Good Intentions 9-8-12

My beautiful intentions come when things are not at peace.
Those good intentions carry me where duties may all cease.
Such beautiful intentions can be nothing but insults,
to all the great performing tasks that bring about results.

And thoughts of great intentions come in plans so very swirled
and binds me as a hostage in this wicked, sinful world.
Intentions are the greatest but am I still drawn to sin,
when actions are but only thoughts and work need not begin?

Despite intentions beautiful, I've now begun to hate
these lands of vast utopia on clouds that dissipate.
My dreams come crashing down despite a weather that is fair.
Foundation's can't be only poured on well intentioned prayer.

What if Christ had good intentions that were not applied
and He had stayed up there in Heav'n and wasn't crucified?
But God has never, never failed and He waits for us still.
Our good intentions won't bring change ...but faithfulness sure will!

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Galatians 5:22,23 (NASB)
22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,
23 gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.

Everlasting Tears 8-6-12

With sadness in His furrowed face,

with sorrow in His eyes,

with stench of blood and streaming sweat

with death heard in His cries -

could we not tell, when grimaced He,

in pain we couldn't hear,

in anguish so, He couldn't hold

that first initial tear?

From One so pure and innocent,

from One who suffered loss,

was One who sacrificed for us

on such a wicked cross,

where one tear found an opening,

accompanied by more -

to open up the floodgates there,

as never seen before.

But were the tears that Jesus shed

from just the pain He bore?

Or were the tears that soaked His face

from something even more?

They were not tears of happiness,

or stirred up tears of joy.

They were not tears of anger's rage

or tears that would destroy.

His tears were mixed with sweat and blood

that poured down from His face,

then dripped upon His heaving chest

and quickened to a place -

a place where burdens rested,

a place so torn apart,

but place sincere and sacred too -

His heavy laden heart.

A mother knows the pain of love

when children disobey.

She'll cry for hours, days and weeks.

There is no other way -

no other way to share her tears

than blend them in a prayer,

and send them up to Jesus where,

they mix with His tears there.

So take a look at Jesus' tears

and do they not comprise,

of grace and vast eternal love

just like a mother's eyes?

Produce a single tear, can I,

acknowledging my years,

that Jesus sacrificed for me,

in everlasting tears?

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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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.’”

One And Only 1-23-11

One day soon we'll leave this world -

this world of wicked sin -

so where's the key to Heaven's Gate,

that we may step right in?

It isn't found in idols,

the silver, gold or wood -

It isn't found inside a prayer,

nor through intentions, good.

It isn't found in our career,

nor through some unclaimed perk -

It isn't found by our own hands,

nor through our greatest work.

It isn't found in churches,

or found inside a hymn.

It isn't found in human thoughts

nor through our newest whim.

It's not found in theology,

nor through man's greatest book.

It's found in yet another place -

...if only we would look.

God created just one key,

to fit in locks designed,

to hold the gate to Heaven shut -

and it's the one to find.

Heaven's gate accepts one key -

and it's the only one -

forged by grace and turned with faith

in His begotten Son.

Heaven's gate, forever locked

and firmly shut, will be -

unless within our heart we hold

that one and only key.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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My Tree Still Stands 3-24-09

The whipping winds, the freezing rain,
it did not understand the strain -
and did not understand the stress
of wicked, wintry colds excess.

Until the springtime snow was melting,
it kept taking earthly pelting.
It held firm throughout the frost
and persevered despite the cost.

Freezing rain was in the air -
yet life grew out of everywhere.
How can freezing offer good
as this tree stands misunderstood?

Does it strengthen, does it now?
Does it make me wonder how?
Does it test me, does it try,
and does it hurt me - make me cry?

Do trees know that life's not fair?
and do they know if God is there?
Liberty and freedom's great -
but it's not easy fighting hate.

Yet sunshine sees (through its appearance),

vast rewards from perseverance -
springtime buds its cheers of joy
and proves this world cannot destroy.

For God alone holds season's times -
protects our souls from earthly crimes.
And though the world claims its demands -
in springtime warmth, my tree still stands.

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

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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.

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"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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