
and seemed to put a glow around
this humble Man of grace.

For years, that picture on our wall
drew thoughts within my mind...
God sent on down, His only Son,
to sinful men, unkind.

I remember well, that picture.
I don't recall the frame.
So let us frame, that others see,
that they might know His name.

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Poems 2-15-09

God's poems are like mustard seeds,
helping those with real needs,
spreading poem's seeds around,
rocky soil and fertile ground.

I pray these seeds will fall on soil,
pulling souls from earthy toil,
growing strong with such great root,
providing more with it's good fruit.

God's poems are like mustard seeds,
helping those with real needs,
and by God's grace, I do implore,
I pray this poem saves one more.

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

Matthew 9:37 (NASB) Then He said to His disciples, "The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few."
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Time Flies 2-15-09

As I lay down and close my eyes,
God shows me just how fast time flies.
I'm not a child anymore,
those days are past - beyond my door.

Recalling house and first bedroom,
remember fathers old push broom,
mother, always in the kitchen,
the "weird taste" we'd never mention.

My report card, teachers face,
my first car and my first race,
my first love and my first kiss -
but nothing matters except this:

Another day, another week,
another year, it's all oblique.
Resembling any passing weed,
days are never guaranteed.

Jesus gives us each tomorrow,
every day from God we borrow,
and if tonight He chooses me,
very soon His face I'll see.

And when I'm standing at the throne,
I'll be exposed and all alone.
We don't live the past somehow,
for God gives life - right here, right now.

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Anchored Soul 2-13-09

If the sea is the world - the ship your soul,
where are you at - and what's your goal?
When storms surge up and darken the skies,
do you know where you're at? Is there fear in your eyes?

Do your troubles seem endless and so overwhelm?
Tell me, "Are you standing alone at the helm?"
Where's the foundation when you're on a ship?
Do you hold to life with a white-knuckled grip?

When the world seems dark, dangerous, cold,
in the storms of life, will your anchor hold?
When shivering rain - sends you into shock,
is your faith secure? Is it in the Rock?

When the cold waves slap at your straining hull,
are you dazed, confused - in your empty skull?
Though the sharp winds slice as a piercing knife,
is your anchor firm from the storms of life?

Do you stay near the shore where it's not so deep?
Are trials so great, you cannot sleep?
When the waves surge over your fragile deck,
I think, overdue - your reality check.

Don't hide down below afraid of the facts.
With Jesus beside you - always relax.
Be bold and set sail! Your life is in hands,
that calms the waters - as He commands....

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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A Blind Man 2-11-09

It's a privilege to see all the colors abound,
a rainbow of colors of things all around.
My empathy cries out for those who can't see,
and dreading the thought if it happened to me.

I'm thankful for God and His infinite love,
from flowers below and the rainbow above,
but this man was blind from birth until now,
before Jesus came and then healed him how?

He lived in full darkness. No light he had seen.
Can you just imagine location and scene?
Can you imagine the thought of it all?
Spitting in dust, making clay they recall.

And of all days on Sabbath - believe it or not,
the Pharasee's angry. They argued a lot.
They questioned the blind man and his parents too.
They heard all the facts but still hadn't a clue.

He told them the truth but they didn't believe.
They asked him again and then told him to leave.
Those who had eyes were so totally blind,
but Jesus took blindness, rekindled the mind.

It's a privilege to see all the colors abound,
the rainbow of colors of things all around.
My empathy cries out for those who aren't free,
so have faith in Jesus and make yourself see!!

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

John 9 - Healing the Man Born Blind

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A Deaf Man 2-10-09

When I was just a little boy,
playing with my favorite toy,
so bored with all the waiting rooms,
grownups in their white costumes,

my parents sitting in their chairs,
me on the floor, I had no cares.
I heard some grunts and turned around,
and saw a deaf man making sound.

Our eyes had met. I was bemused.
He seemed quite different - me confused.
Why I stared, my thinking slow -
his funny hat? I do not know.

As he walked closer (me afraid),
I then ignored him as I played.
And so afraid of the unknown,
I held my space to be alone.

Then as I felt a sudden tap -
fear dropped that toy right in my lap.
I was stunned from head to toes,
and every muscle in me froze.

Something happened after that,
as he knelt down and there we sat.
We played and talked a little while -
he seemed so very versatile.

If I was deaf, I would be sad,
but he seemed happy, not so bad.
He had no fear. He shed no tear.
In fact, he grinned from ear to ear.

