Fireproof

It has been out for a while, I know, but Esther and I have finally just sat down and watched the movie, Fireproof. It's funny to me how I am the one turning away to cry while she giggles at me. What a wonder of the truth in that movie. Anger, insensitivity, and disrespect may often be thought of in our relationship, and it is completely from me. Even in the almost two years of being together, I have changed. I don't always treat her in any way to show that I do love her. She has worked hard to make our relationship work and to be a help to me. We both want to live for the Lord Jesus Christ, but so often my selfishness gets in the way.
When we watched that movie, I kept seeing how I want to give myself to her, to do more for her. Maybe I have been too afraid to show emotion, thinking she might find it effeminit. Sometimes seeing someone else in the light they have been trying to draw you to can be seen clearly when you see how wrong someone else is, though they are being portrayed through a movie with exaggerated characters. I hope what I feel now can be appropriated to her even more. I truly love my cutiepie.

If You Only Knew My Jesus

I have a proposition for someone you should meet. His love is complete; where you fail, he will sustain; when you lie, his word proves that he cannot lie for it is impossible to do so. Maybe you have tried everything else, maybe you have tried to make your own way to heaven, but if you only knew my Jesus...
Please enjoy...

If You Only Knew My Jesus

If you only knew my Jesus,
you’d see that He is real, when
He brings you joy that comes from prayer
that He’s given to His children.
If you only knew my Jesus,
you’re life would be victorious.
Those sins that you’ve lived so long in
can flee by His name-glorious.
If you only knew my Jesus,
this one thing’d be true:
Temptations will still come along,
but He’d guide you right on through.
If you only knew my Jesus,
some things might be the same.
But by Christ’s power, I pray that those
be the things that bless His name.
If you only knew my Jesus,
the sweet times would be fun;
times spent in devotion
with the all-knowing Three-in-One.
If you only knew my Jesus,
obedience would be vital.
For talking to Him and listening close
will honor Him, and make your heart full.
If you only knew my Jesus,
you’d see why I tell you,
and hide not in a bushel
what the Lord’s blessed me to do.
If you only knew my Jesus,
you’d know why I smile.
‘Cause since I’ve known my risen Lord
this world’s gone out of style.
If you only knew my Jesus,
you’d see the curse of sin
has been taken all away,
and has been placed on Him.
If you only knew my Jesus,
this smile could be yours.
For you would have the peace to know
you’ll be walking Heaven’s shores.
If you only knew my Jesus,
I’ll keep on telling you
the joy, and peace, and power to know
that God’s Spirit’s inside you.
If you only knew my Jesus,
you’d find His comfort sweet.
For salvation comes to those who trust
In His work-it’s done-complete.

He Came...

It has been a while since I have last written on my blog. My apologies. I have been trying to write everyday, but it seems that my lack of writing at home has caused me to stay off of my blog. I claim no excuses. I will try to do better, honest :)
Please enjoy...

He came…

Since long ago, it has not been
for one like it to show–
a star that brightened yonder sky
with it’s fantastic glow.
The shepherds just one night a year;
they’d lie not as the door,
but watch their sheep all through the night
t’was the eve the child was born.
He did not come with trumpets
or with seraph’s all around.
He did not come with jewels
or with kingly robe or crown.
This tiny child, this Savior, JESUS–
he came for all to see.
The baby Jesus came as with a shepherd’s company.
No thronging crowds, no joyful choirs
to stand, and cheer, and sing–
just a stable inn of lowly birth
t’was fit for this king.
You see the birth of Jesus came
much like his death, you know.
This Jesus, he was born to die
to shed his crimson flow.
The shepherds watched,
the people came
to tell glad tidings great.
But it’s not just his birth we cheer,
but his death we celebrate.

We Hold These Truths to be Self-evident

With the flying of the flag to show forth freedom in our great nation, with the lowering of it to commemorate the fallen, with the cry of swift words when the country is in need of leadership, with the speeches of great men, with all these we stand for our country.

