Depressions' Book 3-20-07

Are you feeling really cheery -

just like the men of old?

Or are you filled with sin's debris?

Just how's your story told?

Who writes the story of your life?

Who maps your many miles?

Who slashed your insides with a knife?

Who brings you down with trials?

It's always someone else's fault -

It's never ours to claim.

So go on curse - and then assault.

Your friends must be to blame....

Your life is in such disarray.

At times you're feeling blue.

Because you chose your selfish way,

blame must be placed on you.

With deep despair and sinful strife,

your insides churn and burn.

Is that the story of your life -

and you've no place to turn?

So many think they know it all,

they answer every whim.

But those who conquer big and small

have put their faith in Him.

Your whole life's story, who will write?

Who'll map your many miles?

Give God your pen, it's quite alright -

He'll bring you many smiles....

Several people read your book,

each day more print occurs -

so do you know the path you took?

Was roadway, His or yours?

It's your story, it's disclosed,

and every day it's read -

but when God flips the cover closed,

you'll be completely dead.

©2007 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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What's so special? 3-08-07

What's so special about a tree, without bright flowering buds to see?

What if it reached up to the sky - but imparted no beauty to the eye?

What's so special about a tree, without small birds chirping songs for me?

What if it had no living cells - nor rendered scents of unique smells?

What's so special about a tree, without any roots? Is that not key?

What if it had a trunk so tall - but yielded no juicy fruit each fall?

What's so special about a tree, that stands there dead for all to see?

What if the sunshine took its aim, but the shadow proved its simple frame?

What's so special about a tree, without ornaments' glistening spree?

What if it had no tinsel gold - and stood unparalleled, barren, cold?

What's so special about a tree, that held a life and saw it flee?

What if it held no life down in - but yet it held through thick and thin?

What's so special about a tree, that held One captive for you and me?

What if it charged the highest price - for the only, perfect sacrifice?

What's so special about a tree - so long ago lost? Say, what could it be?

Everything! For it had given - Jesus the place, where all sins were forgiven.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Grandma 2-12-07

Grownups seem so funny. They never seem to change.
‘Specially my ol’ grandma. She always acted strange.
Peculiar smells escaped out when she opened up her door.
And as I stepped into her house - heard creaking in the floor.

She seemed a bit hunched over. She wasn't very thin.
Her teeth would sometimes chatter when she moved her double chin.
She decorated very nice. A corner held the broom.
She'd have her nylon stockings hangin' ‘round the living room....

But God made grandma special. Her cooking, Heaven sent.
She hadn't much to offer but she really was content.
And she was always cooking with her hair back in a bun.
She always had her apron on – had little time for fun.

Sometimes I got in trouble taking cookies from her jar....
The crumbs would seem to mark my sin. I didn't get too far.
One day we had a party. She cried when she was glad.
She cried when she was happy too and cried when she was sad.

Once she claimed I was in sin. I asked her what she meant,
So she opened up her Bible and read a whole event.
I had so many questions that she took me by the hand,
She had so many answers that I couldn't understand.

She said God loved so deeply and - death held the only key,
So back behind the bloodstains Jesus had to die for me.
Maybe sin is so disgusting that - love has to be unfair,
And maybe that's why grandma cried - when she knelt down in prayer.

When I got hurt, she kissed it well. She was the "best-est" nurse,
Then she said, "Be careful" quoting yet another verse.
She often looked so busy. She sometimes looked quite weak;
But when I left, she always had the time to kiss my cheek.

I miss my grandma very much. She died some time ago.
But when she spoke of Jesus, oh, her face was all aglow.
Now when I close my eyes I see that same familiar face,
Reminding me of Jesus and God's everlasting grace.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Works 2-11-07

.
I'm so weary I can't stand
to fight it anymore.
My face - I bury in my hands.
I fall flat on the floor.

All truthfulness is in Your court.
My arguments all fail.
I work hard but fall so short -
touching your Holy Grail.

I worked my fingers to the bone.
You did not grant my wish.
And without water on flat stones,
I flop just like a fish.

I tried to earn it, sun to sun.
My tasks would not apply.
A tear, from every job I'd done,
I caused there in Your eye.

Tasks that came I did not shun.
In fact, I didn't brag,
but every work that I had done -
was but a filthy rag.

Sometimes I thought I felt that crown,
and pulled myself way up,
but as I looked, I had to frown,
I could not hold Your cup.

I fasted, sacrificed some more,
and lay in massive pain.
My clothes I tore. I lost the war,
my works were all in vain.

So now I weep, fall on my face
in desperation, misery....
and on the ground I take my place
and cry my prayer to thee....

"Our Father who art in Heaven,
God of grace and mercy,
You knew this soul was lost back when,
I fell so far from thee....

