Praise Not Me
Praise not me
But praise the Father
Who draws and gives
Of life the water
Who shines that we
Might see His glory
Praise not me
This is HIS story
Think not of me
Think much of Christ
Whose work of love
Paid the price
For all the deeds
That I have done
Think not of me
Think of the Son
No power I weild
But ’tis the Spirit
Of Grace who reveals
The Truth when I hear it
Who opens eyes
And changes hearts
Who seals God’s child
And never departs.
Copyright Lauren 2011
What You Seek
I seek a remedy for pain
You only seek my greater gain
I look for breast to rest my face
You give me suffering’s embrace
What is my pain compared to Yours?
My splinters measured by Your thorns?
I seek to walk in comfort’s ways
You seek to teach my lips true praise
I cry because of aching bones
You wish I’d worship at Your throne
What are my tears to darkened stars?
My stitches measured by your scars?
I seek to shun my misery
You seek to teach me harmony
As You Yourself once learned to kneel
So You would have me, e’er You heal
What is my suffering to Your shame?
My aching measured by Your pain?
You do not seek that I would bear
A cross You will not also share
Nor do You seek to cruelly break
What You do not seek to remake
And any pain that leaves me torn
Is lesser then the weight You’ve borne.
This house of clay is not my home
But You teach patience through my bones
I face the fire You’d lead me through
And see the road emblazed by You.
Your suffering puts my pain to naught
This is the lesson You have taught
This is the outcome You have sought.
by Abigail Copyright 2005
My Prayers of Dust
I plead a cause I think is just
With eloquence that man applauds
My guilded prayers melt into dust
Before the mercy seat of God
Is He who formed the mouth impressed
With many words and colored speech?
My empty prayers He sees undressed
And into dust He turns them each
But when I bow my knees and sob
That is a sound His spirit knows
Its measured beat meets with my throb
And cries to heaven overflow
And every word is deeper far
Than all the wells of earthly voice
No sounds of mine could ever mar
The pleadings of that Spirit’s choice
And when my God my prayer receives
It is not empty words He holds
His spirit intercedes for me
And turns my prayers of dust to gold.
Copyright 2004 by Abigail
My Heart in a Field of Dreams
I wonder why my heart does wander
Upon fields of dreams yet to be
Taking along a scythe to harvest
What yet does not belong to me,
When riches all divinely given
Offer now a precious find.
Certainly I would embrace them
If my heart were not so blind.
Across the field I see a light
I gasp-it is a fire!
Sent by One jealous for my heart
To destroy my untimely desire.
“These dreams must be forgotten now
Their ashes will nourish the soil.
My rain and sun will produce in time
The right crops without your toil.
“Simply follow after this Lamb of Mine;
Love Him and do not depart.
Trust Me,” my Gardener and Guardian said,
“Allow Me to keep your heart.”
Done mourning over the barren field
Taking the hand of Love so tender,
My anxious heart finds its rest
At last in humble surrender.
Chasing now this spotless Lamb
I am overcome with glee,
That running through the blossoming field
He is all I see.
A lesson learned now becomes
A message I must deliver:
Fix not your heart upon the dreams-
But on the dream Giver.
Copyright 2006 by Lauren
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Am I a Cheater?
Am I a cheater? Yes I am!
For while I’m waiting for one man
I entertain myself with others
Flirting with my christian brothers,
Trying to catch their eyes and hearts
Enhancing all my better parts
Claiming faithfully to wait
Yet praying not nor trusting fate
But drawing with a thousand views
The one I claim to let God choose
Sometimes with too familiar face.
Who heeds the touch of mind’s embrace?
I try them out in fancy’s date
The whole time claiming that I wait.
Copyright by Abigail 2003
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Remember the Prisoners
Could I erect a monument to my suffering brethren
I’d kneel before it, kiss the marble, shed some tears
Then turn and walk away
So removed from agony as life is far from death
I look, I hear, I close my eyes and weep and pray
Until my comfort fades their pain
To me their pain is words printed on glossy
Bold italic prayer line news
And pictures
Starvation is a word that makes my stomach growl
And shrunken limbs bring gratitude for plenty
But a full belly soon forgets
A little pain can make me feel for suffering brothers
And for a moment rising prayers can bridge the gap
Soon their pain is past my mind
To me their pain is words printed on glossy
Bold italic prayer line news
And pictures
To them it’s breathing down their collars
Creeping up their mind and heart
And engulfing.
Copyright 2006 by Abigail
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Three Runners
Three runners in a grueling course
All took the same hard way,
And one and all they made the choice
To reach the end that day.
The first decided that he would
Enjoy the pretty sights
And settled for a leisure jog
To bring him in by night.
