Seasons

July 26, 2011 at 11:04 pm (Poems) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

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Sometimes the heart seeps with wearied weeping

The tears are the wounds that only the eyes feel

The heart has grown a callous to the beatings

And becomes hard to know what’s real

Things stack up and clutter the shelf

They hide the dust of neglect

The strength to clear it out lays beyond a hill

Steep and wearier still

Then Your Word blows in a gust

And kicks up that laden dust

And the clutter seems as so much garbage

Calling the heart to rain a cleansing deluge

Like a flood – the tears pour out

And sweeps away the clutters doubt

And reaches out for hopes refrain

And love comes calling us back again

There is no rhyme or reason to the heart or its many seasons

There’s only a Potter who shapes and molds this clay of me

There is purpose to times of dryness

Times to harden – and break and crack

Then there’s a time to be filled with sadness

Sometimes explained – sometimes not

Most always the explanation lies on a distant shore

Where the tide is always pulling towards You, Oh God

I thank You for the unexplainable – unimaginable – pull of Your will

This heart – no matter – knows its Maker

In drought or flood – cracking or filling

It will always find its way back to its harvest

The Love of a Father for His Children

A Groom for His Bride

A Shepherd for His Sheep

Calling – Calling

Come – Drink of the Living Water – it’s free!

Come – My lambs – Come back to Me!

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My Heart in His Hands

May 23, 2011 at 4:18 pm (Poems) (, , , , , , , , , )

I’m picking up the pieces of a life gone wrong, bending down and reaching and the pieces are gone. As I look I see a pair of feet just within my view, then a Voice says, “Don’t you know I picked it up for you?” Standing up and glaring, “Give it back!” I shout. ” I never said you could have it, it is mine!” I pout. “Yes, it’s yours there can be no doubt, but if you take and keep it for yourself – it’s dead. Let Me take it and it’ll bring you life instead.”

The Voice, I knew, I’d heard it many times before. Humbled I threw myself in a heap upon the floor. I kicked and screamed, fighting with myself it seemed, then the Voice reached in and touched my heart with His Hand.  “Be GONE, you screaming darkness – Let her go! I demand!” A Light of blinding brightness seemed to shake earth and sky. I recognized the Voice of the One I cannot deny. I kissed His feet and felt a Love, so profound. He gently cupped my face, within His smile my fears unwound.

Opening His Hand I saw my heart was there. “You see, My Child, your heart has always been in My hands. The broken pieces in which you’re reaching is your heart, understand? And when you take and try to fix them they turn to sand, but in My Hands its whole and beating and it shines you see? If you want it, I’ll give it back, My Child.” He said to me.

I looked up stunned as He held it out to me, and lightly wound my fingers over my heart in His Hand. “It is not mine, was always Yours, My Lord, My King. In Your hands my heart is a song that none but You can sing. Hold it close for all my days and sing Your song. My heart in Your Hands is where I belong.”

His head thrown back, He shouted out a mighty laugh, and began to sing…the song of my heart in His Hands. The song of the Redeemed! And all of Creation….gave a standing ovation….

~ 2006  ~ Lisa VanValkenburgh

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