Noise, Noise, Noise! 4-20-11

More autos, planes, computer games and toys, toys, toys...
...is this what life is all about - the noise, noise, noise?

If man said He could cut the noise in half, half, half -
I'd not believe. I'm sorry, but I'd laugh, laugh, laugh!

Transparent man - I laugh so hard, I cry, cry, cry...
all it seems we want to do is buy, buy, buy.

God creates, commands and we will see, see, see -
that man has pride - he's foolish as can be, be, be.

Don't let a quiet corner be too rare, rare, rare -
get on your knees and whisper up a prayer, prayer, prayer.

And use your ears - you really have a choice, choice, choice -
to spend some time and listen for His still, small, voice. (1 Kings 19:12)

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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1 Kings 19:11,12 (KJV)

11 And he said, Go forth,

 and stand upon the mount before the LORD.
 And, behold, the LORD passed by,

and a great and strong wind rent the mountains,

 and brake in pieces the rocks before the LORD;
but the LORD was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake;
 but the LORD was not in the earthquake:  12 And after the earthquake a fire;
 but the LORD was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.

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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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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Stale Bread & Smelly Fish 10-29-08

First created in His image - then threw out of Eden.
What dominion was received to plow the seeds of men?

Satan owns deception, and this is his proposal:
"World's tools you cannot use. They're all at my disposal".

But yet, those very tools, that lies could not destroy;
helped Jesus feed five thousand - with food from one small boy.

Did he pay attention, when he heard Jesus' call?
Or did he wait for someone else’s food to feed them all?

What if no one listened? What if no one shared?
What if no one bothered? What if no one cared?

Did intimidation strike him - with grownups to compare?
What if he stood silent? Would everybody stare?

I'm sure the bread was stale. I'm sure the fish was smelly -
and who made him responsible to feed their hungry belly?

What if doubts were planted - not knowing if he could?
What if faith and fish and bread – seemed so little good?

Was he called to do such things - to worry 'bout the present?
Or was he called to preach the Word? Are words the full intent?

Do we think there's someone else - who God will call by name,
and therefore won't engage ourselves? Who then would be to blame?

But Jesus proved His miracles, with meager food and powers;
God created fish and bread - then blesses us with ours.

Did Jesus sit in synagogues? Was He not salt and light?
And did He reach beyond those doors? Did He not lead the fight?

The "experts" did not like Him. He wasn't keeping quiet.
He questioned all their politic. Their answer then was riot.

Three times disciples fell asleep, so tell me if you please;
Were they really faithful as He wept there on His knees?

Please, can someone tell me, Is faith without works dead?
Was Jesus really faithful when – the thorns cut deep, His head?

Was Jesus really faithful then - with shouts of insults said?
Was Jesus really faithful, when on the cross He bled?

Was Jesus really faithful - our nails, He took instead?
Was Jesus really faithful - when life hung by a thread?

Now tell me - was He faithful when they pronounced Him dead?
And can anybody tell me - that words suffice instead?

Jesus sweat before that cross - but works, did not subdue;
for Jesus did not only pray - He also followed through.

I suppose it's time to ask myself - (regarding that young boy),
Have I sat in idleness - and with it, helped destroy?

What impact do I have today? What is my greatest wish?
Did that small boy surpass me with - stale bread and smelly fish?

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

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The Answer To My Prayers (summer 2004)

I was walking down the road, in the autumn of my years;
the leaves were brilliant colors, though my eyes were red with tears.

My pain was ever mounting. Death was always surely near -
my troubles and my heartache held me tight in cold, dark fear.

I prayed to Jesus every day. Every burden I could name;
but He never seemed to answer. Every day was still the same.

Life is so unfair I pled, that I should bear this awful pain;
and then without a warning, there I stood - in pouring rain.

It came down heavy. The wind blew hard;
the mud was slick, and caught me off-guard.

Embarrassed on the cold ground - increasing anger taking hold -
I'm just too good of person. You so loved me, I was told.

I screamed again, "Life's so unfair - And getting worse!" I hissed,
and with my energy exhausted, I raised an angry fist.

Then something shook my soul. It thundered from the sky -
and then in lightning flashes, two trees had caught my eye.

One bent down across the other, (which stood along beside);
it curved if humbly bowing and exposed my selfish pride.

Were my troubles overwhelming - because I was at a loss?
Did my pains need me to stumble to see this simple cross?

So then the prayer I uttered, was something like those trees -
with one bowed low and humbly, as I knelt there on my knees.

For all the vast unfairness, in life that I had earned;
just couldn't hold a candle, to what I’d finally learned.

Did I deserve some comfort? No bird would dare to sing!
"Had I worn a thorn?" I thought, "endured a nail - or anything?"

No. My life was very easy. My burden unfairly light -
for Jesus seized that evil death, so that I could be set right.

Yes, I know that life's unfair, though not to me you see;
but rather to the Lamb of God, and His sacrifice for me!

I should have prayed less selfishly and should have looked above;
I could have prayed more reverently and could have felt His love.

I would have heard His answer and would have known He cares;
so now I humbly look to Heaven. He's the answer to my prayers!

©2004 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Isaiah 30 (NASB)

19O people in Zion, inhabitant in Jerusalem, you will weep no longer He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry; when He hears it, He will answer you.