Sunday, December 23, 2012

First In Line? 12-24-12


Can Christmas be a day we change - a day we should distort?
And is the line to Santa long - but line to Jesus short?
We want to be the first in line because who wants to wait?
Who wants to waste their precious time? To this, can we relate?

Yet can it be a selfishness that leads a person where,
the line is much, much longer because Santa's sitting there?
After all, does he not give the many toys away?
Should focus, we, on our desires on this important day?

Though Santa is the one who gives to those who did behave -
is Jesus' line much shorter because He already gave?
Eternal life is only for the humble who believe -
and selfish people aren't content for blessings they receive.

Now God may send us Angels - a youngster may appear -
and ask a simple question that will form a wiser tear.
A tear that's full of living joy, sent down in grace above.
A tear that's rolling down a cheek. A tear born out of love.

Now here's the line to Jesus. Remember, it is fine -
no matter where we are right now - to kneel down first in line.
We may be in the cities or out on country farms -
but children who find Jesus are - already in His arms...

...the greatest gift of all.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Love To Love 12-19-12


It started out as others, when I got dressed today -
ate breakfast with my fam'ly, for that was just our way.
You dropped me off at school.  Your love shone in your eyes.
We hugged and kissed each other.  We said our last "Goodbye's".
As I stepped to the entrance, I turned around once more -
and waved to you one final time - then stepped on through the door.

I saw some other teachers.  They do what teachers do.
They all had smiled, said "hi" to me - and I said "hi" back too.
I soon got to my classroom.  Some other friends were there.
I chatted with my classmates some and then sat in my chair.
Obey the teachers, I was taught.  I followed every rule -
but no one knew that this would be, our final day at school.

Life usually, will glide along - and all goes fairly well -
but those are times we soon forget how close we are to hell.
We soon forget that God is love and hates our every sin -
but selfish man gets what he wants as he is dead within.
Not even one short moment here, should ever pass us by -
where Jesus holds our inner thoughts and we don't question why.

Though God hates sin - do we as much?  For what man wishes, weaves -
his 'wants' to be accepted - until himself deceives.
From smoking, drugs and alcohol or any selfish thing -
there's someone who will pay the price for what these habits bring.
Why is it there are people who will only love to hate.
I pray that others will be saved - before it is too late.

Oh, why do we love other 'gods' including 'killing games'?
Why do we swear, show disrespect, call God [our Father] names?
Why don't we often worship - honor father, mother?
Why are we never faithful - steal, lie and murder?
Why are we very jealous, envious and covet?
Why not confess, repent?  Oh, why will we not do it?

I heard that last announcement.  Today, pure evil flowed.
Now I'm okay.  I'm in HIS arms, because HE loves me so.
I know it's hard to hold back tears from feeling deeply blue -
but I so love you mommy still - and Jesus says so too.
I'm so amazed to see this place you couldn't even dream of -
a place of immense beauty - where we all love to love.

In memory of the 20 children and 6 adults killed
at Sandy Hook School in Newtown, CT

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Sunday, December 16, 2012

Twenty Angels 12-16-12


Pure evil smashed through fragile doors
at lives misunderstood -
fought cowardly in anger -
with twenty Angels, good.

Then hero's lives were sacrificed
as many children hid.
We cannot make the pieces fit -
but twenty Angels did.

So now there's something in my eyes
there's dampness on my cheek -
and I can feel the echo when
those twenty Angels speak.

The question that I struggle with -
is, "Where do Angels go?"
I'm not sure of the answer, but
our twenty Angels know.

In memory of the 20 children and 6 adults killed
at Sandy Hook School in Newtown, CT

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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I'll Not Forget 12-16-12


My little Angel sat in school
to learn her A B C's -
yet no one knows the 'half of it'
to put my mind at ease...

There's something in the way I talk
that seems so different now -
that weighs me down here on my knees
and makes me take this vow:

I'll not forget those days we spent
together - you and me.
I'll not forget our memories
and they will always be.

I'll not forget your sunshine smile,
the freckles on your skin.
I'll not forget your flood of love
that flowed from deep within.

I'll not forget our little games
we played - like 'hide and seek'.
I'll not forget your kisses from
your lips upon my cheek.

I'll not forget those little tears -
those times I saw you weep -
then mixed with mine, ran down my cheek
before you fell asleep.

I'll not forget your final hug
was very, very tight.
I'll not forget your final wave
was such a lovely sight.

I'll not forget your first small step
or your first day at school.
I'll not forget God's wonderment -
my precious little jewel.

I'll not forget your favorite clothes,
or favorite ice cream choice.
I'll not forget your little ears
that heard your teacher's voice.

