CBSB Poetry

In Your Hands by Deb Williams

2008-01-20T00:19:00.000-08:00

In Your Hands

Jesus,
You are my Lord,
You are my King.
You are my God,
Ruler of everything.
Every breath I take,
Everything I am.
Is only of worth,
When it's in Your hands?

I stand in utter awe,
At the wonder of Your grace.
As You teach to me Your law,
And seek me face to face.

It's so hard to understand,
That no matter what I do,
You still reach out Your hand,
To bring me back to You.

Please forgive me when I wander,
And from You I begin to stray.
When Your love for me I squander,
And Your grace I turn away.

Words fall short of the thankfulness,
That I feel within my heart.
As You give to me Your love,
And a brand new place to start.

By Deb Williams

"Jesus is the Gift" by Holley Gertb

2007-12-23T00:21:00.000-08:00

I found this poem on jesusisthegift.com

"Jesus is the Gift"

By Holley Gertb

Jesus is the gift that perfectly fits every heart

And it is with His love that all celebration starts.

We rejoice in Him as we remember His birth

And thank God for sending His only Son to earth.

His life led from a manger to a cross on a hill

Where He faithfully followed His Father’s perfect will.

He freely laid down everything so that we could live,

And there is no greater treasure anyone could give.

Like a scarlet ribbon His love wrapped around the cross

And He offered it to us all at the greatest cost.

So each time that we give we remember what He’s done

And honor the perfect Gift – God’s one and only son.

"That Sinner" by JAWorley

2007-12-22T23:53:00.000-08:00

I wrote this as a song, but songs often count as poetry.

I’m that sinner,
The one from the garden they speak of,
Doing that which is wrong,
Although I know what is right

I’m that sinner,
That God tried to warn,
The one that didn’t listen,
The one that is cursed

I’m that sinner,
The same self-righteous one every day,
Thinking only of myself,
For this the price I will pay

I’m that sinner,
Yes you know the one,
The one Jesus died for,
So I could be right with God

I’m that sinner,
The one who is now free,
Free of my debt,
Because God wanted me to be

-JW.

"Dying" by JAWorley

2007-12-15T19:51:00.000-08:00

Poem: Dying
By: JAWorley
For Christ

Die hard, but die saved.
If you’re going to die, do it well,
It doesn’t do on the past to dwell.
Living, loving, laughing, learning,
Sometimes to do this you have to fail.
Through this, let Christ be your guide,
So in the end, you can stand tall, and say,
I died, but at least I died saved.
It doesn’t do to build your house on sand,
When you can build it on a rock.
Why duct tape your soul to fix it,
When somebody already did that with nails?
In the end, I want to say,
I died with Christ holding my hand,
And not,
I died because it rained,
and I built my house on sinking sand.
In the end your house, and furniture,
And Body will burn regardless,
But with Christ you have a hand to hold on to in that firestorm.
With him you are pulled free from the blaze,
Without him you sink into the endless depths of insanity, inhumanity, death;
Christ can pull you free from all of that.
Stubbornness and Pride are as bad as the sand,
They only keep you from grabbing onto that hand,
The one that extends down to the deepest depths that you’ve dug yourself into,
And cries, “Please take hold, I’ll lift you up.”
Pride makes you pull your hand back, and say, “I don’t need a life preserver,”
even though you’re drowning.
Stubbornness makes you say, “I’ll do it on my own,” even though you’re stuck behind a locked door in that burning house, unable to get out on your own.
Why not take the key that hand offers down to you? The only key ever made.
Right now, this very second, if you’re reading this,
No matter what bad, unspeakable thing you’ve done,
It’s not too late to be saved.
There’s not a soul in hell that doesn’t believe,
Do you really want to be one of them because you waited too long?
Now is the time, here is the place.
You don’t have to drop to your knees, or hide your face.
Just call upon Christ, ask for his hand,
Tell him, “I need you, sinner that I am.”
Thank him for nailing your sin to the cross,
So that you could have a key to eternal life…
It’s time to stop wallowing in your self-pity and strife.
God made a way, and all you have to say is,
“Please forgive me Lord, I have faith.”
There is a place, a house built on solid stone,
Waiting just for you.
Let Christ take you there when it’s time.
Holding his hand in the end, saved you will die.
It’s ok to die hard, but die well, and die saved.
Accept the hand, and the only key; the one Christ made.

-JW.

"Christians" by Carol Wimmer/Maya Angelou

2007-12-14T21:43:00.000-08:00

I really like this poem entitled "Christians," and I thought I'd share it with you. I always thought it was by Maya Angelou, but other sources say it is written by Carol Wimmer. Whoever the author, it is a beautiful poem.

"Christians"