Category Archives: Poems

Autumn

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Photo by Christopher Potter.

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.
– Stanley Horowitz

I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house. So I spend almost all
the daylight hours in the open air.
– Nathaniel Hawthorne

Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color and a time of maturity; but it is also breadth, and depth, and distance. What man can stand with autumn on a hilltop and fail to see the span of his world and the meaning of the rolling hills that reach to the far horizon?
– Hal Borland

No Spring nor Summer Beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one Autumnal face.
– John Donne

Leaf afloat

Come, said the wind to the leaves one day,
Come o’re the meadows and we will play.
Put on your dresses scarlet and gold,
For summer is gone and the days grow cold.

Soon as the leaves heard the wind’s loud call,
Down they came fluttering, one and all;
Over the brown fields they danced and flew,
Singing the glad little songs they knew.

–George Cooper

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Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above
Join with all nature in manifold witness
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.

— From “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” by Thomas O. Chisholm

Autumn tree

Photo by Vocaris.

Photos courtesy of stock.xchng.

Missionary Anecdotes: Isn’t “No” an Answer?

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Just a tiny little child
Three years old,

And a mother with a heart

All of gold.

Often did that mother say,

Jesus hears us when we pray,

For He’s never far away
And He always answers.

 

Now, that tiny little child

Had brown eyes,

And she wanted blue instead

Like blue skies.

For her mother’s eyes were blue

Like forget-me-nots. She knew

All her mother said was true,

Jesus always answered.

 

So she prayed for two blue eyes,

Said “Good night,”

Went to sleep in deep content

And delight.

Woke up early, climbed a chair

By a mirror. Where, O where

Could the blue eyes be? Not there;

Jesus hadn’t answered.

 

Hadn’t answered her at all;

Never more

Could she pray; her eyes were brown

As before.

Did a little soft wind blow?

Came a whisper soft and low,

“Jesus answered. He said, No;

Isn’t No an answer?”

 

The above poem, written by Amy Carmichael, was based on on incident that actually did occur in her life when she was three. It turned out to be in the providence of God for her to have brown eyes. She became a missionary to India in the late 1890s. At first her ministry was primarily evangelistic. But along the way she became aware that some parents in India sold their daughters to the temple, where they were used for immoral purposes. God led one such child to her, and through a series of events and a sense of the Lord’s leading, Amy took the child in. Then more stories of other girls (and later, boys) surfaced and more opportunities to rescue and provide homes for these children arose. Amy had to struggle with this, because the Lord had seemed to be blessing her evangelistic work. Was it right to turn from that ministry to give herself to housing and raising children? She concluded that that was indeed God’s will for her life. The ministry grew exponentially and eventually became a whole compound, with housing for children of all ages, the workers who took care of them, and even their own hospital.

 

As Amy went “undercover” to find details of these children, she would stain her arms with coffee and wear Indian dress so that she could pass as an Indian woman and move freely in Indian society where she never could have as an Irish missionary. This she could not have done with blue eyes — her eyes would have given her away immediately. Neither she nor her mother could have ever known, all those years ago, the Lord’s purpose for her brown eyes, but the lesson of faith stayed with her all her life.

 

(Recommended biographies of Amy Carmichael: Amy Carmichael of Dohnavur by Frank L. Houghton; A Chance to Die by Elisabeth Elliot; and With Daring Faith (a children’s book) by Rebecca H. Davis.)

By Grace I’m Saved

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This song has been on my heart throughout the day. I had only heard this version on Stephen Eagar’s CD Breath of Life, but in searching for the lyrics, I found a slightly different (and fuller) version on Cyberhymnal. The music on Eager’s CD is from a traditional Gaelic melody which was also used for the song Morning Has Broken.

By Grace I’m Saved

by Christ­ian L. Scheidt

By grace I’m saved, grace free and boundless:
My soul, believe, and doubt it not.
Why should we stagger at God’s promise?
Hath Scripture ever falsehood taught?

By grace I’m saved, not by my own merit:
Our works, our conduct have no worth.
God in His love sent our Redeemer.
Christ Jesus came to sinful earth.

