Make fun of lists? Who’d do a thing like that?
By lists mankind for years has lived and thrived!
And God likes lists! Sons of Jehoshaphat,
Our dos and don’ts, the virtues God has prized.
If God can make much use of lists, then we
Can also, to good effect — certainly!
Unless your mind can always act on cue,
Make a list to know what you should do.
The tongue a blessing? Now there’s a thought!
Let few be teachers — what weighty task!
With dangers and trials the work is fraught —
For wisdom and rein of lip you must ask.
In common have the rich and poor
That God gives life to both;
To hate one’s neighbor saints abhor —
God blesses love and truth.
The crimes of man seem cruel and cold —
except our own, acceptable and reasonable.
We justify without limits — sin
a construct in our agile minds.
Society’s ills are a shame — but we
carry no guilt — we separate
ourselves, with ease, from human blame,
refusing to stand as worst offender —
assuming, brashly, the place of judge.
Look up toward the sky. Who created everything you see? The Lord causes the stars to come out at night one by one. He calls out each one of them by name. His power and strength are great. So none of the stars is missing, Isa 40.26 NIrV.
The universe is larger than we thought —
Three times the stars! The map we bought
Was much too small for such a creative Mind.
Each day more signs of Him we find!
In leper Simon’s house, a woman came
To anoint the Lord, ignoring taunts of shame.
She gladly broke her alabastar jar
To pour on his head perfume that came from afar.
“What waste!” the Savior’s men complained, indignant.
“The poor have need!” They saw her gift a repugnant
Act of useless emotion. But Jesus saw
Her heart of love and the reason for their ire.
She knew he’d pay the heavy debt she owed.
“She poured this oil on my body to prepare
For burial. She can see the Servant’s path,
The pain of the cross, the overwhelming bath.
So leave her alone! In every place the News
Is preached, her deed will be told — she rose
To the occasion — the world will hear her story.
Oh, God, may her brave act be also my glory!
The powers of earth are weak, despite their noise,
Little can they do against the saints;
They cannot make the dead arise from the grave,
Or reach into the Beyond to steal the soul.
They’ve power to kill the body, but that is all —
God alone can destroy, or alone can save.
Success is sure for those whom God anoints;
His mighty arm gives Christians cause to rejoice.
Where, O God, is the man or woman who seeks
your name, who desires above all things the kingdom?
Where walks the faithful heart in full obedience?
Let me be one of these rare souls, with fire
consuming, zeal igniting, working to save
by pointing the way to eternal life in Christ.
Begin with me, O Lord, this very day,
in this place, that I might bear the cross
and in hope of life, bear much fruit that remains.
Be still, my soul, and quiet thy busy mind —
Thy blood is stirred, no space for God to move;
He’d come possess thy cares and care for thee,
But thou must let him, humble and silently.
A birthday calls to mind the growing snowball
Of time, and where it ends, the unknown valley
Of death, so we stop counting years — the clock
Cannot be stopped, so we ignore its sound.