America'a greatness was never before marked by it's grand displays of idolatry though as it is today. Today, we no longer call our nation a Christian nation, though many may still hold to the idea of going to heaven because they aren't from a heathen nation. Explain that one to me. You go because your nation, not you as an individual, stood for God and his word thousands of years ago? It's beyond me. Yet our country has always used famous quotes and lyrics to build up its courage to press on and win the glorious day, though I'm not sure we know what that day is anymore.

From our country's Declaration of Independence, we find the phrase, "we hold these truths to be self evident that all men are created equal." May I stray a bit from this idea, and run off on a tangent just a bit. Our country, full of different types of men and women, all not given the same opportunities, not given the same lot in life, have said that we would be a nation of peoples who live under God's rules. While we play our religious games, and toss our balls of works around, we try to appease God with that which he has forbidden. May we realize our frame, that we are but dust, repent before a holy God, and trust him as he has designed our lives to be lived. We certainly do hold something to be self-evident. Maybe this poem will spark a thought or two in your mind. Feel free to add a comment of something that may strike a cord in your heart.
Please enjoy...

We Hold These Truths to be Self-Evident

We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created,
and God is no respecter of persons.

We hold these truths to be self-evident that we have removed this Creator from our schools,
and God will not hold men guiltless that take his name in vain.

We hold these truths to be self-evident that the Bible has been removed from our society,
and God holds his word above his name, and so should we.

We hold these truths to be self-evident that God made every man’s conscience to know him,
and men have chosen to expel him from their knowledge.

We hold these truths to be self-evident that God is true,
and by denying him his place in our lives, we are lying to everybody of this truth.

We hold these truths to be self-evident that the most important construct of every man
is that he is created, not that he is equal.

We hold these truths to be self-evident for the ones who kept the word of the Lord through hardship,
yet so soon do we forsake the way of the Lord and turn to idols in our ease.

We hold these truths to be self-evident that apart from God, man is vanity,
for that we need this God to exist, how then do we resist him?

We hold these truths to be self-evident because the heavens declare the glory of God,
making us to be without excuse.

The Potter's Ardor

Hope this one isn't too hard to understand. Go to Romans 9:20 where it says, "Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?" Add to that a verse like Isaiah 45:9 which says, "Woe unto him that striveth with his Maker! Let the potsherd strive with the potsherds of the earth. Shall the clay say to him that fashioneth it, What makest thou? or thy work, He hath no hands?" This is the place I am coming from in this poem. God, as a potter, in a metaphorical sense, tries his children, tests his children, puts pressure on his children, not to hurt us or destroy us, but to strengthen us and cause us to trust his gentle hand.

The potter may need to put more water to a lump if it gets too stiff. When hardened before entering the fire, it can always be broken, crushed, and pressured with water to make it usable again. It is never a perfect lump, but it may be usable in God's hand.

The fire only tries the Christian. A life without trials and fire brings a soft, weak, fickle Christian who has not learned to follow the guiding touch from an All-knowing master. Imagine putting a soft vessel, not yet put to the fire, on your mantle. It would be quite strange, and certainly would not sustain any pressure put to it by unfriendly elements. I would much rather be tried, and go through temptations knowing God is faithful, and will not allow me to go through anything that will be too much for me to take when walking in the Spirit(II Corinthians 10:13-14). May I be transformed to the image of God and not the ways of this world (Romans 12:1-2).
Please enjoy...

The Potter’s Ardor

He took to his wheel, and cast a mold.
What treasures soon would he unfold!
Not wasting but a single spec
He noticed not the waning threat.
For with the peddle flailing ‘bout
Accurate structure he would strive
To render wonder; tall and stout
Subject musings to contrive.
Every touch and every poke
Might mean the ending of the strand.
Trying with sensual touch to stroke
With honor and command.
Turning away, fighting with,
Sending forceful passive flakes;
Whatever the meaning of its wish
The potter soon will certain break.
Watering with the still intent
Of some consistency to be filled.
Turning, pressing, folding, bent
Never breaking though his will.
With long a warring and a fray
To come to the ardor of this crier
Will come desirable animate clay
Through the trying of the fire.

