Our Sovereign Lord

Dear Lord, I know you’re sovereign;

I know you’re in control…

over every minute detail

in this world and that’s your role.

But Lord, your providence, it leads me

down a darkened alley;

where the shadow of death

looms o’er each breath

in this cold and gruesome valley.

And I grow tried of fighting,

so worn from this descent

into a drying cistern

where I am left to mourn without relent.

But Lord, you walk beside me…

you lend your presence near

and without that much

of your healing touch

I’d wither as the panting deer.

Dear Lord, I know you’re sovereign,

and that you allow us pain

because our fears

and anxious tears

ripen souls like summer rain.

So Lord, in this stark providence

I beg your guiding hand—

for sin, I own,

and your glory’s known;

let this house on a rock withstand…

the tides and gale

let me not fail

to trust your ways are higher

as heaven over earth;

Lord, let your worth

set our world on fire!

Dear Lord, it’s clear, you’re sovereign

with your firm staff and rod.

May this bring peace

as dew-filled fleece

as I am still, knowing that you’re God.

References from the Holy Bible

Line 7 – Psalm 23:7

Line 12 – Jeremiah 2:13

Line 15 – James 4:8

Line 18 – Psalm 42:1

Line 20 – Deuteronomy 32:29, Hosea 6:1

Line 28 – Matthew 7:24-27

Line 31 – Isaiah 55:8-9

Line 34 – Hebrews 12:29

Line 36 – Psalm 23:4

Line 37 – Philippians 4:7

Line 38 – Judges 6:37

Line 39 – Psalm 46:10

Thank God for the Storm

After the storm

when skies are clear

while blue jays sing

and drown out fear…

I rest

under green canopies

of sunlit branches, galore—

in sweet speckled shade

with dew’s cascade

that ripens nature’s floor.

There is tranquility,

a calm of gentle winds

that I bask in

apart from sin

in this moment that Christ lends.

After the storm

I see

God’s grace in it,

that was hidden from me…

when in

the face of it.

For lightning struck and thunder roared,

as if all joy was left to die.

And darkness reigned

through grim refrain,

and tears poured from Heaven’s cry.

Now I thank God for this stillness,

the blue jay’s song and shade and dew—

but do I think to thank him,

for the storm that he sent, too?

For in the quaking ground

and on the raging seas,

I trembled

at the sound

of judgment on my knees.

And it was in that frightening state

of this availing squall

that I let it wash me

to the rock of ages

and the great wailing wall.

It’s there I was quite stricken…

left weak

and paralyzed—

my sole choice

was to be still;

a sole voice

spoke of his will;

and seeing

such might

that I realized…

he is my faithful comfort,

my ever present help

and hope.

He is the rod,

my unfailing God,

whose dominion’s beyond all scope.

So thank God for the quiet,

the stillness, and the calm…

that restores our peace;

let faith increase,

just as a healing balm!

But when foreboding skies

threaten to cause harm…

trust God’s will, true,

at work in you;

and thank him for the storm.

References from the Holy Bible

Line 5 – Matthew 11:28

Line 17 – Matthew 13:16

Line 30 – Psalm 135:7

Line 31 – Revelation 6:12; 16:18

Line 33 – Philippians 2:12

Line 38 – Psalm 51:7

Line 39 – Isaiah 26:4

Line 42 – 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

Line 45 – Psalm 46:10

Line 46 – John 10:27-28

Line 48 – Matthew 13:16

Line 49 – Deuteronomy 10:17

Line 51 – John 14:16-18

Line 52 – Psalm 46:1

Line 53 – Psalm 71:5, Romans 13:15

Line 54 – Psalm 23:4

Line 55 – 1 Corinthians 13:8

Line 56 – Psalm 72:8, Daniel 7:13-14

Line 61 – Jeremiah 8:22

Line 66 – 1 Thessalonians 5:18

LORD, Let me Serve You

The book of 2nd Corinthians calls Christians to examine ourselves. And that’s what I tried to do in exploring this new poem I wrote. It’s a poem of written repentance. I pray many are blessed by it.
-Leanne

My God, why do I serve you…?
Is it for my own glory,
or for my tears
and anxious fears
that through the years
have wore me?

My God, why do I serve you…?
Is it because I want
a miracle of health and wealth
that I covet
and long to flaunt?

My God, why do I serve you…?
What is my inmost aim,
when I cling to pride
and toss aside
commandments to my shame?

My LORD, please let me serve you.
Examine
my sickened heart
call me to seek
from a soul, meek,
and then set me apart.