My little Angel sat in school
to learn her A B C's -
It's God who knows 'the all of it'
that puts my mind at ease...

In memory of the 20 children and 6 adults killed
at Sandy Hook School in Newtown, CT


©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Born Again 12-11-12


Oh, how I thought I knew it all when I was in my youth -
but as I turn in circles now I find an ugly truth -
that time had shut a door on each decision I had made
and now I have to suffer from the high price I have paid.

Now Jesus led me as a youth but I had vainly went
the stubborn way I wanted to. My whole life I had spent -
going my own selfish way through each and every door -
and thinking that each new one was much better than before.

But then I looked around me as the final door slammed shut.
So stunned, I was - completely - as it echoed in my gut.
I walked through each door willingly to get to where I am -
and now my soul is naked as I stand in front of Him.

But then my God allowed me there to reach back with my hand
and open up that final door. I didn't understand...
I stepped back through and found myself where I had been last week -
and then I saw another door so took another peek.

It too, had opened up for me - so I stepped through again -
and there I was two weeks ago right back where I had been.
So on and on I went through doors as fast as I could run -
until I was a child again - then back where I'd begun.

Now this time I will have no pride and this time I won't fight.
I'll follow in His footsteps and I'll follow Him just right.
Now each door that God opens makes us one close happy team -
and everything goes perfect 'til I wake up from my dream.

---

I only had one lonely chance to live an upright way -
but I messed up. I put me here. There is no more to say...
except that Jesus pulls me from my putrid, sinful grime -
and gives me one more final chance to get it right this time.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, December 8, 2012

Nativity Christmas 12-8-12


Does someone call as snowflakes fall
upon my window sill?
There comes a sleigh. The horses neigh,
in spirit of goodwill.

There's not a breeze.  My mind's at ease.
They bid me, "Come" they say.
So I step out.  There is no doubt -
that this is Christmas Day.

I hop aboard and ride on toward -
a town that's splashed with sights.
I look ahead at green and red.
I love those Christmas lights.

The air is crisp. I see a wisp -
on front of horses' mane -
that bounce with pep at every step.
The horses do not wane.

---

Heard sleigh bells chime throughout that time
until I got to town -
And hooves had clopped until they stopped
as I arrived downtown.

Nativity...  I smiled with glee -
heard carols in the air.
The shepherds spied.  The three Magi
saw Jesus sleeping there.

A camel knelt.  In joy they dwelt -
in cushioned stable hay -
A scene on earth of virgin birth -
where one man came to pray.

A poor old man, all wrinkled tan,
was kneeling on the ground.
His hair was messed but he was blessed
as snow fell all around.

Some kids walked through, in contrast to -
his humble situation.
And then they felled the cane he held,
reckless recognition.

God woos each one who seek His Son -
but they paid no attention.
I heard them joke each time they spoke
within their own dimension.

He reached in vain to get his cane.
His countenance was grim -
then heard him say, "wife passed away."
as I gave it to him.

Through eyelids tight, they drew my sight -
I saw more tears come through.
It touched my heart, tore me apart -
so I knelt down there too.

---

Snowflakes falling, Jesus calling -
calling from above.
Can you live it?  Christmas spirit -
wooing all, in love...

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Mark 2:14 (KJV)
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

Monday, December 3, 2012

A Perfect Masterpiece 12-3-12



Peered I, up to the heavens. So stunned, I stood in awe.
His hand swept over East to West and this is what I saw...
A sight exposing every truth, that made me nearly faint.
A sight, that in a million years, no man could ever paint.
A special, brand new masterpiece that God creates each day.
A special, brand new vision that He gives along my way.

I see a vast creation that is pure outside and in
before His work is tarnished by horrendous, evil sin.
He paints His skies so differently. No two are just the same.
He paints the creatures on the earth - the wild and the tame.
The sunsets over mountain peaks are not identical -
and snowflakes falling from the sky?  Not precisely equal...

The clouds are floating freely with the breeze on clear thin air.
Though no two skies are just alike, they share the canvas there.
And no two meadows look the same as I walk down His path.
I see no trees identical when grown through nature's wrath.
Not equal are the mountain streams or creatures of the wild.
And so unique the sunsets are - as faces of a child.

So patiently, a flower bud waits ready to unfurl.
A swirl of brilliant petals bloom.  I see a little girl.
Her whole life laid in front of her that she became forthwith -
another link within the chain this world had yanked her with.
Priorities had dragged her from her work to shopping mall.
And every day, a masterpiece - yet she had missed them all.

