In steps both small and leaps so grand,
Beneath the sky, on God's vast land,
"Go with God, and He with you,"
A promise held, forever true.
Through valleys deep and mountains high,
Underneath the vast, sprawling sky,
His presence felt in every breeze,
In whispered prayers, and rustled leaves.
With every step, His grace unfolds,
In stories written, and tales untold,
For when you walk with faith so clear,
God's love surrounds, His whispers near.
In moments of joy, in times of strife,
He walks beside you, through life's rife.
A guiding hand, a light that leads,
Fulfilling hopes, and tending needs.
"Go with God," a path divine,
His footsteps yours, entwined in thine.
For in His grace, you'll find your way,
From dawn's first light to end of day.
And when the road turns sharp and steep,
Remember promises He keeps.
For with His love, you'll never roam,
Go with God, and you're never alone.
October 26, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In the nooks of homes, where elves might dwell,
Perched on shelves, in mischief they excel.
But beyond these games and festive cheer,
Lies a deeper call, year after year.
"Psh," says the world, with a playful scoff,
At the elf's antics, up high and aloft.
Yet amidst the tinsel, lights aglow,
There's a truth more profound we ought to know.
What Jesus seeks, in the heart's quiet hue,
Is not the elf's jest, but something true.
Not toys or games, or yuletide brew,
But the gentle presence of "ewe in a pew."
In the stillness of a church, souls come to pray,
Where echoes of faith are not far away.
It's there in the pew, under sacred roof,
We find our spirits lifted, hearts aloof.
The message is clear, in this time of glee,
Beyond the presents, beneath the tree.
It's the call to gather, in reverence anew,
For what Jesus cherishes, is "ewe in a pew."
So let the elf rest, on his wooden shelf,
As we seek deeper meaning, within ourselves.
For in the quiet of the pew, hearts renew,
In the presence of the One, forever true.
February 21, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In the quiet corridors of a humble heart,
Where true faith whispers, a silent art.
Not in loud proclamations does it reside,
But in gentle acts, its presence implied.
"If you think you're religious, you're probably not,"
For true Christianity is in the deeds quietly wrought.
In the shadow of service, in love's tender embrace,
Following the path Jesus did trace.
Serving others, without seeking the light,
In the calm of the day, in the still of the night.
It's in the hands that feed, in the eyes that listen,
In the steps that follow, a mission christened.
For in the fabric of the humble, the divine is sewn,
Not in grandeur, but in kindness shown.
The essence of faith, in actions soft-spoken,
In every promise kept, every bond unbroken.
True Christianity, a quiet, humble service,
A journey inward, a purposeful purchase.
In the footsteps of Jesus, a path to emulate,
A call to love, to serve, to navigate.
So let our actions speak, in whispers true,
A testament of faith, in all we do.
For in the heart of service, quietly, profoundly,
The spirit of true Christianity is found, resoundingly.
February 19, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In the warmth of homes, where love and chaos blend,
No perfect family stands, but on each other, we depend.
With laughter and tears, our broken pieces we mend,
In our imperfect bonds, a message of love we send.
Amongst us walk, no perfect people, but seekers all the same,
Bearing burdens, hiding pains, playing life's relentless game.
Yet in our shared journey, there's no room for shame,
For we are loved by a Perfect God, who calls us each by name.
But we have a Perfect God, in His grace, we find our peace,
In His unwavering love, our searching souls release.
Amen, we whisper, in a prayer that does not cease,
For in His perfection, our imperfections find their ease.
So let us walk together, in our imperfect state,
Guided by His perfect light, through every twist of fate.
In every church, every home, let His love permeate,
For with our Perfect God, a perfect love we create.
February 19, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In skies above, on Memorial Day's light,
I served the aisles, a flight attendant's plight.
The first row held a passenger, a sight so rare,
Beside him, a dog with a valorous air.
Corporal Kiddy, her name, a Marine so bold,
Twelve years of service, her story untold.