For all my dreams are barren now,
like clouds without the rain.
And as if for some dead sacred cow
my efforts lie in vain.

LORD, strip me of my comforts:
all sheer and stain silk;
and my soul save
through a new crave
for the meat and not just milk.

LORD, shine your light
into my night
through words that guide and beckon…
that I may see
what needs to be
wrestled with and reckoned.

Then, LORD, let me serve You…
while to you, I draw near,
with a heart refined
in your good time
as the thirsting, panting deer.

And, LORD, let me serve you…
let me walk in all your ways,
for they are higher.
Let my desire
be tried by fire
in all the coming days.

Yes, LORD, let me serve you…
from motives pure and true
that my spirit, poor,
may know You more
and may be reborn, anew!

-M. Leanne Todd

References from the Holy Bible:
Line 10 – Exodus 20:17
Line 14 – Proverbs 16:18
Line 18 – 2nd Corinthians 13:5
Line 19 – Jeremiah 17:9
Line 20 – Matthew 7:7-8
Line 21 – Matthew 5:5
Line 22 – Jeremiah 1:1, Colossians 3:12-17, 1 Peter 3:15-17
Line 24 – Proverbs 25:14
Line 25 – Exodus 32:1-35
Line 26 – Ecclesiastes 1:1-2
Line 29 – Psalm 62:1
Line 31 – 1 Corinthians 3:2
Line 32 – John 8:12
Line 34 – Psalm 119:105
Line 35 – Matthew 13:16
Line 37 – Romans 6:11
Line 39 – James 4:8
Line 40 – Isiah 48:10
Line 42 – Psalm 42:1
Line 44 – Deuteronomy 10:12
Line 45 – Isaiah 55:9
Line 47 – Malachi 3:3
Line 51 – Matthew 5:3-4
Line 52 – 1 John 2:4
Line 53 – John 3:16, 2 Corinthians 5:17

The Newness of Life

The days were long,

and I was so small—

the insignificance of it all.

Doldrums loomed.

Joy had no room.

All efforts were naught and folly.

And despite warm sand,

as children ran,

nothing could lift my melancholy.

It hung as a foreboding fog

that choked each pensive breath.

And there was no bliss

in that abyss,

only waste and grief and death.

But from that night

I cried for Light

in the ruined aftermath,

and sin I owned

through wordless groans,

praying God might stay His wrath.

And that He did,

because, you see—

my Advocate drew near…

and to His face

I turned

for grace

with no more brokenness or fear.

In Him

all peace is magnified.

In Him

I rise,

absolved.

In Him

the peril of my sin

is ultimately resolved.

So fog, it cleared

as Jesus neared.

He broke its grasping hold.

And I bask in His Light

once pined for in night,

knowing He is in control.

All doldrums gone

and joy resounds,

for all these wounds

have now been bound.

Days are spent in song

and hope—it stands so tall,

for my soul’s made new

as one of the few, oh!

The vitality of it all!

References from the Bible Holy

Line 3 – Ecclesiastes 1:1-2

Line 16 – John 8:12

Line 19 – Romans 8:26

Line 23 – 1 John 2:1, James 4:8

Line 25 – Acts 3:19-21

Line 26 – Hebrews 4:16

Line 29 – Philippians 4:7

Line 42 – John 15:11

Line 44 – Psalm 147:3

Line 47 – Romans 6:4

Line 48 – Matthew 7:13-14

The Greater Grace

Each time I fail

it haunts me,

as I smolder in the ashes…

of what once was a conviction;

now burned out

as all hope crashes.

But there’s no time to wallow

in defeat or pity’s snare.

Though dreams implode

And strength erodes,

I’ll rally to cast my care.

Though never far from broken

and crushed in all despair…

I know the one who saved me

will not let me linger there!

He is the springing fountain

when seeds

cannot find rain!

And he’s the root of David

to this branch not graft in vain!

He is the light of the world 

when my faith is dim with doubt,

that beckons to repentance

like an oasis in the drought!

He is the bright morning star,

like a beacon, on the sea…

that guides my course

with unseen force

demanding all of me!

So even in my failure,

one point is underscored…

my sin is never greater 

than the grace 

of Christ, the Lord!

