Pause for Poetry-Forgive Me, Lord

Welcome to Pause for Poetry featuring a poem, Forgive Me, Lord, written by my writer-friend, Frances Gregory Pasch.

When the earth with its temptations

Tries to get my life off track,

And I spend time doing worldly things

And sometimes turn my back…

Forgive me.

When I try to work things my own way

Instead of trusting you,

When I think I have the answers

Yet they seldom see me through…

Forgive me.

When I wrestle with anxiety

And get uptight inside,

And continually rely on me

and bathe myself in pride…

Forgive me.

Help me, Lord, to lean on You,

Provide the strength I need,

For in Your power and Your grace,

I know I can succeed.

Frances Gregory Pasch’s devotions and poems have been published hundreds of times in devotional booklets, magazines, and Sunday school papers since 1985. Her writing has also appeared in several dozen compilations. Frances’ latest book, Greater Than Gold is available on Amazon. Her first book, Double Vision: Seeing God in Everyday Life Through Devotions and Poetry, which was published when she was eighty years old, is also available on Amazon. Frances has been leading a women’s Christian writers group since 1991 and makes her own holiday greeting cards incorporating her poetry. She and her husband, Jim, have been married since 1958. They have five sons and nine grandchildren. Contact her at http://www.francesgregorypasch.com.

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I wish you well.

Sandy

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Pause for Poetry-In Bethlehem

In Bethlehem

Annie Johnson Flint

‘Twas night in little Bethlehem,
All calm and clear and mild,
And tenderly, with voice and touch,
A mother soothed her child;
“Sleep, little one, the day is done,
Why do you wake so long?”
“Oh, mother dear, I seem to hear
A wondrous angel song.”
“Not so, my son, my precious one,
‘Twas but the wind you heard,
Or drowsy call of dreaming bird,
Or osiers by the streamlet stirred
Beneath the hillside trees;
Some bleating lamb that’s gone astray,
Or traveler singing on his way
His weariness to ease.
Rest, little son, till night is done,
And gloomy darkness flees.”
Yet while she spoke the shepherds ran
In haste the road along,
To find the Mother and the Babe,
For they had heard the song.

“Rest, little son, the night’s begun,
Why do you toss and sigh?”
“A brighter star than others are,
O’er yon low roof hangs nigh.”
“Not so, my son, my darling one,
I see no gleaming star
That shines more bright than others are;
‘Tis but a lamp that burns afar,
Or glow-worm’s wandering spark;
Some shepherd’s watch-fire in the night,
Or traveler’s torch that blazes bright
To cheer him through the dark.
Sleep, little son, till night is done,
And upward springs the lark.”
Yet, while she spoke, three kings had come,
Three kings who rode from afar,
To lay their gifts at Jesus’ feet,
For they had seen the star.

And so today, beside our way,
The heavenly portents throng,
Yet some there be who never see
The Star, nor hear the Song.

Leave a comment below to share your thoughts on the subject. If you think others would appreciate reading this, please share it through the social media buttons.

You can find my December Inspire a Fire post here. Please stop by and read it.

I wish you well.

Sandy

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Pause for Poetry-Mary and Martha

Mary and Martha

Annie Johnson Flint

Martha was busy and hurried,
Serving the Friend divine,
Cleansing the cups and the platters,
Bringing the bread and the wine;
But Martha was careful and anxious
Fretted in thought and in word,
She had no time to be learning
While she was serving the Lord,
For Martha was “cumbered” with serving,
Martha was “troubled” with “things” –
Those that would pass with the using –
She was forgetting her wings.

But Mary was quiet and peaceful,
Learning to love and to live.
Mary was hearing His precepts,
Mary was letting Him give –
Give of the riches eternal,
Treasures of mind and of heart;
Learning the mind of the Master,
Choosing the better part.

Do we ever labor at serving
Till voices grow fretful and shrill,
Forgetting how to be loving,
Forgetting how to be still?
Do we strive for “things” in possession,
And toil for the perishing meat,
Neglecting the one thing needful –
Sitting at Jesus’ feet?

Service is good when He asks it,
Labor is right in its place,
But there is one thing better –
Looking up into His face;
There is so much He would tell us,
Truths that are precious and deep;
This is the place where He wants us,
These are the things we can keep.

Leave a comment below to share your thoughts on the subject. If you think others would appreciate reading this, please share it through the social media buttons.

You can find my November Inspire a Fire post here. Please stop by and read it.

I wish you well.

Sandy

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Pause for Poetry – I Laid it Down in Silence

I Laid it Down in Silence

Frances Ridley Havergal

Selected from Streams in the Desert

I laid it down in silence,

This work of mine,

And took what had been sent me–

A resting time.

The Master’s voice had called me

To rest apart;

“Apart with Jesus only,”

Echoed my heart.

I took the rest and stillness

From His own hand,

And felt this present illness

Was what He planned.

How often we choose labor,

When He says “Rest”–

Our ways are blind and crooked;

His way is best.

Work He Himself has given,

He will complete.

There may be other errands

For tired feet;

There may be other duties

For tired hands,

The present, is obedience

To His commands.

There is a blessed resting

In lying still,

In letting His hand mold us,

Just as He will.

His work must be completed.

His lesson set;

He is the Master Workman:

Do not forget!

