At His feet

At His feet

 

My tears flow as I kneel at His feet

Tears of shame, remorse, regret

Tears of helplessness, confusion, need

I have no right to be here

Yet there is nowhere else I can go,

I can only lay my heart bare

At his feet - I need him so.

And he doesn’t push me far away

Or tell me roughly just to leave

Instead he draws me closer still

And whispers love words in my ear,

Forgives my sin, removes my shame

Helps me to stand and smile again

Can I Trust?

Can I trust?

 

Am I afraid to take the chance?

And surrender to this promised love

I guard and shield my trembling heart

From disappointment, pain and hurt

So can I take this offered hand?

That beckons me to live life loved

Can I trust that gentle smile?

Those open, honest, loving eyes

Oh Lord I really want to come

I want to take your offered love

I want to let you in my life

I want to trust and live life loved.

So thank you that you don’t give up

Persistently you woo my heart

You know me inside out my Lord

Yet still insist to offer love

Unspoken......a poem

Apologies to the one or two people who may see this. Just needed to try to put some feelings into words. Feel free to ignore this.

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Unspoken

 

How do I express just how I feel?                  

What words can convey my emotions

A blood stain on a page may do

Could depict the pain within me

And show frustration with myself

Confusion, failure, longing

Only floods of tears – contained unshed

And bottled deep inside me

Can write with dark invisible ink

To describe the heart within me

 

A couple of Poems from a place of struggle

A prayer

 

Inside is a fetid place

Firmly shut and bolted

Where all the rubbish in my life

Has just been quietly posted.

The stuff that makes me burn with shame

Embarrassment and heartache

The things I would rather forget

That wouldn’t fit my image.

It is a dark and smelly place

But now it must be opened.

For you alone can clean this mess

This putrid rotten dungeon.

I’m sorry, Lord that you should see

And have to bear this burden.

I come to you so helplessly

Only your blood can cleanse

This mess I now to you surrender

Please cleanse, forgive and heal me

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Don’t lose me

 

Lord don’t lose me as I drown again

As I sink beneath this gloom of sin

Forgive me, oh my Lord, I pray

Restore, refresh, direct my way

Help me to taste again the joy

Of knowing that your love is sure

Of walking close beside you Lord

Holding your hand, my father God.

And even in this deep dark space

Of mixed emotions, of toxic waste

Help me to know your presence still

Don’t let me stray outside your will

 

 

 

 

 

 

A couple more poems

Just a couple more poems, now I am back in the swing of getting into my blog page. The first one was a prayer during one of those times when the black dog of depression had me baled up in the corner again a little while ago.

The second one, 'Come Follow', sort of wrote itself the other day. I had been having my quiet time the reading was in John, where Jesus talks about being the good shepherd, and his sheep recognising his voice. In the reading notes I was using the writer asked the question, 'what is distinctive about Jesus voice'. It sort of got me thinking about how I would recognise his voice, how would I or do I know it is him, and how can I hear above the busy noises of work and weariness.

 

I hope any of the 2 or 3 people who read this blog might find these poems touch a spot somewhere in their hearts.

 

 

 

A prayer from the Pit 

Sadness Lord

Sadness and sorrow

Weariness Lord

Weariness and pain

Weeping Lord

Weeping and heartbreak

Help me Lord

I’m in the pit again.

Praying Lord

Praying and hoping

Reaching Lord

Reaching out to you

Pleading Lord

Pleading you’ll here me

Waiting Lord

Waiting for you

 

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Come follow

Hush child, be still, come follow

I am with you, I will not leave

I will never fail or desert you

Be still, come listen, come sit awhile with me

I know the clamour, I hear the noise

I know the things that worry you

I know your sin, it is forgiven

Forgive yourself, stand up and follow.

Be still little child, be still love of mine

I am here, always near

Come hold my hand do not fear,

You are mine, you belong

Come follow

 

 

 

 

 

a couple more poems

Someone mentioned today that they hadn't seen any blogs from me for awhile, I hadn't realised anyone had seen them except for one friend. So anyway here are a couple more poems especially for my two known readers.

THE HEM OF HIS ROBE

 

Empty, drained, exhausted she came

To touch the hem of his robe.

Secretly quietly and very afraid

She crept to his side in the crowd.

Hoping that no one would notice and see

Hoping this really would work,

Trembling in anticipation and fear

She reached for the hem of his robe.

Immediately, instantly she knew she was healed

And quietly started to go,

When he turned and demanded with authority

“Who touched me? I felt the power flow.”

Trembling again, mingling shame, fear and hope

She tentatively whispered “’twas I”

“I needed you; you were my last only hope”

“I touched the hem of your robe.”

With compassion he looked at the woman and said

“Go in peace child, your faith makes you whole.”

 

Empty, drained and exhausted I come

To touch the hem of his robe.

I just want to quietly creep to his side,

I need him to heal – make me whole.

As I reach out with weak trembling hand to take hold

And touch the hem of his robe

I realise that like that woman before

He won’t let me just turn and go.

He wants me to know that he cares for me too.

He wants me know of his love.

He wants me to know he’s aware who I am.

It’s faith in him alone makes me whole.

 

 

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Will I let you wash my feet?

 

Will I let you wash my feet?

Could I let you stoop to serve?

Or Would I feel as Peter did

“Not my feet Lord” could be my words

Yet you show your servant heart

Though you are mighty Lord and King

And you have bid us copy you

To stoop and serve the way you do.

Then we, with humble heart will wash

The aching, dirty feet of those

Who come with trembling fearful hearts

And need so much your love to know.

