It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Jesus 12-22-11

To the tune of:

"It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas"

It's beginning to look a lot like JESUS,
everywhere I go.
I still look at the virgin birth.  Knowing Him here on earth -
still warms my heart and makes my spirit glow.
It's beginning to look a lot like JESUS,
miracles in store -
but the prettiest sight I'll see
is the baby that will be -
who I can't ignore.

A cross with no handles, with no pair of sandals,
He carried it right up until -
our actions horrendous with weight so tremendous -
He fell halfway up the hill.
The soldier men so full of sin, just wanted to torture and kill.

It's beginning to look a lot like JESUS,
faithful as before -
and we Christians must always be, like the Jesus that we see -
through a world at war...

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Footprints Found 12-24-10

From birth, thrown in a frightful scene,
as life unveils its scroll.
We travel to and fro until
a pathway finds our soul.
Our days are dark and dreary.
Our nights are long and cold.
But here on earth we break our trail -
until we all grow old.

...

I broke my lonely pathway.
I traveled all alone -
and it, a unique pathway -
none else had ever known.
I traveled my own pathway.
I'd everything to lose.
But no one knew my pathway and -
no one wore my shoes.

One day I happened on a trail
aside from sin and hate -
but few were drawn onto it -
so narrow and so straight.
And on it I saw footprints,
that wavered, not the least.
I followed them most carefully
though problems never ceased.

That pathway found no safety -
and I had questioned 'why?'.
I heard the growling animals.
Black vultures circled high.
A lion jumped in front of me.
I froze - my faith devoid.
My goal, career and future were
virtually destroyed.

I heard loud screams from others -
more painful shrieks and cries -
and yes, I still was frightened -
not cloaked from sin and lies.
A jungled mess of selfishness,
a shadowed woods misguided -
drove the anger ever close.
My fear had not subsided.

Yet... steady still, those footprints.
They wavered not a bit.
They never once had faltered.
That 'someone' never quit.
I stopped and rested quite awhile,
then carried on again.
Faith had urged me onward so -
to flee from evils sin.

Still wavered not, those footprints,
still spaced the same apart -
this 'Someone' had a purpose,
this 'Someone' had a heart.
They led straight to a clearing.
It was so peaceful there.
I stopped and saw a beauty, to
which nothing could compare.

My mouth fell open, as to speak.
Mere words were at a loss.
I saw those faithful footprints aim -
directly to a cross.
Then clumsily, I stumbled -
I grasped that mighty tree.
My 'little faith' reached for support,
until grace lifted me.

'Born again', I was that day,
when I was made complete.
I hugged that bloody, splintered cross -
'til back upon my feet.
And yes, my eyes were opened.
Spilt blood had left the hint.
For clearly seen in crimson was -
His faithful, final print.

...

God sees us run in circles as,
we leave prints deep in clay.
He sees our every footprint as -
we're lost along the way;
Our path is never narrow,
nor straightway Heaven-bound -
and feet are either on our paths -
or in His footprints found.

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 7:14 (King James Version)
Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way,

which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.

My Mom 5-3-09

My Mom,
who hugged me after painful birth,
who loved me more than all this earth,
who tucked me in when I was cold,
who, though crying, she would hold,

who stayed up nights, looked over me,
who put me first, instead of 'she',
who didn't sleep - rocked me instead,
who kissed my tiny, warm forehead,

who proved her love time and again,
who never quit through thick and thin,
who, for days, awake would keep,
who held me 'til I'd fall asleep.

who fed me, bathed me, clothed me too,
who taught me, spanked me 'til I grew,
who knew my treasures on my shelf,
who knew me more than me, myself,

who told me, "Don't your brother taunt."
who gave advice I didn't want,
who knew behind my ears was dirt,
who gave instruction 'til it hurt.

Mom won't make our history book,
but if she did, no one would look.
Though she knew scripture inside-out,
there's nothing I could write about.

Was Mom so special? Not to you,
for she had me - then followed through.
Moms fall short of explanation -
but they built this very nation.

Mom, I love you -
(and all Moms everywhere....)

©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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Complaints Heard Here 1-27-09

We get so excited with weddings and births,
or other great things which are part of the earth's -
like parties and joking, and all of the sports,
hobbies, vacations and games of all sorts.

But then when our lives take a turn for the worse,
with unfair disasters which carry a curse,
we'll complain when things don't go our way -

and our chance will come. We're one heartbeat away.

I wonder if God hears a thanks or a grumble,
whenever our hearts are a little less humble?
Will all our complaining spill over the brim,
when soon we'll be standing - in front of Him?

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

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More Than Words 11-2-08

Reciting prayers for two thousand years
won't make them anymore truthful -
and reading, planning all day long,
won't make us anymore fruitful.

And where is the prayer when it is spoke
if no one understands it?
Where are the prayers when acts don't match,
with words and acts so split?

A cake might be the perfect one and hungry eyes may lurk -
but the oven must be hot enough for everything to work.
And cakes are more than recipes and more than ingredients.
Prayers cannot exist alone - but take obedience.

While birth is more than birth pangs and a baby we're proud of.
Love is more than marriage and, God is more than love.
Life is more than a beating heart - one sparrow, more than birds.
And life is more - once it's lived - as a prayer is more than words.

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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In His Image 10-15-07

Before the birth, Father prepared Him a bed.
He then was born, as God created.
The young Boy played. Father gave Him drink and bread,
And nurtured Him, as He created.

This young Man grew. Father taught Him every thread,
And trained Him up, as He created.
This Man had served. Father's love was widely spread,
to the masses, as He created.

This Man was tried. Father's love had never fled,
from His people, as He created.
This Man was whipped. Father held Him as He bled,
and to the cross, as He created.

His Son was hung. Father's wrath was on His head,
first became last, as He created.
Dead and buried, Father lifted Him instead,
Last became first, as He created.

Yet now I live. Who knows my road ahead?
Those questions cry, as He created.
So I take up my cross - and am faithfully led,
in His image, as He created.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

Genesis 1:27 (KJV)“So God created man in His own image, in the image of God created He him; male and female created He them.”

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Arms Still Open Wide 6-26-07

In this world of greed and hate, where sin and love collide;
God reveals man's pestilence with arms still open wide.

Little children, come to Him. In Him you can abide;
He calls to you, He loves you - with arms still open wide.

Men and women, come to Him. Put all your work aside;
He calls to you and comforts - with arms still open wide.

Since our birth we've all denied - so come to His dear side;
God is love, He will provide - with arms still open wide.

Listen, sinner, hear His voice, "Forgive them," Jesus cried;
For on that cross He held your nails - with arms still open wide.

©2007 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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