By grace I’m saved, O, wonderful promise
When thou art by thy sins oppressed.
When Satan plagues thy troubled conscience,
And when thy heart is seeking rest.
All of man’s reason never will comprehend
All that God’s grace alone doth send.

“In My Weakness”

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This song had been ministering to my heart for the past couple of days — well, for the past several months since I first heard it sung by a young man in our church. It is on the Quiet Heart CD by the Soundforth Singers that I’ve mentioned before as well as on the Let Christ be Lifted Up CD by Christy Galkin.

I searched for the lyrics online and couldn’t find them. It was written, or released in 2000, so it’s not new. It was written by Mike Harland and Cary Schmidt. I am not sure whether it is violating a copyright to put them here — I hope not (if so, someone let me know and I’ll take it down). It’s based on II Corinthians 12:9-10: “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. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.”

When living life for Jesus Christ become too hard a task,
When obedience means sacrifice that seems too much to ask;
That’s when I learn that my own strength isn’t really strength at all,
And I find rest in humbleness when I surrender all.

In my weakness He is strong;
In my need He leads me on.
When I come to the end of all I am,
And I place my trust in Him;
That’s when His strength begins —
In my weakness.

When failures in my human strength have weakened all my pride,
And ruined hopes in fallen dreams have crumbled me inside;
It’s then by grace I fin’lly see the strength of Jesus Christ,
His victory is real in me when weakness fills my life.

In my weakness He is strong;
In my need He leads me on.
When I come to the end of all I am,
And I place my trust in Him;
That’s when His strength begins —
In my weakness.

Update: I am going to close comments on this post because most of them now are asking about the sheet music, which I don’t have and don’t know where to find.

“He Who Would Valiant Be”

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I was thinking of this hymn by John Newton this morning. I first heard it when we attended Mt. Calvary Baptist…and I’ve never heard it anywhere else, even on the radio or on CDs. It’s a shame! It’s a great hymn.

He who would valiant be ’gainst all disaster,
Let him in constancy follow the Master.
There’s no discouragement shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent to be a pilgrim.

Who so beset him round with dismal stories
Do but themselves confound—his strength the more is.
No foes shall stay his might; though he with giants fight,
He will make good his right to be a pilgrim.

Since, Lord, Thou dost defend us with Thy Spirit,
We know we at the end, shall life inherit.
Then fancies flee away! I’ll fear not what men say,
I’ll labor night and day to be a pilgrim.

For teachers, at home or in a classroom

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I was going through some old files and came across these poems and one letter. With school starting, I thought some of you might enjoy them:
Dear Teacher,

Today I turn some of my little girl’s life over to you.

It is not easy for me because I held her so tight when she was newborn. I taught her and she felt the love of her family.
But today a new chapter in her life begins; for a few hours I will not be there to answer her questions, kiss her bruises, and to ‘save her’ from life’s little pains, but you will be there. Be kind for she is small. She has so much to give and so much to learn. So for those few hours when she is yours, remember: I held her tightly; I share her dreams; I share her hopes. Give her love and help her learn. When the day is over please send her home unharmed.

—Author Unknown

A Teacher’s Prayer

I wanted to teach my students how
To live this life on earth.
To face its struggles and its strife
And to improve their worth.

 

Not just the lesson in a book
Or how the rivers flow,
But how to choose the proper path
Wherever they may go.

 

To understand eternal truth
And know the right from wrong
And gather all the beauty of
A flower and a song.

 

For if I helped the world to grow
In wisdom and in grace
Then I feel that I have won
And I have filled my place.

 

And so I asked your guidance, God,
That I have done my part
For character and confidence
And happiness of heart.

 

 

The Miracle of the Beginning Reader

 

I wiggle and jiggle
And rock upon my chair.
I wiggle my loose tooth,
And I twirl a strand of hair.

 

I chew on several fingers
And I sometimes suck my thumb.
I tap the reading table
Like I’d play upon a drum.

 

I kick my foot with rhythm
Lose the place where I should look.
I rub my nose and clear my throat,
And sometimes drop my book.

 

I look outside the window
And I look down at the floor,
I pay very close attention
When someone’s at the door.

 

I close my eyes and rest my head;
My teacher’s heart must bleed.
But in spite of all of this
I’m learning how to read!

 

—Author Unknown