Come to Jesus

This poem is the cry of my heart to those who have heard the truth, but they still won't turn to Jesus. It could be that we haven't taken the time to pray in earnest for this lost and dying world. We certainly don't preach to them as though we have the understanding that they are making a grave mistake. Oh that we would realize the truth of hell, and the reality of heaven. May this poem be a reminder to all that "no man liveth to himself," and that we are to live with eternity in mind; not just ours, but all those who still need proof that it is worth trusting Jesus.
Please enjoy...

Come to Jesus

When standing off on a shore of doubt,
we often find cares taking hold.
In struggles, we take the oft followed path
where sorrow leaves us feeling cold.
We trust in ourselves,
we don’t stop to rest,
we forsake the One who’s on high.
And in our distress, He calls out with love,
and still we heed not His cry.
Hastening on in the cares of this life,
we wonder why things look so bleak,
while the God of on high is calling with love;
if we’d listen, we could hear Him speak.
Numberless blessings are waiting inside
a heart that is broken and contrite,
yet we’d stay on our course of destruction and death
‘stead of turning to Jesus from spite.
Unless you see that the cliff is ahead,
you’ll fall in the crevasse below,
but look there are signs, there are people there standing
to tell you the safe way to go.
They’re begging, “please listen to God’s tender call.
He’s bidding you come take his hand.
Don’t trust in your way; it will lead you to death,
but this way is God’s promised land.”
Your choice is to follow your foolish intents,
to take the road you’ve been before.
Don’t stretch off that way though, you’ll see that it is
just waiting at Death’s lieing door.
But God in His mercy has called you along,
though you’ve rejected His pleading.
Consider forgiveness and trust now in Him;
He’s faithful, so just trust His leading.

Are We There Yet?

Here's another poem I wrote 2 years ago. I wanted to send this yesterday, but didn't have internet access. The only thing that keeps me from looking at death as a tragedy is when that person goes home to meet the Lord.

Consider the idea of a YOUNG PERSON sitting in the backseat of a vehicle, going with their parents on a long journey to a place they have been looking forward to being at for some time.

Now compare to that, an OLDER PERSON, not that it has to be an older person, who has been on their journey through life for some time now. They know Jesus Christ as their Savior. They have heard of the joys of heaven, and all the blessings as well, and though they have never been there, they still anticipate the wonder of what it will be like. In each regard they would say the same thing on the way... "ARE WE THERE YET?"
Please enjoy...

Daniel Pollard
Poetry
12/7/07
A poem in memory of Grandpa

Are We There Yet?

You spoke of how you wanted here
to see your Savior, Christ.
You couldn’t wait this pain to end,
and feel with His great might.
From the end of your days,
you knew the path
would soon bring joy to you;
so thoughts were often on this hope,
and words of body new.
Where your mind was stayed,
it was quite clear;
you spoke of that which was quite dear.
Like a little child wondering when
we’d get to our place sweet…
Inpatient til’ the day would come
and Jesus there you’d greet.
It could not come soon enough,
if ever time could waver.
But now I know that you are glad,
for all God’s wonders you savor.

Horace Joseph Pollard

Two years ago today, my grandfather passed away. He was a great man. To be honest with you, I feared him greatly. He was a loving man, but he had some pretty strict standards. I could write for hours on end about how much I respected him, and also about how many things about him simply frustrated me. You may still have your grandparents around. Please don't neglect the time you have with them.

I loved, and still love my grandfather, but I would never desire to have him back here; not for the fact that he was a hard man, but because his faith, as he said, was in Jesus Christ. If that is the case, then I am looking forward to being in the same place as he. Why would I want him to come back to this sin-filled earth from the glory he is enjoying. He gets to be with Jesus. Man, I can't wait to have that!
Please enjoy...