It is not only “working.”

We must be trained;

And Jesus “learned” obedience,

Through suffering gained.

For us, His yoke is easy,

His burden light.

His discipline most needful,

And all is right.

We are to be His servants;

We never choose

If this tool or if that one

Our hands will use.

In working or in waiting

May we fulfill

Not ours at all, but only

The Master’s will!

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You can find my October Inspire a Fire post here. Please stop by and read it.

I wish you well.

Sandy

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Pause for Poetry – Child of My Love, Lean Hard

Child of My Love, Lean Hard

Jeremiah Eames Rankin

Francis Murphy’s Gospel Temperance Hymnal‎ page 57

Child of My love, lean hard,

And let Me feel the pressure of your care;

I know your burden, child. I shaped it;

Balanced it in Mine Own hand; made no proportion

In its weight to your unaided strength,

For even as I laid it on, I said,

“I will be near, and while she leans on Me,

This burden will be Mine, not hers;

So will I keep My child within the circling arms

Of My Own love.” Here lay it down, not fear

To impose it on a shoulder that upholds

The government of worlds. Yet closer come:

You are not near enough. I would embrace your care;

So I might feel My child reclining on My breast.

You love Me, I know. So then do not doubt;

But loving Me, lean hard.

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You can find my September Inspire a Fire post here. Please stop by and read it.

I wish you well.

Sandy

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Pause for Poetry-But God

But God

Annie Johnson Flint

I know not, but God knows;
Oh, blessed rest from fear!
All my unfolding days
To Him are plain and clear.

Each anxious, puzzled “Why?”
From doubt or dread that grows,
Finds answer in this thought;
I know not, but He knows.

I cannot, but God can;
Oh, balm for all my care!
The burden that I drop
His hand will lift and bear,

Though eagle pinions tire —
I walk where once I ran —
This is my strength, to know
I cannot, but God can.

I see not, but God sees;
Oh, all-sufficient light!
My dark and hidden way
To Him is always bright.

My strained and peering eyes
May close in restful ease,
And I in peace may sleep;
I see not, but He sees.

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You can find my August Inspire a Fire post here. Please stop by and read it.

I wish you well.

Sandy

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Pause for Poetry – At Eventime

At Eventime

James Arnold Blaisdell

Riches of Grace a Collection of New Songs and Standard Hymns‎ page 105

Tonight, my soul, be still and sleep;

The storms are raging on God’s deep–

God’s deep, not yours; be still and sleep.

Tonight, my soul, be still and sleep;

God’s hands shall still the Tempter’s sweep–

God’s hands, not yours; be still and sleep.

Tonight, my soul, be still and sleep;

God’s love is strong while night hours creep–

God’s love, not yours; be still and sleep.

Tonight, my soul, be still and sleep;

God’s heaven will comfort those who weep–

God’s heaven, not yours; be still and sleep.

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You can find my July Inspire a Fire post here. Please stop by and read it.

I wish you well.

Sandy

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Pause for Poetry-He Giveth More Grace

He Giveth More Grace

Annie Johnson Flint

He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labours increase;
To added afflictions He addeth His mercy,
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.

His love has no limits, His grace has no measure,
His power no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.

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I wish you well.

Sandy

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You can find my June Inspire a Fire post here. Please stop by and read it.

Pause for Poetry – Begin the Day With God

Begin the day with God!

Horatius Bonar

Begin the day with God!

He is your Sun and Day!

His is the radiance of your dawn;

To Him address your day.

Sing a new song at morn!

Join the glad woods and hills;

Join the fresh winds and seas and plains,

Join the bright flowers and rills.

Sing your first song to God!

Not to your fellow men;

Not to the creatures of His hand,

But to the glorious One.

Take your first walk with God!

Let Him go forth with thee;

By stream, or sea, or mountain path,

Seek still His company.

Your first transaction be

With God Himself above;

So will your business prosper well,

All the day by love.

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I wish you well.

Sandy

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You can find my May Inspire a Fire post here. Please stop by and read it.

Pause for Poetry-The Way of the Cross

The Way of the Cross

Annie Johnson Flint

Some of us stay at the Cross,
Some of us wait at the tomb,
Quickened and raised with Christ
Yet lingering still in the gloom.

Some of us bide at the Passover Feast
With Pentecost all unknown:
The triumphs of grace in the heavenly place
That our Lord has made our own.

If Christ who had died had stopped at the Cross,
His work had been incomplete.
If Christ who was buried had stayed in the tomb,
He had only known defeat.

But the Way of the Cross never stops at the Cross,
And the way of the tomb leads on
To victorious Grace in the heavenly place,
Where the Risen Lord has gone.

 

Our Sacrificial Lamb

©Frances Gregory Pasch

The cross lay bare and bloodstained…

The nails ripped from Christ’s hands.

They came and took His body.

Most did not understand.

The crowd wept tears of sorrow

For they did not realize

His mission was accomplished…

In three days He would arise.

What seemed like such a tragedy

Was all part of God’s plan.

When Jesus died, He paid the price…

Our sacrificial lamb.

He conquered death by rising

And opened heaven’s door.

If we will just believe in Him,

Our destiny’s secure.

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Sandy

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You can find my April Inspire a Fire post here. Please stop by and read it.