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

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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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

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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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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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

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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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

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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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

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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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

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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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.

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.”

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

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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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.’