Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Are We There Yet? 3-28-12


Vacation! What a pleasure!
To relax, on beaches bask...
but seven blocks away from home,
my backseat driver asked,

Are we there yet?

Vacationing, we drive along -
just spending time together.
It seems that nothing goes our way,
and this time? Rainy weather!

Are we there yet?

Vacation, scenic landscapes.
Now is this all in vain?
Is this, the scenic way the best?
Should we have taken plane?

Are we there yet?

Vacation. What's the purpose -
the drive or destination?
And then distracted with my thoughts,
was handed a citation.

Are we there yet?

Oh, sometimes we are so confused
and so delirious -
living in a world of fun.
Are we too serious?

Are we there yet?

Vacation. Can we live one?
Restoring peace within...
Then broken from my deepest thoughts,
my youngest asks again,

Are we there yet?

So what's our destination
exposed behind each task?
Sweep, do we, sins under rug -
then have the shame to ask,

"Are we there yet?"

Once at our destination,
may judgment not be grave -
when God asks if we've lived for us
or all to Jesus gave...

Are we there yet?

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Tears No Longer 3-20-12


Behind the doors of many homes,
no matter where you go -
a multitude of people weep.
Their tears forever flow...

I sat behind my mommy in
the back seat of our car.
My daddy did the driving, but
we didn't get too far.

My mom and I were talking,
and we were smiling wide,
but someone ran the traffic light
and hit us hard broad-side.

The truck came out of nowhere -
the driver, DUI.
And buckled in her seat belt, mom
had watched my daddy die.

I woke up in a hospital -
in pain for several days.
Our fragile world turned up-side-down
in many, many ways...

"Jesus, heal my broken heart.
I feel emotion's tug,
whenever mommy holds me tight
and gives me daddy's hug.
Embraced below Your sunsets
through visions of the wreck -
I know my mom is crying too.
Her tears run down my neck.

"She says we'll be in Heaven there.
It is her only prayer.
Daddy, mother, also I -
are in Your precious care.
Though she forgives the driver -
forget? She never will.
And though the years are passing by,
our tears are flowing still.

"But please forgive me Jesus -
I can't get on my knees.
Fun and laughter, drugs and beer
is all the world sees.
Is several years of crying worth
some stranger's day of fun?
'They know not what they do' You said.
Our tears forever run.

"You hear all my petitions
My deepest thoughts I share.
Your great omniscient presence
surrounds my wheel chair.
And I am not discouraged.
Through faith in You, I know -
in Heaven, we'll be together -
where tears no longer flow."

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Sunday, March 11, 2012

The Lighthouse 3-11-12



What draws the eye to the lighthouse?
Oh say, what could it be?
Now how could a light on a mighty 'Rock'
forgive lost souls at sea?
There are no ropes to pull them in,
no maps of where to go -
and we hear cries from crashing waves -
under the beacon's glow.

Relentlessly, the wind blows now -
the noise, as a million drum!
The angry sea will swallow scores,
as the weak in faith succumb.
Through rain and hail and deadly fog,
sins weather strangely mixed -
a faint, but 'Guiding Light' shines through -
if eyes are firmly fixed.

The lighthouse sounds its foghorn out,
proclaiming, "Christ is King".
Our voices chime in harmony
as we rejoice and sing!
We find all comfort in the 'Rock'
as the faithful lighthouse calls.
It's then that storms surrender and
receding darkness falls,

What draws the eye to the lighthouse?
Oh say, now what could it be?
How can a Man on an old rugged cross,
help souls still lost at sea?
Secure in the 'Rock', we understand -
as the beacon lights the sky.
And as long as we see the halo -
forgive. "They know not why."

And tell them,
tell them if you dare!
Tell them when they're troubled.
Tell them with a prayer.
Tell them Christ is waiting.
Tell them God is fair.
Tell them Jesus loves them.
Tell them if you care.
Tell them God still loves the world.
Now go, and gospel share.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Thursday, March 8, 2012

Adrift! 3-8-12


The waves were crashing everywhere -
port, starboard, forward, aft...
My troubles kept on pouring in,
upon my humble raft.

The typhoon winds of pain whipped up -
first one way, then the other.
My earthly troubles slashed about -
another and another.

Adrift on troubled waters vast,
but where? I did not know!
And here out on the stormy seas -
there was dark death below.

The shark infested waters there
that I remember still -
snapped temptations fangs at me
and broke my fragile will.

And then on top of everything,
it couldn't get much worse -
when wet, dense fog surrounded me -
my little faith, a curse.

I screamed from my position there,
"Do something! Please... You must!"
My fist shook at the Heavens.
I lacked sufficient trust.

I threw my hands up in the air
and wondered, "What's the use?"
Now isn't this the way life goes?
Then sodden ropes let loose!

The wicked waves tore at the logs.
My raft began to split.
Apart, my hopes had scattered off.
What could I do, but quit?

And then when giving up on life -
I saw - but could it be??
Walking troubled waters there -
my Lord had came toward me!

But my raft finished breaking up.
The waves were just too great...
My groping arms flung out to Him -
but He was just too late...

With remnants of my raft adrift -
this Jesus disappeared!
Out in the fog He vaporized -
a sick mirage, I feared.

The gift of life is special, but -
eternal life much more.
For Jesus was my sacrifice,
and who that cross was for.

Were hope and faith both obsolete
as waves crashed on my back?
Last remnants of my raft dispersed -
and everything went black.

Engulfed by churning breakers then,
my feet touched solid stone...
God's precious love threw me to shore!
I never was alone!

I'm thankful God broke up my raft.
Could I have asked for more?
That raft was really nothing with -
my Jesus on the shore!

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Psalm 23:4
 "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me."

Friday, March 2, 2012

As God Whispers 03-02-12


Don't give me a brand new computer
to type all the words on my mind -
just give me an old scrap of paper
and maybe some words I can find -
to write with my old, stubby pencil,
a poem or two I think of,
to soften the hardest of hardened hearts -
and write a few words of God's love.

And no, I do not have erasures.
I used them up long, long ago -
for mine was the worst of all wicked hearts -
and lowest of all of the low...
I tried to erase every one of my sins,
that I scribbled for years on my heart -
but only a cross where Jesus shed blood
could give me a "born-again" start.

Though I am not better than anyone else
no matter how I have been livin'...
There's only one thing that has set us apart -
and that is, through faith, I'm forgiven.
So please give an old scrap of paper,
to someone contented to be -
writing, as God whispers breezes,
in shade of this old willow tree.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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