I must say what needs to be said For the betterment of man before I'm dead Call out the wrong from the right They cannot exist in the same light A much better world, this would be Standing up with the Love of God in me January 2, 2024 MarkWaldrop
In a paper sack, divine worth unfolds, Three dollars sought, the mystic threshold. Not to explode the soul, disrupt the sleep, But warmth of milk, or in sunlight, a peep. No transformation craved, just ecstasy's kiss, A pound of Eternal, in humble bliss. No love for the different, no migrant's toil, Just God's warmth, in the womb, without turmoil. Three dollars worth of the sacred embrace, In a simple request, a yearning grace. January 2, 2023 Created by MarkWaldrop Taken from “Three Dollars Worth of God” Wilbur Reesy
We need a touch. The touch we get, the touch we give Without a loving touch, we cannot live Babies need a touch of their mother when they are born A widow needs a touch from those who care when she is forlorn The Greatest Touch of all Seems so very small The Devinne touch from God when we so need Him Will deliver us from ourselves into a Heavenly realm December 31, 2023 MarkWaldrop
Fill my cup so that I might ask others to sup I empty my cup that you might fill It up You fill my cup over and over again That I might continually share with friends December 31, 2023 MarkWaldrop
I have been religious most of my life All the right things with much strife Then, one day, seeking something I did not have The Love of God came in like an anointing salve Less strife and happiness today I can't explain the feeling away My religious actions with God's Love Brings into view His Will from above December 30, 2023 MarkWaldrop
In pastures green, where ewes give birth, A tale unfolds of rejected worth. Bummer lambs, heads bowed so low, Rejected by mothers, left to woe. The shepherd, kind, with gentle hand, Lifts the lamb from the lonely land. Wraps it warm, holds it tight, Against the heart, in the silent night. Hand-feeding love to the broken soul, Making the wounded spirit whole. In the shepherd's care, it finds its way, Back to the flock, where others stray. Rejected, yet loved, the bummer lamb, Knows the shepherd's voice, like a sacred psalm. Jesus, the Shepherd, so good and true, Cares for us all, me and you. In moments broken, rejected, and low, He holds us close, lets His love flow. No lamb forgotten, no soul left behind, In His love and care, solace we find. Bummer lambs, we may be, But deeply loved for eternity. By the Shepherd, gentle and kind, In His embrace, true solace we find. December 30, 2023 Created by MarkWaldrop
When I take flight my destination, the Eastern gate My departure time is unknown Only to my Master is it known I've been planning my trip, looking at every detail I'm so excited to go where love and joy prevail Purchasing my ticket from the One who frees us Through the Ticket Master God’s Son Jesus A smooth ride it will be when His Angels come for me On the final, I will see the light of the Eastern Gate There, no one can imagine His Glory That awaits I will keep tolling on till my life is complete Then, boarding the flight for my God to meet December 28, 2023 MarkWaldrop
Are my prayers being answered today Please reveal that I might see each day Unanswered prayer is not bad, I must say Not knowing what to ask for when I Pray Asking for your will to be done in my life Brings clarity and freedom with no strife Thank You God for showing me The way you would have me be December 26, 2023 MarkWaldrop
Brush strokes on the canvas of life Will it bring me happiness or strife The bright colors of happiness The dark colors of sadness The Master's touch produces a painting of Gladness The dark colors highlight the bright creating a painting of great delight The final stroke will be made that day When my soul takes flight to fly far away December 25, 2023 MarkWaldrop
In Savannah's streets I wandered slow, Past a church in decay, where dim lights glow. Through the window's pane, a hymn did start, A funeral's lament touched my heart. Sympathy awakened, wonder took its hold, In a negro pew, the tale unfolds. Young couples weeping, sorrow wild, On the altar lay a coffin, a sorrowful child. Rows of elders, a preacher's grand stance, At a wooden desk, in a solemn trance. "Don't be weepin'," he kindly said, For the child has run where angels tread. He's doing fine, appreciates your love, But the Father above calls from realms above. Not by miles did He give the boy, Just lent some sunshine, a fleeting joy. Let your hearts grow, with love so deep, Till silver tears in your eyes do weep. Poor mourners, let Jesus's peace abide, No need for criticism, in Him, confide. For comforts given, can be taken away, Praise the Lord in glory, let us pray. In the large house above, the child is kept, Rest in peace, dear ones, as your hearts accept. December 17, 2023 Created by MarkWaldrop Taken from Steal Away - Lyrics Red Foley
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