Daniel Pollard
Poetry
12/6/07
-A poem in memory of Grandpa
(The day after Grandpa passed away)

Horace Joseph Pollard

In times past, and there were many,
I could never find the words to say how much I care.
But when I saw your journey through my life
I cannot cease to remember the cause for which to joy.
Your hands, though often clenched, were open all the same.
Hollowed palms with enough to hold,
That I might receive your hug.
It may have seemed you as a hardened man,
Yet I could talk and find this one of whom there is shining light.
Grace was in your fingers when you had me smell your fist.
Never would I make that mistake again.
The times of joy and laughter were brought about
By your love for family.
Instruction was your gift, and you let us know it often.
Breaking often where your knees from holding boys over it.
A traveling milkman with a story to tell, and now…
It may be weird to not have you here,
But to know of your place, which you have received in glory,
Can never be considered odd.
Your faith was in your Savior,
And to that fact you held truth.
And now I know that I will see you again;
Not as a twinkle in my eye,
Or as a shiver in my spine,
Or as a ripple on the waves,
But as you are known in Heaven;
As a child of the King.
And this is why I can smile.
Praise Jesus name!

The god of Make-Believe

Many of the poems I send over here are written in the past. In an unusual case, I am sending an unedited poem that I just wrote today. This poem is in contrast to the one I previously did called, "God is Life" which is about the love and all-knowing nature of God.

Many people, in many places, have many different ideas about God. Some believe there isn't a God; some believe in the God of the Bible; and some even make up their own beliefs about God, and think because they believe in a God that their views definately have to be correct.

The problem with this last view, the one I will be writing about, is that they take their opinion as fact, and dismiss what the perfect, holy Bible has to say. This poem takes the latter view, and shall we say, throws out all opinion but gives them the Biblical view. Ere' I say, the problem one may find with this poem is that it has no Bible verses in it, just Bible truth plain and simple.
Please enjoy


Daniel Pollard
Poetry
12/4/09

The god of Make-Believe

This god you made up,
with a ‘love only’ mentality;
this god that will not take away
the joy from man for enjoying sin more;
this god that will not give the sentence of punishment
for disobeying his command;
this god that sits on a throne of red and green
with tinsel and bows, and hands out candy;
this god that lets men worship however they want;
this god that couldn’t defeat the devil
because he would never hurt anything;
this god that never wrestles with the hearts of men;
this god that would never judge anyone
for the simple reason that everyone would be doomed;
this god that would never create a hell,
let alone send someone there;
this god that can’t be what the Bible says of him
or he would be politically incorrect.
This make-believe god can’t fix the problem of sin in your heart,
but the God of the Bible can.
This make believe god can’t make retribution for sin,
But the God of the Bible is a God is a God of wrath.
A god that men make up
is a god that glosses over sin and righteousness,
and accepts every man,
but the God of the Bible respects no man’s person.
It seems there is a big difference.
I’d rather be shocked at the wrath of God now,
and turn from my sin,
than wait till it is eternally too late to find out how wrong I was.

God is Life

Here's a short one. The idea to this blog may not be very clear yet, but because I love to write, I want to give others the opportunity to read some of the stuff I have written. Feel free to say if it was garbage. Sure, people say when stuff is to their liking, but it is rare when someone cuts down the writer, and says they couldn't understand it, or even if it was shallow. Please feel free. Keep me from the sin of pride. Too much praise is unbalanced.

One reason why I love Esther, among the millions, is that she is not afraid to let me know if something needs work. She, a close second to God, is my great inspiration. I love her very much.
Please enjoy...

God Is Life

God is life, God is love,
Omniscient author from above.
Such a question of His being
Something still my eyes not seeing.
All the fancies of this world
Loving hands have all unfurled.
What is my life without Him
Cares, desires fading dim.
All care for sparrows of the skies
Never closing are His eyes.
Before this sentence e’er began
My thoughts He knew, each breath, each ban.
God is life, God is love,
Omniscient author from above.

The Author's explanation to Innocence

Yesterday, I put up a poem called Innocence. Today, I am going to try to explain in as well as I can. I'll get right into it...

1st off - starting with the title, Innocence, and down through the rest of the poem, each line has exactly 9 letters. Count them if you don't believe me. I was writing this poem from the point of view of a 9 year old boy, right at the time in life when you are no longer a little no-nothing child, but yet not a sophisticated (ha!!!) teenager.
The boy is watching another child, swing on a swing, not just any swing, but their personal swing. The child on the swing is genderless (sometimes it changes depending on my mood).

