Poetry Saturday—Smiles

Smile a little, smile a little, 
    As you go along, 
Not alone when life is pleasant, 
    But when things go wrong. 
Care delights to see you frowning, 
    Loves to hear you sigh; 
Turn a smiling face upon her, 
    Quick the dame will fly.

Smile a little, smile a little, 
    All along the road; 
Every life must have its burden, 
    Every heart its load. 
Why sit down in gloom and darkness, 
    With your grief to sup? 
As you drink Fate’s bitter tonic 
    Smile across the cup.

Smile upon the troubled pilgrims 
    Whom you pass and meet; 
Frowns are thorns, and smiles are blossoms 
    Oft for weary feet. 
Do not make the way seem harder 
    By a sullen face, 
Smile a little, smile a little, 
    Brighten up the place.

Smile upon your undone labor; 
    Not for one who grieves 
O’er his task, waits wealth or glory; 
    He who smiles achieves. 
Though you meet with loss and sorrow 
    In the passing years, 
Smile a little, smile a little, 
    Even through your tears. —Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Poetry Saturday—O Little Flock, Fear Not The Foe

O little flock, fear not the Foe
Who madly seeks your overthrow;
Dread not his rage and power.
What though your courage sometimes faints,
His seeming triumph o’er God’s saints
Lasts but a little hour.

Be of good cheer; your cause belongs
To Him who can avenge your wrongs;
Leave it to Him, our Lord.
Though hidden yet from mortal eyes,
His Gideon shall for you arise,
Uphold you and His Word.

As true as God’s own Word is true.
Not earth nor hell with all their crew
Against us shall prevail.
A jest and byword are they grown;
God is with us, we are His own;
Our victory cannot fail. —Johann M. Altenburg

 

Poetry Saturday—What Do You Have?

Moses had a staff.
David had a sling.
Samson had a jawbone.
Rahab had a string.
Mary had some ointment.
Aaron had a rod.
Dorcas had a needle.
All were used of God.
What do you have? —Max Lucado, in You!

Poetry Saturday—Love In Triplets

The Father says, “I love you, child.”
But those by baser things beguiled
ignore the witness of things wild.

The Son extends His hands to say,
“I love you, child; come, walk My way.”
 We nail His hands, then turn astray.

The Spirit, armed with saving grace,
“I love you!” says, right in your face
and takes your heart in His embrace.

So when that small, bright bloom you see,
that lure waved by the Deity,
then from those leaflets, one in three,
receive God’s love, unhurriedly. —T. M. Moore, Bricks and Rungs

“Love’s Labor”

Work is no curse; from the beginning we
were made for work, to seek the goodness of
the Lord, to multiply His beauty, love,
and truth, and serve His creatures happily.
When work is as a gift and ministry
received, a sacred calling from above,
then will each labor be engaged with love
and excellence, imparting dignity
and grace to those it serves, that they may see
in every labor a reflection of
the God who by His sacrifice of love
has worked the miracle that sets us free.
   You are love’s labor, everyone can see,
   especially as you labor long with Me. —T.M. Moore, from his book Bricks And Rungs

“Common Things”

You never, Heraclitus claimed,
step in the same stream twice.
Appearances may seem the same
(familiarity’s to blame,
or each things never-changing name),
but heed that Greek’s advice.
There’s more to life than meets the eye
or dances on the ear.
The moments of our lives flow by,
fraught with potential we might try;
yet, deaf to their sweet siren cry,
we neither see nor hear.
But hidden in each common thing
and every routine sound,
in leafless trees, on flashing wing,
the song that common sparrows sing,
and each arriving email’s “Ding!”
are wonders to be found.
Step through, then, into unseen worlds
where mysteries abound.
Eternal truths will be unfurled,
and nagging doubts behind you hurled
when your poor soul is slowly swirled,
turned upright and around
in common things profound. —T.M. Moore, from his book Bricks And Rungs

Poetry Saturday—In Christ

In Christ I feel the heart of God. 
Throbbing from heaven through earth: 
Life stirs again within the clod. 
Renewed in beauteous birth. 
The soul springs up, a flower of prayer, 
Breathing his breath out on the air. 

In Christ I touch the hand of God, 
From His pure height reached down, 
By blessed ways before untrod, 
To lift us to our crown;—
Victory that only perfect is 
Through loving sacrifice, like His. 

Holding His hand, my steadied feet 
May walk the air, the seas; 
On life and death His smile falls sweet,—
Lights up all mysteries: 
Stranger nor exile can I be 
In new worlds where He leadeth me. 

Not my Christ only: He is ours; 
Humanity’s close bond; 
Key to its vast unopened powers, 
Dream of our dreams beyond.—
What yet we shall be, none can tell; 
Now are we His, and all is well. —Lucy Larcom

Bricks And Rungs (book review)

T.M. Moore is a first-rate theologian, so everything he writes is well-grounded in Scripture. However, when most people think of “theology,” they think of a lifeless treatise that is boring to read, or perhaps difficult to grasp. But T.M. totally shakes things up in Bricks And Rungs with rock-solid theology presented in beautiful poetic verse.

Bricks And Rungs is all about finding our purpose or calling in life. T.M. says—

“Most people have a sense of being here for some reason. They must become something, achieve something, or come to know something which they consider to be unique to them. Something is out there for them, beckoning them, drawing and wooing them beyond themselves to realize more of something, however that is envisioned or whatever it may be.

“Calling is experienced as a summons from without, a beckoning which resonates with something within, something deeply personal, leading us to aspire to more than what we know or are or have at present. …

“Everyone has a sense of calling. Christians know this to be a summons from God, a command which their lives are intended to fulfill by knowing God and serving Him. The Christian knows that each human being is called to know God and, knowing Him, to serve Him gladly and fruitfully. Calling thus involves our need to be blessed and to be a blessing to others.”

Some of these poems are autobiographical to T.M. Moore, some are reflections on Scripture, and some are musings about how each of us discovers our own calling. But all of these poems will open a window in your soul to hear God’s voice speaking to you about your own unique calling.

Take some time to linger over these insightful words.

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