Tag Archives: Christian poetry

The Hand of God in All

Helen Steiner Rice poemIn everything both great and small

We see the hand of God in all,

And in the miracles of spring

When everywhere in everything

His handiwork is all around

And every lovely sight and sound

Proclaims the God of earth and sky

I ask myself “Just who am I”

That God should send His only Son

That my salvation would be won

For Jesus suffered, bled, and died

That sinners might be sanctified,

And to grant God’s children such as I

Eternal life in Heaven on High.

– Helen Steiner Rice

Advertisements

Showers of Blessings

Helen Steiner Rice poemEach day there are showers of blessings

Sent from the Father above,

For God is a great, lavish giver

And there is no end to His love –

His grace is more than sufficient,

His mercy is boundless and deep,

And His infinite blessings are countless

And all this we’re given to keep

If we but seek God and find Him

And ask for a bounteous measure

Of this wholly immeasurable offering

From God’s inexhaustible treasure –

For no matter how big man’s dream are,

God’s blessings are infinitely more,

For always God’s giving is greater

Than what man is asking for.

The Beautiful

The Beautiful

At the end of days

 

The Beautiful

Today

In my heart

 

The Beautiful

Light and life and love

Friends and family and flight

Rain and reminiscing and rainbows

 

The Beautiful

Butterflies in spring

Lightning on summer nights

Earth-tone leaves dancing in autumn

Sparkling white on forest green in winter

 

The Beautiful

Purpose and paths and promises

Rivers of life and roads of gold

Hope and Heaven

More

Who am I

To whisper a prayer in the wind

And know

It will be heard

 

Who am I

To dream of wondrous things

And know one day

They will come true

 

Who am I

To follow a path in the dark

And know

Where I am going

 

Who am I

To be told I am more

Than what I see

And know

 

More …

More than my choices

More than my mistakes

More than my regrets

More than all I’ve done

Or haven’t done

 

More than all these

I know

For I am His

A Reason, A Purpose

At times I think that in my life I’ve done more harm than good.

And I regret not having done those things I know I should.

 

At times it seems as if a mountain blocks my way

And though I’ve heard “It comes to pass,” the sorrow seeks to stay.

 

At times I feel the way is harder than my heart can bear

Times I reach out and feel that there is nothing, no one, there

 

At times I seek to pray but cannot say a word

And I admit I wonder if a single prayer was heard

 

Then there are times that joy abiding comes to fill my heart

Times I understand that I play a special, unique part

In a theme that runs so deep it was formed before time started

In a love so vast that from it none could e’er be parted

 

In a reason for this life that calls unto my very soul

In a purpose helping others find that which makes them whole

In a meaning that goes beyond life’s passing, changing times

Whispered by the One who is writing my soul’s rhyme

 

[Reblogged from Bonita Jewel’s Weblog]

All-Embracing Silence

a word in the silenceGod, where are you? …

Speak to me! Teach me!

Rebuke me! Strike me down!

But do not remain silent. …

You have revealed yourself as the speaking God . . .

Why are the heavens made of iron for me?

Job, I know, experienced you as the hidden God. And Elijah held a lonely vigil over earthquake, wind, and fire.

Me, too.

O God of wonder and mystery, teach me by means of your wondrous, terrible, loving, all-embracing silence. Amen.

– Richard Foster, Prayers from the Heart

The Word in the Silence

I cried out to His name

But all I heard was silence

He who the earth proclaimed

Before me now was silent

A simple answer, all I sought

A yes or no or maybe not

Just a word my hurting heart besought

But all I knew was silence

Does He hear my call,

He who now is silent?

Is He there at all?

If so, why the silence?

Does a pleading cry

Bring Him yet a sigh?

If He knows the answers why

Then why is He still silent?

And so I plodded on

Though all around was silent

I heard a low soft song

Carried through the silence

‘Twas not a word

But love I heard

My courage spurred

And I worked on in silence

A whisper in the trees

Was what I heard in silence

A call within the breeze

An answer to my silence

The night’s refrain

A gentle strain

Majestic, plain

It was the sound of silence

I had been so absurd

I smiled in the silence

If He is called the Word,

How can His voice be silent?

We oft fail to hear

He who is most near

The soul sheds a tear

But He is still not silent

He whose voice formed the seas

Sounds through them to the silence

He whose touch is in the breeze

Moving, shaping through the silence

His voice is everywhere

In all things lovely, fair

In the wheat among the tare

The Word can ne’er be silent

[Reprinted from “A Word Fitly Written“]