Poems
“The Weaver”
“My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaveth steadily.
Oft’ times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.
Not ’til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the weaver’s skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned
He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.”
"Black Hole, A Prayer for Those Going Through Dark Places" by Shirley Vickers
Oh God
I'm right back in that limbo world again.
Can't feel you close to me.
Can't feel anything.
It seemed as if things were fine -
Walking in the light.
Then suddenly panic: it's all dark:
I'm drowning.
Worries - no more than there were before -
And yet they are now so heavy.
So unsolvable,
So endless,
Sucking me down -
And I'm listening to the enemy
Who is condemning me to death
With his sly lies.
Doctors tell us that feeling 'low'
Is just like any other illness -
brought on by stress, hormones, exhaustion,
Debility,
Then why do I feel so guilty about it?
So powerless to drag myself out?
So unguarded?
Where is my knowledge of you being there -
Right beside me -
Part of me?
While my feelings scream
That because I'm like this
I have failed you,
Therefore I am less than nothing -
useless rubbish?
Please give me the disciplined mind,
To refuse to entertain these trespassing thoughts -
Which have no right to be there
Because I am your child -
To wait quietly in faith,
Until my receiving equipment is repaired
and switched on again
And I can feel you
Filling me with your big heart,
Forgiving
Empowering
And re-mobilizing me,
Where you have been all the time.
"Safe" by Sir Robert Anderson (1841 - 1918)
Safe in Jehovah's keeping,
Led by His glorious arm,
God is Himself my refuge,
-
A present help from harm.
Fears may at times distress me,
Griefs may my soul annoy;
God is my strength and portion,
God my exceeding joy.
Safe in Jehovah’s keeping,
Safe in temptation’s hour,
Safe in the midst of perils,
Kept by Almighty power.
Safe when the tempest rages,
Safe though the night be long;
E’en when my sky is darkest
God is my strength and song.
Sure is Jehovah’s promise,
Nought can my hope assail;
Here is my soul’s sure anchor,
Entered within the veil.
Blest in His love eternal,
What can I want beside!
Safe through the blood that cleanseth,
Safe in the Christ that died.
“My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaveth steadily.
Oft’ times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.
Not ’til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the weaver’s skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned
He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.”
"You are Writing a Gospel" by Paul Gilbert
A chapter each day,
By deeds that you do,
By words that you say.
Men read what you write,
Whether faithless or true;
Say, what is the Gospel
According to you?”
"All My Life" by Anna Laetitia Waring (1823-1910)
Father, I know that all my life is portioned out for me,
And the changes that are sure to come I do not fear to see;
But I ask Thee for a present mind intent on pleasing Thee.
I ask Thee for a thoughtful love, through constant watching wise,
To meet the glad with joyful smiles, and to wipe the weeping eyes;
And a heart at leisure from itself, to soothe and sympathize.
I would not have the restless will that hurries to and fro,
Seeking for some great thing to do or secret thing to know;
I would be treated as a child, and guided where I go.
Wherever in the world I am, in whatso’er estate,
I have a fellowship with hearts to keep and cultivate;
And a work of lowly love to do for the Lord on whom I wait.
So I ask Thee for the daily strength, to none that ask denied,
And a mind to blend with outward life while keeping at Thy side;
Content to fill a little space, if Thou be glorified.
And if some things I do not ask in my cup of blessing be,
I would have my spirit filled the more with grateful love to Thee,
More careful, not to serve Thee much, but to please Thee perfectly.
There are briers besetting every path that call for patient care;
There is a cross in every lot, and an earnest need for prayer;
But a lowly heart that leans on Thee is happy anywhere.
In a service which Thy will appoints there are no bonds for me;
For my inmost heart is taught “the truth” that makes Thy children “free”
And a life of self-renouncing love is a life of liberty.