The child on the swing, soars through the air and jumps into a pile of leaves (yellow and reds). Guess what season it is? The season when everything starts to die. Yup, Halloween. No just messing.

"Your blank eyes soar broad, faintly in the clouds and back in view again." Now the child gets back on the swing, after jumping off and landing in the leaves. As the boy watches the other child from the ground, the explanation he gives is of him going high (faintly in the clouds), and then coming back down (and back in view again). With the child on their way back down, the boy is getting frustrated. Ready to see this?

"Stop flyin’ on my swing- it’s my turn to shatter this sound barrier." The child from the ground has expressed his desire to see the other child get off HIS swing. See the controlling factor of the boy? He can't have somebody else enjoying themself on HIS swing. The sound barrier is simply to show that he knows something about going fast. He's heard of Mach 1 and loves to imagine himself going fast. He is past the point of "chase me, Daddy" and thinking he is still faster than Dad, but has not gotten the childish sensation out of his head to imagine himself being the fastest in the world, even if it is swinging from a plastic swing.

"Do you see the changes in the sky? I am twinkling now under a star." Have you ever stretched back in the swing, and leaned back as far as you can, holding on to the chains with a tight grip while your hair practically touches the ground. Something tells me that I'm not the only one who has. He is stretched out, looking upside down as he looks behind him at the open sky of darkness. But the light-headed feeling he has almost makes him feel starry, and dreamy, and he is the one twinkling. Picture the little birdies above his head. Did you notice that? Oh, maybe I just added that for some fun.

"As it’s flashed in as I squint, throwing a blackness to the back of my brain." The starry, hazy feeling he has is starting to make him light-headed, causing him to have a pain in his head (the squinting). Now do you see what the blackness in his brain is about? When a child feels pain, what is their first reaction, especially when it is something they have never experienced before? They think they are about to die. Now I am not saying that this is every child, but many will start freaking out at the sight of blood, a weird bump, a rash, etc. Why? They don't understand what happened, so it MUST be fatal.

"Forcing me to reach in-to deep dry grass." Notice that this is an involuntary action. The boy has no control over what happens. It is not another person that forces him off the swing into the grass, but the feeling in his head, and the squinting from the pain that has caused him to lose his balance. If you want, you could say that the other child, who for a while in this poem has stepped off the scenes, is the one that forced him off by pushing him, and that would work, but that wasn't what was going through my mind. Still, feel free to interprite it as you will.

"As my sight goes dim, waking up, lying on this Earth, flat with a deafening laugh thru the ground." Now the effects of his actions are taking hold. He is lying on the grass, in pain, lost his sight(momentarily) from hitting his head, because that's the first thing that is going to hit the ground when you are practically lying over the seat upside-down. His position: flat on the Earth; his eyes: shut. he is hurt, but through all of this, he still can hear the sound of the other child, the one that he told to get off his swing, that is laughing at him. That is the deafening laugh. The child that he told to get off the swing has watched him hurt himself, and they are loving it.

What about naming the poem Vindication. Nah, I like this title. Here's why...

The children, though innocent in theory, still have the nature as human beings to enjoy other people's demise. I felt it to be a fitting title to such a weighty poem. So much joy can come from being a child, but oh, we still remember the times when someone laughted at our pain. I am not trying to be sinister in any regard. Just think of childhood. We go back in our mind to the days when everything was innocent, and what did we say? I can't wait til I'm older! As children, we learn lessons that we soon forget. So many people hate being a kid, but when they look back on life, it almost seems that they would long for the days of innocence again only to forget the many things that caused us to loathe it so much.