If we with love reach out to them

Our fellow travellers on life’s road

We do in fact bless Jesus’ heart

We serve our own beloved Lord

Yet, harder still we sometimes find

When others serve us in this way

We squirm away from helping hands

When we with grace should really say

Thank you Lord for sending us

These loving hands to ease our way

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mary and Martha

Mary’s Gift

I am sure he understands what I have done.

He knows that this perfume I have poured over his feet is a gift of love. Some of the others here, his friends, are angry with me because of my actions. This perfume was very expensive and they see it as a waste of money, but I know he understands and that is all that really matters.

I love this man so much; I have never known what it feels like to have this kind of love in my heart towards someone before. It is so different from any feelings I have ever had towards any other man; so different and so wonderful.

He rescued me from a very bad place in my life. He alone has looked into the very darkest places of my soul, yet he has only ever offered me grace and mercy - never condemnation. He gave me hope to live again, showed me God’s forgiveness. I enjoy nothing better than to sit quietly at his feet and listen to him talk. His words both thrill me and confuse me.

I do truly believe he is the Messiah, the promised one and the very Son of God. How can I not when he brings God’s power into our own home? My brother Lazarus was dead, we were mourning him, we had hoped Jesus would have come and healed him, yet Lazarus was lying in a tomb by the time he got here, however Jesus stunned us all; he had the stone in front of the tomb rolled back, then he called out to Lazarus and my brother walked out alive! Jesus takes my breath away and I love him so.

More and more lately he has been talking about what must happen to him soon. He tells us plainly that he will die. I can’t bear the thought that this lovely, amazing man, my Lord, has to die. I don’t really understand. It is true that he has made quite a lot of enemies amongst the religious leaders, they are jealous of his popularity with the people, and don’t like some of his teaching, especially when it makes them look bad. Yet the thought of something happening to him breaks my heart, I love him so. I just wish I could somehow keep him safe so he could be here with us always, but I know his heart is set on what he must do, what God wants him to do. He is determined to go forward and face whatever awaits him, and that he tells us, will be his death. Yet he also talks of his resurrection, he even told my sister Martha that he himself is the resurrection and the life.

I don’t really understand any of this completely, but in my heart I know that whatever occurs it won’t be the end, somehow something will happen, God will do something, just look at what happened to my brother. What I do know is that when he talks about his coming death my heart breaks and I feel that somehow things will never be the same again for any of us.

That is why I have poured this anointing oil on him now. It was intended for a burial, his burial, but I feel it would be wasted then - when he is lying cold in a tomb. I want him to be able to enjoy this perfume now. I want him to know that this gift I am pouring out at his feet is my heart’s way of saying; ‘Go – do as you must, and may it be as you say. My heart lets you go although I don’t fully understand why this must be. You have my love, devotion and respect my Lord and may this gift that I pour out at your feet be a comfort to your heart’.

I know he understands what I have done.

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Martha’s Gift

I am sure he understands my gift to him.

I love with all my heart this man who is sitting at my table. I wish I could serve him this way every day of my life. I love what he has done for me and my family, especially the way he has just stood up for Mary when the others were angry with her for pouring out that expensive perfume on his feet. I understood what she was doing and so did he. She loves him so much too; he has made such a difference in her life – in all our lives really.

I realise that sometimes I get a bit caught up in all the cooking and serving, I don’t always stop and listen to what Jesus is talking about. I hear bits and pieces of the conversations and occasionally I feel missed out. He understands this too. He has talked to me in the past about this, about what is really important. I love it when he does talk to me face to face. He is so direct, he doesn’t talk down to me, and he really connects with my heart.

For instance, just recently when my brother Lazarus got sick and died; I couldn’t understand why Jesus hadn’t come to heal him. He healed all sorts of people and Lazarus was his friend, so why hadn’t he come to heal him? As it turned out my brother had been in his tomb for four days before Jesus and his friends finally arrived. I knew he loved Lazarus so I asked him why he hadn’t come sooner. He spoke directly to me then, he told me clearly that he was the resurrection and the life, that everyone who believed in him would not die but have eternal life. Even though Lazarus was lying cold in his tomb, Jesus words warmed my heart and gave me hope. I loved that he spoke to me of who he was so clearly, not in riddles. I felt honoured by the respect he had for my intelligence, that he felt able to talk to me in this way.

Well I expect you have heard about what happened next, I think everyone around here knows the amazing truth of how Jesus went up to the tomb and called out to my brother and Lazarus walked out of there alive. I still can’t get my head around it all. Jesus takes my breath away, I love him so.

Right now Jesus is in great danger. He has powerful enemies who want him dead. He talks about his coming death more and more, which I find hard. I don’t want this man that I love so much to be in danger or die. I wish I could shelter him forever in my home. I would love nothing better than to be able to serve him here, to cook for him, to take care of his needs, but his heart is set on what must come. I truly believe he is the Messiah, the Son of God, and I know his greatest love is for God and his greatest desire is to do God’s will, and he says it is God’s will that he be handed over to his enemies and put to death. I don’t fully understand this, yet I keep remembering our conversation at Lazarus’ tomb about resurrection.

I understand what Mary has just done, pouring out that perfume which had been intended for his burial. I hope he understands my gift to him too, that he hears what my heart is saying as I serve him, ‘I have poured my love, gratitude and devotion along with my tears, into this meal I have prepared for you. I pray this gift of my service to your needs will warm and comfort your heart’.

I know he understands my gift to him.