Poems

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2016: Page 235

Page 235 was a Monday which included a visit from our pest control service which meant I needed to be at work by 6 AM.  The early start to the day allowed me to get the cleaning done and a few maintenance tasks taken care of before the start of the school day.  Being Monday, I eventually settled into some prayer and listening time to find a topic for next week’s prayer guide.  I eventually settled on the topic of honesty as it seems to be a subject worth spending some time in prayer about as we seek God’s perspective.  God often ties honesty and integrity together as He expects us to not only be honest but to speak and live with integrity in the way we follow through with what we say.

Much of the morning was spent in time with God putting the prayer guide together and following up on some projects from last week.  With the early start to the day, I headed out shortly after noon to pick up some supplies for a couple work projects to do tomorrow and then got some lunch before heading home.  The afternoon was a combination of relaxing and going through camera equipment in an attempt to decide if there are pieces that I will likely not use again and need to try to sell while they still have value.  After supper I went out and took a few photos around the house, including the hibiscus blossom that made it onto today’s page.  As I look at the photo, it reminds me of the transparency, or honesty, that we need to have so the light of Jesus can shine freely through us.  At first glance, it could appear that this blossom has a light in the center of it but that is simply the light of the sun shining through it.  Jesus says that our life ought to shine in such that people would see our good works and glorify God — because it is obvious to them that He is the source of our good works and light.

Today was also my dad’s 80th birthday, so I want to include on today’s page a poem I wrote to honor him on Father’s Day two years ago.

My Dad

It’s getting late, I should be in bed.
But it seems like a poem is stuck in my head.
It rolls around in there, and seems to want out.
To be set in print, to stop rolling about.

So here I am, with keyboard and mouse.
Alone in the basement of a quiet house.
The topic is fitting – all good, nothing bad.
A poem’s trying to form that would honor my dad!

A harder worker, I surely don’t know.
He taught me so much by the seeds he did sow.
And while there was much he did plant in the ground.
It was seeds full of wisdom that did always abound.

I know there were days that he probably thought.
Will these boys of mine ever do what they ought?
I’m so very glad that my dad still can see.
Just what kind of man that I’m growing to be.

As I look back in time and down through the years.
I pray that my life now has made up for the tears.
I learned how to work and I learned how to play.
From my mom and dad as they showed me the way.

Dad worked very hard — in fact, he still does.
It’s his way of life, not just something that was.
But even in work, there was room for fun.
Dad helped me to see; I needed both, not just one.

Some days at the sawmill, we’d walk home through the wood.
And jump in the pond, like every boy should.
There always were chores that had to be done.
But when they were finished, there was still time for fun.

Dad doesn’t say much, but that is okay.
For I understand, I am much the same way.
His actions speak louder than words ever can.
I know he’s beside me, as my biggest fan.

There is so much I do, as I step back and look.
That I learned from my dad, it can’t be found in a book.
Dad showed me how to invest life in life.
As he builds up his children and loves his own wife.

I’m sure there are things that are clear in my mind.
That if I could see now, something different I’d find.
My recollection — of vacations, you see.
Dad would stop anywhere, as long as it was free!

State parks were the norm, of places we’d go.
We could have lots of fun without spending much dough.
So when I grew older, and out on my own.
I have often returned to where those seeds were sown.

To visit some places where memories were made.
I’ve taken my family, and we’d walk in the shade.
The example that I saw, in the childhood I had.
Was a home full of love, and a great mom and dad.

I could go on, with this poem for a while.
When I think of my dad, I can’t help but smile.
He lives life each day, to the best that he can.
And when I grow up, I want to be like that man!

© 2014 by Tom Lemler

I pray that you and I would pursue a life lived with honesty and integrity through the power of God’s Spirit within us.  I pray that we would live and work in such a way that the light of the Son is seen through us in all that we do.  I pray that we would honor our parents in whatever way we are able to.

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2016: Page 226

Page 226 has been a reflective and somewhat melancholy day.  Although it was a Saturday, Susan had no interest in getting up and going to the zoo.  I think the hectic schedule, general craziness of the last month, and the excessive heat and humidity has drained each of us to the point where rest is the one thing we need most.  So while she slept, I spent much of the morning with God praying for wisdom and direction for the prayer ministry as well as praying for my brother and his family.  While the sadness I feel as an uncle is greater than any I thought I could experience, my mind only imagines the pain that must be felt by Breanna’s mom, dad, sister, and brother.  So, I pray for them each day.  As I prayed this morning, a poem showed up in my mind once again so I share it as part of today’s page.  