Innocence

Something I learned through writing school is a very important key to life. At least I think it is. Just because you don't understand something, doesn't make it stupid or worthless. Poetry is definately that way. Literature classes are full of speculation to what the author was trying to say in his/her story or poem. I have always found the Bible to be an amazing book for many reasons: one, being that it is perfect (I have tried to find errors, but can't (neither has any pip-squeak professor), and though there are many other reasons I can say, this other reason will be sufficient to help you to understand what I really wanted to say in the first place. The other reason the Bible is simply amazing to me is because we have the author of it to explain every detail if we would just go to him, study the words he gave us, and trust Him for the truth of it in utter perfection.

The benefit you have to this blog is that some poems may cause you to scratch your head, but you have the creator of the writings right here if you need me.

In this case, I will give you the poem today, and then tomorrow I will try to explain what was going through my pee-sized head when I wrote it. Please don't look at this as the only way it can be interpreted. As a writer, this can be just as much of a hinderance as a benefit. Please don't make that statement to be true. I know this is not a poem about God, but something about it always makes me smile.
Please enjoy...


Innocence

You, soarin’
in the yard
on my swing,
flyin’ away
ripping in-
to a pile of
yellow and
reds. Your
blank eyes
soar broad,
faintly in
the clouds
and back in
view again.
Stop flyin’
on my swing-
it’s my turn
to shatter
this sound
barrier. Do
you see the
changes in
the sky? I am
twinkling
now under a
star as it’s
flashed in
as I squint,
throwing a
blackness
to the back
of my brain,
forcing me
to reach in-
to deas it’s
flashed in
as I squint,
throwing a
blackness
to the back
of my brain,
forcing me
to reach in-
to deep dry
grass as my
sight goes
dim, waking
up, lying on
this Earth,
flat with a
deafening
laugh thru
the ground.

Welcomed

This poem is for all those who have been in a church, and felt it was nicer going than coming. So many people boast of having a friendly assembly, but if everyone was like them, you would never know it. Props to those who actually try to show people that being a Christian should be evidenced in a friedly face, a smile, and a 'better than what the world can offer' type attitude. To those people who have been in church for years and still have the same 'who cares about you' attitude, may this poem be a warning of how annoying you are to other Christians. Please stop hurting the cause of Christ. Love Daniel:)

WELCOMED

I walk to the door
of your less-than-graceful assembly;
no greetings satisfy my ears;
only the stinging sound
of the nearby church bell in the corridor
as is smacks the sides of my brain
in a fluid left and right motion,
yelling for me to distance myself from the premises.
It’s screams open my pores,
howling through the fog
and the dripping
coming from the overhanging roof.
As I enter, eyes grimace for me to leave.
The organ flouts out a sound
of condescending discrimination.
The seat I take has scurrying lunatics
who file to the other side.
The tiny girl’s eyes grow big
as I plop down next to her mommy.
Shoulders turn away from me;
heads, from in front, glaze back
to see what has just intruded.
The usher walks to the opening of the pew,
stops and gestures
for me to take the packet from his hand,
never saying a word.
I open it and read:
Welcome to our friendly church…

Thanks taken

I wrote this poem yesterday, following the great food and time with Esther's family. I am so thankful for Esther. I love her very much. I have so much to be thankful, but I would be lying if I told you that I am as thankful as I should be.

As the Bible says in Romans 8:12, " Therefore, brethren, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live after the flesh," I know that if it were not for God, I would not have any blessings. If you read this verse as it comes down through the chapter, you would notice that God is dealing with men about how to live unto him, not through the flesh, but through the Spirit. With all Christ has done for us, we are in his debt. We shouldn't receive gifts from him, but he should receive offerings of praise through a heart of gratitude, knowing where we deserve to be, and that is in Hell. Were it not for his compassion, his mercy, his grace, his justice, his righteousness, I would have overlooked my sinful condition and neglected the God that died for me. Thank God for his longsuffering, and for the many opportunities I was given to hear the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, and I definately want to thank him for what he has done in saving me eternally.

This poem speaks of the neglect this country has for God. We have named the holiday
Thanksgiving, but how seldom do we even think of all God has done for us and all we have to be thankful for. Before Thanksgiving even comes, stores are gearing up for Christ-mass, streets are lined with messages of gifts and buying.

