THE REQUEST



She walked slowly to the doorway
     misery her only companion,
          despair her guide.
Her shoulders slumped under the burden of the hopelessness.
She lifted a weary foot to cross the threshold--
                      carefully--
lest her sole brush the doorsill
             angering the god within to rise up against her,
           antagonizing him into denying her request.

The temple interior was dimly lit.
The air was cold

                               uncaring
                                               condescending.
There was no warmth of welcome.


The first god stared from a green face
          impassive
      as she poured forth her heart shattering load.
               Which crashed against ears impotent to hear.


The temple interior was dimly lit.
The air was cold
uncaring
condescending.
There was no warmth of welcome.

The first god stared from a green face
           impassive
        as she poured forth her heart shattering load.
                     Which crashed against ears impotent to hear.

She lit a slender stick of sweet incense
                             said to be this god's favorite scent.
The smoke drifted in a slim column toward the ceiling
                     where it joined its brothers,                 

                                 to form a cloying cloud above her bowed head.


She sobbed her last sigh,
                         touched her greying bun of hair wound tightly against the nape of her neck,

                                                                                                          and rose to face another god.


The flaring nostrils of this one declared cruelty.
    His eyebrows slashed hatred across his countenance.
      His eyes blazed red.
        The set of his lips showed
                                         disdain
                                               scorn.

Yet she knelt,
            crying,
in supplication.
She lit another incense taper,
                    placed it carefully in the urn between them.
She looked up.
             Her eyes brimmed with tears
         as she slowly cried her request.

And so she knelt before each of the gods
       within this small temple on an unpaved road.
     Its' doorway almost hidden by the squalor before it.
But she knew it was there
                        with its thirteen gods
                                     to be coaxed,
                                                 cajoaled,
                                                       urged
                                                              to grant her request.
                                                                            to be
                                                              bribed with sweet morsels
                                                        and aromatic incense into
                                                   hopefully,
                                            possibly,
                     maybe
                                                                      granting the request tearing from her heart.


    Her hoard of incense dwindled to one last stick
       to be placed before this
                   one
               last hope.
   Those hopes which she had carefully guarded from being
                                     dashed
had diminished to one last insistent flame throughout her
to keep her bent
             before a god who stared
                    unseeing
              out into the room
                        his eyes forever above her head.
His feelings about the request hidden
              behind a plaster face which showed
                                                no compassion,
                                                               no care,
                            no love.


As the vapor from the last incense tapor curled upward,
she turned to go.
           The burden of her request still rested
                    heavily
                           upon her careworn shoulders.

She left the temple behind her knowing
her request would go unheard,
                unanswered
       trapped in the smoke lazily floating to the ceiling.

How shall they call up Him
          in whom they have not believed?
And how shall the believe
           in whom
                    they have not heard?
                                                       How shall they hear
                                                                                 without a preacher?

                 Who shall I send?      




                                          Romans 10:14 and Isaiah 6:8

1  Is any Christian exempt from sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ?

2. What is the number one way to prepare to give the Good News?

3. Why are we afraid to share His Good News, especially in the United States?

4. Do you really understand the Holy Spirit is right there with you helping you?

5. Does it make any difference where you "start" telling others about Him?

6. What will you do when, as you, begin sharing His Word, Satan attacks you?






                                                            The Evidence
                          In memory of those Christians standing before the world because of Faith in Jesus Christ.


Standing in the Court's dark dock,
hearing the ceaseless ticking of the clock,
she knew they'd guilty find her
assured so by her hopeless lawyer.

        Her self was divided by this twisty continued lot.
        There was no hope of being set free of the garotte.
        Her life had taken this strange curve
        following this wandering, hurtful nerve.

                 Her comfortable, predictable life,
                 had become filled with awful strife.
                 She'd tried to be quiet as a mouse
                 as she moved about the house

                            Her children she must protect from harm,
                            and keep them free from all alarm.
                            They'd been too young for the hangman's noose.
                            Yet their faith had the deepest roots.

                                  When the enemy took them before her eyes,
                                  Their confidence was strong they would arise.
                                  For they, like she, was not afraid and alone.
                                  She knew that to her deepest, frailest bone.

                                      For unknown by others who were here
                                      another stood close, strong and near.
                                      He would take her by the hand,
                                      and lead her to the promised land.

                                 She might be “guilty” of loving him.
                                 She loved to sing aloud a praising hymn.
                                 But He would stand before the Heavenly judge.
                                 There then being no chance He would misjudge.

                       With Christ standing before as her advocate,
                       the God of all would not equivocate,
                       but open his arms and call her daughter.
                       For Christ's own blood had brought her

               to this Holy Land to live for all eternity,
               and into the closest, longest lasting fraternity
               of those who love and seek to serve,
               joined with those of His prosterity.