References from the Holy Bible:

Line 3 – Isaiah 44:20

Line 8 – 2 Corinthians 7:10

Line 11 – 1 Peter 5:7

Line 13 – Psalm 34:18

Line 14 – Acts 4:10-12

Line 15 – 2 Colossians 2:13-14

Line 16 – Jeremiah 17:3, John 7:37-38

Line 17 – Matthew 13:8

Line 19 – Revelation 22:16

Line 20 – Romans 11:16-24

Line 21 – John 8:12

Line 24 – Isaiah 44:3

Line 25 – Revelation 22:16

Line 27 – Psalms 32:8

Line 28 – Hebrews 11:1

Line 29 – Matthew 22:37-38

Line 33 – Romans 5:15-21

Loved

When I am broken,

forlorn and numb,

from all that this life throws me…

I take refuge

in the Fount’s deluge

and trust You, God, Who knows me.

Christ Jesus, You’re my shelter—

my calm in every storm.

Your Lordship role

restores my soul

when You call the clouds to form.

The Silversmith,

You light Your flame

and in it

casts this precious ore…

then pelt and beat

through searing heat

until in it

Your reflection shines, galore.

The Gardener,

You prune Your branch.

You do not neglect how it fares…

until fruit sprouts, blooming,

from Your faithful grooming

for You are the good Gardener Who cares.

The Potter,

You form Your clay,

but reserve the right to destroy it…

each vessel in His hand,

by Your command

for the use in which You employ it.

So let me wrestle like Jacob

for Your blessing,

even if I must be maimed.

Grant me grace to stay

and know Your Way

that I might proclaim Your name!

Give a glimpse of Your glory

that I may convey Your story—

set me, like Moses, in the cleft…

So I will not roam,

but will have a home

keep me right, that I will not be left.

Knowing this

I will count it all joy,

and in suffering I will not faint.

Let me persevere

at length to hear

“Well done,” before the saints.

References from the Holy Bible:

Line 4 – Psalm 46:1; 71:3

Line 5 – Isaiah 55:1

Line 6 – Psalm 139:1-5

Line 7 – Psalm 91:1-16

Line 8 – Matthew 8:23-27, Mark 4:35-41, Luke 8:22-25

Line 10 – Psalm 23:1-3

Line 11 – Exodus 13:22

Line 12 – Malachi 3:3

Line 13 – Hebrews 12:28-29

Line 19 – Genesis 1:26-27

Line 20 – John 15:1-8

Line 23 – Galatians 5:22-23

Line 26 – Isaiah 64:8

Line 28 – Jeremiah 18:1-4

Line 32 – Genesis 32:24-28

Line 36 – John 14:6

Line 37 – Psalm 105:1-6

Line 40 – Exodus 33:12-23

Line 42 – Matthew 6:20

Line 43 – Matthew 25:31-46

Line 45 – James 1:2-4

Line 46 – Isaiah 40:31

Line 47 – Hebrews 10:36

Line 48 – Matthew 13:16

Line 49 – Matthew 25:23

God’s Guiding Hand in my Mental Illness

If anyone comes speaking in the name of the LORD Jesus Christ, it is imperative that their lives become an open book. That is because having intimate knowledge of the author’s life allows people to have a better perspective and sense of discernment about what is written. For this reason, I feel it necessary to share not only about the strength of my faith with the reader of this collection, but also…about my weakness.

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at a young age in life – my 9th grade year in high school. One day I began to physically shake in my gym class. I don’t remember that. I only remember being escorted to the school office, where the general consensus was that I had been “doing drugs.” There I suffered a brief interrogation about my would-be drug connections, for which I had no coherent answers.

I sat, bracing for the impending wrath of a militant anti-drug regime and whatever authorities would be called…you know, for BACK UP, against this wily and decidedly baked honor roll student. Fortunately, only my mother was called. She could be plenty frightening in her own rite, but at least she didn’t carry a gun—usually. (You must realize, this all happened in Texas. And Texas is a state where signs forbidding firearms must be posted on the doorsteps of convalescent homes.)

Eventually I was taken to the local emergency room, and from there I was ultimately sent to a hospital cities away from home. I would spend the next few months in that private hospital which focused on treating various conditions in adolescents such as: substance abuse, mental illnesses, eating disorders, and so forth.

Despite one doctor’s firm diagnosis of bipolar disorder, otherwise known as manic-depression, the staff ran with an initial diagnosis of schizophrenia. Lithium, the most effective drug used for bipolar disorder in the 1980’s, had certain dangerous side effects that other drugs did not have. So, to ere on the side of caution, the hospital’s medical majority ruled and they began to treat me with drugs that were typically used for schizophrenia.

