My Weakness, His Strength

It oft produces a feeling forlorn

can leave me feeling spent and worn

when in my own grit, its fury I’ve borne……

My weakness.

It should elicit bended knees

on which to offer humble pleas

to the One by whose help, those burdens ease……

My weakness.

It just might  be the vehicle,

troubles that come to weary the soul 

 to prompt relinquish of mine own control…..

My weakness.

That grievous weight I struggle to bear,

when at last it is given over in prayer,

that blessed assurance my God does share…..

His strength.

My liberated being truly sings,

renewed by the joy His presence brings.

I find myself lifted on eagle’s wings…..

His strength.

So when I’m trembling and brought down low,

my world is rocking to and fro,

how else, but through weakness could I know????

His strength!

9/1/21

“And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” 

2 Corinthians 12:9

Every Child Needs A Laptop

Every child needs a laptop.
No, I’m not out of my mind.
I speak not of electronics.
I talk of the human kind.


A spot where they feel secure
until the 12th of never,
by a tender, nurturing mother
who assures she will love them forever.


The nook that they long to inhabit
when Dad arrives home from work
and does them well as they sit for a spell,
his laptop is their prized perk.


A place where a youngster can hunker down
while in loving arms embraced,
as they hear a grandparent’s stories
of trials overcome when faced.


It’s a fortress of strength with unlimited length
in imparting to offspring instruction,
as they’re cuddled and curled while words are unfurled
in aiding their soul’s construction.


It’s really not keen ,kids entranced by a screen,
their sensitivity and sense to sap.
Let them know wisdom’s showers that come from the hours
of time that they spent on your lap.


3/3/21
Inspired by the following quote:
“All children need a laptop. Not a computer, but a human laptop. Moms, Dads, Grannies and Grandpas, Aunts, Uncles – someone to hold them, read to them, teach them. Loved ones who will embrace them and pass on the experience, rituals and knowledge of a hundred previous generations. Loved ones who will pass to the next generation their expectations of them, their hopes, and their dreams.” ~ Colin Powell

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Cancelled Fear

I’m canceling the fear culture

in Jesus’ holy name.

No longer do I submit to its tyranny,

and I refuse the shame.

For fear is not the state of mind

in which God wants me to live.

It robs me of my needed faith

until I have none to give.

By the power of the Holy Ghost

I’ll walk in liberty.

God filled me with His Spirit

that I might be set free

from the terrors, doubts and what ifs,

contrary to His Word.

If I keep my eyes on Jesus,

I walk in vision not blurred.

So fear culture, get thee behind me

in Jesus’ mighty name.

I will not be a participant

in your selfish and deadly game.

2/17/21

Victory Is From The Lord

Fools will oppose with senseless prattle,

binding the truth with chains that rattle.

Though the horse is prepared for the day of battle,

Victory is from the Lord.

Liars, over simple, seek to hold sway;

cruelly intend to have their own way.

Tides can turn as we watch and pray

Victory is from the Lord.

Situation’s can often look rather bleak,

leave us feeling like we’re up a creek.

God’s face we must not fail to seek.

Victory is from the Lord.

We cannot succeed in our strength alone.

We need help to flow from heaven’s throne.

And in its arrival, this truth fully known

Victory is from the Lord!

11/21/2020

“A horse is prepared for the day of battle, but victory comes from the Lord.” Proverbs 21:31

You Are The Potter

You are the Potter.

I am the clay.

As handcrafted creation

I’ve no right to say

“Why hast thou made me thus?”

It’s not open for us to discuss.

You are the Potter.

I am the clay.

On your spinning wheel

teach me to stay.

Let  your hands shape me in the right direction,

yielding to  pressure

that works out imperfection.

You are the Potter.

I am the clay.

Perhaps I’m not exquisite 

and put on display.

Let me be content

just by You to be used

in the exact manner 

that You wisely choose.

You are the Potter.

I am the clay.

If you see part of me

that’s in disarray

to you I make this earnest appeal

although it may hurt, put me back on the wheel.

You are the Potter.

I am the clay.

You know what’s best.

Dear Lord, have Your way.

In your mercy and patience

cease not to work on me

till I’m fit for a God filled eternity.

11/27/2020

“But now, O LORD, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.” Isaiah 64:8

“Then I went down to the potter’s house, and, behold, he wrought a work on the wheels. And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter: so he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it.” Jeremiah 18:3,4

“Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus? Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?” Romans 9:20,21

A Tale Of Two Tomes

The finest Moroccan leather tome
sat regally on display,
the Bible from her grandma,
a gift on their wedding day.