Now richly dressed as all the rest who never seemed to care,
she peered inside a cancer ward and saw young children there.
She saw the face of one small boy with cute and chubby cheeks -
and though the tears had dried away she saw the many streaks.
They washed away the happiness in life so short, but giving -
as sin has made the sky to fall on innocent still living.

God waves His hand across the sky, but have I failed to see -
out way beyond my own routine, beyond my vanity?
God paints a perfect masterpiece on each and every child.
I finally saw His masterpiece when that young child smiled.
Peered I, up to the heavens. Through tears, I prayed in awe.
His hand swept over East to West and that is what I saw...

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Tuesday, November 27, 2012

America! 11-27-12


They're Patriots, they're fighting!  But Lord, who understands?
Their gift to heirs was liberty, was fragile in their hands.

A liberty that's priceless and was paid with hero's blood,
 but liberty that's fragile and as latent as a bud.
Some day the waves of grain will grow in nation gold and bright -
 but now the revolution's fight is questioned whether right...

I see a sacrifice so great, from will that never bends,
I see the loss of families, their farms and closest friends.
I see that they were tested greatly under Washington -
and they were tested all the more in battle that was won.

Yes, tested with the seasons that brought hot and cold extremes,
and tested with great trials that had crushed the smallest dreams.
So many lost a limb or two.  Some others met their grave,
but great were all the freedoms that to us they freely gave.

Now we'd enjoy these freedoms, if - we care to really own
and guard with every vote so that our freedoms could be sown -
to later generations that would seize the free baton -
to hold our fragile liberties so freedom carries on.

Years later, I saw clamoring and stumbling unsure -
and one by one God-given rights were trampled here under -
the feet of every voter who demanded more and more -
the money clear from Washington 'til all of us were poor.

They argued, as in protest and they fervently appealed,
to eat up necessary seed for next year's harvest yield -
and voted for more cretins who would place their final bet
on wasteful obligations that would pile up more debt.

Naive we are and so deceived with all the 'pc' spin,
"He'll give you lots more money if you'll simply vote for him!"
They buy our selfish, greedy votes and bribe us all until
elected, they're securely fixed right there up on 'The Hill'.

So arrogant, those cretins are, that they need never hide.
They know their office is secure and wear this thing called 'pride'.
They promise us a silver moon (that's moldy old swiss cheese -
with holes in thick promises that shift there with the breeze).

So powerless we all become when they tie up our hands.
They hasten us and chasten us - yet no one understands..!
There's just no more that we can give, for they have taken all -
in taxes, fines and hidden fees, licenses, et al.

They rushed so quickly to the aid of those too big to fail -
and then ignored the rest of us that they refused to bail.
Collecting campaign contributions from the greedy ones -
they then give them the very last of our few meager funds.

Refusing to repent and out beyond the furthest hope,
I see a country dangling from an unforgiving rope -
from poor results that legalized and drove our morals loose.
I see inflated, selfish heads above a tightened noose.

The feet still kick and wiggle as we take our final breath -
and offer no assurance from a sad and certain death -
because we still refuse the God of patient, certain wrath!
Oh, how can we complain when "we, the people" chose our path?

We've mortgaged off the waves of grain and every native park!
We've mortgaged every standing tree - the branches, trunks and bark!
We've mortgaged off Mount Rushmore and the Lady Liberty -
who shines so very beautiful!  It's pure insanity!!

I see a sacrifice so great - but our 'will' never bends.
We lose our farms and families - we lose our closest friends.
I see we're harshly tested from a Washington DC -
and we'll be tested all the more until our freedoms see...

We're Patriots!  We're fighting!  But Lord, who understands?
Our gift to heirs, true liberty, is fragile in our hands.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Tuesday, November 20, 2012

The Little Elf 11-20-12


Mischievous, the little one -
the selfish, little elf -
the one who looks and listens for
the things which help himself.

Though brilliant colors are defined,
I'm blind and cannot see.
Since birth my world was always dark.
I ask myself, "Why me?"

My doctor says there is no hope.
No music will there be.
My world is quiet.  I can't hear.
I ask myself, "Why me?"

I've worked my fingers to the bone.
I've paid each tax and fee.
But now the banks are taking all.
I ask myself, "Why me?"

My teachers say I'm special.
My friends and all agree.
Then mom tells me to make my bed.
I ask myself, "Why me?"

He fell to knees most fervently -
the place?  Gethsemane.
Though God did not 'remove His cup',
did Jesus ask, "Why me?"

So lazy, greedy, prideful, vain -
oh, how can I complain?
My prayers are simply mockeries
if I know not His pain.

Pain that He endures each time
that I think of myself -
for He's the Master Teacher - and
I'm the little 'elf'...