Never Forgotten

A month has flown past
since we said goodbye.
Yet time has stood still
as we wonder why.
A life filled with purpose
and so much to do.
Would finish so quickly
without saying adieu.

Yet time marches on
while we’re left behind.
To press on with our life
and see what we find.
Each day is a journey
that’s never the same.
The tears may start flowing
when we think of her name.

Yet once in a while,
perhaps not often yet.
A peace fills our soul
that we must not forget.
For Bre is with God
in heaven above.
And surrounds us each day
with her presence in love.

For all of our sorrow
and tears from today.
Will one day be gone,
completely melted away.
But until that day comes
and we see face to face.
We get though each day
with the help of God’s grace.

And on those hard days
when we struggle with grace.
Remember its presence
is not confined to a place.
It will be seen one day,
in a kind stranger’s face.
And be felt another,
in a loved one’s embrace.

So, whatever you’re doing
as you go through your day.
Know you’re not alone
when you’re feeling this way.
The sorrow that grips you
is filled with much love.
Yours for a loved one,
and hers from above.

© 2016 by Tom Lemler

As I finished my prayer time and completed the typing of the poem, Susan decided it was time to get up.  As I helped her get around for the day, I also fired up the pellet grill to begin preparing our traditional Saturday grilled mushroom bacon cheeseburgers for lunch.  Throughout the afternoon I rested some and took a nap before sitting down to write today’s page.  Although the page will soon be written, the day is not done as I will be heading in to work to take care of the cleaning tasks that are necessary so the building is ready for tomorrow.  

I pray that you and I would take time on a regular basis to simply be still before God.  I pray that we would learn to recognize the voice of His Spirit within us as we listen with expectation.  I pray that we would be an encouragement to the people around us as we are encouraged by those God surrounds us with.  I pray for my brother and his family and all who are grieving the loss of a loved one.  I pray that we would be reminded often of the promise from God of a heavenly home for all who belong to Him.

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2016: Page 192 (Breanna’s Song)

Page 192 began early as I headed to the church building to clean bathrooms and do building prep before church services as I didn’t make it there last night.  After a great worship gathering with my Deer Run family, I received a phone call which is the reason today’s written page will be somewhat different than my previous pages in this page-and-photo-a-day journey I’ve been on this year.  I am told that my phone, which was on silent mode, lit up with an incoming call while I was leading the closing prayer time at church.  When I got to lunch after church, I noticed I had a missed call and voicemail from my brother.  The message was simply to call him as soon as possible.  There was an urgency in his voice that had me concerned so I called him before sitting down to eat.  My mind was running through a variety of scenarios — none of which were good — as he asked if I was sitting down and not driving, but nothing could have prepared me or made me anticipate the news he would share.  His youngest daughter, Breanna, had died in an auto accident this morning in Alabama where she was doing a summer internship before her senior year at Purdue.

My thoughts and prayers all day have been with my brother, his wife, their two remaining adult children, and all of the many family and friends who would be trying to process such heart-breaking news throughout the day.  As I prayed, God began to form a poem in my mind that would honor the memory of my niece and her love for life and for God.  The following are the words that God gave me to share.

Breanna’s Song

Sometimes the sorrow
is hard to see past.
When the news hits you hard
that today was her last.
The good parts of life
are painful to see.
When all of a sudden
they’re just a memory.
 
But a life that’s not lived
is no life at all.
And she lived it full
and always walked tall.
No words are enough,
they surely will fail.
To erase all the sorrow
of this chapter’s tale.
 
She lived with such joy,
she wanted it all.
Whether just living life
or playing some ball.
Her faith was alive
for all who would see.
She was loved by her friends
and her whole family.
 
What would she say
if she could still talk?
I think you can tell
by the way she did walk.
Her life filled with joy
was more than just fun.
She lived it daily,
in step with God’s Son.
 
And so in the sorrow
of days yet ahead.
There’s hope in the darkness
of nights filled with dread.
The weeping and sorrow
will last for a night.
But someday we’ll gather
in the heavenly light.
 
So what can we do
as we mourn and grieve?
But to make sure we’re ready
for when it’s our time to leave.
And when we all get there,
I think we will see.
The beauty of heaven
as we gather with Bre.
 
