Praise where praise is due

I asked Jesus if He’d make me whole,
and He reached out and mended my soul;
I asked Him to help me along,
and He gave me a special song;
I asked Him each day for things so small,
and Jesus said, “Terry, I want you to have it all”.

I cried out, “This me just won’t do“,
And Jesus said, “I’ve made all things new”;
I complained and cried, and cried,
and Jesus said, “For those tears I died”.

I told Him, “I’m tired of being so strong”,
He answered, “I know, I’ve held you up all along”;
I cried deep within my being,
and shuddered at all I was seeing.

Then Jesus told me not to grieve,
to accept His gift, and then believe.
So, I raised His name in song and praise,
and saw His grace light up my days;
I’m truly thankful for what He’s done,
and I’ll strive to keep Him Number One.

A matter of perspective

In search of happiness we find
that happiness lies within our mind.
In search of patience we soon learn,
we cannot watch a candle burn.

And peace is just an elusive dream,
beyond our grasp, so it would seem.
Yet, love, we think we know the best
as that which beats inside our breast.

Its oh so hard to understand
that these all come from the Father’s hand.

Respite

Once more the sun burns to its towering height
Eating away the dark shrouds of night.
Giving vent to the warm rays of light
Illuminating this world so brilliantly bright.
Reflecting off majestic birds in flight,
Representing spectacular universal might.
Erasing all semblance of humanly fright
Allowing to the knowledge of heaven’s delight;
Compared to the universe, its merely a bite
Never changing ~~ not even a mite.
Appearing only to rest sometime at night.
Giving the feeling of being polite
Showing the way of the pilgrim’s plight
Restoring the light that helps our sight.
Giving off the warmth that draws our skin tight
And heals the flowers of cold’s crisp blight.
Yet oft times appears so trite
And eventually shows that all is aright.

Respite

I wrote this a number of years ago, and my son, who was rather young, thought it was neat, and pretty simplistic...so, he started writing his own poems.
I often wonder if he still writes any, or has given up on expressing himself this way.

I thought about you yesterday;
and then, I did it again today.
I thought that lunch would be great;
and then you said, you'd already ate.
I thought then, we'd sit and chat;
and then you said, you're not into that.
I thought of a time, way back when;
and then you said, that was way back then.
I thought about you again today;
but then, maybe its better that way.

Thank You Lord

Thank You, Lord,
for the whispering,
whistling wind
that shows,
and echoes
Your presence
in the shaking
of trees,
the rustling
of leaves,
and the swaying
of blades of grass,
in the fierce
fanning of flames
that lick the sky
in the billowing
of black smoke
and then
clearing the air
and showing through
the glory of the sun
but also
ushering in
the rain clouds
that wash away
the blackness
and death
to reveal, again,
Your healing,
creating presence
as life returns
in the growth
of new trees
and grass
where Your presence
again is felt
in the whispering
whistling wind
that kisses the earth
and touches
all living things
with Your life
and changing power.
Thank You, God
for Your presence.