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Sunday, November 11, 2012

As More Fall 11-11-12


Just count the leaves here, 1-2-3
as more fall from the Maple tree.

Bright colored leaves, for all to see -
as more fall from the Maple tree.

And cooler weather there will be -
as more fall from the Maple tree.

The autumn breezes blow them free
as more fall from the Maple tree.

We jump in piles of leaves, whoopee!!
as more fall from the Maple tree.

We joke a lot, we're filled with glee -
as more fall from the Maple tree.

A blizzard comes. The robins flee
as more fall from the Maple tree.

We'll snowboard and we'll also ski -
as more fall from the Maple tree.

Then lost souls find eternity -
and more fall from the Maple tree.

Futile lives here, 1-2-3 
while more fall from the Maple tree.

Do we serve Jesus faithfully 
and rescue those on Maple tree? 

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Sunday, November 4, 2012

An Old Abandoned Cabin 11-4-12


Nestled in a valley in a clearing of large oak,
while sunlight touched but treetops where the baby robins woke,
stood an old abandoned cabin that had seen some better days,
had once seen better fam'lies and had once seen better ways.
A little stream meandered by with water clean and pure
that seemed to say, "Come drink from me.  Your problems, I will cure."
And sparkled bright, the diamonds that had glistened in the sky,
as did the dew on God's green earth that blessed the patient eye.

Hither, yon the squirrels worked and did what squirrels do.
They shared their ample spacious trees where little finches flew -
where trees wore brilliant yellow, red and golden colored suits
where leaves had wiggled in the breeze among leftover fruits.
But when the sun had cleared the hill and peeked above the trees
exposing all the guilt of man and sin that Heaven sees -
it brought to light the darkness deep inside those timbered wall,
where dust and cobwebs fought a war and won man's mighty fall.

Now just a second, let's step back and tell me how they can -
how tiny little spiders beat the big and mighty man?
Just maybe, man with ego big, was thought too big to fail -
and now the dust and spiderwebs own every board and nail.
That cabin once was filled with 'men', with love and life and health,
but now sits there abandoned and long gone his pride and wealth.
I once knew well the fam'ly who had lived inside those walls
of that abandoned cabin where our Savior's voice still calls.

If mighty man's big head was pulled along with his conceit
from clouds so he'd descend back down and settle on his feet -
then maybe he could still enjoy the cabin in the trees
and persevere through patience with the autumn colored leaves -
that dance above the cabin roof, that seem to taunt en mass -
to each and every one of us until possessions pass -
that man was beaten down by bugs who haven't any clue
that God is still in full control over me and you...

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Thursday, November 1, 2012

Christmas Eyes 11-1-12


My mama was a loving spouse who did her very best
to keep my father happy and she never did protest -
to what my father said and did to add to her abuse -
and all the things I saw him do.  There wasn't an excuse.
My father was a spiteful man who argued quite a lot
and it had hurt my mama so that she became distraught..
I pulled weeds from her garden and I chopped a lot of wood
that heated up our cooking stove.  I helped her all I could.
As we prepared for Christmas Day and all that was in store,
enjoyed, I did, those special times with mama even more.
Yes, more than any other month could ever even boast,
December was that special time that we enjoyed the most.

One cold December morning came when father went to find,
a full and perfect Norway Spruce.  (I tagged along behind).
The woods were vast.  There must have been a million evergreen
which held a billion snowflakes out in sparkling winter scene.
Reflective sunlight shimmered bright which made my eyelids squint
so I looked down and found that all my footsteps made a print -
in snow so fun to walk through as it crushed beneath my feet -
(although at times the drifts caused me to detour or retreat).
That made me pause and catch a glimpse of smoke from fireplace
meandering above our house so wanting to embrace -
a family fraught with nervous fears and silent times 'to boot' -
as father, with his ego big, had muffled mama mute.

But fragrance from the many pine had found my little nose -
and tiny snowflakes glistened while they settled on our clothes -
reminding me that all is well despite my parents quarrels
and I could choose a better life with character and morals -
to live a life, not crooked, as we trekked from place to place -
to find that perfect tree to decorate our living space.
We trampled each direction and at last he gave a sigh.
We finally found that perfect spruce - my father, saw and I.
The night was strangely silent as we sat around our tree
when mom's love and compassion had been proven true to me.
Out through the corner of my eye, I viewed dejected years -
and though she tried to hold them back, I saw her lonely tears.