Who can guess what lies ahead of us?
But this we know, forever thus
we, with our kin and friends one and all,
will sing praises in our Father's hall.



Romans 10:9-10

"If you declare with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved."

1. Make a list of things God has done for you: little thing and big things.
2. Have you ever thanked Him when what you wanted didn't come or happen?
3. Do you check your plans with Him before you proceed?
4. How aware are you of His presence?
5. Do you miss Him? Sounds like and odd question, doesn't it?
6. How much time do you spend actively seeking Him?

                   THE MUGGAWUMP


Wearily he sits firm upon the fence.
Staying there, wishing to be hence.
Mug on one side, wump on 't'ther.
The decision is something he'd rather not 'druther.

          Sitting in sadness like a shroud,
          Yet his voice is laughing right out loud.
         He’s a being of vast contradiction.
         His soul's grinding in constant friction.

                The double yoke pulls both east and west.
                Each thought sure it is the best.
               “Ah, his soul cries, “Follow the Light.
               Love the Lord with all your might!”


                                       “But,” says flesh, you’ll surely lose
                                         All chance to ever choose.
                                        The path you really wish to trod,

                                        Must be only near to God.
             

               Surely life is Honky-tonk lights
               Frantic pace filling the nights
               Just a drifting, willy-nilly life
               Hearing God less than even Lot's wife. 


         Like a ship tossed on a hurricane sea,
         His being wavers. Accept or flee?
        Get off the fence! Accept His Grace.
        He’ll lead you to your proper place.


Joy will flood your secret being
As you find you’re not His underling,
But poised beside Him in His reign
Forever free from the Mark of Cain.

























































Remember, it's not the size of the church, it's the growing faith and outreach of your church. My idea for these poems is for each one to be read once at the beginning of whenever you begin your week. Then to mull over the questions one a day.  I plan to change these poems on a weekly basis. But, since I put this up, I have found that "life" has a different idea. Just read them and enjoy and grow closer to Our Father. 


                           The Suit

Behold! The shield of the Lord!
Over the men who hide behind,
His words ring forth, loud and strong.
As he hides behind the shield.
           I know the way we should go
           for my faith is strong!
           My life is pure, without guile,
          open before the world.


God Himself gave me great intellect and ablity.
I am the one in whom you can trust.
Look to me and follow!
Rings the boastful voice confident and fearless.
        Those behind the throne have spoken with great wisdom
         as they pushed him on to the highest office in the great land.
         His words bounce back to him from the voices of the many who
         repeat his own words a glory to his ears.

But
one Voice rings out.
         The shield is shattered against the Truth.
         Tiny pieces of lies fall like ice crystals about him.
    Each crystal illuminates his false words, deeds, companions and beliefs.
        The words, the trappings of power,
           the friends with false support are gone.
              All that's left is an empty suit.

Come, it's not too late to hear the words of Truth.
For He is the Way, the Truth and the Light.
His way is easy and he makes the burden light.
The Truth is a surety for guidance in your steps.
His Light lifts you and guides you along the way.




          Psalm 10 John 14:6

1. How do you know which voice is encouraging you to do something: The Holy Sprit or the Enemy?
2. How much time in God's annointed scripture do you read in a day, or week, or month?
3. Are you able to present Salvation to those you meet?

4. Do you enjoy telling others about Christ, or are you embarrassed?
5. What in your life could be a Satan's hidden snare?
6. Have you found a church where stong and true teaching is in every activity of the church?

                                                   The Bouncing Ball Prayer

I prayed to You,
                       God,
             upon my knees.
My heart was broken into pieces small,
                        scattered,
             tramped upon.
         By distress,
                  disappointment,
                                       depression.                        


I'd prayed this prayer before,
             time
                       after time
                                       after time.


                           Yet
                silence from Heaven was my only answer.
                                         Tell me.
                                  Answer me, please.
Yes, or no.
              Do it or don't.

                    Even,
                                        “Run from the very idea.”
                 Is it right, or is it wrong?
                                                Should I?
                                                              Shouldn't I?
                Like the widow,
                           I pound on the door of Heaven.
         Lord,
              my need's so great.
                                 

                                 Which of us will weary of my imploring?

                                                             You.

                                                     From love for me.
              You are the Bread of Life.
                             You must open or close the door,
                                         for I cannot.
                                           

                                            I wait.


Psalms 27:14 - "Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen

thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD."


1. Do you fret or wait quietly for the Lord 's direction?

2. Do you try to get God to tell you something different?

3. Do you seek other's opinions? 

4. If yes, is that wrong?

5. How patiently do you wait for Him?

6. What decision were you either happy or sad to receive?

Meditation