My Precious Time 7-24-12

(from a woman's perspective )

So handsome is my smiling man.
I find him quite a guy.
The months and years begin to roll
as precious time slips by...

I try to build that perfect life.
No matter how I try,
I learn this is no perfect world
as precious time slips by...

So beautiful, the Heavens are,
that share the starry sky.
I search for many answers there
as precious time slips by...

But winds contour the heated sands.
My words grow faint and dry.
The sand runs through my fingers too
as precious time slips by...

And frigid is the northwest front.
My tears freeze when I cry.
It finds me blind and unprepared
as precious time slips by...

So wonderful, that smiling man -
but years, we could not buy.
Though handsome as the day we met,
our precious time slipped by...

And now my loved one passed away.
Through tears I say, "Good bye"
but cling to pride and humble not,
as precious time slips by...

Yet patiently, my Lord still knocks.
His love, the reason why.
Will I ignore or answer Him?
My precious time slips by...

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Just Another Angel 7-23-12

(based on a true story this morning, Monday, July 23, 2012.  The pastor is 91)

His wife and son were in the store.

He shuffled past me twice.

My eyes were red.  I hid my face.

I wanted no advice.

He must have sensed my emptiness

as I was feeling low -

because he sat down next to me.

I had nowhere to go.

We both were thinking our own thoughts

and no one said a word -

until his son walked up to us

and this is what I heard...

"My dad was once a pastor -

and had been several years.

He helped so many countless souls

and quenched their many fears."

Just then his wife came up to him

and said, "I'm ready now."

It had an impact over me.

Right then, I knew not how.

The pastor said some simple words

as he stood up to leave.

He simply said, "God loves you and

He wants you to believe."

He turned, began to walk away,

so I said, "Thank you much."

At that, he smiled and said goodbye.

I felt a loving touch.

A touch that cannot be described

in just a word or two -

but cures the lowest, broken heart

when it hears, "God loves you."

Was this a pure coincidence?

Were these words meant to be,

from just another angel sent,

from God, to earth - for me?

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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When We Don't Talk 7-13-12

I know that you get busy with the things that have to be,

but oh, if you could put yourselves in my shoes so you'd see...

a world imploding inward and- that leaves me high and dry,

a world that's ever-changing and- still makes me hurt and cry.

Again, another tune is heard. Another text arrives.

You're tuning out the real world, ignoring real lives.

Oblivious to what's around, engrossed inside your games,

you wouldn't really know it if your house was up in flames.

Bad habits, you're addicted to- on games of every kind,

on tunes and 'apps' that master you- control and seize your mind.

You're focused on your chat or text- and yes, that's really why

you cannot hear the words I speak or look me in the eye.

There's many little gadgets in, your world of make-believe.

They hold your full attention in, that world so hard to leave.

But one day you will not escape. Temptation's underneath,

where it conceives great weeping and- the gnashing too, of teeth.

I do not need those gadgets there, but oh, I love to hear

your "please's" and your "thank you's" as- you pray from year to year.

My pain was most unbearable when I was crucified,

so don't forget to talk to Me and set your world aside.

---

Yes, pain is quite unbearable, when children do not call.

They think our conversations are, most trivial and small.

This poem is about a world that will grow gravely grim -

and now we know, how Jesus feels- when we don't talk to Him...

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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1 Thessalonians 5: 12-22 (NASB)

12 But we request of you, brethren, that you appreciate those who diligently labor among you,

and have charge over you in the Lord and give you instruction,

13 and that you esteem them very highly in love because of their work.

Live in peace with one another.

14 We urge you, brethren, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted,

help the weak, be patient with everyone.

15 See that no one repays another with evil for evil,

but always seek after that which is good for one another and for all people.

16 Rejoice always;

17 pray without ceasing;

18 in everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

19 Do not quench the Spirit; 20 do not despise prophetic utterances.

21 But examine everything carefully; hold fast to that which is good;

22 abstain from every form of evil.