Throughout that night the light escaped reflecting off the floor,
and whispered prayers were carried out from underneath her door...
But light no longer flickers from the candles flaming tips
and silenced too, are verses that I heard from mama's lips.
I know that father long regrets his former wicked ways -
but through my tears, I won't forget those special Christmas days
with scenes of the Nativity and tree exactly right,
with memories of mama and the truth that came to light.
Yes, this was many years ago that father and I spied -
then cut that perfect Norway Spruce the day before she died.
I heard his weeping through the door - such deep, repentant cries -
but now he sees as mama did... through humble Christmas eyes.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Romans 10 (NASB)
8 But what does it say? “The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart”
—that is, the word of faith which we are preaching,
9 that if you confess with your mouth Jesus as Lord,
and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved;
10 for with the heart a person believes, resulting in righteousness,
and with the mouth he confesses, resulting in salvation.
11 For the Scripture says, “Whoever believes in Him will not be disappointed.”
12 For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek;
for the same Lord is Lord of all, abounding in riches for all who call on Him;
13 for “Whoever will call on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Christian Poets 10-30-12


We love, remember, reminisce -
God's Christian poets who we miss...
but will, in Heaven, together be,
to praise again in poetry~!

2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Thursday, October 25, 2012

His Work 10-25-12


He laid a sheet of paper down
upon a table top -
and from his chair he wrote and wrote
so faithfully, non-stop.

They laughed at him and bragged about
the works that they had done.
They filled vast reams of papers, yet -
he had but only one.

They boasted of their many works
their fancy hands exposed.
Great works in rich calligraphy
were pridefully disclosed.

Again they stood around and laughed,
but never did he gloat.
They laughed and scoffed and scoffed and laughed
at everything he wrote..

His life was written on one page -
but what? I didn't know.
The paper he had laying there
was white as driven snow.

Sorrow filled his teary face.
This world fatigued his soul.
The agony that he endured
had taken quite a toll.

I saw that many people judged,
made fun of and demeaned,
ridiculed and criticized
his lack of works they'd seen.

Yet faithfully, he wrote much more.
Were no works written there?
Still blank, his paper had appeared.
I thought it quite unfair.

Unfair that he was working hard
on words that wouldn't be.
Unfair that he was judged by those
on work they couldn't see.

Sometimes we think life's all in vain -
those things we do for God -
but He knows every one of us
and how, through life, we've trod.

It's not the works that we can see
that's valued on our page -
but rather what was done in love
that God will one day gauge.

So why was it completely blank?
Confused, I stopped to think -
but then I learned his work was penned
with tears instead of ink.

Yes, God knows our compassion.
So ponder this, it's true:
God floods His grace upon His world,
gets faithfulness from few.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Where Are You Lord? 10-24-12


I searched and searched but couldn't find -
along still waters I was blind.
I was confused, I was dismayed
until I stopped, until I prayed...

Where are You Lord?

Soften my selfish eyes that stray
that I might see a better way -
so I can find You.

Where are You Lord?

Soften my selfish ears of choice
that I might hear Your still, small voice -
so I can find You.

Where are You Lord?

Soften my selfish hands that wring
that can't hold firm to Your blessing -
so I can find You.

Where are You Lord?

Soften my straight and prideful nose
that I won't judge and won't suppose -
so I can find You.

Where are You Lord?

Soften my foolish, selfish words
so I'll enjoy Your singing birds -
so I can find You.

Where are You Lord?

Soften me as a potter would
who'll mold me into what I should -
so I can find You.

Where are You Lord?

Soften me with a discipline
that I might stop, turn, then begin -
so I can find You.

Where are You Lord?

Soften my selfish heart so I
might feel the hurt, the faintest cry -
so I can find You.

Where are You Lord?

Were still waters meant to be?
Although I searched, I couldn't see.
Yet there behind me all the way
was Jesus.  Then I heard Him say,

"I am in all
nature, beauty and goodness,
power, supremacy and holiness,
wrath, sovereignty and greatness,
mercy, compassion and fairness,
grace, knowledge and boldness,
respect, teaching and kindness,
love, patience and faithfulness,
loyalty, giving and happiness,
peace, joy and gladness".

I had searched, but couldn't see -
and I was at a loss -
until I stopped and He found me -
from high upon a cross.

So now it is
I follow Him -
in hands that are the Potter's -
faithfully and steadfast,
with endurance and perseverance,
along His peaceful waters.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Sunday, October 14, 2012

Washed Away 10-14-12


Do our hearts ache when swift waves break
and wash up sandy beach
or do the waves sing, "Jesus saves!"
when up on beaches reach?
Does 'make life fair' entwine our prayer
though time cannot reverse?
His divine force would change our course
for better - not for worse.