Your love melts the coldest ice,
You're always in control.
You sent the perfect sacrifice
so save this poor lambs soul.

Dear Shepherd, You are very strong.
Help me - I'm am weak.
For years I've been so very wrong.
I'm humbled. Hear me speak....

Forgive me Lord, for thinking I
could work my way to You.
You knew back then - I couldn't buy,
the work You came to do.

My sins, my work will not erase.
My life, I cannot gloss.
And all my work will not replace,
Your grace there on the cross."

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
ganderpoems.org

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OUR TRUE NEED 2-10-07

.

We don't need a job or new tires for the car.

We don't need vacations to travel afar....

We don't need more money, power, or fame.

And we don't need to know who won what game.

We don't need a furnace to heat our new houses.

We don't need a diamond to buy our spouses.

We don't need potatoes, gravy and meat.

And we do not need to go out to eat.

We don't need more presents for under the tree.

We don't need to "buy one and get one free".

We don't need to rake all the leaves from our yards.

And we don't need more charges on credit cards.

You might think this poem a little bit odd,

But what we do need - is more faith in God.

Put it all in perspective, no need to discuss....

We need more of Jesus - and a lot less of us.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Hand In Hand 2-4-07

Grace and Faith go hand in hand,
As a button bound by thread;
As hands create a handshake,
Or a man and woman wed.

Grace is mercy. Grace is love.
It's why He came to die.
Grace descends to even me
It's something I can't buy.

Faith, my shield that leads me on,
Is essential to possess;
To extinguish all the arrows,
to go forth and profess.

Faith is what I need to have,
Grace is what He's done;
They're not works by any means
But truths I cannot shun.

By Grace He reaches down to me,
Through Faith I understand;
He leads me by still waters,
As we walk hand in hand….

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

Ephesians 2:8 (NASB) “For by grace you have been saved through faith...”

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Follow Me 1-29-07

I stood out on a sandy beach - waves crashing on the shore,
I wondered why I was alone. The waves hit with a roar,
I knew the fish kept close in schools, way out there in the sea -
and then I heard a still small voice, "Have faith, and you will see..."

I wandered by our big, old oak. Its branches, breezes sway.
I wondered why I was alone. I heard birds chirp away.
I knew that birds stayed closely by, protected in that tree -
and then I heard a still small voice, "Have faith, and you will see..."

I sat there by my window – heard noises that were made..
I wondered why I was alone as all the children played.
I knew that children in their way, stayed close and played so free -
and then I heard a still small voice, "Have faith, and you will see..."

My teary eyes were buried in my favorite chair, so soft.
I wondered why I was alone as prayers floated aloft.
I prayed. My trembling hands clasp tight - was blind, it couldn't be -
and then I heard a still small voice, "Have faith, and you will see..."

I waited for an answer but my patience had run out.
I wondered why I was alone. Proof verified all doubt.
Jesus, just before the cross, was denied His final plea -
again, I heard that still small voice, "Have faith, and you will see..."

I'm gone, but not so much alone. I'm here with Heaven's King.
Our Savior sits beside Him! Can you hear the angels sing?
My hands I hold up, way up high! Heaven's riches I now see!
So listen to His still small voice, "Have faith, come follow me."

©2007 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Psalm 23:4 (KJ) “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

Rev. 2:10 (KJ) “Fear none of those things which thou shalt suffer: behold, the devil shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried; and ye shall have tribulation ten days: be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life."

Our Crossroad 1-28-07

I'm always at a crossroad. Decisions make it so.
My head spins in circles but - I choose which way I go.
The world flies past every day. They race both to and fro.
They seem to know just what they want, but do they really know?

They push, and shove, and like a bull - they charge with all their hate,
-Struggling on mountains - and in valleys under weight.
Then they pull around sharp corners - their rocky burdens great.
They lie, steal and murder - but to that I can't relate.

Many times it's their entire fault. The edge they like to skirt.
They lean way out but want to be - protected from all hurt.
At times they work through dinner but their work still tastes like dirt,
And when it comes to getting paid, demand their full dessert.

Each road leads to other burdens as all had led to Rome.
Ways deceive with wealth and pleasure. Through deserts some will comb.
But no matter which way they turn, we know they'll always roam.
And carrying their burdens on - they'll never find their home.

Some don't find an answer so - decisions they won't make,
Yet doing nothing is but a - decision of mistake.
They cannot sleep through heartache and - they cannot take a break,
For each and every morning problems greet when they awake.

Once I crawled inside of me, collapsing in my skin,
Yet couldn't push the world out as I crawled back deep within.
The answers not inside of us, so now we must begin,
For what is our direction when our pity draws us in?

