9/8/24 Through 9/14/24

 9/8/24 Through 9/14/24

Sunday

Alone and empty in the world

No sound of seas or wind that swirled

No voice to share my heart's desire

No chance of singing in the choir

But then You came and touched my ears

No sound in them for many years

Until Your cry, "Be opened" heard

And now each morn a precious word.

A tongue, at last, that now can sing

The praise of such a mighty King

And share my heart with other men

Then offer praise to God again.

Monday

A little goes a long, long way

A grain of sand will foul the clay

The sour grapes will ruin wine

And so will sin this soul of mine.

A jealous heart, a greedy glance

The prideful nature's rigid stance

The yeast of scribe and Pharisee

Is still around as you can see.

Remove the leaven that infects

Replace with love the soul perfects.

Humility will raise the dough

And clear the way of love will show.

Tuesday

Lord, what's the call You have on me,

What healing there remains to be?

I want to serve and do what's right

But find that I have not the might.

Impatience plagues my every day

I gripe and grumble on the way

I want what ere I want, and now.

Entitled, think myself somehow.

I need to meet Your patient gaze

And let Your love remove the haze

So I may clearly see in Thee

The virtue lacking much in me.

I must begin to others see

Their needs have more import than me.

Or when my time as first has passed

I'll find I'm in the line as last.

Wednesday

Woe to you when all speak well

For this can be a sign of Hell

The prophets false found such acclaims

But none can now recall their names.

The humble poor who bear their cross

When faced with hardship, grief, and loss

Thought helpless, wretched, here on Earth

Will find their joy in second birth.

But woe to those in comfort now

Who poor and helpless disavow

For you shall be the weeping ones

When poor and sick He claims as sons.

Thursday

Oh, how knowledge inflates us with pride

When love is lost as our guide.

We think that we know, but have nothing to show,

Except mystery further supplied.

It's the finger of God we should see

In the scale of this great mystery.

No man could ever avail, of such beauty in every detail,

To Him we must bendeth the knee.

Friday

The speck I see quite clear in thee

But nay the plank that lies in me.

So many sins in others seen

By one who still remains unclean.

The blind of pride is drawn, you see

And unrepentant, blind will be.

But humble raise the shade to light

To pull the plank and see what's right.

Saturday

Let this sign be lifted high

Let Him be seen by passers-by

The One who came to save the lost

No evil plan could love exhaust.

Just contemplate what there you see

And know He suffered all for thee

His patient love is waiting still

For all to seek His holy will.

No hint of selfishness or pride

But every evil there belied

The perfect love of God for man

Restores that lost when time began.

The cross that reaches high and low

The love of God for man to know

Both far and wide the arms extend

The rift of God and man to mend