7/22/18 Through 7/28/18

7/22/18 Through 7/28/18

Sunday

The Shepherd raised for wand'ring sheep

Their safety and their guard to keep

To lead them to the valley green

Where their true love, at last, is seen.

Take pity on the scattered brood

And give them everlasting food

That in Your valley they may find

Enduring love, and peace of mind.

Monday

Once again we're called to love,

To listen and obey

To listen to the prophets of

What God Himself would say.

No sacrifice or offering

Can call His favor down

But doing right and humbling

Is where He may be found

No sign but Jonah shall they see

When Judgment Day arrives

The Ninevites will judges be,

That day when all arise.

For at the Word they changed their way,

Repenting one and all

Returning to the light of day

When e're they heard the call.

Tuesday

One meal each day is all I need

One meal of love, on which I feed

Your presence in the bread and wine,

This satisfying food of mine.

But, oh so many fail to see

The truth within this mystery

The love and mercy shown to man

When we but walk within His plan.

Wednesday

We hold within these earthen jars

The treasure of His many scars

That far surpassing those that hold,

All men may know the precious gold.

Too many decorate the pot

To look like treasure, when it's not

The treasure in this earthly thing

Is love in patient suffering.

Thursday

The parable we understand

In many varied ways

Through story as the Savior planned

He clears the milky haze.

It finds in each a special key

Unlocking deep within

The need to love, and clearly see

How often that we sin.

The Chaff and Wheat, or Wasteful Son

Illumine to the eye

The awful things that we have done,

How we deserve to die.

But also how his mercy flows

And patience stays his hand

Till every sinner surely knows

They've heard His clear command.

Grant me the gift of speaking well

And offering to all

A message that the stories tell

By answering His call.

Friday

What kind of ground do I provide?

In me, how is the word applied?

Do I receive it as I should,

With all its power understood?

Or does it sprout at once in me,

But wither like some rootless tree?

And is it choked by thorns of greed

Exaggerating what I need?

Perhaps some day I'll till the ground

And then, a fertile place be found,

Within this poor and destitute

Where seeds of love can bear their fruit.

A fool, to be so cavalier

To think that day not drawing near.

When told, "Produce the Master's due"

And I have none to show to You.

So till my heart and break the clods

Of selfishness and other gods.

Create a soil rich and bold

That bears for You a hundredfold.

Saturday

In every garden sown good seed

And given water that they need,

The tender shoots of grain will rise

To yield a fruitful harvest prize.

But there, as well, is sown the weed

To try and overtake good seed

So higher must the grain now rise

To find the light from sunny skies.

For weeds attempt to block the rays,

Concerned with none but selfish ways,

And bear no fruit like useful grain,

But full of only showy feign.

At harvest time the sickle wields

Them both within the full-grown fields.

Weeds are bundled there and burned,

But sweet rewards the wheat has earned.