Reminiscing 1-12-13

Something way down deep inside

my lost and lonely soul -

had eaten me until I died

of all my self-control.

Someone special lent a hand

that I did not deserve -

and touched an inner fragile strand -

a close and tender nerve.

I knew not what to make of it -

that kind, unselfish act.

My knees got weak and I admit -

was thankful.  That's a fact.

And then I sensed a flicker as

a flame on candle waves -

and saw their bumper sticker

that read, "Smile!  Jesus Saves!"

Then something in my reddened eyes

had made it hard to see -

choked up, I was, and all my cries

came pouring out of me.

So stunned in awe, I stopped to think

of all I'm guilty of.

I know my sin - once set in ink -

was wiped away with love.

Now, reminiscing has a way

to judge my many years -
so hymns in church on Sunday's now -
still well my eyes with tears.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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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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Grace Awaits 5-20-12

A little child is hungry,

but mother's flying high -

illegal drugs and alcohol

as many beers go by.

A little child is beaten,

but no one hears his cry.

the beatings simply never quit

as many tears go by.

A little child is confused

by yet another guy,

with screaming, fights and arguments

as many fears go by.

A little child becomes a teen,

and sees his best friend die -

the only life the child knows

as many peers go by.

A little child grows in greed.

The world knows not why,

but he becomes quite popular

as many cheers go by.

Another child goes to church

in Sunday suit and tie.

Through love, correction, learns respect

as many jeers go by.

But God sees faith and righteousness

while others steal and lie -

yet grace awaits with patience as

the many years go by...

©2012 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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