Archive for category God

On His Blindness

blindness, patience, waitingWhen I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg’d with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
“Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?”I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: “God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o’er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.” ~  John Milton

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The Inner Garden

inner gardenThere is an inner garden
Unseen but not unknown
Watered with our worship
Our God calls it His home
He longs for us to meet Him
There in prayer each day
In stillness and in silence
To listen to His ways
He waits for us each morning
Inviting us to bring
Our wonders and our worries,
Every little thing
He takes our needs in hand
And as we linger there
We start to see that He
Is greater than our cares
Tended, gardens grow
Neglected, gardens fail
With time, faith will flourish
With absence, love grows pale
So cultivate this garden
Rest with God alone
Come near and hear His heartbeat
His Presence is our home. ~ Alicia Britt Chole

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God’s Minute

1039778_10202893338239621_938852808_oI’ve only just a minute,
Only sixty seconds in it.
Forced upon me, can’t refuse it,
Didn’t seek it, didn’t choose it,
But it’s up to me to use it.
I must suffer it I lose it,
Give an account if I abuse it,
Just a tiny little minute,
But eternity is in it. ~ Dr. Benjamin Mays

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If God Should Go on Strike

God, Poetry“How good it is that God above has never gone on strike.
because he was not treated fair in things he didn’t like,
If only once he’d given up and said, “That’s it, I’m through!”
I’ve had enough of those on earth, so this is what I’ll do.
I’ll give my orders to the sun-cut off the heat supply!
And to the moon-give no more light, and run the oceans dry.
then just to make things really tough and put the pressure on,
turn off the vital oxygen till every breath is gone!
You know He would be justified, if fairness was the game, 
for no one has been more abused or met with more disdain
than God, and yet He carries on, supplying you and me
with all the favors of His grace, and everything for free.
Men say they want a better deal, and so on strike they go,
but what a deal we’ve given God to whom all things we owe.
We don’t care whom we hurt to gain the things we like; 
but what a mess we’d all be in, if God should go on strike.” ~ Walt Huntley

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I Asked God

Prayer, petitionI asked God for strength that I might achieve.
I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health that I might do greater things.
I was given infirmity that I might do better things.
I asked for riches that I might be happy.
I was given poverty that I might be wise.
I asked for power that I might have the praise of men.
I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things that I might enjoy life.
I was given life that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am, among all men, most richly blessed. ~ (Anonymous)

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Simon the Cyrenian Speaks

Simon-of-Cyrene_artHe never spoke a word to me,
And yet He called my name;
He never gave a sign to me,
And yet I knew and came.
At first I said, “I will not bear
His cross upon my back;
He only seeks to place it there
Because my skin is black.”
But He was dying for a dream,
And He was very meek,
And in His eyes there shone a gleam
Men journey far to seek.
It was Himself my pity bought;
I did for Christ alone
What all of Rome could not have wrought
With bruise of lash or stone.~ Anonymous

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The Weaver

Trust GodMy life is but a weaving, between my God and me,
I do not choose the colors, He worketh steadily.
Oftimes He weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride
forget He sees the upper, and I the underside.
Not til the loom is silent, and the shuttles cease to fly,
Will God unroll the canvas, and explain the reasons why
The dark threads are as needful in the skillful Weaver’s Hand
as threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.
He knows, He loves, He cares, Nothing this truth can dim
He gives His very best to those who leave the choice with Him. ~ Anonymous

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