I had a message on my phone when I left church this morning to call my brother as soon as I could. When I returned his call, he gave me the news that their youngest daughter, Breanna, had died in a car accident this morning. As I was praying for Tim, Melinda, Bethany, Blake and the rest of our family and Breanna’s friends, God put this poem in my mind as I thought about her life. I pray that God brings comfort to others through these words and that we would all be ready for our day to be reunited with Bre.
 
In prayer,
Tom
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My Dad (Audio)

This is the audio from the closing of the Father’s Day worship service at Deer Run as I shared the poem God had given me to write about my dad.

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Good Words

Inside of my head,
     words are bouncing around.
I sort through them all,
     to see what can be found.
A piece of a poem,
     a few words that do rhyme.
Some jumbled up thoughts,
     that cut across time.

The words that are loudest,
     they always want out.
Just open your mouth,
     and give them a shout.
Advice such as that,
     is not really ideal.
Before we do speak,
     perhaps we should kneel.

We talk to the Father,
     and look to the Son.
To learn from example,
     how victory is won.
To speak truth with boldness,
     and filled with great love.
Is a lesson we learn,
     when our mind’s fixed above.

Not every insult,
     needs an answer from you.
Perhaps you should stop
     and think all things through.
Will your words help your hearers,
     or just ease your mind?
Will they hear God’s great love,
     or is it hate they will find?

I read from the Bible,
     and this much I know.
Perhaps a solution,
     is to cut down the flow.
To be quick to listen,
     and slow to get mad.
And hold up your words,
     before you say something bad.

So out of this jumble,
     that lived in my mind.
I hope these are good words,
     that I happened to find.
I pray that they’re helpful,
     and good, sound advice.
And they’re shared with the world,
     in a way that is nice.  🙂

© 2016 by Tom Lemler

As I cleaned the church building tonight, my mind seemed to be focused on the harsh rhetoric that I hear and read from people of many persuasions and beliefs, often aimed at each other.  I thought about the boldness of Jesus to speak truth when truth was called for and to be silent when He knew no answer would be satisfactory.  I pray that you and I would seek wisdom from God that would fill us with that balance.

In prayer,
Tom Lemler

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A Gift that is WISE

What kind of gift
     should you and I bring?
When we come before
     the One who is King.
We think and we ponder,
     we search high and low.
We sift through the clues
     that might help us know.

We want the best gift
     and one that is WISE.
Forget all the fruitcakes
     and those ugly ties.
To find the right answer,
     we go back in time.
And examine the Magi
     in the rest of this rhyme.

A gift that is Wanted
     is a good place to start.
And God wants true worship
     that comes from the heart.
The Magi sought Jesus
     to honor as King.
And their gift of worship
     was the first they did bring.

An Intentional gift
     has thought behind it.
It’s not just the first thing
     that you think might just fit.
The Magi did travel
     with one purpose in mind.
Their intent was to honor
     the King they would find.

A Sacrificial spirit
     doesn’t think twice.
It gives of itself
     no matter the price.
The Magi gave gifts
     of time and great worth.
Gifts fit for a King
     as they traveled the earth.

A gift that’s Enough
     would surely be wise.
To meet every need
     without a surprise.
The gifts from the Magi,
     perhaps were the key.
To provide for this family
     when they had to flee.

So, what is the gift
     that God Wants from you?
And what’s your Intent
     on seeing it through?
Will you Sacrifice self
     and all of its cries?
Knowing that is Enough
     to be a gift that is WISE!

© 2015 by Tom Lemler

As I sat at my desk last night and went through the sermon I’ll share the next morning, this poem began to form in my mind.  I pray that it encourages you and helps you to think about how you can give a gift that is WISE to others and to God.

In prayer,
Tom Lemler

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A Christmas Story

‘Twas the night before Christmas
     and all through the land.
People were traveling
     at Caesar’s command.
The roadways were busy,
     the towns they were packed.
But available lodging
     was something they lacked.

Some young weary travelers
     did look for a place.
Where they could rest for the night,
     and perhaps wash their face.
They went inn to inn,
     and perhaps door to door.
But there was no place,
     not even a floor!

Their search did continue
     for someplace to stay.
They were offered a stable,
     out back with the hay.
It sure wasn’t much
     but it’s all they could find.
So they made themselves comfy
     where the livestock had dined.

In the midst of the night,
     the traveler awoke.
With an urgent whisper
     and not so gentle poke.
The words were direct,
     perhaps tinged with some fear.
Now is the time,
     the child’s almost here!

And so it did happen,
     a child would be born.
As Mary and Joseph
     faced that Christmas morn.
Whenever it was,
     whatever the day.
The Christ-child was born
     and placed on the hay.

