Cold Day

A homeless man or woman another child of God you'll turn your back and walk away because you find them odd no fireplace or a warm dry bed no family to call their own in the cold is where they sleep that's where they call home exposed to nature's elements on a frozen bench they lie while you sleep in your warm house fully fed, secure and dry. that could've been you instead you're but one bad break away then everyone can also treat you exactly the same way buy them a warm and hardy meal, and stop being critical give them shoes with holes you can be the Miracle "Cast aside a brother so too, shall I cast you away" ---Jesus B. G. Wetherby enchantedmountainpoet@yahoo.com All rights reserved. Reproduced with permission of author

 

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You Can't Always Judge A Book By It's Cover

There once was a man seen begging, As people passed Him on the street where he sat They wondered if in life he'd always been a failure, Or why he was now in such dire straits. They didn't know his circumstances Or if his soul was bound for heaven or hell. Most people judged by the way things looked, But only God could really tell. Turning back to take another look Many people would then stop along their way, Some would give him money for his next meal They'd tell him "go now, and have a better day." His eyes would sparkle with the love of Jesus As He'd thank them for their help, Then with a tattered Bible in His trembling hands, He'd say, "God bless you," while he wept. He said a better day was coming soon For his time on earth was almost through, He'd spent all he had helping others in need, Knowing God would provide for Him and be true. His body was scarred and torn from many battles He'd fought for our country in several wars, Now all he asked was for his daily bread, And a crown one day, which he hoped would have stars. When people would stop along the way As they passed Him each day in the street, They'd help provide his daily bread But with God's manna, their souls he'd then feed. If they looked closer at his meager sign They could see it read, "JESUS SAVES" Then John 3: 16 was written in red, With the words, "Jesus Christ is the only way." The bread which he gave others Was much greater than their money could buy, He told of His heavenly Father's salvation and love, Then spoke of mansions Jesus promised in the skies. Although he suffered much pain And had no family that seemed to care, He said he knew God was forever near, Because His Word said He'd always be there. From a pauper to a prince In God's army, the man was soon heaven bound, His was wealthy without earthly riches, Because in God's book, His name was written down. The moral of this little story is, We sometimes misjudge our sister or brother, We must seek God's understanding and discernment For you can't always judge a book by its cover. Things are not always as they might seem From what we may see or hear, The circumstances of others could be ours, Except for the grace of our Savior so dear. Jo Ann Kelly © 2005 J. P.'s Inspirations http://www.my.homewithgod.com/jpinspirations/ For I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me. Matthew 25:36-36

 

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The Broken Harp

In the corner of the basement Stood a cobweb-covered harp - Broken now and so forsaken, There it stood back in the dark. No one in the little village Could repair the harp again - And you'd never guess the music Or the places it had been. Came a ragged man a beggin' For a place out of the cold; He was bent and slightly limpin' He was lookin' frail and old. So the houseman gave permission - He could sleep upon the floor Of the basement where was kept The harp with melody no more. Soon the house was filled with music! 'Twas as sweet as angels bring. And the household came a-runnin' Just to see the vibrant strings! Dusted now, it stood in beauty, Every web was cleared away; And the ragged man was singing Very softly as he played. In his song he told the story How he'd made that harp when new; Since he'd made its first beginning Fixing wasn't hard to do. And, dear friend, if you are needing Just a touch from God above... Just remember Who has made you..... He can "fix" you with His love. He can fill the empty corners Of your heart with song anew; He can take each day and make A special melody for you! He can fix the broken pieces Better even than before - And open wide the storehouse Of His blessing evermore! Joan Clifton Costner© http://underhiswings0.tripod.com All Rights Reserved

 

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Cross In My Pocket

I carry a cross in my pocket A simple reminder to me Of the fact that I am a Christian No matter where I may be. This little cross is not magic Nor is it a good luck charm. It isn't meant to protect me. From every physical harm. It's not for identification For all the world to see. It's simply an understanding Between my Savior and me. When I put my hand in my pocket To bring out a coin or key. The cross is there to remind me Of the price he paid for me. It reminds me, too, to be thankful For my blessings day by day And strive to serve him better In all that I do and say. It's also a daily reminder Of the peace and comfort I share With all who know my master And give themselves to his care. So, I carry a cross in my pocket Reminding no one but me That Jesus Christ is Lord of my life If only I'll let him be. ©Verna Mae Thomas Lou Alice Thomasa Evans, daughter of Verna Thomas, has given permission to use this poem.

 

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Is It Any Wonder?

Is it any wonder That the world is filled with pain, When man sets aside its beauty, For his own material gain? Is it any wonder That lovers' hearts grow dim, When they do not hold in honor, The love that's found within? Is it any wonder That the homeless often fail, When they're forced out of house and home To seek another trail? Is it any wonder That nature falls to ruin and rubble, Because we drain it thoughtlessly, Allowing it to crumble? Is it any wonder That children go astray, Because we did not take the time, To show them the proper way? Is it any wonder That evil's strong and bold, When we can't see any goodness, And we let our hearts grow cold? Is it any wonder Racism thrives, my friend, When we cannot see the person, Just the color of his skin? Is it any wonder That friendships die and fade, When we forget the reasons, Why they first were made? Is it any wonder Our world has been polluted, When we allow our industries, To strip it and permute it? Is it any wonder There's so much grief and sorrow, That we don't even seem to care, What will take place tomorrow? Is it any wonder We see no value in our brothers, And we hold ourselves too far above, The many needs of others? Is it any wonder Our world is like it is, When all we do is grumble, And no action do we give? Is it any wonder We wait in fear of Judgment Day, When we do the things we do, Then forget the way to pray? Author Unknown

 

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