With fur not adorned in medals or lace,
But with honor and courage, she held her place.
Retirement beckoned, her duty now done,
A life of battles, now set to the sun.
I seized the moment, a tribute to cast,
For her years of service, vast.
The cabin listened, as I spoke of her deed,
An announcement for a hero, indeed.
Applause thundered, a sound so profound,
For Corporal Kiddy, respect was bound.
At the sound, she leaped, a lap to find,
Accepting homage from those so kind.
Not just a dog, but a Marine so grand,
On her final flight, to retirement land.
A tale of loyalty, courage, and might,
Of Corporal Kiddy, on that Memorial flight.
A flight attendant's story, of a day so bright,
When honor and applause took to the night.
February 18, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
I don't know what you are doing. I understand what you have done.
You have forgiven me of my sins through the sacrifice of your Son
There is no way to thank you for
Your Gift and the blessings that continue to flow
I can only tell of Your Love wherever I go
February 18, 2024
MarkWaldrop
Is my memory failing as I age
Is my mind trapped in a cage
It has been brought to my attention that Memory is dependent on retention
I have lost my keys as most of us have
My mind wandered when placed there
Keeping my mind in the now not hampered by the future or past
Will sharpen my memory and recollection that will surely last
I have often forgotten a name when being introduced
The reason being I was not paying attention to the truth
My memory fades and many mistakes are made
When I find myself in a rush my thoughts are delayed
To sharpen my memory I need to
Pay close attention
Slowing down and clearing the mind will bring less tension
February 18, 2023
MarkWaldrop
In sacred flames, unbound by earthly laws,
Where God's own fire illuminates the cause,
A testament of faith, so pure, so grand,
In holy fire, on sacred, hallowed land.
Upon the ground where Moses stood in awe,
A bush alight, yet unscathed, without flaw.
A symbol, deep, of God's enduring grace,
Where flames enlighten, yet they leave no trace.
And Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego, too,
In furnace fierce, a fiery trial they knew.
Yet not alone, amidst the blaze they stood,
For with them was the Son of God, so good.
Their faith, a shield, against the consuming fire,
In God’s own presence, lifted ever higher.
On holy ground, their trust was their attire,
Unburnt, untouched, by earthly flame or pyre.
This divine fire, it does not destroy,
But strengthens faith, in every girl and boy.
A beacon, bright, through history's vast expanse,
Inviting all, to take that faithful stance.
So let us walk, in steps of those before,
On holy ground, where sacred fires soar.
With God as guide, through trials, we’ll endure,
In His embrace, our faith remains secure.
February 18, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
What is my reason for arising at the break of dawn
Will I be mad at the world or Happy singing a song
I have the power to determine my mood
To choose happiness or continue the fude
Happiness is Blessed with a Peaceful state of mind
Due to the calmness of my soul residing inside
Jesus brings Peace and Happiness within
The solution to the state I seek is inviting Jesus in
February 17, 2024
MarkWaldrop
In the realm of waves, both near and far,
It's not the Rig, but the Antenna, star,
A truth profound, in radio's art,
In crafting signals, that's where you start.
With solder, wire, and hands so skilled,
It's not what's bought, but what's self-built,
The heart of communication, clear and true,
Lies in the Antenna, reaching skies so blue.
For every ham, enthusiast, and sage,
Who turns the dial, or sets the stage,
Knows well the secret, old yet bold,
It's not the machine, but the reach, gold.
In the dance of frequencies, high and low,
It's the Antenna's song, that steals the show,
A crafted beam, a loop, a whip,
Guiding the waves on their journey, a trip.
So heed this wisdom, clear and bright,
In your pursuit of the signal's flight,
It's not the Rig, with knobs and lights,
But the Antenna, in heights, ignites.
In this endeavor, patience is a friend,
For every build, every tweak, lends,
To the magic of the airwaves, wide and vast,
It's the Antenna's tale, that forever will last.
February 17, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
