Until That Day

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I know the One I have believed
His grace was entrusted to me
He will guard it until that day

Because He suffered in my place
I will be bold and unashamed
I will serve Him until that day

For I will never be the same
I have His Spirit and His name
He will guide me until that day

Behind the lines

Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord, nor of me his prisoner, but share in suffering for the gospel by the power of God, who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began, and which now has been manifested through the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel, for which I was appointed a preacher and apostle and teacher, which is why I suffer as I do. But I am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed, and I am convinced that he is able to guard until that day what has been entrusted to me.
(2 Timothy 1:8-12 ESV)

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It Should Have Been Me

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It should have been me
Crushed for my iniquity
While I was an enemy
It should have been me
Despised and rejected
Smitten and afflicted
It should have been me
Broken and spilled out
God’s wrath poured out
It should have been me

Behind the lines

He was despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
Surely he has borne our griefs

and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his wounds we are healed.
(Isaiah 53:4-5 ESV)

Streams of Imagination

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The darkened clouds build and rise quickly and quietly, the rain gathers and gently drops, the waters combine, gather more and more speed and flow toward their destination.

Childhood streams of imagination become adolescent rivers flooded by adult responsibilities and rush on to repositories of wisdom.

A great lake begun by glacial dreams, created by life experiences, unique storms, and glorious memories reveals vivid colors of bluish green, brownish gray, or golden hues depending on the time of day.

Deep and beautiful to behold, birds soar and sing above it, puffy clouds form objects in the sky, and fish leap toward them and splash back down – rippling the water.

All along the shore gnarled weathered trees with strong needles and leaves watch with folded arms as they stand on their deep roots.

The water reflects the past while revealing the future as children laugh and play with rocks, sticks and sand among the sprawling roots and sloping banks – their voices excited and full of wonder.

The sun begins to set, yet lingers long in amusement at the converging streams of imagination, then stops, smiles and winks.

 

Depression

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I’m living inside a book return
The door opens and in they come
But I can’t read them fast enough
Light appears and the door slams shut

A thousand books weigh on my brain
A million words calling me insane
Not one can help my soul explain
The depths of my numbness to pain

I suffer beneath a familiar face
Gagged by volumes about my case
Each page numbered with more disgrace
Bound in a box of no escape

No one will ever find me here
No words of hope can bring me cheer
I’m lost in a prank of polished steel
Trapped in the depths of vaulted fear

Behind the lines

“The mind can descend far lower than the body, for in it there are bottomless pits. The flesh can bear only a certain number of wounds and no more, but the soul can bleed in ten thousand ways, and die over and over again each hour.”
~C.H. Spurgeon

This poem was inspired by reading Zack Eswine’s book Spurgeon’s Sorrows: Realistic Hope for those who Suffer from Depression.

 

You Love Me With Your Eyes

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I can see it in your eyes
I can sense it across the room
There’s no hiding what you’re feeling
And there’s nothing I can do

You love me with your eyes
You’re in love and everyone knows
You have strength deep inside
And it shines wherever you go
Girl, you take me into your soul when
You love me with your eyes

Everyone else disappears
When you glance over at me
When our eyes meet they lock in a kiss
Like lightning hitting the sea

Waves crashing on a pristine beach
Sunset falling over the ocean side
Starlight as far as the heavens deep
And then there’s your eyes

 

When Daddy’s Hands Were Bigger

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Staring at an old framed photograph hanging on my parent’s wall,
It stopped me in my tracks as I was walking down their hall,
I just stood there, going back in time, letting it all soak in,
As memories, like a slide show, reminded me of life back then.

Hauling hay, smelling the sweet grass, riding high on a half-ton Chevy truck,
Splitting wood until blisters formed, then stacking all of it up,
Raking leaves around the roots of the giant white oak late in the fall,
Shooting hoops in the driveway and chasing down the ball.

Riding my bike on Harmony Drive, peddling that black Huffy for hours,
Building a fort in the woods under fallen pine trees near the pasture,
Removing debris damming the little backyard creek to help it flow,
Growing up outside, a young man, always on the go.

The flashbacks began to fade as I slowly came back to the present,
But the last thought I had held me there for several more seconds…
Back then it was a different world of busy, and life was so much simpler,
When Daddy’s hands were bigger.

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