Our free-will stalk will alter walk.
We travel where we will.
Through other lands or beach head sands,
we'll traverse on until -
our final stride meets where we died
and breath no longer flows -
and final prints expose all hints.
...for that is how life goes.

As I looked back, my lifelong track -
I was so much dismayed.
I persevered - but disappeared
those tracks in life I made.
My earthly talk was not all walk.
Again I look around.
With seashore grim, so stunned I am.
My prints cannot be found.

All lost one day and washed away -
a life I lived in haste -
and purpose quashed when prints were washed,
away - ohhh, what a waste!
I don't succumb, but ponder some -
now when I bow to pray.
And so it was, His waves, because
He washed my sins away!

Divine, His grace, hung in my place
when Jesus died instead.
With sins forgiv'n, I bound for Heav'n.
My earthly work is dead.
Let heart not ache, when waves should break
to smooth out wicked beach -
but follow yon His footsteps on,
'til destination reach.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Sunday, September 23, 2012

Prayer of Thanksgiving 9-23-12


This table, set with centerpiece,
fine china, silverware -
has food prepared deliciously
with tender loving care.
With hungry eye, I relish this -
this meal, my daily bread -
then fold my hands and bow my head
before my prayer is said.

I do recite it quick and slurred,
though with the best intent -
and now that grace is said and heard,
it is a blessed event.
The phrases I was taught to say
were pressed down deep in me -
but words are empty without thoughts
of pure sincerity.

Yes, just before I eat, I pray,
but there's a place so crude
which moves me closer to the truth -
that others have no food.
It haunts me as I look around, the
visions of the starved -
who wide-eyed blankly stare at me
behind my turkey, carved.

I see their bloated tummies and
the flies around their eyes.
I hear soft moans from babies lips,
and echoes of their cries.
I taste the mush that they call food.
It lingers on my breath.
I feel the tears start down my cheeks.
I smell the stench of death.

I hesitate with my first bite,
then ask myself, "Do I
really care they're teary eyed
and hungry 'til they die?"
I pray that all the "least of these"
are eating well in Heav'n.
Please help me Lord, to understand
the blessings I was giv'n.

So now when I recite my prayer,
as I sit down to feast,
I ask myself if I'm sincere
and thankful in the least.
For that's when I can hear my voice
ascending to His ear.
He knows if I speak empty words
or if I am sincere.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Friday, September 21, 2012

See Me Through 9-21-12


I'm ragged and I'm hungry.
My needs I can't afford.
My debts are huge and piling up.
Please lift me through it Lord.

I've served my country, served it well,
I've fought the gun and sword.
Though I survived, it's difficult -
please help me through it Lord.

An accident has left me lame,
I cannot be restored -
'cept through a gracious miracle.
Please walk me through it Lord.

I've lost my dear and loving spouse,
and I'm so lonely, bored.
Please speak to me with scripture now
and hold me through it Lord.

I was so blind in all my sin.
Your grace I had ignored.
Now through Your love and sacrifice,
please save me through it Lord.

Finally on my deathbed, I'm
about to get on-board -
a ship that takes me there to You.
Please see me through it Lord.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Beautiful 9-11-12


As vivid as a sunlight's ray atop each sturdy stem,
those bright and yellow flowers.  Could anyone condemn?
And others as the bluest sky in deep and vivid hue -
Now who could find more beauty in that panoramic view?

In eyes of the beholders,  conclusions are foregone,
but they're like sin down in your heart when scattered on your lawn.
The dandelion and chicory are pesky little weeds.
You might think they are beautiful, but kill those nasty seeds...

And this is how deceptive sins, work down inside the head.
As pretty as a flower's bloom - but ugly so, instead.
Now faithfulness in God alone prevents sin's every trace -
and every kind of sinful weed ...through everlasting grace.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, September 8, 2012

Good Intentions 9-8-12


Our beautiful intentions come when things are not at peace.
Those good intentions carry us.  We like that duties cease.
But beautiful intentions bring us nothing but insults,
to all the great performing tasks that bring about results.

Do thoughts of great intentions come in plans so very swirled
that bind us up as hostages in this old wicked world?
Intentions are the greatest but am I still drawn to sin,
when actions are but only thoughts and work need not begin?

Despite intentions beautiful, We've now begun to hate
these lands of vast utopia on clouds that dissipate.
Our dreams come crashing down when we're deceived that weather's fair.
Foundation's can't be only poured on well intentioned prayer.

What if Christ had good intentions that were not applied
and He had stayed up there in Heav'n and wasn't crucified?
But God has never, never failed and He waits for us still.
Our good intentions won't bring change ...but faithfulness sure will!

