Grateful Chorus

What a wonder!
The gracious Saviour!

In love he formed me
By grace restored me

His endless mercies
Shower down, concert me

Oh, great rejoicing!
My soul is voicing

I ne’er could fathom
Love’s endless cavern

With gifts abounding
T’ward me, astounding

In grateful chorus
I rise, victorious

The valley of trouble
By hope, smoothed of rubble

So I walk on in peace
Toward the bridegroom’s feast

I sing, in grateful chorus

22/1/2020

King of Glory, Prince of Peace

He has been my King of Glory

My rest, as Prince of Peace

On solid ground,

When waves surround

At journey’s start or when complete

My guiding light when dark descends

Leaves footprints in the sand

Amidst tumult, calm

Or eye of storm

Beside me, takes my hand

In life, and death, and season’ change

Obscured, or within view

He upright stands

Bends low with hands

To embrace, or pull me through

19/1/2020

A Song for the Season

The soul greatly shows all of greatness, supreme

And the breath of life, leaping, has a great song to sing

Of Divinity’s power and Redeemer’s great love

That in grace and in mercy, lives among us, the dove

As he looked all around, his gaze firmly set

On we who are bound, for by love we’re beset

We beheld from a wide-open eye and confessed

That as one, so the whole, through the ages he’d bless

You see, he who is able – has the power to do

Has made done the magnificent, for me and for you

So, in awe and as sacred, we hold to his name

Consid’ring his power and mercy, rests on each one the same

Evidently wielding the strength of his own

Through dispersing those high, in thought and in soul

Satisfying those longing with that which is good

And those possessed of abundance, sent empty to brood

The great one who succours the child of his love

In his mindful compassion and goodwill toward

Accordingly speaking to those gone before

Our father of faith, and those sown, evermore

Luke 1:46-55

24/12/2019

Christmas Greetings

The Compassion and the Passion

A merciless master

My suffering prolonged

O sin, you would have me

Alone, without song

My saviour, the servant

Compassion’s concern

Would pursue all my rescue

E’en while I yet spurned

With glory obscured

Power hidden, en-veiled

He served us, his humans

Then the mountain he scaled

Raised to be lowered

Shame brought release

For my sin-burdened soul

To find its long-lasting peace

In your death…

The inherited cycle is broke

Sin’s hold cannot keep me

Your new life brings me hope

Life-blood’s passed on

From parent to child

In your blood shed abroad

I’m no longer beguiled

Sin’s great deception?

That I’m still compelled

To do all its bidding

That I’m under its spell

But my Jesus, you triumphed

In freedom, empowered

A spirit-led choice

To walk the life I’m endowed

With bended knee’s adoration

In restored humanity, stand

Before the depth of your feeling

Poured over me, by your hand

19/4/2019

Shepherding

Crisp and clear, morning begins.

As light becomes all encompassing, the fiery glow on increasing cloud…recedes.

The morning will be fresh, if not a little heavy, foretelling of an over-shadow later in the day.

The sheep must be moved on; this temporary shelter – house of sticks – will not suffice as the sun moves across the sky, the cloud and all its company rolling in.

A rousing call, tap a few tails with a crooks end, perhaps a flap of the arms now and then…they’re up and on the move.

They’ll need nourishment early; storms may rumble in sooner rather than later. Well-fed sheep will be better able to ride out storms later on.

A graze in this fresh green gully; water the flock down below; shelter from inclement weather amongst established trees, enclosed within the secure boundary of a holding yard.

Yet holding yards, shelter and nourishment alone are not enough. Keep watch! Alert to risk and danger; ready and willing to act, to rescue, to protect.

Gates and fences blow over, are damaged by falling limbs, rushing waters…the onslaught of varied weather – predictable and temperamental; and the passing of time – worn and weathered, weary of bearing weight and strain.

Wild animals will seek prey; there are those who would take the flock for their own.

The Chief Shepherd, possessor and nurturer of this flock watches and enables the under-shepherds to fulfill the call to care, attend, cultivate, keep and cherish.

These ones know the voice, direction and undertaking of their Shepherd. They respond well when they perceive his influence in and amongst us.

So, a crook to keep within safe boundaries.

An eye out for fields of nourishment.

Safe spaces for rest and refreshment.

Wisdom, strength, compassion and the will to fight off those who would steal and destroy.

And when some are lost, taken, devoured, appeal to and rest in the Great Shepherd…who saw their wanderings, observed our distraction, allowed and curtailed the thief and false shepherd, and will pursue them and us in justice, mercy and all that is good, pure, right and lovely.

Gina Marie 21/7/2015

The Tree

A tree stood outside of the village.

Few noticed the tree as they went about the business of their days and nights.

But of those few who saw the tree, and stepped aside from the road to look closer, none would remain as they once were.

All who came to the tree saw their names carved into the timber.

All who kneeled before the tree and reached out to touch and own that they recognized their own name on this tree, grateful that they were named there, found they were washed by the tree’s life-blood, till they were clothed anew, white like light.

By this light were these few of the few given to see their gifts beneath the tree – once again, named with their own name.

Of these few clothed in white light, some would never open their gifts, some would open, but never use that contained within.

But a few of these few would receive, open, and use their own named gifts. They would provide for each other by use of these gifts. They would provide for those whose gifts remained unopened or unused. They would even provide for the passers-by, on the road and in the village.

As these few, of the few, of the few accessed and used their gifts, their gifts increased in depth and beauty and strength – and the few grew themselves, in strength, beauty, joy, insight and peace – their light shone brighter with every use of their gifts.

And those who came to the tree, saw their name engraved there, but would not acknowledge it as their own, nor embrace the tree and its gifts with gratefulness, wandered endlessly.

Unsettled in the village, unsettled on the road, and resentful of the tree…

…The tree stood outside of the village, off the oft-travelled road, but high and lifted up on the hill…

the bestower of life, gifts, restoration and purpose.

22/5/2015

The Tree

 

Life

My beginning was first breath from You

Existence, ne’er before been hewn

But love and grace and choice make new

A life that You have given

 

Rebellion was of all my choosing

But choice from You was all redemption

Beaten, lonely, scorned and bleeding

Your life that you have given

 

Accepted, chosen loved and wanted

Washed by blood, my purchase granted

Belonging, living, free, untainted

New life that You have given

 

Free to live in joy unending

Peace and purpose all Your sending

Sing Your praise, all are bending

This life, we have been given

14/5/2015