That is when my ordeal only became worse. I have vague memories of ambling around in circles and squares with my arms mounted at my sides like some robot. I have other foggy memories of angry faces demanding that I take a shower. But I didn’t know how to make the water warm; it was always cold. And it hurt to be in the cold water.

I was alone. There was nothing familiar in that place. Sterile, generic furniture—the same in every room. Strange faces, strange voices. I would crawl through a maze of confusion and anxious feelings all day, every day—unaware of space and time, stumbling around in concentric circles or rigid squares like some lab rat unable to find an exit to the winding hallways…or from my existence.

I remained in that disoriented state for some time until the private hospital was about to have me transported to a state hospital. But just before my scheduled transfer, the hospital staff finally acquiesced to the first doctor’s insistence that they treat me with medications for bipolar disorder. Nothing else had worked, so they had no room to argue with him.

And voila—within ten days of being on that medication, I could, at least, function to some degree. I could shower myself and speak coherent sentences. A few more days later, and my old personality had mostly returned with the use of Lithium.

But treatment with Lithium had to be monitored closely in the initial trial. This required

frequent blood tests to determine how much of the medication was in my bloodstream. The doctors had to make sure that this medication was at a therapeutic, but not toxic level.

Every morning from that point on, I would rouse to the jarring clicks of the door handle to my little room being opened. The dim light from the hallway, eclipsed by the nurse’s figure, would soon spill onto my face as I laying squinting upward in effort to discern which staff member was on duty this time. I would then wake fully to the sound of rubber gloves snapping into position, and unknown fingers pressing into my arm to find a vein. I remember the shiny sight of their supply kits, which was about as comforting as the metal tray of tools that dentists must lay out before you. The instruments were a subtle reminder of who is going to be in charge for the next few minutes. Then would come their gentle preparation with the words, “This is going to stick a little.” And in would go the needle, a tiny rod held firmly in soft tissue until the blood was drained. Then would come the cumbersome jolt as the nurse would replace the full vial with an empty one; sometimes a total of three vials were taken at one drawing. Upon discharge, my arms were blackened and bruised beyond belief. My veins had been torn so much that blood had spilled into my skin creating dark purple and blue blotches several inches above and below each elbow. But no matter—the word “discharge” was all I needed to know.

Or so I thought.

One last level, and no more to come for six months. Hallelujah. Since it was now “slim pickins” among the veins in my arms…the discharge nurse determined that taking blood from my hand was the only viable option.

So first came the cold, sterile stench of rubbing alcohol and the dreadful angst in my stomach as packages were being opened in a hurried rustle. Of course the experience would not be complete without the sinister glint of fluorescent lighting that flickered off the newly exposed needle tip. This would be a way of life from now on, like diabetes, they said—no point in complaining.

As I watched the tiny spearhead of the needle pierce the top of my young hand, it was in that moment of faint Christ-like imagery that I, oddly, felt most comforted. A strong, empowering notion bore down on my young soul: I BELONGED to Christ, I was safe with Him, I was here for His purpose, He would always be with me – even here, in this tiny small town lab room.

I was just a child, around 14 years old. All that really interested me was eating my fill of brownies and listening to Madonna. I was just one of a million other misfit Raggedy Anne and Andies who frequented that rehab unit, and a small and seemingly insignificant one at that. So these notions seemed extraneous, illogical.

And what purpose could come from such a broken life?

I had made my decision for Christ right before my parent’s divorce the previous year after reading His Gospels, but still had very little knowledge of the Bible, and could only count on one hand the number of times that I’d been inside a church as a small child.

So how could I, in my ignorance and eccentricities, be of worth or of use to anyone—much less to YAHWEH…the Supreme Being of the universe?

I did not entertain those questions. They were good ones, but simply not strong enough to penetrate the warmth and joy I felt from this new sense of divine inclusion. Rich, red blood had filled the vial. The sample was complete. I flinched at the exiting needle, and smiled with my LORD. Little did I know, that such lives…are His specialty.

You see, in decades to come…I would suffer three more manic episodes that would, again, require hospitalization each time. And even to this day, I must manage this illness with medications through proper psychiatric care. Just as the Apostle Paul would always have the thorn in his flesh; this illness, it would not go away. But what I have found in Scripture, is that the Apostle was actually blessed to have his thorn. Clearly, the Christ told Paul, “…My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” (2nd Corinthians 12:9)

When we are stripped, and broken, laid bare by this world and its fallen state as manifested in our own human weakness and frailty…the less when can rely upon ourselves. And the more we must cling to His grace, the closer to Him we become. I believe this is what led Paul to further proclaim in 2nd Corinthians 12:9-10, “Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

Since that first manic episode, I have married and given birth to three wonderful children, one of whom has severe Autism, Intellectual Disabilities, and Diabetes. Through it all my husband and I have been married for over 29 years. And by God’s grace I am able to carry on. But how is this all of this even possible after all that I have been through?