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Galatians 5:22,23 (NASB)
22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,
23 gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.

Monday, September 3, 2012

September Harvest 9-3-12


After the blizzards and after the drifts,
after the snowbanks and temperature shifts...
After the blossoms from light colored buds,
after the rainstorms and after the floods...
After the heat from the high summer sun,
after the grain that is ripe for autumn...
come September harvest.

When old farmer Elmer is out on his field,
reaping the harvest with plenteous yield,
reminding me fully of lost, lonely souls,
that we need to harvest from Satan's controls.
To he who repents and to he who believes,
to all who accept Him, to all of the sheaves...
come September harvest.

The harvest is plenty with laborers few
but these are the souls that we need to get to.
If we love our neighbors as we ourselves love -
(you must know by now what I'm speaking of...)
For though this big world is in stark opposition,
we recommit fully for this great commission...
come September harvest.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 28:16-20 (NASB)
The Great Commission
16 But the eleven disciples proceeded to Galilee, to the mountain which Jesus had designated.
17 When they saw Him, they worshiped Him; but some were doubtful.
18 And Jesus came up and spoke to them, saying,
“All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth.
19 Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations,
baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit,
20 teaching them to observe all that I commanded you;
and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Zombies 8-19-12


Banana pudding, apple pie,
who wants to leave this place -
with all their friends and family
and each familiar face?

Who wants to leave these comforts now
and change their status quo?
If comforts want no changes, there's
no other place to go...

unless through faith we so believe
in Someone who is more,
in Someone who has paid the price
in Someone to live for.

But woe is he, though wealthy be
if faith is naught, when dies -
for faith is the prerequisite
for life beyond the skies.

And God speaks not through megaphone
nor through a king or queen,
but rather through our faithfulness
from Heavens yet unseen.

A still, small voice will call our names.
Be ready to go home -
for faith knows our direction but
those zombies always roam.

If claim, you are, a zombie not,
 who wanders aimlessly,
 then follow quick that still, small voice
and Heaven you will see.

And if you're not a zombie
but follow God's own Son,
 then love your neighbor as yourself,
attest to everyone.

And if you're not a zombie,
just following the crowd,
then clap your hands and stomp your feet
and praise your Lord out loud!!

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Exodus 14:3
For Pharaoh will say of the sons of Israel, ‘They are wandering aimlessly in the land; the wilderness has shut them in.’

Monday, August 13, 2012

These Humble Words 8-13-12


My Lord and Savior, hear my heart -
a heart that can't ignore,
Your love that chased me all my life
and proved to be much more...

much more than rain drops from above
that fall from all around,
collecting in the ponds and lakes
and oceans that abound,

much more than luscious meadows, green
where horses romp and play
much more than cool, clear bubbling brooks
where little ponies lay,

much more than all the honey found
from bees that roam the hive,
much more than flowers from the plant
with petals bright, alive,

much more than colors on the trees
in autumn's many hue,
of golden yellow, red and orange -
much more than rainbows too.

much more than all the mountain peaks
that touch vast skies of blue
much more than questions I have asked
in prayers I've sent to You,

much more than countless blessings from
Your miracles galore.
Much more than all my faithfulness.
But yet, You send me more,

much more love that I waste on
such silly, selfish stuff.
Yet still, You send me greater love.
I can't love You enough.

Now may these humble words be passed
to everyone You touch,
so they, too, will have hearts to say,
"I love You very much."

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Deuteronomy 6:5
New American Standard Bible (NASB)
5 You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.

Friday, August 10, 2012

Dusk To Dawn 8-10-12


Why at dusk, did Your sunlight set, to overwhelm the blue -
and how did I miss, with sunlight's fade, our dimming friendship too?

Why did the grasses so appear 'greener on the other side'
and how did You seem so far away - beyond such deserts wide?

Why did I always rivers ride, with every twist and bend -
and how was it all futility with needs that never end?

Why did I run my selfish way and how did I cut my path -
right over the worst terrain I found, only to find Your wrath?

Why did Your roses lose their scent and how'd our friendship wilt -
and how, when with repentance here, did truth exacerbate guilt?

Why did I seek man's wisdom when, my stomach grew to yearn
then question straight and narrow path that lost all chance to learn?

Why did my heart seem hardened so and how'd I grow so old -
waiting for all Your answers here in this frigid midnight cold?

Why did the chills surround me so and shiver my every bone
and how did Your stars stare down at me and make me feel alone?

How did the darkness blanket me though moon and stars shone bright
to seemingly mock my presence here?  It didn't seem quite right...

No longer will I cut my path nor crawl through desert sand.
I'll walk along still waters here, beside You, hand in hand.

