6/13/21 Through 6/19/21

 6/13/21 Through 6/19/21

Sunday 

Plant Your seed Lord deep within.

Keep my heart and soul from sin.

Help me bear much fruit for Thee,

A meek and pliant, docile, tree.

May I give both shade and rest

To every traveler and guest.

That all may know it was your seed

Which made this lowly one succeed.

One day I'll stand alone on trial,

With no excuse or thin denial

To cover what in truth I've been,

A man that's far too close to sin.

But You can trim the boastful bough

And make it one of love somehow,

Despite its sin and ill pursuit,

That, in the end, would bear much fruit.

Monday

An eye for eye, or tooth for tooth,

No longer rules the day.

For Jesus showed the way, in truth,

To listen and obey.

To hear the Father calling now

Responding every time,

To yield and let His love allow

To break the paradigm.

To all the world, to be absurd,

A fool in many ways.

The least of all to be preferred, 

But joyful all our days.

The Spirit comes as peace and fire,

As wind and morning dew.

To quench a thirst and set afire

A love in me and you.

So yield when ere the chance arrives

To love a little more.

The Paraclete will change the lives

Of those who will explore.

Tuesday

I stand in awe of how You love,

And ask the same of me.

So far the way of God above,

What mortal eye can see.

A love for all, those bad and good

Despite their sinful way.

A love to imitate we should

For enemies each day.

Wednesday

Forgetting of the self is hard,

No matter what I do.

My time with You is often scarred

With thoughts of me, not You.

Myself so much, I like to see

In always rosy light,

But then it is, it comes to me,

I cower in the fight.

The peace and joy surrounding You

Comes not the least from me,

But when my gaze is long and true,

It's You alone I see.

I wish to get, and not to give,

To find the easy way,

And look beyond the ones who live

In poverty each day.

My eyes be cleared, dear Lord, I pray, 

And ears be opened wide,

To see my chance to love each day,

And do away with pride.

But whence it comes, I'll never know.

For then I'll only see

It's God alone who makes things grow,

And nothing comes from me.

Thursday

He came, the Father, to reveal,

The deaf and blind to also heal.

That all might see what God had planned

And listen well to understand.

His kingdom here on earth can be

Akin to our eternity.

Where love supreme, eternal, reigns,

Or one of everlasting pains.

If we would trust the Father's love

Our world would be as that above,

But if we think we better know,

The world we get is one below.

So feed upon His daily bread

The flesh and blood by which we're fed.

Forgive and find the peace beyond

Alas, as heav'n on earth has dawned.

Friday

No treasure but the Lord alone,

Conflicted by the things I own.

What end will all the chattel be,

To glory Him, or glory me?

If the former, carry on,

But if the latter, then be gone.

All the stores accomplish naught

If hoarding things is what is sought.

The talent loaned must be repaid

With interest by the things it made.

A buried coin will bring no gain,

But only poverty and shame.

Saturday

In my weakness strength appears.

In the quiet humble ears

Hear the voice of One who saves,

And raises dead from lonely graves.

The thorn that points to all I need

Is given to my pride impede,

And show that grace has ample clout

To conquer every fear or doubt.

The birds without a barn or store

Have all they need and plenty more.

The flowers in their bright array

Are finely dressed for every day.

So rest assured, the Father knows

Of all you need, in all your woes.

With grace you more than just survive,

With grace, you flourish, bloom, and thrive.