Chasing Dreams 7-9-12

I ran through life - got thrown off-guard -
and stumbled over dreams so hard.
With future bright and never dim -
if only I had followed Him.

Yet Christ is found among the crowds
and penetrates my darkest clouds.
Though marred in sin as black as coal,
He lifted me, my wicked soul.

His endless love flows as the breeze,
He holds secure with cradled ease.
He rocks us close on clouds aloft,
with loving grace in arms so soft.

Yet we still choose to trip and fall,
oh, how we think we know it all -
and then complain when we get hurt.
But Christ can lift us off the dirt...

Do I still choose to chase my dreams?
So busy are these times, it seems.
Did I repent? I knew I ought -
but time I had - or so I thought...

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Luke 13 (NASB)

1 Now on the same occasion there were some present who reported to Him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. 2 And Jesus said to them, “ Do you suppose that these Galileans were greater sinners than all other Galileans because they suffered this fate? 3 I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish. 4 Or do you suppose that those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them were worse culprits than all the men who live in Jerusalem? 5 I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.”

6 And He began telling this parable: “A man had a fig tree which had been planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and did not find any. 7 And he said to the vineyard-keeper, ‘Behold, for three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree without finding any. Cut it down! Why does it even use up the ground?’ 8 And he answered and said to him, ‘Let it alone, sir, for this year too, until I dig around it and put in fertilizer; 9 and if it bears fruit next year, fine; but if not, cut it down.’”

My Pastor 7-2-12

My pastor, I will not forget,
and wasn't my first choice,
to lead my favorite gospel hymns
with his low, raspy voice.

He couldn't seem to keep a beat
or hit a single note.
He once admitted to us all,
he sounded like a goat!

At times, the sermon, he'd forget.
Sometimes he'd drop his cane.
Most thought he was a special man -
but some, a bit insane.

Though he was sometimes questioned by
his well-intentioned peers,
a wisdom came to flourish from
vast Bible-reading years.

He often had a part-time job,
yet seemed to be around,
to answer all my crazy calls
with questions more profound.

Although he eased my fears and pain,
he had fears of his own.
Because we never heard complaints,
his ills were rarely known.

He sometimes lost his glasses and
the few announcements too.
His pocket watch would sometimes stop.
He fell a time or two.

His clumsiness was obvious,
He spilled his water cup.
Though Satan tried distracting him,
he never did give up.

So preach, he did, each Sunday morn,
through babies cries or cough.
He'd speak awhile and then some more,
'till grandpa dozed right off.

His speech would race, emotions great -
he'd tell us of God's Son,
who had to die to save the lost -
for me and everyone.

Once grandpa 'sawed his logs' quite loud.
Who knew what grandpa dreamed?
Yet pastor never missed a beat.
So futile preaching seemed.

Sometimes I'd reminisce when he
would knock on grandpa's door -
to visit him when he was sick,
then here, dismiss his snore.

But higher still, than grandpa's snore -
his words echoed above.
He'd pound down on my hardened heart
the softness of God's love.

I'll not forget his alter calls,
his passioned plea, to come -
and lay my every burden down -
so Christian, I'd become.

And one thing more I'll not forget,
in sermons through the weeks -
that he loved every one of us -
the proof ran down his cheeks.

My pastor, I will not forget.
He wasn't my first choice.
Delighted, though, I'd be again
to hear that raspy voice.

***

We love you pastor. You're sincere.

Oh, how we all recall,

the many ways we challenged you.

You rose above it all.

There's so much more you did for us.

Compassion you could share.

You've 'walked the talk' so faithfully,

so this begins our prayer...

"Dear Jesus, hear us. Give this man

a very special place.

You'll know him when you see him there -

for he reflects Your grace.

Today, we'll reminisce and miss,

past times that slipped away.

We thank you for our pastor and,

his very special way..."

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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