It's easy to say 'Forgive me', but hard to be sincere,
still harder to walk the narrow, then harder to persevere.

But peering to the Heavens now and awed by what I see -
I'm so content in knowing that, You're right down here with me.

I know Your love, Your faithfulness, Your brilliant haloed face -
and faith reveals that dawn has come with morning sun, Your grace.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Monday, August 6, 2012

Everlasting Tears 8-6-12


With sadness in His furrowed face,
with sorrow in His eyes,
with stench of blood and streaming sweat
with death heard in His cries -
could we not tell, when grimaced He,
in pain we couldn't hear,
in anguish so, He couldn't hold
that first initial tear?

From One so pure and innocent,
from One who suffered loss,
was One who sacrificed for us
on such a wicked cross,
where one tear found an opening,
accompanied by more -
to open up the floodgates there,
as never seen before.

But were the tears that Jesus shed
from just the pain He bore?
Or were the tears that soaked His face
from something even more?
They were not tears of happiness,
or stirred up tears of joy.
They were not tears of anger's rage
or tears that would destroy.

His tears were mixed with sweat and blood
that poured down from His face,
then dripped upon His heaving chest
and quickened to a place -
a place where burdens rested,
a place so torn apart,
but place sincere and sacred too -
His heavy laden heart.

A mother knows the pain of love
when children disobey.
She'll cry for hours, days and weeks.
There is no other way -
no other way to share her tears
than blend them in a prayer,
and send them up to Jesus where,
they mix with His tears there.

So take a look at Jesus' tears
and do they not comprise,
of grace and vast eternal love
just like a mother's eyes?
Produce a single tear, can I,
acknowledging my years,
that Jesus sacrificed for me,
in everlasting tears?

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Sunday, August 5, 2012

Understand? 8-5-12


Just seek ye- and ye shall find!
Each word here is important -
So stay on top your toes! 
Unless you're wide awake, you'll lose -
So let's see how this goes.
Let's just play a little game
Of, let's see.... "Hide and Seek".
Very soon you'll see it clear,
Emerging with a peek.
So if ye seek God's kingdom,
You'll find His loving hand.
(Only read first letters in each line.  You'll
Understand).

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 6 (KJV)
33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness;
and all these things shall be added unto you.

Friday, August 3, 2012

From Where I Sit 8-3-12


Up on the high majestic hill,
stands one great mighty oak,
that seems to mimic something else -
a world of prideful folk.
Some think that sin is not so bad,
they think it's overblown -
but I can feel that screaming wind
from Satan's megaphone.

Oh, we all know man's clanging wars -
his taxed and tortured slaves -
his used, abused or beaten spouse -
the sinful life he paves -
that plows up God's great symphony
with Adam's clumsy ox -
and pummels us with angry words
or painful, sinful rocks.

But God's created orchestra -
all people, black and white -
all babies born (or soon to be)
and elders have a right -
a right to live on God's great earth
in peace and harmony.
But pride seeks greater powers and
rejects humility.

From where I sit, I always see
His beauty deep within,
His loving, graceful handiwork -
though plundered so, with sin.
God's handiwork from birds to fish
and mammals great and small -
still bless me with their beauty here.
I see His work in all.

And when I think my Loving God,
has nothing more to give -
He pours out love in greater grace,
so ready to forgive -
where even I, through heavy heart,
so tearfully repent -
and seek that perfect sacrifice,
who God already sent.

A rhythm rolls with springtime breeze
across this valley pass -
right over meadow here below
and through His humble grass.
In unison, harmonic notes
from orchestra below -
still wave to those on mighty hill,
to folks who need to know...

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Tuesday, July 24, 2012

My Precious Time 7-24-12

(from a woman's perspective )

So handsome is my smiling man.
I find him quite a guy.
The months and years begin to roll
as precious time slips by...

I try to build that perfect life.
No matter how I try,
I learn this is no perfect world
as precious time slips by...

So beautiful, the Heavens are,
that share the starry sky.
I search for many answers there
as precious time slips by...

But winds contour the heated sands.
My words grow faint and dry.
The sand runs through my fingers too
as precious time slips by...

And frigid is the northwest front.
My tears freeze when I cry.
It finds me blind and unprepared
as precious time slips by...

So wonderful, that smiling man -
but years, we could not buy.
Though handsome as the day we met,
our precious time slipped by...

And now my loved one passed away.
Through tears I say, "Good bye"
but cling to pride and humble not,
as precious time slips by...

Yet patiently, my Lord still knocks.
His love, the reason why.
Will I ignore or answer Him?
My precious time slips by...

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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