Poetry and Images from a Christian

Monday, November 1, 2010

All About Jesus...

Once, a good friend of mine asked if I felt God spoke to me. I said, "Yes," which was true. Then he asked, "How do you know it is God talking to you and not your own thoughts?" Sadly, I had not at the time considered this question and I had no clear answer. I am glad he asked, however, because I have been thinking about it often since, with mind and ears open to answers from within my own experiences and those of other people.

I think most of the time God speaks to us through the Bible and the quiet, internal whispers of the His Holy Spirit. Because we hear His voice from within, we can sometimes be confused if it is our own thinking or His message to us. Sometimes we need to compare those new thoughts to the whole message of the Bible and look for agreement with the fruits of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.) Very often His thoughts are so surprising, so very good, so new, so persistent, and/or so opposite of our own will or natural tendency in a matter, that we really feel little doubt He is nudging us in a new direction. Sometimes He speaks to us through other people and /or circumstances. Sometimes,  more rarely, He speaks in surprising ways like visions or otherwise inexplicable experiences.

Ultimately, hearing the voice of God is something one has to experience to grasp fully. Thankfully, Jesus offers everyone that opportunity. He loves everyone.  He promises to be found by us, if we seek Him earnestly, and the best place to begin looking for Him is in the Holy Bible. If you haven't met Jesus yet, you can. Ask Him simply in prayer to show Himself to you as you read His word. The book of John in the New Testament is a good starting place. Pray and read a little every day (30 minutes is a good goal) and before long He will meet you there, I'm sure. I dare say He is waiting for you.

That is my very long introduction to the following poems about my best friend, Jesus.


Underneath the marshmallow chicks,
And colored eggs, and jelly beans,
Nestled down in the green grass
Is a small jewel box,
Bearing a silver chain and pendant,
A tiny cross within a heart,
The best gift of the day.

Thirty years later,
Underneath the schedules, and lists, and jobs,
And needs, and wants
Is a real cross
Within a beating heart,
The best of hope,
The Truth, the Life, the Way.

As A Child At Play

As a child at play
I used to say,
"I throw the ball up to God
And He throws it back down to me.
I throw the ball up to God
And He throws it back down to me."
I didn't know it then,
We were playing a game He made up
Called gravity.

Visitors for Jesus

They were Kings of the East
Who, in spite of wealth and power,
Perceived they were not
The Beginning and the End.

So they became wise men
Searching the scriptures for One
Who could be all they were not.
They found Him promised
And His time declared by Isaiah,
Themselves described in Psalms,
And in Numbers, their sign to watch for,
A brilliant new star.

So they became astrologers
Searching the skies
For a bright new herald,
The sign.
Diligent, they did not miss
His awesome and heavenly light.

Then they became travelers
Packing camels with provisions
To last the long journey,
Food and fine clothing for servants and kings,
Tents and utensils
And other necessary things,
And valuable gifts carefully chosen
For the new Servant King.

Leaving Tarshish and Sheba and Seba
They came
Resting by day,
Traveling by night,
Driven by faith,
Led by the star.

When the light halted over the place,
They came close,
And fell to their knees,
Mere men

Then solemnly, joyfully
They brought out their gifts
To honor the babe,
Bright gold for the King,
Sweet frankincense for the God,
And pungent, precious myrrh for the Savior.

They were kings
Who waited and watched
And journeyed long
To find Him
And make Him their King.

And now,
Because He loved us so,
We no longer have to go
Or travel far
To find Him.
But only search
And He is there

Some  little drawings I made one Christmas while staying at my parents house. My Mom always makes everything warm and cozy there.