Poetry Saturday—Mountain Sheep

Step by step we make the climb
A rhythm beat from foot on gravel
Lost in thought and void of time
As we track this tower of babel

Hard dead earth, scorched by sun
More confused near the top
Both hot and cold are found in one
Both grasp for life like the withered crops

These people, poor people, hid up in the mountain
Seeking always to find life’s summit
But poisoned by deceit’s sweet fountain
And so, into darkness they continue to plummet

Why is the truth to these people unspoken
Who comes to shepherd these mountain sheep
Where is the news that the grave was broken
The harvest is plenty, but who comes to reap —Luke Brogden

(This was written by my nephew after visiting Nepal and meeting people who hadn’t yet heard about Jesus.)

Poetry Saturday—Prayer

Lord Jesus, Maker of creation, Word
and Son of God, Redeemer, Savior, Lord
and King, we worship You, because we know
You, and we know that You have loved us so
that we might never have to live in fear;
and when our sojourn has concluded here,
Your resurrection power, which now transforms
us into Your own image, and conforms
us to Your pleasure, will deliver, keep,
and bless us. Catch us up, Lord, in the sweep
of Your forever-marching-forward grace,
and bring us to Your glorious, waiting face,
where are we, with You, and like You, will abide
forever, in Your presence, by Your side.
Amen. —T.M. Moore, in To Know Him

4 Quotes From “To Know Him”

In T.M. Moore’s book of poetic verse entitled To Know Him, he provides some insightful notes at the back of the book. These are a few quotes from those notes. You can check out my review of this book by clicking here.

“The historical data bearing witness to the reality of Jesus, and the events of His life, death, and resurrection, is unassailable. Thousands of documents, from both within the Christian movement and beyond it, as well as numerous archaeological artifacts testify to the existence of Jesus. The consistent witness of countless multitudes of believers through the ages also adds to the certainty that a historical personage of considerable enduring influence, Jesus from Nazareth, lived at a certain time, and talked and lived in ways which anyone with an open mind can investigate for himself. Only the most willingly blind deny that Jesus existed, and only the most foolhardy refuse to explore the evidence that bears witness to Him.”

“No one can claim to know Jesus as He intends without this twofold sense and experience of His immanence (God with us) and His transcendence (God exalted in glory). The better we acquaint ourselves with Jesus in both these dimensions, the more our outlook on and approach to life will reflect His. We will see our lives as He does, as enormously significant, and we will desire for our lives what He does, so that our relationship with Him bears fruit in daily life, and our fellowship with Him grows daily stronger.”

“We know Jesus by the work He does in and through us, especially the freedom from sin’s power which the power of Jesus unleashes in us.”

“As full and enjoyable as this life of knowing Jesus can be, it is but a foretaste of a richer, fuller, and more joyous relationship yet to come. Now, in anticipation of that greater glory, we seek it earnestly by faith, and thus know it increasingly as our daily experience—living the there and then in the here and now.”

To Know Him (book review)

I am so appreciative of those who have the gift of poetry. There is something about the rhythm and flow of poetic verse that speaks to our hearts in a way that typical writing cannot. I’m even more amazed when the poet happens to be someone who is also a premier theologian, which is exactly what you will find in To Know Him by T.M. Moore.

I have benefitted greatly from the theological and doctrinal insights from Moore. I daily read his posts and always come away with an insight on Scripture that I hadn’t previously considered. Even knowing that I was blown away by the profound truths in To Know Him that were flowing off the pages in poetic verse.

To Know Him leads us through a Christian’s progression in attempting to really know who Jesus is. To help you along the way, Moore has provided endnotes on his poetic verses, as well as ample references to all of the biblical passages which he masterfully wove together in the crafting of his poem.

I know you will find To Know Him as rewarding, heart-warming, and mind-opening as I did!

Poetry Saturday—A Private Litany Of Humility

From the desire of being praised, deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being honored, deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being preferred, deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being consulted, deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being approved, deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of comfort and ease, deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being humiliated, deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being criticized, deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being passed over, deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being forgotten, deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being lonely, deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being hurt, deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of suffering, deliver me, Jesus.
That others may be loved more than I,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be chosen and I set aside,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be praised and I unnoticed,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like Yours.
O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, strengthen me with Your Spirit.
O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, teach me Your ways.
O Jesus, meek and humble of heart,
help me put my self-importance aside
to learn the kind of cooperation with others
that makes possible the presence of your Abba’s household. Amen. —Rafael Cardinal Merry Del Val

Poetry Saturday—Christmas Fancies

When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, 
We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, 
    And etched on vacant places 
    Are half forgotten faces 
Of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know— 
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow.

Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near, 
We see, with strange emotion that is not free from fear, 
    That continent Elysian 
    Long vanished from our vision, 
Youth’s lovely lost Atlantis, so mourned for and so dear, 
Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near.

When gloomy gray Decembers are roused to Christmas mirth, 
The dullest life remembers there once was joy on earth, 
    And draws from youth’s recesses 
    Some memory it possesses, 
And, gazing through the lens of time, exaggerates its worth, 
When gloomy gray December is roused to Christmas mirth.

When hanging up the holly or mistletoe, I wis 
Each heart recalls some folly that lit the world with bliss. 
    Not all the seers and sages 
    With wisdom of the ages 
Can give the mind such pleasure as memories of that kiss 
When hanging up the holly or mistletoe, I wis.

For life was made for loving, and love alone repays, 
As passing years are proving, for all of Time’s sad ways. 
    There lies a sting in pleasure, 
    And fame gives shallow measure, 
And wealth is but a phantom that mocks the restless days, 
For life was made for loving, and only loving pays.

When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver chimes, 
And silences are melting to soft, melodious rhymes, 
    Let Love, the world’s beginning, 
    End fear and hate and sinning; 
Let Love, the God Eternal, be worshiped in all climes 
When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver chimes. —Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Poetry Saturday—Bells Across The Snow

O Christmas, merry Christmas,
Is it really come again,
With its memories and greetings,
With its joy and with its pain!
There’s a minor in the carol
And a shadow in the light,
And a spray of cypress twining
With the holly wreath tonight.
And the hush is never broken
By laughter light and low,
As we listen in the starlight
To the “bells across the snow.”
O Christmas, merry Christmas,
’Tis not so very long
Since other voices blended
With the carol and the song!
If we could but hear them singing,
As they are singing now,
If we could but see the radiance
Of the crown on each dear brow,
There would be no sigh to smother,
No hidden tear to flow,
As we listen in the starlight
To the “bells across the snow.”
O Christmas, merry Christmas,
This never more can be;
We cannot bring again the days
Of our unshadowed glee,
But Christmas, happy Christmas,
Sweet herald of good will,
With holy songs of glory
Brings holy gladness still.
For peace and hope may brighten,
And patient love may glow,
As we listen in the starlight
To the “bells across the snow.” —Frances Ridley Havergal

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