Crimperman.org

“Whatever mitigates the woes or increases the happiness of others, this is my criterion of goodness; and whatever injures society at large, or any individual in it, this is my measure of iniquity” Robert Burns

“I agree” Crimperman

Image by C.G.P. Gray CC:By

As said, I was at Spring Harvest recently and spent some time in the Create Zone. One of the leaders of that zone was, the talented, Jo Dolby who – among other things – is a poet. Jo read some of her poetry including this one which I found really inspiring.

So I had a go myself – this is the result based on one of the themes of the event – Say: speaking the gospel to those around us. If I get a chance I’ll record myself speaking this.

Say

Say. Say the words that make it better.
Pressure’s on – every word, every letter
has to be just right, to shine the light
that changes live, opens eyes, that can make this person realise
just who you are, how much you care.
For if I don’t say them, how will they hear?
How will they know, where will they go?

But I can’t find the words that matter.
I stumble, I fumble – it’s all just chatter!
My words are weak, too simple, I blunder.
No depth, no breadth, no help? No wonder!
For who would find any hope at all
in a bunch of common words from a fool?

But that’s my language, these words are mine.
They’re all I have – those and my time.
And if all I can do is be myself, is that ok?
It’s not that hard to be who I am but are these
simple, stupid words I say enough
to change lives, open eyes to make a person realise
just who you are, how much you care?

Maybe they are. Is it true that even they – when used by you
could help someone find some hope, find the truth that helps me cope?
Say. Say the words that make it better?
I don’t know but does it matter? To say the words that encourage me,
these simple, stupid words, so free, could be enough, could be okay.
Could be the only words I need to say.

Photo by thisreidwrites CC:By

When we speak of support,
when we speak of its benefit,
when we speak of prayer,
when we speak of what it gives,
when we speak of help,
when we speak of how it’s needed,
why do we speak of a one way street?

Does the flow of love not have any eddys?
Are those who help not also helped?
Do we overlook our need to support?
Do we forget the gain of giving?
Who was it who said we have to lose to gain?

Even if it is a one way street,
Can we afford not to give, to help, to support?

Support, lean
Lean, support
Laugh, cry
Head up, head down
Arms surround

Give, receive
Encourage, wait
Listen, speak
Watch, hear
Holding up

Build, demolish
Step, stand
Hands together
Hands aloft
Standing beside

Sharing the glory
Facing the tragedy Conquering the adversity One step at a time
Together

Knowing you share this journey.
Priceless.

“If only they could see the real me.
If only they knew what I was really like.
If only they could see through closed doors.
If only they saw me away from the public gaze.
Would they still be there?”

But..

What if they do see the real me?
What if the me they know is not fake?
What if the “lie” is the truth?
What if what I think is the truth is actually a lie?
Am I really that good at hiding myself?

And then..

Perhaps I am the one being fooled.
Perhaps I let the door shut out their encouraging words.
Perhaps they’re not as easily fooled as it appears.
Perhaps they have the same fears about themselves.
Maybe we all worry too much about what each other thinks.

If only we all knew how much we care about each other.
What if we stopped worrying and started showing.
Perhaps we could make the world a little brighter.

Grown-ups, we make our own path
Using our own needs as a compass
Indiscretion, excused with a toss of the head
Leave the consequences for now
Time’s aplenty
Yes, there’s time to reflect later

And yet the day comes
No excuses delaying it
Debt is a patient builder

Yesterday’s fun on today’s bill
Every day it’s the same, will we ever learn
Time to settle accounts

Fallen, we turn to our one Hope
Revelation lifting our eyes beyond the debt
Every wrong, every fear. Our account is settled
Every time, it gets paid. Gone forever

We don’t deserve it

Along the road I struggle, stumbling to the ground.
My Love is there to help me, but I’m still looking down.
Slowly, to my feet I climb. Not noticing the hand
That takes my arm and lifts me up. Until, once more, I stand.
Ignorant, I stagger on. “I’ll do better!”, I proclaim.
My Love continues holding me, lest I should fall again.
I feel my burden slowing me. When I can be no weaker
I fall on my Love, and instantly my burden becomes lighter.

I hear a roar ahead now. Refreshed, I start to run.
Confident, I draw my sword. Declaring loud, “Begone!”.
The beast it waits and watches. As down the path I sprint
And as I reach it, shouting. Its’ companions hem me in.
Now I see my trouble is more than I can bear.
“Why have you forsaken me?” But my Love is standing there.
My Love’s fire, it protects me and I, gazing at the flame,
Go with my Love, who’s leading me, back the way He came.

Down the path we travel now, retreating from the deluge.
And my heart is lifted, as I look upon my refuge.
It somehow looks familiar, I’d seen this place before.
It’s the place I ran from, when I first heard the roar.
Once I rest within my Love, then I see the wisdom.
Had I stayed beside my Love, the hedge was my protection.
But even in my arrogance, when I had fled the fold,
My Love had gone there with me and of my hand, kept hold.

How is it mine, this Love then? What deed does it return?
How did I deserve it? How could it be earned?
The Word of God, it tells me, the price is not for me.
But can I faithfully accept that Love like this is free?
And Yet this Love is costly. The law demands a life.
Not mine, I know, because it needs the purest sacrifice.
The price is high and yet it’s paid. On a blood stained tree.
For reasons rarely understood. My Love’s life paid for me.

He knew I could not make it. He knew my hope grew thin.
He knew my past inheritance, that kept me far from Him.
And yet, He breathed His last for me and then He breathed the first.
So I could revel in His Love, my life now free from curse.
So I rejoice now, in My Love. And I’ll declare His Worth
“The Name that is above all names, the Joy of the whole earth.”
And as I call upon my Love ( for help comes from above ).
Know the truth is this, my friend. Jesus is my Love.

Oh Lord will you teach me to pray?
Help me get close to You.
Feels like I’m just not getting there.
Don’t know what else to do.
Do You hear my feeble voice?
Is it worth me trying?
Am I doing something wrong?
Should I lament, start crying?
Is that it, do you want my tears?
Should I fast … again?
Should I say the Lord’s Prayer first?
Or maybe at the end?
What is it that I have to do?
To get an answer from You?
Just when’s the best time for You Lord?
Morning? Evening? Afternoon?

But then, what right have I to ask?
To present this shopping list?
When through the day I run my life,
To suit the things I wish.
Oh sure I’ve read my bible,
I say my piece each day.
But when I come to each crossroads,
I don’t ask You the way.
In searching for the plan to pray,
Perhaps all that I’ve done,
Is complicate what comes down to
A chat ‘tween Father and son.
Perhaps it’s not the order,
Or the words I use.
Maybe I just should just relax,
Enjoy my time with You.

“Hi Dad” I would say to You.
“Hello son, how’s the walk?”
“Not too good, I’m struggling”
“Come here, let’s sit and talk”
And maybe during our chat I’d mention my friend too,
She might want to be adopted?
She’d like a Dad like You.
Oh and while I’m here You know that job, the other day?
What d’you reckon I should do I mean – should I go that way?
Oh yes, let’s spend some time like that I really, really want to.
“Bye Dad, I’ll see you later”
“No son, I’m coming with you”