And out in the darkness
     on a hillside that night.
Some shepherds encountered
     a frightening sight.
An angel from heaven
     spoke out in the night.
To hear such a thing
     filled the shepherds with fright!

Do not be afraid,
     I bring news of great joy!
In the city of David
     has been born a boy!
The One that was promised
     so long ago.
He’s asleep in a manger,
     wrapped in cloths, so you know.

And while they were thinking,
     they must have said, “Oh, my!”
For the heavenly hosts
     did light up the sky.
Saying, “Glory to God
     and peace to all men.”
Now go find this child
     born in Bethlehem.

So the shepherds did hurry,
     there was no time to waste.
They were filled with such joy,
     that they ran with great haste.
They came to the stable
     with a manger as a bed.
And found all the details
     just like the angel had said.

They left that encounter
     and spread the good news.
Telling all who would hear,
     they had nothing to lose.
As they went their way,
     singing praises to God.
They didn’t care
     if people thought they were odd.

And all of the while,
     by the sweet baby’s side.
Mary did treasure
     and ponder inside.
All the joy and the wonder
     of what did occur.
And all that the shepherds
     had spoken to her.

So, this night before Christmas
     what have you planned?
Are you spreading good news
     throughout the land?
Are you so overwhelmed
     by the birth of this Boy?
That you’re praising God
     with the greatest of joy.

When we encounter
     the One born our King.
The question remains,
     just what gift will we bring?
There’s only one gift
     that He wants to see.
That gift is the life
     of you and of me.

©2015 by Tom Lemler

I was asked to read a poem at a Christmas Eve service so I planned on sharing something I had written a year ago.  I arrived a work early in the morning on Christmas Eve and the starlit sky drew me to the river to spend time with God in prayer and worship as I photographed the rising sun.  As I walked and prayed, this poem began to from in my mind.  I believed it was meant to be shared at the Christmas Eve service so I kept repeating it to myself so it wouldn’t leave my mind before I could get back to a computer to type it out.  I don’t know if this was the original version, but enough of it stayed in my mind so that I had a fresh poem to share tonight.  I pray that it encourages you and that it accomplishes all of the purposes for which God gave it.

In prayer,
Tom

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“But” Disease

As I go about work,
     I continue to cry.
Most people don’t notice,
     for my eyes remain dry.
I weep for what is,
     I weep for what was.
I weep from great heartache,
     and I weep just because.

I suffer in silence,
     for who wants to know.
That the little word “but”
     can cause me such woe.
People say great things
     that should build me up.
And then it is followed
     by that little word “but”.

It causes great conflict
     in the midst of my mind.
On which side of the “but”
     is the truth I can find?
It shouldn’t matter
     just what people say.
So I cry out to God
     throughout my whole day.

“You do a great job,
     all the people do say.”
“But pack up your things,
     today’s your last day.”
“The way that you serve
     is always first-rate.”
“But we’re changing direction
     so we can be great.”

“You did a great job
     raising the funds we did ask.”
“But it wasn’t done our way,
     so you’ve now lost that task.”
“You’re working too hard,
     your hours too long.”
“But you’re overpaid now,
     your wages are wrong.”

“Your preaching is great,
     it sure builds us up.”
And then comes the dread
     of that little word “but”.
Throughout all my life,
     these “buts” follow me.
Sometimes they’re so close,
     they’re all I can see.

© 2105 by Tom Lemler

As I’ve been crying out to God tonight as I clean the building, this poem filled my mind as God began to show me the damage that this one little word does in my life.  When the poem first began in my mind, I wasn’t expecting it to take the turn it did as I had not really thought about why this season of sadness has returned.  I’m not even sure the poem is finished other than the words quit coming.  As I reflect on the words in front of me, I can’t help but think of the words of Jesus as He says to let our yes be yes and our no be no.  My mind is wired in a way that typically causes whatever comes after the “but” to negate everything that came before.  That one little words plants the seeds of doubt in my mind . . . which did they really mean, the first part or the second part?  Because the actions of people have usually corresponded with the second part, I end up convinced that the first part had no meaning and was just being used to try to soften the cold, hard facts of the truth.  I suppose that this poem is the start of realizing that if I don’t find my complete worth and value in Christ and Christ alone then this “‘But’ Disease” is likely to kill me.  I pray that God helps you to understand these words with the context and purpose for which He has given them.  

In prayer,
Tom