Clearly, the medications I take are necessary to ensure the stability of my moods, rest, and even sanity. I won’t argue that.

However, they are NOT what (or Who) has…quite literally…restored my soul.

Truly, a person can be completely “sane” and simultaneously miserable – defeated, humiliated, and disgraced. But by the grace of God, I am none of those things anymore. Everyday, I have my challenges and my struggles as we all do…but there is a hope in me; there is JOY; there is life. And these attributes are not my own.

I know this because of times when I have drifted from the LORD, over the course of my life thus far…and I know the painful consequences of falling into that separation: angst, worry, arrogance, hatred for my fellow man over the slightest infraction, impatience, greed, covetousness, and the list of sins go on and on.

But when I take in the Gospel, and know that all these sins which separate me from the Holy God have been crucified with Christ in His perfect sacrifice for us on the cross…a joy feels me, a relief, a new found freedom stirs in me with the knowledge that nothing I can do or have done is of merit; that I don’t have to “earn” my own salvation, that rather – it was given to me as a precious gift.

As it is written in John 3:16, “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life.”

It is then that I know where to credit this peace that surpasses all understanding! It is not derived from a trial-free life of ease and comfort. Nor is it to be credited to the local drug store, that much is for sure—and certainly not to myself.

But when I bow in daily repentance, in turning from my sins, to the Omnipotent, Almighty God…YAHWEH, the Ancient of Days…through CHRIST, He lifts me from my knees so that I can mount up on the wings of eagles. (Isaiah 40:31) He restores my soul. (Psalm 23:3) When my heart threatens to fail…He becomes the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:26) And most importantly, I am reborn! (John 3:1-8)

This is because unyielding truth and amazing grace have been embodied together in a Living Man, Who is the Living GOD. His name is Jesus, the Christ. And only He…can set you free. (John 8:31-36)

There is a God Who Loves Us

There is a God who loves us…

in our anguish and despair.

He feels our pains;

all things sustains,

and on Him we cast our cares.

There is a God who loves us…

despite our wretched sin,

who suffers long

and makes us strong

enough to battle it and win.

There is a God who loves us…

on that we can rely;

when the world rejects

our calling, elect,

and scoffs at all we try.

There is a God who loves us…

in the morning and in the night

with mercies new

each glistening dew

who, from blindness, gives us sight.

There is a God who loves us…

even when we must strain to find Him;

when trouble drowns

our smiles with frowns

He gives us faith to trust and mind Him.

There is a God who loves us…

when we are broken, scarred, and faint.

So store treasure up;

and drink from His cup

be counted among His saints.

There is a God who loves us…

and He’s the only one

who wounds and heals

and open seals

who comes as Yahweh’s Son.

There is a God who loves us…

who’s not a myth, nor fabled lore,

who died—but then

did rise again

defeating death forevermore.

There is a God who loves us…

in all calamity and toil.

A sparrow, He sees;

and holds the keys

to death and Hades

as a King of Priesthood, royal.

There is a God who loves us…

and mere words cannot convey His grandeur,

because though Deity,

He came as laity—

subjecting Himself to torture, lies, and slander.

There is a God who loves us…

and for Him I’d give my all

to receive His grace;

that He’s made a place.

I will follow at His call!

References from the Holy Bible

Line 1 – John 3:16

Line 3 – Hebrews 4:15

Line 4 – Hebrews 1:3

Line 5 – 1 Peter 5:7

Line 7 – Romans 5:8

Line 8 – Psalm 86:15, 2 Peter 3:9 KJV

Line 9 – 2nd Corinthians 12:9-10

Line 10 – John 5:3-4

Line 13 – John 15:18-25

Line 14 – 2 Peter 1:3-11

Line 15 – 2 Peter 3:3

Line 17 – Psalm 30:5

Line 18 – Lamentations 3:22-23

Line 20 – John 9:25

Line 22 – Psalm 119:123

Line 25 – Ephesians 2:8

Line 28 – Matthew 6:19-21

Line 29 – Matthew 20:22-23

Line 30 – Acts 20:32

Line 33 – Job 5:18, Hosea 6:1

Line 34 – Revelation 5:1-5

Line 39 – Luke 24:46-47, Thessalonians 4:14

Line 40 – 1 Corinthians 15:55-58

Line 43 – Matthew 10:29-31

Line 44 – Revelation 1:17-18

Line 46 – Hebrews 7:1-17

Line 49 – Mark 14:62

Line 50 – Colossians 2:9

Line 51 – Matthew 11:18-19

Line 54 – Romans 3:22-24

Line 55 – John 14:3

Darkness Has Not Overcome

When darkness wells

around me, I covet

and I grieve;

its serpent, cool and cunning,

vies to poison what I believe.

