If Our Troubles Looked Like Burdens…

Proverbs 12:18

If our troubles looked like burdens, 
Our pain as bloody wounds,
Our struggles, fears, and worries
Were bruises, stripes, and runes;
Would our sympathy be greater?
Our gentleness grow deep?
If we saw what makes one stagger
And makes the steps grow steep?

If pain could cause an injury,
If words cut like a knife,
If we could see the ragged flesh,
The slowly ebbing life –
Would we choose our tone more gently?
Would we think before we speak?
Would we show more love and kindness?
More hands to help the weak?

If our inner pain and sorrow
Played out upon our skin,
Would we treat each other different,
Then how we’ve always been?
Why would the sight of bruises,
Of cuts and blood and gore,
Be what it takes to get us
To love our neighbor more?

To the KING be all glory!

I Do Not Understand

The loss, the tears, the grief,

The pain that seems to grow.

The broken, bleeding hearts

That splintered by this blow.

They say You’re on the throne,

That all is in Your Hand.

Yet, God, I look around

And I don’t understand.

While sobbing fills my ears,

She trembles in my arms.

I have no words to say,

There are no cheering charms.

They say You’re still in charge,

That all is in Your Hand.

Yet, God, I look around

And I don’t understand.

I dearly want to help,

I watch him struggling.

But I can only stand

And pray You’ll comfort bring.

Oh, God, You’re on the throne,

And all is in Your Hand,

But when I look around,

I do not understand!

Prayers that seem unanswered,

The cries that seem ignored,

The pleas that fell to grief,

Is Your ear deaf, oh LORD?

If You’re still on the throne,

And all is in Your Hand,

Why, when I look around,

Do I not understand?

My own grief comes in waves,

Though stifle it, I might.

The weight I feel, the guilt,

The tears, I often fight.

I know You’re on the throne,

And all is in Your Hand,

But still I look around,

And I don’t understand.

I look into Your Word,

It clearly says You hear.

Yet, promise, it does not,

The answer will be clear.

Nor that while on Your throne,

With all things in Your Hand,

That when I look around,

I’ll ably understand.

Oh, God, increase my trust;

My faith that’s trembling now.

Please comfort those I love,

And bring us peace somehow.

I know You’re on You’re throne,

With all things in Your Hand,

And when I look around,

I will not understand.

You have not lost Your love,

E’re faithful You’ll remain.

I can not see Your plan,

The glory You will gain.

I know You’re on Your throne

With all things in Your Hand,

And one day You’ll allow,

That I will understand.

Until that day, oh LORD,

I give this grief to You.

I give You those I love,

And trust Your Word is true.

You’re always on Your throne

With all things in Your Hand

And when You look around,

You fully understand.

~Rejoice with Those Who Rejoice…

“Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.”
Romans 12:15

Rejoice with those who rejoice…
Not always an easy call.
Rejoicing is easy when felt,
But what if it’s not felt at all?

What if their cause for rejoicing
Stabs a sharp-edged knife in your gut?
It saws and it tears at you mercilessly,
Making its horrible cut?

What if their joy is your sorrow,
Shattering your heart to bits,
Splintering the ruptured fragments,
And grinding to powdery bits?

What if their blessing weighs you
And burdens you to the ground?
What if it flattens, prostrates you,
Ceaselessly your back to pound?

What if their time of rejoicing,
Is instead, your season for tears?
The rivers in your head are broken
And your sobs start to work their gears?

What if, while the other rejoices,
The same fills you with dread and fear?
Apprehension, dismay, or even terror,
Are ever abiding and near?

Oh, Christian, with heart so heavy,
Ready to drown under thy load,
There is Someone Who will uphold you,
Give you strength, as you walk this road.

I can’t say that you won’t continue,
To water with tears, the steps you take,
Nor whether the pain will be lifted,
Or easy your load, will He make.

But He’ll strengthen you as you smile
And rejoice with those Heavn’ly blest.
He’ll bring comfort as you cry unto Him,
And bring your pain to Him, Who knows best.

If, in pain, you rejoice with another,
I promise, despite fear, you will find,
The Almighty Creator of Galaxies
Is loving, compassionate, and kind.

Trust the King of the Universe
And rejoice with your rejoicing brother.
For, in this obedience to Scripture,
We show love to God and each other.

To the KING be all the glory!


~Scorching Tears

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Do you ever hide your face
In a pillow’s friendly folds,
Then let your heart break in bits,
And release the grief it holds?

Do you ever cling so tight,
To an object, stuffed, but dear,
A little doll or teddy bear,
And shower them in many a tear?

Do you ever fall to the floor,
Prostrate and unable to stand,
Letting the sobs overtake your being
Letting them have their demand?

Do you remember, oh, sorrowing one,
When you can’t hold it in anymore,
When you let loose those scorching tears,
When your heart feels like it has tore,

Do you remember the One on the cross,
Who rose with great power and might?
Who holds all of life in His great hands,
Who understand all grief and all plight?

Take your grief, oh sorrowing one,
Take it to the KING from the cross.
He’ll help you to bear the heartache,
He’ll help you to bear your loss.

The grief won’t just go away,
It won’t just give you a release,
But He will carry you through,
And give you His sweet peace,

But first, you have to surrender,
And let go of your own strong will,
Then, let Him take things over,
And in you, His peace, He’ll fill.

To the KING be all the glory!


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“I want to know Thee better,”
The Christian said to his King.
“I promise I’ll start tomorrow,
I’ll begin the very first thing!”

Morning came with the sunrise,
And the Christian awoke in his bed.
“Three hundred and eight things to do…
I’ll begin tomorrow, LORD, instead!”

Tomorrow arrived in all swiftness,
And spotted the Christian asleep,
It was late in the morning when they
Opened their eyes for just a wee peep.

“I’m sick today, LORD, and tired,
I just can’t focus on knowing Thee.
Heal me quickly, so I can get up,
Talk to Thee, and Thy Word study.”

The illness passed like a mist,
Standing the Christian back on his feet.
“Ah! ‘tis so good to feel alive again!
Good health in the body is so sweet!

I want to spend more time with Thee,
Getting to know Thee better, LORD,
But first, I must catch up on my work,
Before time on Thy Word is poured.”

So, it went on, day after day,
The Christian was so busy, indeed!
There was always so much work to do,
There was always some new need.

Day and night, they passed away,
Until one dark, stormy night,
The aged Christian himself passed away,
Never knowing HIM as he might.

“LORD, I was always just so busy!”
The Christian’s last excuse did plea.
But tell me, oh, hectic Christian,
What greater occupation could there be?

To the KING be all the glory!