To talk to him (if I would choose)
he showed me language I could use.
Sign language later, I was told.
It was special, it was gold.

Also special - somewhat odd,
is the language heard from God.
After all, who'd know the cost -
without two wooden timbers crossed?

Love and grace are not mere words.
Our faith was not meant "for the birds".
It took a man who couldn't hear
to help me see this very clear.

Him I miss - his funny hat.
I never saw him after that.
Precious memories from the Lord,
remembering well, that cancer ward.

---

Sounds from nature, sounds from man,
sounds from God - He knows we can.
Sounds of thunder, sounds of loss,
sounds from Jesus on the cross....

If we can hear without our ears,
God will conquer all our fears.
Listen close, it is a plus.
God hates sin - but hates, not us.

If we have heard and understood,
we know the cross was more than wood.
When all is said and all is done,
we too, can hear God's only Son.

Just listen....

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Slave Loyalty 2-7-09

.

The best slave in the world,

is the one who doesn't know he's a slave.

He's one who will do all he is told,

and for his master will always behave.

When his master offers greater rewards,

he is right there ready and willing to serve -

obedient every waking minute -

and proves to his master - he has nerve.

And so it's been for thousands of years,

best slaves have been obedient and gave.

Sin is the master who goes unseen -

best slaves oblivious, to their grave....

The best slave in the world,

is the one who doesn't know he's a slave.

He's one who will do all he is told,

and for his master, will always behave.

Never be a slave to sin.

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Time 2-4-09

Time is elusive.

God made it that way.

Because man's abusive,

man must pass away.

If man lived forever,

would Caesar still bring -

a power so clever

that he'd still be king?

We need to take pause -

look truth in the eye.

Sin is the cause,

and we know that's why.

God has a purpose

for both you and I.

We might make a fuss,

but we will soon die.

Time is elusive

but stands in our way.

Because sin's abusive,

man will pass away.

Truth's hard to swallow.

Life can be brutal.

But if God we follow -

life won't be futile.

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Hebrews 9:27 (KJV)

 And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment:

Mustard Seed Christian 2-2-09

For God so loved the world, why?
-merely so His Son could die?
What did the serpent represent?
And why to earth was Jesus sent?
Heads [for years] theologians spun,
convincing Christians they had won,
so easy thoughts we now regard -
where grace is free - and faith, not hard.

Dividing Christians from the rest,
should God give us a 'free-will' test?
For faith is what God's looking for,
as saving grace He has out-poured.
Does He choose the ones to bury,
and the faith that others carry -
or does He choose the faithful son,
whose life is still a fruitful one?

For son, daughter, mother, father -
an everlasting spring of water.
While no one falls away from grace,
faith is something some replace.
Though none are taken from His hand,
we cannot build on sinking sand.
We want our drive-ups and fast food -
salvation likewise, we include.

Many will hear (as they forgot);
"Depart from me, I knew you not."
And that's why many will be lost...
they [know not love] at any cost.
Though "ye, of little faith" we hear,
many shun it year to year.
If, to the world, we embrace -
there is no faith and is no grace.

Love and service is in our hands,
if we hold faith, heed His commands.
Love is service, faith grows fruit.
A mustard seed must grow its root.
A mustard seed has water needs -
but water needs no mustard seeds.
If grace is water, faith can root,
so follow Christ and produce fruit.

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

Just how serious are Christians today?
Be a Mustard Seed Christian.

Gen. 3:6
John 3:16
Matt. 7:23
Matt. 7:26

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Endure 2-1-09

If I can't endure ridicule,
if I can't endure humility,
if I can't endure some yelling -
then how can God endure me?

If I can't endure a doctor,
if I can't endure a sore knee,
if I can't endure the waiting,
then how can God endure me?

If I can't endure my neighbor,
if I can't endure family,
if I can't endure disturbance -
then how can God endure me?

If I can't endure the messes,
if I can't endure some debris,
if I can't endure depression -
then how can God endure me?

If I can't endure a mistake,
if I can't endure stormy sea,
if I can't endure some failure -
then how can God endure me?

If I can't endure the taxing,
if I can't endure the degree,
if I can't endure government -
then how can God endure me?

If I can't endure employment,
if I can't endure my boss -
then how can I endure God's way,
and take up my own cross?

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

Matthew 10:22 (NASB) "You will be hated by all because of My name, but it is the one who has endured to the end who will be saved."

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