Scarcely touched pages still snowy white
graced by golden filigree,
sitting safely inside the curio
for all passersby to see.

To have such a lavish copy as this,
one might say they’re quite blessed
but God looking down from heaven
felt sad rather than impressed.

She told herself she should read it
but with busy cares of life,
work, family and pressing plans,
with excuses her mind was rife.

So sacred writ sat there year after year
just merely a decoration
not life giving words to be read and loved
to procure a soul’s salvation.

****************************

But not very far away

on the other side of town

lay a Bible on an oaken coffee table

its cover, a faded brown.

Sticking out from the bottom of this tome

that looked to be bruised and battered,

blue ribbon that served as a bookmark

hung limply, its end frayed and tattered.

Upon opening the much used Book

the pages were yellowed and worn

many were scribbled with notes

and some damaged and slightly torn.

One look at this bestseller’s spine

revealed a binding quite loose.

There was even a page stained purple

from unexpected spilling of juice.

Tear stains were found throughout

that could not be denied

from the owner of this Blessed tome,

evidence she was moved and had cried.

Turning through the threadbare pages,

declared that its leaves were hue loaded,

with verses that with colored pencils

had been categorized and coded.

There were browns for repentance, blues for baptism,

reds for the Holy Ghost,

purples for holiness, greens for creation,

with the One God yellows, the most.

To the eye of the average beholder

this manuscript, not a pretty sight

but God looked down from Heaven

with wonder and delight.

For the Bible was never meant to be

just an ornamental frill,

but to be read and loved and believed

its wisdom, our lives to fill.

No treasures can be found

in pristine and unturned pages

only gold diggers of this Holy Book

can extract the Rock of Ages.

9/25/2020

Failing Marx

“Thus Heaven I’ve forfeited, I know it full well.

My soul, once true to God, is chosen for Hell.”

Karl Marx(author of the Communist Manifesto) – excerpt from a poem written in 1837

I reject the spirit of Karl Marx
and the rampant evil on which it embarks.
It confuses, disturbs, deceives and blinds,
preys on impressionable, youthful minds.

I refuse the spirit of Karl Marx.
To its call I’ll not be one who harks.
A deaf ear I turn to it’s every beckon.
Dead to such lies, myself I reckon.

I despise the spirit of Karl Marx
that’s brought looting and violence to cities and parks
aligning itself with satan’s ploy
to murder, steal, kill and destroy.

I rebuke the spirit of Karl Marx.
How it has ignited hatred’s sparks!
Tempers explode and patience grows thin
with perceived injustice over color of skin.

Yes, I rebuke that spirit in Jesus’ name.
Go back foul spirit, to your pit of shame.
Your gruesome and diabolical toil
isn’t welcome on American soil.

8/29/2020

Is It Party Time?

Here is the church.

Here is the steeple.

Open the door,

but where are the people?

They should be inside.

There’s plenty of room.

 Due to pandemic lies

they’re meeting on Zoom.

They were told temporarily 

stay home for your health,

yet it was propaganda

sneaking in by stealth.

We need to recover

this freedom we lost.

Let us ask ourselves

“Will we pay the cost?”

It’s up to you.

It’s up to me.

Perhaps once again

we will dump Boston tea.

9/2/2020

When Queen Covid Quakes

wicked queen

 

Covid 19

she sits as a queen;

her rule, in very grave error.

Mainstream media seen

on many a screen

promoting her reign of terror.

 

 

She’s forcing compliance

based on false science;

making each subject wear mask.

Some will not make alliance,

rise up in defiance

Face coverings, they take to task.

 

 

She bids you bow knee

to her Marxist decree

close your business that’s deemed non-essential.

Many can’t see

that their destiny

brims with communistic potential.

 

 

At one word she does jeer

for it fills her with fear,

but I think it’s just divine.

Let’s rise up and cheer.

Shout that cure in her ear.

Hydroxychloroquine!

8/10/2020

 

The Writer Of My Story

writing-bible-scroll

The perfect pace

of His comforting grace

has brought me thru many a trial.

Whate’er I face

as I run life’s race,

He aids me to go the next mile.

 

 

My God makes it known

that I’m never alone.

I’ve never by Him been forsaken.

My mind’s  often blown

with the wonders He’s shown.

By blessings I am overtaken.

 

 

He’s that constant friend

on whom I depend,

in sunshine and in rain.

He’s faithful to send

the ideal blend

to my life, both joy and pain.

 

 

I’m fully persuaded

each day I am aided

by the Writer of my life’s story.

I have anticipated

with breath that is bated

for that moment I’ll see Him in glory.

8/9/2020