The 12 Gospel Days of Christmas

The following is my article for the Buffalo Center Tribune for this week. It is a poem I published here last year but thought it was worthy to share again. To God be the glory


The following is a poem that I wrote for the end of the twelve days of Christmas last year, 2020. I share it with you now – before Christmas – to prepare your hearts for the Good News of Jesus. For you see, Jesus is more than the “stuff” of Christmas. Jesus is God incarnate; love made manifest; forgiveness; salvation; mercy and Life. Jesus was born in a stable FOR YOU and FOR ME. Christmas, not just twelve days but every day, is about Jesus. And so, to the glory of God, I present you this poem:
My true Love doesn’t give me things like partridges or turtle doves, French hens or pipers piping, dancing ladies or egg-laying geese. My true Love does not give me silly things like these. My true Love, Jesus, gave to me…
(1) Instead of a partridge in a pear tree, I have a Savior who died for me.
(2) Instead of two turtle doves, I have His love that came down from above.
(3) Instead of three French hens, I have the faith to boldly pray my amens.
(4) Instead of four calling birds, I have His inspired, infallible, inerrant holy Word.
(5) Instead of five golden rings, I have a Spirit-renewed heart that sings.
(6) Instead of six geese a-laying, I have confidence that with Him I will be staying.
(7) Instead of seven swans a-swimming, I have a joy that is more than brimming.
(8) Instead of eight maids a-milking, I have His promises fulfilled that He’s not bilking (yes, that’s a word – and used correctly).
(9) Instead of nine ladies dancing, I have a place in His holy court, at whom I won’t be just glancing.
(10) Instead of ten lords a-leaping, I have security in His hands in which I have safekeeping.
(11) Instead of eleven pipers piping, I have the sure and certain hope that my tears He will be wiping.
(12) Instead of twelve drummers drumming, I have excitement that my Lord Jesus will soon be coming.

My true Love gave me everything I need, for all that I need is Him. And all that YOU need is him as well. Merry Christmas and Amen.

Alone

It is not good for one to be
alone.
Oh, my God, how I long to be
known.
Known by brothers and sisters,
Connected in Christ,
For we are stronger together,
Let me say that twice.
It is not good for one to be
alone.
Alone I am vulnerable.
Alone I am weak.
Alone I am indefensible.
Here I do not misspeak.
It is not good for one to be
alone.
But even though my brothers and sisters are distant –
for now,
I am never truly
alone.
For through Jesus’ blood,
and his life,
my sins he did
atone.
Oh God, my God,
thank YOU that I am never truly
alone.

The Sound

Sitting in the silence,
with only a trickle of light,
teasing the darkness.
A cup filled with liquid pleasure
warming my hands.
Listening.
The silence is loud,
yet,
small, insignificant sounds distract me,
pulling me away from the moment,
the Sound.
I must silence the sounds –
wading through the clutter –
and return to the Sound,
the Voice,
the One.

Mayah’s Poem

The following is my newest article for the Buffalo Center Tribune. To God be ALL glory, Amen.


About four to five years ago I started to write poetry. No, these are nothing that are book worthy or something for which to cross the street. They are simply smatterings that come from my heart. Sometimes the rhyming is a little corny and I probably break all the poetry rules (if there is such a thing). But suffice it to say, I write these poems as an intellectual exercise but mostly as a spiritual discipline. Thinking about word choices in order to communicate a message in a powerful and meaningful way is something that leads me into deeper thought and reflection on the given topic. But sometimes I make things way too difficult (in poetry and in life). At times I get frustrated when I cannot come up with the perfect word(s) to rhyme with other word(s) that I have chosen. Sometimes I can spend days or longer working on a poem. Sometimes I walk away from the poem and thus forget about it; allowing the moment to pass. Sometimes I turn this simple joy into work and thus lose the joy. Sometimes I just need to take a page out of my daughter’s book.


One night my wife and I were preparing supper. As we started to put everything on the table, we called to our children to wash their hands and come to the table to eat, but both were preoccupied. Malachi was busy with his Legos and Mayah was downstairs in what we call her art studio. After my wife and I got everything set we called to them again, but still nothing. Frustration arose and we were getting annoyed. My wife and I eventually started dishing up our plates. We were going to eat with or without our children. Eventually Mayah showed up and excitedly asked, “Can I pray tonight? I wrote a prayer poem. Can I pray? Please!” I immediately felt guilty for being annoyed and responded, “Of course you can.” We stopped dishing up our plates in order to pray. This is what my 8-year-old daughter wrote (I share this with her permission):


God, thank you for this food.
I may or may not be in a good mood.
You comfort my family.
You give us clothes to keep us warmily.
You keep us happy when we may not be.
I love you because you love me.


And yes, I know “warmily” is not a word, and she may have broken every poetry rule in the book, but that’s alright, for it came from her tender, loving heart. Sometimes we just need to stop making things so difficult and become like a child. Sometimes we just need to slow down and not take things so seriously. My daughter’s prayer was one of the best prayers I have heard in a very long time; for it spoke to my heart. Thank you, Mayah, for your prayer poem. Thank you for making a “difficult” thing look so easy. Thank you for sharing your heart and the joy within. To God be all glory, praise and honor. Amen.

Okay

My God hears me when I pray,
each and every day.
He hears me when I cry,
til the day I die.
He knows my very heart,
and yet He’ll not depart.
He knows my every sin,
the darkness there within.
He’s ready to forgive,
through Jesus I will live.
He’s ready to remake;
my heart He’ll not forsake.
So hear me when I say,
with Jesus you’re okay.

Uncomprehending Grace

Jesus my Lord, my Savior, and my friend.
With me always all the way to the end.

He heals me, saves me, and delivers me.
He holds me, loves me, and in him I’m free.

I’m disobedient and obstinate.
He’s always and ever compassionate.

Jesus my Lord, my Savior, and my friend.
Oh God, Your grace I’ll never comprehend.

Uncomprehended

I just cannot comprehend –
Holy that you are –
that you would save
A sinner such as me,
You, the Creator of the land, sky and sea.

But it is me that you redeem,
Through Jesus Christ my Lord.
It is me that you redeem,
Forever I am adored.

So instead of wasting time,
Trying to comprehend,
To You my praise will ring,
To You it will ascend.

Glory in the Cross

Oh, in the cross of Christ I glory,
For it tells my salvation story.
A sinner,
dead,
lost,
and condemned;
floundering,
here and there,
and going nowhere.
Seeking pleasure,
worth,
all here on earth.
Striving after wind,
and Breath,
and gaining only death.
But on the cross my Savior died,
taking all my sin,
this life,
my strife.
Then Jesus rose from death for me,
taking all my self,
my soul
now whole.
And now I live, I mean, really live,
a life unending,
all transcending.
For, now its Jesus,
only Jesus,
now and forever,
He will never sever.
And so I’ll glory in the cross of Christ.
Oh Jesus my Lord,
it’s you I adore.

Confession in the Morn

I rise in the morn and raise my prayer,
Seeking earnestly to clear the air.
My sins are great and many are they,
But Jesus died and for them he did pay.
He paid for my sins so lovingly.
He saved my soul so amazingly.
Redeemed am I and thus I will live.
Redeemed am I my life I will give.