So many church organizations are spreading the message to "Keep Christ in Christmas." I don't hate people for celebrating Christmas, I just wish Christians, first of all, would stop following the path of the world and stop taking God out of Thanksgiving and especially out of their churches. How soon do we forget what God has done. Please don't simply celebrate a day. Remember to give God the glory and thanksgiving for all he has done. One day of giving thanks, just because it is the national holiday, can't suffice, but in all the things that you want to get done over these days, whether it be for the Thanksgiving day, or in preparations for Christ-mass, please remember to not take away the thanks that God deserves.

Please enjoy...

Daniel Pollard
Poetry
11/26/09

Thanks taken

Right after the time of family gathering
and sitting around the table,
stuffing ourselves till the memories
of ever having that grumbling feeling
are buried deep under a tundra
of mashed potatoes, and corn, and turkey,
separated by an hour of desserts
we say we eat just once a year,
but they’ll be back again in just a month.
We gather under the realm of thanks,
and remember all we have for that fleeting moment
while the turkey is roasting,
and the stomachs are reeling
at the thought of grandma’s pumpkin pie.
Something happens to our memories
as the day turns to moonlit crest.
Our thanks flees away into the swinging doors
with ‘that’s mine’ written all over it
in the season of asking for more
from a fat scotch-drowned impersonator.
Soon, lists are made of gifts we don’t deserve,
gifts we are so unthankful for
come through a season that has a droopy shade of red and green
with sprinkled snowflakes covering it.
We spread the streets with wooden soldiers
and forget the thanks before the past season dawns.
Each time the thanks gets shorter, and the eating gets more.
We forget the God that gave us plenty,
and set to the couch to watch the glory’s of men
paraded down broadway and punted from the endzone.
We forsake our thanks, and bring in a season of hope and cheer
with cursing and bitterness ringing in the holiday festivities.
We are so rich in bounty,
yet so quiet in our praise of the Almighty.
Something has drained our hearts of thanksgiving,
and giving it the title to be remembered but once a year.
If we, being so full, forget the One who gave,
feel no surprise when he retricts the blessings he has given.

My very 1st poem ever written about God

So this may not be the first poem I have ever written, but it is the very first poem I wrote about my Savior, thus making it the most important one to me.

I would say that I would have been about 15, heading home from NC on our church bus after a week at youth camp in New Manna Baptist Church.

I particularly remember having been hit hard by all the preaching and made many decisions this year. With all the excitement, and all the "I will give up that" and "I will not turn back this time" thoughts going on in past years, this trip brought about the desire to not give in to the sway of the world, and squelch all that I had made decisions about for God.

In another attempt to stand firm for God, I feared my life having already been so wasted, and at times very useless. I thought at times how easy it would be to stop trying to live for God, and that I might just as easily give up. After all, my problems are so much bigger than everybody else's. But if I don't give in to the world, and to all that has been drawing me in; and if I don't give up my life to just be another wasted piece of nothing on the world's map of human drivel, then I would have to take the hardest route of all and surrender to my God.

Looking back over these 10 or so years, my self-reliance, which has gotten me nowhere actually has been hard, but only when the desire to give up God for my own understanding starts to creep in. Sure, life can be a pain, but I have to admit that when I let God have his way, he always does a much better job than I ever can.

So here it is...
Hope you don't laugh at my attempt to say something worth while so hard that you cry


Giving Up

As my eyes opened this morning,
I rose to sorrow, fear, and failure.
For what cause do I go on,
And why do I care?
Then I looked to the future
And saw my life as nothing I could control anymore.
I no longer care
And at times I get distracted:
Doing wrong and hurting others and myself.
So I made a firm decision;
I’m giving up.
If trials come I will not fight or struggle.
Through the burden I won’t be dismayed.
I’m just not going to try.
So there, I give you what will please me.
Satisfaction soon and life will truly be lived to its fullest.
Days went by, trials came, and still my conscience served me well.
Til’ on my knees I fell and weeping I did pray,
LORD, I’m giving up
For without you life is in disarray.
Not trying, caring, serving,
For it hurts you as well as me,
So when I give up Lord,
I pray I give up life to thee.