Poem - Reaping and Sowing

I wrote this poem about a year ago and just found it hidding in my computer directory (thanks to Google Desktop Search!), so please enjoy and let me know what you think. Also, click on the "poem" link above for other poems that I have posted on this blog. Have a wonderful day!


To Reap and sow has great effect,
On more than just a life
We see our goals as distant plans
And effort free from strife

We durst not dream of burdened plight
Or of unending labor.
We’d rather see an easy plan
Than work for our Lord’s favor.

We sparsely so our seeds of work
In gardens thick with weeds.
Then ask the Lord why our attempts
Do naught to grow our seeds.

He says with loving hand outstretched
I want the best for you
Perhaps tis' best if others reap
What through you I could do.

We reply oh no Lord don’t
Please use me in every way.
You see I plan to pick those weeds
Perhaps another day.

But with each passing day we find
Opportunities do not wait
For those with good intentions
Who’ve drafted plans so great.

So every day we try again
To tend a perfect garden.
And every day we find a sin
And ask our dear Lord’s pardon

He replies with grace sufficient
And sends us on our way
Full knowing that his perfect will
Steps back each wayward day

We know not all the hurt we cause
For God knows our true potential
The choices he sees as paramount
We think inconsequential


God must expect so much of man
We scarce can comprehend it.
Some say “It’s just the way I am”
God’s perfect mold won’t fit

And if I cannot fit the mold
Why should I even try?
I’ll simply find an easier way
And take a relieving sigh

Then God looks down and says “Please Wait”
I hate to see you go.
My ways are far above you ways
The mold won’t fit, I know.

It’s true I had to change my will
With each mistake you made
But every time that you came back
I forgot you ever strayed

I believe in you so much, you see
I’ve planned another way
For you see I have different mold
It just came out today.

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A Pastor's Heart - Poem - Dr. Jack Hyles

"I have a burden, Pastor, that

I'd like to lay on you."

I listened, tho he never knew

I had a burden too.
I took a tearful look toward mine;

Then his came into view.

'Twas plain to see my burden was

The larger of the two.
I saw his load alongside mine,

And, tho they both were real,

The yoke he bore was made of wood,

And mine was made of steel.
To him I said, "Come unto me;

I'll gladly carry thine";

Then whispered unto selfishness,

"But who will carry mine?"
I softly laid my burden down

To help him his to bear,

While knowing that my heavy load

I'm not allowed to share.
I'll help him with his burden, then
Regain mine after while,

When I will sigh and weep once more,

While now I force a smile.
I felt the CHAINS OF BONDAGE till

A CAPTIVE came to me.

He bade me help him break the bands,

And aid him to be free.
I saw the fetters binding him,

And felt a pity pain.

For his were made of little rope,

And mine of heavy chain.
I laid aside my heavy chains,

So he, my help, could borrow.

I'll help free him of bondage now,

And think of mine tomorrow.
A DOUBTER knocked at study door;

I had an urge to groan,

"Why bring your pebble doubt to me,

When mine is made of stone?"
I smiled at him and listened, while

Believing in my doubt.

I laid it down reluctantly,

And feigned about a happy shout.
I sat ALONE in darkened room,

And felt a shadow's knife.

Another came to share with me

Some darkness in his life.
As I compared my night with his,

His dark possessed a lack.

For his was just an evening shade,

While mine was midnight black.
I slowly laid my nighttime down,

To help him seek for light.

I'll tread my dimming path again,

When I have made his bright.
A TROUBLED SOUL came to my door,

A problem to confide.

I had a problem, too, that day;

'Twas hard for me to hide.
My problem was a mountain steep,

And his was just a hill.

My problem was an ocean wide,

And his a tiny nil.
Yet, 'tis my lot to fill his need,
And put mine on the shelf.

For I must lay my heartache down,

And hide it from myself.
He told me of a broken heart,

While mine was breaking too.

I told him of a mending God

Who maketh all things new.
He told me of his thirsty soul;

I gave him living water.

He said he was a broken vase;

I told him of the Potter.
Another came when I was SICK

To say he had the flu.

