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“The glory of man is as the flower of grass.”
“Which today is, and tomorrow is cast into the oven;” never does it last. Its fragrance may waft aromatic, as its blossom peaks; But soon wanes as petals fall, leaving a stem most barren and bleak
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The ides of October bring God’s panoramic display from His Celestial Palette;
Brilliant and subtle hues blend to perfection, in the cool crisp air of Autumn’s majestic summit. All of God’s woodland creatures rejoice at His bountiful provision; As oak trees “cast their crowns,” in obedient procession.
Lust of any flavor is as processed food for the soul;
It is sweet to the taste, but only emptiness does it bring, and sadness unfolds. Its expectation self-rises to a peak, then suddenly bursts; Leaving a dearth of disappointment, and a desert of thirst.
“No man cometh to the Father but by Me,” is a verse written in red;
These are the words of Jesus, and not of fallen man. “Your ways are not My ways,” The Lord hast said. “Ye must be born again,” separates His sheep from the goats that bother. “He that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold,...is a thief and a robber.”
One of God’s richest blessings is a grateful heart;
Always scanning the horizon for God’s handfuls of purpose He sets apart. Like the Heavenly Manna God strewed for Israel every morning, The grateful heart eagerly searches for Celestial Dew, while others are scorning.
A wild horse that rears its hooves against us all is rage;
It thunders into our lives uninvited, whether we be sinner or sage. No man can tame, nor even ride, this stalwart stallion very long; Its snort is too invasive, its hooves too sharp, its stride far too strong.
“I the Lord thy God am a jealous God,” scriptures relate;
“Thou shalt have no other gods before me,” withstands my pate. “I have loved you with an everlasting love,” comforts my heart; Knowing I am the apple of His eye sets me, for Himself, apart.
At the age of five my Godly grandmother took me into her home;
At the age of six one revival night, Jesus claimed me for his own. I am sixty-four now, as my mind’s eye blinks to all the years; I witness many of God’s Finger Prints, through all the laughter and the tears.
In days of yore, sailors encountered areas of no currents and no breeze, seemingly never to end;
They had to row day after day, under the blazing sun, with not a breath of wind. Their only respite was hope that conditions would change, a promise from their Captain of a better day; The only fuel for their labor was faith in their Commander to lead the way.
Only two paths can we travel in this life;
Pursuing the path of sensual fulfillment has the most strife. The fleshly, carnal world is “wirelessly” connected by their sensual “internet;” “If it feels good, just do it, there is no need to feel regret.” |
AuthorJim is a devoted follower of Christ, and a dear friend. He has given me permission to share the poetry that God inspires him to write. We both pray that it will draw you to a deeper and more intimate relationship with your Redeemer, the God of your salvation. Archives
January 2019
CategoriesUpdate: Jim has published a collection of his poems under the title "David's Shield and Buckler." It can be found online at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and many other internet outlets in both paperback and digital versions.
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