The Miracle 6-17-10

My heart is very special,
and though it weighs a ton,
I'm careful as it's fragile -
for I have only one.

Though God is love and offers me
the great life I can live -
I first must ask forgiveness
before He will forgive.

However, if I'm hardened
and fail at all to feel -
certainly my tears won't fall
and bring my heart to heal.

So if my heart is harder,
I'll find I cannot cry.
But oh, to shed a single tear -
I'll give it one more try.

I won't despair and cry a lot -
it isn't God's intent,
but if guilt still has season here,
I'll prayerfully repent.

And then perhaps, if flood gates fall,
and tears like rivers flow -
through the valley, shadow's death,
in humbleness, I'll grow.

Jesus loves me, this I know -
throughout these many years -
and on the cross He proved it so -
through all His many tears.

And if my heart I give Him,
while I am torn apart -
He will cup His holy hands
and hold my broken heart.

Peace will grow inside me
as angels soar aloft -
but I won't see the miracle
unless my heart is soft.

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

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Mark 6:5 (NASB) And He could do no miracle there except that He laid His hands on a few sick people and healed them.

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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Grace 1-18-07

Faults have consequence - always entwine.

My faults are many. My sins are all mine.

If I could forget -but I know not how-

and failures still haunt me, even now.

Maybe a few - or maybe many,

the burdens I bear - they are aplenty.

Even one burden that's heavy and great,

crushes me totally under its weight.

What have I done? And what is the cure?

My guilt is too heavy. I cannot endure....

I could change it - make it all disappear-

if I could relive each wayward year.

I cannot go back, but if i could,

would my new actions be perfectly good?

I guess I know that this miserable soul,

could not relive it and make me whole.

I'm all torn apart - from limb to limb.

My hope is but gone, my life bleak and grim.

My head is spinning. Emotions are tossed.

Oh, woe am I – I am totally lost!

If the world could smell my putrid old blood,

they would drag my body through all the mud.

And If I was judged by truth and jury,

they'd hang me quick in their own fury.

And if the judge was fair, cold and just,

was shown my failures - rot, odor and rust;

he'd throw the whole world of death down at me,

and hang me high from the tallest tree.

I'd be happy. I sure would not run-

if I could wish it completely undone!

But I cannot change a single thing,

I must sacrifice. I will now bring-

all my possessions, all my good stuff,

my house, my car, my job... is that enough?

Take my wealth, put it all under key.

Is that not enough? Please just agree.

Really, the answer is not mine to give,

I can't change history. I cannot relive....

The answer was gifted from one loving face-

from God's act of mercy and glorious grace.

No, even that is so insufficient,

for I am so lost - ugly, deficient;

No work I can do, will fix up my past,

nor heal one scar of failures sharp blast.

Please! My burden, could someone now lift?

It would be the greatest, most special gift!

Who could love so much - to take such a loss,

and die Himself - on a rugged old cross?

Really, the answer is not mine to give,

I can't change history. I cannot relive....

The answer was gifted from one loving face-

from God's act of mercy and glorious grace.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Romans 11:6 (NASB) “But if it is by grace, it is no longer on the basis of works, otherwise grace is no longer grace.