His fever was a hundred-one,

And mine a hundred-two.
Another came when I was FAINT,

To say that he was weak.

Another came when I was DUMB,

To say he could not speak.
Another WEEPING SEEKER came,

For me, his tears to dry.

I went alone and wiped my eyes,

Then told him not to cry.
Another came when I was TIRED,

To say he needed rest.

I lifted him with weary arms,

And tried to give him zest.
AND NOW, IT'S LATE,

and all have gone,

Each one to his abode.

So I must find my problems, and

Regain my heavy load.
Where is the burden I had borne?

I had it while ago!

Where is the problem I must solve?

I left it here, I know!
Where is the darkness I once knew?

I now see only light.

The chains, the tears, the pains, the fears,

Are nowhere now in sight!
I cannot find my broken heart!

Where is my fevered brow?

I have a song! the tears are gone!

I cannot find them now!
My sickness, now, is turned to health!

And trust replaceth fright!

Assurance covers all my doubts;

My darkness now is light!
I heard a voice from Heaven say

"My child, 'tis always true:

When you take care of others' needs,

I will take care of you."

God's Way Poem

God’s Way

Today our world is changing fast
Just as it’s always done.
But God is still the same as when
Creation had begun.

He offers His involvemement
To help us every day.
And yet we choose a defferent path
Rather than His way.

Why do we choose a life bereft
Of providential care?
Each promise in His Word is true.
Why claim we not our share?

It seems it would be simple
To choose the path of God.
To feel His presence always
With every step we trod.

What more could we ask in life
Than God to hear our prayer?
The Holy One, the Great I Am
To truly hear and care.

When He looks down upon our lives
Our faith must seem so small.
If it were as a mustard seed,
We’d move a mountain tall.

Ambigious does not describe
What God so clearly states.
He doesn’t try to hide the truth
When promise He relates.

He says, “I’ll answer all your prayers
If you believe and ask.”
What simpler way could God convey
He’s ready for the task?

If we but pray and ask of Him
That His will would be done,
We’d find assurance --peace of mind
Through God’s begotten Son.

So let us trod the path of God;
His way is truly blessed.
When things are tough it is enough
To know God knows what's best.

Walking with the Father - Poem

Walking with the Father

What does it mean to walk with God?
To feel him every step I trod.
Indescribable love for me
He shows with grace and mercy free.

Without him I am nothing at all.
With him I stand straight and tall.
Nothing’s impossible when he’s nigh
Yet I can do nothing when I try.

At first this way seems incomplete;
I accomplish no tremendous feat.
Instead, I fall and fail again;
I cannot seem to conquer sin.

I try as hard as I know how
And with a wrinkled worried brow
Assess my life in disarray
And wonder why I went this way.

Was it to find success and joy
I first loved God as a little boy?

I think of my first prayer request:
I hadn’t even done my best.
Why should he meddle in my life
Or cure my silly third grade strife?

A school test was my concern;
It wasn’t my desire to learn.
My pencil had simply come up lost
And my emotions were sorely tossed.

I prayed for God to intervene.
The best thing that I’ve ever seen-
A pencil lay upon the ground.
I think it wanted to be found.

You say, “No God would place it there.
This trifling thing is not his care.”
Perhaps for you this might be true;
This no God would do for you.

For God is such a noble term,
Implying someone strict and firm.
I don’t believe that God came down
Removing robe and royal crown

To place a pencil in my path
To ease my teacher’s certain wrath.
His title changed to meet my need;
The Father came to take the lead.

I knew that day I was his child.
My life he’d molded, watched, and styled.
Since then my Father’s always there
My worries doubts and joys to share.

Joint heir with Jesus Christ I am
Related to that worthy Lamb.
I ask believing, and I find
The custody papers God has signed

To call me his own child, and then
He answers prayers and conquers sin.
I yield my life to his control.
Forever his name I’ll extol.

My life is neither rich nor poor,
But every time my heart is sore
I find him with me every hour,
Not sitting in palatial tower.

My Father knows my every need
I am his own adopted seed.
He intervenes for me each day,
And answers every time I pray.

His presence is reward enough
For every time my path is rough.