The Cross

 In evil long I took delight,

Unawed by shame or fear,

Till a new object struck my sight,

And stopped my wild career.

I saw One hanging on a tree,

In agonies and blood;

He fixed His languid eyes on me,

As near His cross I stood.

Sure never till my latest breath,

Shall I forget that look!

It seemed to charge me with His death,

Though not a word He spoke.

A second look He gave, which said,

"I freely all forgive;

This blood is for thy ransom paid;

I die that thou mayest live."

Thus while His death my sin displays

In all its blackest hue,

Such is the mystery of grace,

It seals my pardon too!

—John Newton

Destined for a Fall

 There was a people long ago

     Who had great riches, wealth untold;

     They built a city with a wall,

     A kingdom they thought would never fall.

     How they labored unceasingly

     To lay up treasure increasingly;

     They gave no thought to what lay beyond,

     That their kingdom would someday be gone.

     But one by one the stones came down;

     The city was leveled to the ground,

     No more fortune to be found,

     No one left to wear a crown.

     The mighty kingdom fell at last;

     Its beauty's gone, its pleasure's past;

     All was lost they sought to gain,

     Their lives were wasted, their labor vain.

     You can build a kingdom with a mighty wall,

     But like the kingdom long ago, it is destined for a fall,

     Unless Christ the Lord becomes your King

     And ruler of everything.

—Perry Boardman

Forever with the Lord

 Forever with the Lord!

Amen; so let it be,

Life from the dead is in that word,

'Tis immortality.

Here in the body pent,

Absent from Him I roam,

Yet nightly pitch my moving tent

A day's march nearer home.

My Father's house on high,

Home of my soul, so near,

At times, to faith's far-seeing eye

Thy golden gates appear!

Yet clouds will intervene,

And all my prospect flies,

Like Noah's dove, I flit between

Rough seas and stormy skies.

And the clouds depart,

The winds and waters cease,

While sweetly o'er my gladdend heart

Expands the bow of peace.

In darkness as in light,

Hidden alike from view,

I sleep, I wake, as in His sight,

Who looks all nature through.

Forever with the Lord!

Father, if 'tis Thy will,

The promise of that faithful word

Even here to me fulfil.

Be Thou at my right hand,

Then can I never fail,

Uphold Thou me, and I shall stand,

Fight, and I must prevail.

Knowing as I am known,

How shall I love that word!

And oft repeat before the throne,

Forever with the Lord!

Forever with the Lord!

Amen; so let it be,

Life from the dead is in that word,

'Tis immortality.

—Octavius Winslow

Loneliness

John on the isle of Patmos

Paul in a prison cell

Hannah in her barrenness

Jeremiah in the well

All saints have stung of loneliness

The depths, to others, unknown

Save the Savior by Father forsaken

For the sake of redeeming His own

—Vicki Baird

From Nowhere to Glory

 On a road bound to nowhere

with pain carried in my heart,

A journey where I compare

and I finish where I start.

On a road bound for anguish

with pride always to the fore,

A journey where I languish

and hope hurries for the door…

On a road bound for glory

with my Jesus there to guide,

A journey of our story

and how shame and grace collide.

On a road filled with meaning

with His Spirit within me,

A journey of His leaning

and where He's, my guarantee

by Dave Mudford © 2024

A Stubborn Lot

Can a penny buy a morsel of some dried unleavened bread?

Can a nickel have some meaning to apologies unsaid?

Can a dime hide a confession that we want to keep inside?

Can a quarter take the place of the regrets when we have lied?

Can a dollar buy a drop of love from someone we have pained?

Can a ten buy us full freedom, though it's we ourselves we've chained?

Can a hundred cover up our sins so we can't be enslaved?

Can a Million pay for all our sins so that we can then be saved?

Can a Billion buy a sliver from the cross where Jesus died?

Can a Trillion buy a seat in Heav'n so we can't be denied?

ALL the money in the world can't buy one SPECK of space

in Heaven where the God of Love bestows sufficient grace.

It's loving dedication and full faithfulness we owe.

Our money is so worthless - yet we idolize it so.

We are a spoiled people in our air conditioned cars.

We're over-entertained by our most fav'rite superstars.

We are a prideful people and we're such a stubborn lot -

but owe to Jesus EVERYTHING and EVERYTHING we've got.

by louis gander © 2022

http://www.ganderpoems.org 

Blessed Homeland

Gliding o'er life's fitful waters,

Heavy surges sometimes roll;

And we sigh for yonder haven,

For the homeland of the soul.

Blessed homeland, ever fair!

Sin can never enter there;

But the soul, to life awaking,

Everlasting bloom shall wear.

Oft we catch a faint reflection,

Of its bright and vernal hills;

And, though distant, how we hail it!

How each heart with rapture thrills!

To our Father, and our Savior,

To the Spirit, Three in One,

We shall sing glad songs of triumph

When our harvest work is done.

'Tis the weary pilgrim's homeland,

Where each throbbing care shall cease,

And our longings and our yearnings,

Like a wave, be hushed to peace.

—Fanny Crosby

The Child Ran Into the Sea

 The child ran into the sea

but ran back from the waves, because

the child did not know the sea

on the horizon, is not the same sea

ravishing the shore.

What every child wants is always

in the distance; like the sea

on the horizon. While, on the shore

nearby, at the feet of every child

shallow water, eating the edges

of islands and continents does little more,

little more than foam like spittle

at the corners of the inarticulate mouth

of some other child who wants to run

into the sea, into the horizon.

- Martin Carter

Better Beauty Beyond

The world with its beauty and charms

Comes to me with wide open arms;

Its pleasures allure to embrace

But will end in pain and disgrace.

There is better beauty beyond

That I will enjoy before long;

The most beautiful and the best

Is the One who gives peace and rest.

—Perry Boardman 

Montage

 England, autumn, dusk –

so different from the quarter-hour

at home when darkness drops:

there’s no flamboyant fireball

laughing a promise to return;

only a muted, lingering farewell,

and day has passed to evening.

I been there, sort of: New and Selected Poems – Mervyn Morris

Behold, I Come

 "Behold, I come"—the darkness lightens

Above all sorrow and all fear;

Beyond the clouds the Daystar brightens,

And our deliverance is near;

The groaning earth awaits the hour

When all the wrongs of time are past,

And clothed with glory and with power,

The King of kings shall reign at last.

—Annie Johnson Flint

A Ballast for My Soul

 Life is like a stormy sea

That tosses to and fro,

But God's Word will ever be

A ballast for my soul;

By its truth I'll be held fast

Till I reach heaven's shore

Where I will be home at last

And sail life's sea no more!

—Perry Boardman