All three hundred sixty degrees, our decisions are no joke.
From our hub of life we see and test our every spoke.
Although the way is not so clear because of lies and smoke,
There’s One who will cut through it all. He does for honest folk.

We must pray and then step up to face our flaming arrow.
He leads us by still waters as we walk the straight and narrow.
I look down on one side - to streams of pain and sorrow.
Way up the other, burdens' rocks - yet He protects the sparrow.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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In His Sandals 1-20-07

I cannot serve two masters. I serve, but only one,

for if I love some sinfulness, I hate God's only Son.

Could I walk in His sandals? Do I really understand?

Of what would it encompass? Of what would it demand?

Could I put up with some abuse, and could I humbly be,

a whipping board of insults, for all to scoff at me?

Could I withstand a whipping? Tell me, would I know,

the pain down in my open wounds, torn flesh from every blow?

Could I, but bear the privilege - to be a king renowned,

my face stained in bloody streaks from such a thorny crown?

And would I know the cost of love, our God's most precious grace,

or would I simply think of me and hate the human race?

Could I endure the anguish then, as ropes bind hands and feet,

so knotted up so tightly that - I'd give in to defeat?

There on my back, could I stare at - a spike set on my skin,

then watch them take a heavy stone and slam it deep within?

Oh, I would know what's coming next.  I'd clench my other fist.

Could I endure another nail- or would I just resist?

Then tortured even further, could pain be so complete,

when to the cross I'm nailed with- another through my feet?

Slowly ropes raise cross and I. The base slides in the hole.

Then in ghastly, horrid pain, would that jerk shake my soul?

So there I'd hang, alone up high- for all to mock and hate.

Could I endure the anguish then? Can I, to that relate?

Could I survive for several hours in pain and endless shame -

and would I ask forgiveness for the ones that I could blame?

And could I die for ALL the world- their sinful sacrifice -

and know that few would love me? Would that, for me, suffice?

And would my final miracle then call for heavenly hosts -

or would I yield to Father's will and then give up the ghost?

No, hate and anger would not end.  The sword would pierce my side....

Oh, would I slip away and hide? Which way would I decide?

His sandals are too large to fill. His time, so long ago,

and Heaven- much too far away, while I'm down here below.

But could I wear His sandals- if I was called upon,

and are my trials greater that- I'd gladly put His on?

He demands my little faith. He holds no speck of wrath,

when He's a lamp unto my feet- a light unto my path.

Yes, I wear His sandals- for I've been called upon

and faithful every morning now, I slip them boldly on.

This poem may explain it- but who really understands?

For every sin that we commit puts nails through Jesus' hands.

We cannot serve two masters. We serve, but only one.

We have to hate all sinfulness, to love God's only Son.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

Luke 16:10 (NASB)
"He who is faithful in a very little thing is faithful also in much;
and he who is unrighteous in a very little thing is unrighteous also in much.”

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Grace 1-18-07

Faults have consequence - always entwine.
My faults are many. My sins all mine.
If I could forget. But I know not how
and failures still haunt me, even now.

Always stalking, collecting many,
the burdens I bear - they are aplenty.
Even one burden that's heavy and great,
crushes me totally under its weight.

What have I done? And what is the cure?
My guilt is too heavy. I cannot endure....
I could change it - make it all disappear-
if I could relive each wayward year.

I cannot go back, but if i could,
would my new actions be perfectly good?
I guess I know that this miserable soul
could not relive it, to make me whole.

I'm all torn apart - from limb to limb.
My hope is but gone, my life bleak and grim.
My head is spinning. Emotions are tossed.
Oh, woe am I – I am totally lost!

If the world could smell my putrid old blood,
they would drag my body through all the mud.
And If I was judged by truth and jury,
they'd hang me quick in their own fury.

And if the judge was fair, cold and just,
was shown my failures - rot, odor and rust;
he'd throw the whole world of death down at me,
and hang me high from the tallest tree.

I'd be happy and sure would not run-
if I could wish it completely undone!
But I cannot change a single thing,
I must sacrifice. I will now bring-

all my possessions, all my good stuff,
my house, my car, my job... is that enough?
Take my wealth, put it all under key.
Is that not enough? Please just agree.

No, even that is so insufficient,
for I am so lost - ugly, deficient;
No work I can do, will fix up my past,
nor heal one scar of failures sharp blast.

Really, the answer is not mine to give,
I can't change history. I cannot relive....
Please! My burden, could someone now lift?
It would be the greatest, most special gift!

Who could love so much - to take such a loss,
and die Himself - on a rugged old cross?
The answer was gifted from one loving face-
from God's act of mercy and glorious grace.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Romans 11:6 (NASB) “But if it is by grace, it is no longer on the basis of works, otherwise grace is no longer grace.