He saw no reason to rush hard
And miss the runway’s pleasure,
But for each minute that he gazed
He lost the prize’s treasure.
The second ran with bursts of speed
But stopped along the way
And throwing himself on the ground,
“Just resting” he would say.
And stopped at every fountain
“Just a drink to keep me going”.
But the fountain at the end
Was so much sweeter in its flowing.
The third one ran as if for life
So fleet his desperate racing.
He looked not at the flowers
And he passed the first with pacing.
He did not stop at fountains,
Or to even catch his wind.
So he passed the second also
And was first to reach the end
To the casual observer
It would seem that he had passed
All the joy that was in running
And in reaching home at last.
The first who ran more steady,
But who gazed upon the way,
Also crossed the finish line
Before the end of day.
But the wreath they laid upon his head
Was not so very rare,
For his mind was filled with flowers
He had seen while running there.
And the second finished also
Feeling fresh and feeling fine,
But the fountain at the end
Was not so fresh nor so sublime.
For the waters he had tasted
Had oft cut his thirsting back.
So the well of life was tainted
By the water on the track.
But the third received with pleasure
Both the wreath of flowers fair–
Thought he’d never smelled them sweeter
As they placed it on his hair–
And he drank with much thanksgiving
Of that rare and sparkling fount.
Having tasted of no other
He relished a large amount.
And because he had not lingered
He much better loved the end.
And the thoughts of treasures boosted
As he found his second wind.
Though the other two had finished
Ere the night had settled in,
They had only run to finish,
He had run the race to win.
Copyright 2005 by Abigail
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What an Awesome God You Are!
What an awesome God you are!
And I? What a small child.
For when You whisper, high winds blow
And swirling droplets turn to snow
While I in wonder wish to know
The way the world goes.
What a knowing God you are!
And I? A senseless child.
For when You warn me of my path
I turn to You with scornful laugh
Until the truth cuts it in half
While, speechless, do I watch.
What a holy God you are!
And I? A sinning child.
For what You gently bid me do
I turn away, ignoring You
Though all Your words are ever true
Yet still, I disobey.
What a loving God you are!
And I? A ransomed child!
For though I never could have earned
The love that through Your word I’ve learned
You grant me, though Your voice I’ve spurned
You lavish it on me!
Copyright 2003 by Abigail
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One Man Against a Lion
Between the spheres of heaven and hell,
Each man must climb the staircase.
And if he has a family
He must guide them in the right.
Prowling in the streets of time,
Seeking wand’ring little ones
There slinks the stealthy lion
Who’d devour in the night.
A wall between that fiend and they
The husband and the father stands
For his treasured family
He must wage a war and win.
And for the souls of every one
That’s given in his care
He’ll render an account to God
If they be lost to sin.
Ah, what a task for any man
To stand between a beast and prey
But if his precious family
Resists, what crushing blow
Might overthrow the very heart
That sought to keep them safe
And tried to teach their tender minds
The way which they should go.
Wives and children, let us gather
Round behind the man we love
As a faithful family
Submitting to his care.
That, when the raging beast attacks
And seeks to drive our guardian back
He’ll find we press him
Forward on the stair.
Copyright 2006 by Abigail
A Lesson From a Rose
“I’d like a little rose to place
Upon my dresser in a vase.”
The pleading eyes of amber hues
How could that look a man refuse?
“Just wait a bit,” the father smiled,
While looking fondly on his child.
“When gone are all the wintry snows
We’ll go and pick a perfect rose!”
The child turned her face away,
“I’ll go and pick one anyway.
My father has great things on mind
And though means only to be kind,
Still I have seen the scarlet blooms
And if I do not take one soon
They’ll wither and then turn to slime
Before my father finds the time.”
So saying, she her small steps took
Down to the arbor near the brook.
She gazed long moments at the wall
All covered with the buds still small
And wondered which the blushing sun
Would mark out as the perfect one.
Her dimpled hand reached out to take
The tender bud yet unawake
Still nodding in the morning light
Before the summer kissed it bright.
Into the vase the small flower went
Without the slightest accident
And soon it graced the dresser top.
It never bloomed, but drooped then dropped.
A flower with perfection’s plan
Was ruined by impatient hands.
The father saw the child’s choice
And though he never raised his voice,
He sighed that it should never come
To fullest beauty in the sun.
He’d raised that rose with her in mind
But his love’s gift she’d undermined
And what, if left to him, would be
The perfect bloom of purity,
Because once plucked it withered there
Was never seen in beauty rare.
How often we grasp much too soon
And seize God’s blessings ere they bloom.