Dreams fall by the wayside,

like mists that dissipate.

And lust consumes

while anger fumes

to jeopardize my fate.

Wishes are like vapors

that vanish in the heat.

And trust, it wanes,

as trouble remains.

So darkness comes to take a seat…

…beside me in my mourning,

coiled up and poised to strike—

like a lion to devour

the last of my power

as fear mounts and worries spike.

Darkness jeers at all my struggles.

It taunts me in my sorrow.

It scoffs and lies

but I realize

there’s hope

yet for tomorrow.

Because when all is said and done

and sands drain down through the glass

of each tired hour

I will not cower

for I know, this too, will pass.

For what is sadness

and its worth?

What does worldly pity gain me?

But vanity

of the idol, Self,

and the sin of it that stains me.

As for the goading darkness

and all its grim refrain,

I’ll turn from the pain it’s sent..

so as not to dwell

in its brooding hell

and to my God I will repent.

The flesh that craves

can’t own me.

From it I will abstain;

and seek

the Light

that gives new sight,

knowing faith’s not been in vain.

For every stinging sore that festers

in this scorching season

there is purpose for it all—

a plan,

a Way,

a reason.

I’ll not be tossed by waves.

Of false doctrines, I’ll beware.

Hope has become an anchor

of my soul, so I cannot despair.

My joy remains full,

as pure as white wool

of the Lamb

I love so dear.

And I’m undeterred

for waters are stirred

by an angel of the LORD,

so near.

Though darkness vies

and always tries,

like Peter—as wheat to sift;

it cannot dissuade

the Light that pervades

from the grace of God’s free gift!

References from the Holy Bible:

Line 2 – Exodus 20:17

Line 4 – Genesis 3:1

Line 8 – Colossians 3:5-9

Line 9 – James 1:18-20

Line 16 – Matthew 5:4

Line 18 – 1 Peter 5:8

Line 19 – 2nd Corinthians 12:9-10

Line 25 – Jeremiah 29:11, Romans 15:13

Line 34 – 2nd Corinthians 7:10

Line 35 – Ecclesiastes 1:2

Line 36 – Exodus 20:4-5

Line 47 – Matthew 7:7-8

Line 48 – John 8:12

Line 49 – John 9:13-25

Line 52 – Ecclesiastes 3:1

Line 53 – Romans 8:28

Line 54 – Proverbs 16:3

Line 55 – John 14:6

Line 57 – Ephesians 4:11-14

Line 59 – Hebrews 6:19-20

Line 61 – John 15:11

Line 62 – Isaiah 1:18

Line 63 – John 1:29

Line 67 – John 5:3-8

Line 68 – James 4:8-10

Line 71 – Luke 22:31-32

Line 73 – John 1:5

Line 74 – Romans 3:24

When a Dream has Died

A dream has died—

its yellowed pages now curled

all up at their edges…

forgotten, unfurled.

A dream has died—

dried up like old leaves,

tossed away by the wind.

On its door I hang wreaths.

A dream has died—

so for what do I now yearn?

I am mourning its loss

at my every turn.

A dream has died—

long before it was to be known…

like a child lost in the womb,

with no future or home.

Do I bury its memory?

Is that how to cope?

Do I cremate all joy

and abandon all hope?

Do I deny its passing

with each new morning’s mist?

Do I rage on with clinched teeth

while shaking my fists?

Do I beg the Almighty

to away its stone…

when its demise and its end

He, Himself, has condoned?

Do I cry forever?

Do I wallow in strife?

Or do I accept

the Lord’s will for my life?

A dream has died,

and though I am sad;

I will pick up the pieces

instead, and be glad…

for its journey that’s led me

on a less taken road,

onto which I’ll now travel

and make my abode.

The death of a dream—

it doesn’t have to destroy me…

as faith births a new purpose

in which God will employ me!

References:

Line 26 – John 11:38-44 of the New Testament

Line 38 – The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost

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