3/5/23 Through 3/11/23

 3/5/23 Through 3/11/23

Sunday

Walking to the mount of Tabor

Three alone with Him that day

Christ invites them there to savor

Just a taste of Heaven's way.

Hear the voice then fall and tremble

Fearing for so many sins

Yet a hope we soon resemble

Who for us redemption wins.

Monday

Lord help me measure well today

Just what to keep or give away

Let my measure's bounty be

In your time returned to me

Don't give up on me I pray

Show me grace again today

Grace to turn from sin to you

Grace to love in all I do.

Tuesday

Lord make my motives good and pure

That love in me would long endure

Bestill the pride that tempts my soul

To make the earthly gain my goal

Too often good is done for pride

Acknowledgment and envy plied

To place the "me" above the rest

And all the blessings so divest.

Lord, let me see the body whole

And so accept my little role

Rejoicing in another's good

As how each humble member should.

For parts more elegant than mine

Are all attached to one true Vine

And loved beyond what they deserve

So help me simply humbly serve.

Wednesday

Somehow let my service be

A pleasing offering to Thee

A sweet aroma rising high

The outcast poor, to dignify.

A place of honor here below

Not likely that I'll ever know

But let the Cross my anchor be

And light beyond then clearly see

Each path, unto the Cross shall lead

For there the sacrificial seed

Of love is sown to mend the heart

And all the grace of God impart.

Thursday

Lazarus, a myth they say

Then go about their merry way

And pay no heed to those in pain

And only seek the more to gain

The "more" they seek is none but straw

And this, the pittied rich man saw

Too late to turn and make amends

And so is how his story ends

But none alive are yet that far

And mercy meets them where they are

To welcome back a wayward stray

And give them life in endless day.

Though Mercy will not force a hand

We choose the life or choose the damned

The poor are those the latter choose

And all they thought they had they lose.

Friday

A vineyard granted for our good 

But we must act the way we should

Returning all the Master's due

And proving us a grateful crew

For he that hoards what lands produce

Will never taste the greater juice

The wine poured out as blood for all

Who answer well the Master's call

Saturday

A wayward son, a faithful one

Yet both their Father grieve

For love desired but not acquired

When "things" are those we cleave

The love He seeks, in stillness speaks

With folly clear beheld

Repentant one the truer son

Than one who love witheld