Copyright 2005 by Abigail
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Gone
Posted by Lauren
Gone
And I didn’t know
Gone
And I didn’t ask
The rain started the moment you left
And it began to pour when I found out
Gone
And I didn’t know
Gone
And I didn’t ask
On bright days I saw you
And we spoke, though from a distance
Gone
But where to?
Gone
And with whom?
Last night your candle faded
And the dawn brought endless tears
Gone
Did you know Him?
Gone
Do you seem Him now?
Will I see you again in Sonlight
Or are you lost forever?
Gone
And I never knew
Gone
And I never asked
Gone.
“WHOEVER WILL CALL ON THE NAME OF THE LORD WILL BE SAVED.” How then will they call on Him in whom they have not believed? How will they believe in Him whom they have not heard? And how will they hear without a preacher? How will they preach unless they are sent? Just as it is written, “HOW BEAUTIFUL ARE THE FEET OF THOSE WHO BRING GOOD NEWS OF GOOD THINGS!” ~Romans 10:13-15
A Simple Prayer
A simple prayer I offer
Humbly before Your throne
Oh hear the words I proffer
And take me as Your own
Oh hear my eager crying
Your face my only view
My trembling heart requiring
To be at peace with You.
I ask no other blessing
Than that You own my name
While I am You confessing
Oh do for me the same
Till all the hosts here dwelling
Know as the hosts above
That all my sins dispelling
You claim me with Your love
Indwell Your precious temple
With truth and wisdom’s glow
Make me forever simple
Your word all that I know
And teach my heart to ponder
Each day as ever new
In never ending wonder
The mystery of You
And though this prayer is ending
Cease never our commune
The Spirit which You’re sending
Precedes Your coming soon
Refresh me with the water
Springing to eternal life
I am Jehovah’s daughter
And Your own promised wife
Copyright 2003 by Abigail
Here Lies a Sword
Here lies an unpolished sword-still sheathed
Rusted with doubt and the lies we’ve believed
Neglected, forsaken, left unretrieved
While we create fire-breathing dragons.
The monsters we’ve made with our own traitor hands
Have lept to our throats with murd’rous demands
Vicious in depths only hell understands
Are the horrors required by our dragons.
Upon the stone altar our own hands have piled,
Grown cold with our hearts, with our own hands defiled
We treacherously slash out the throat of each child
A sacrifice meet for the dragons.
We loathe the death-monsters our culture has made,
Still, we surrender, too weak and afraid
To unsheathe our Weapon and sharpen the blade,
To advance on those devilish dragons.
Copyright 2006 by Abigail
Judgment and Blessing
Posted by Lauren
Woe to you who call good evil
And call evil good
The Lamb will come
When time is done
And all will be understood.
Woe to you who lead the blind
Being blind yourselves
The Light will come
When night is done
And punish the sons of hell.
Woe to you who wash the outside
Ignoring filth within
The Judge will come
The Righteous One
And do away with sin.
Blessed are you who fall on grace
Believing in the Savior
Your Prince will come
The Mighty One
And shower you with favor.
Blessed are you who follow the Lamb
Making Him your treasure
Your Joy will come
The glorious Son
To be with you forever!
A Prayer at Christmas
by Abigail
The Christmas season’s come this year,
Its beauty bringing hope and cheer
To friends and family far and near,
And prayer of joy for those held dear.
Reflect our hearts upon Your love
And cause our praise to rise above.
Descend upon us like a dove.
We thank You for Your Son beloved.
Our hearts unite in one accord
To praise our everlasting Lord:
The One whom angel hosts adored-
The Incarnation-Ageless Word.
While gaiety around us cease
Come to our hearts, O Prince of Peace,
And give us tongue and grant us lease
To worship You with full release.
The Masterpiece Your hands had made
Was born in Bethlehem-a babe.
The greatest gift that one e’er gave
Was love that laid Him in the grave!
We ponder at this season’s door
On life that lasts forevermore,
Yet willingly it’s glories pour
Into the vat of mercy’s store.
What wonder, God would stoop to call
The creatures chained by Adam’s fall:
A brand-new Man to reach us all-
What greater grace could us befall?
It is too much for words to say,
For all the heavens pass away
Before the Power we sing today
Could weaken, die or fade away.
So guide our thoughts to think on You
The Light, the Life, the Way, the Truth,
The King to Whom all glory’s due;
Our blessings great, our trials few.
This gift of Christ is all we need.
And for Your loved, lost lambs we plead:
That they would find the Truth, indeed,
And in Your restful pastures feed.
Your holy love should us ignite
To shine as beacons in the night-
As stars that shared their sparkling light
To lend the seekers guide and sight.
Let not our mirth be frivolous,
But all our words be aimed to bless,
Unveiling all the loveliness
Of Christ, the Savior’s, holiness.
Copyright 2003
Pearls and Diamonds 