The Garden Of Eden 6-26-11

The Garden of Eden, perfect...

Not because the trees there had

so many tasty fruits,

not because the roadways had

the smoothest, shortest routes.

Not because they had new cars,

and pleasure-drove for miles,

not because the malls had sold

the latest fig-leaf styles.

Not because their bank accounts

had endless lines of cash,

not because computers didn't

ever, ever crash.

Not because the stores there gave

them everything for free,

not because the weather was

a constant seventy.

Not because attorneys there

would never, ever sue,

not because the skies there were

a perfect, bluish hue.

Not because the locks on doors

had solid gold keys,

and not because the oceans had

the perfect rolling seas.

Is perfection for our comfort,

that God so amply serves -

or for our reverent, humble prayers

that He so much deserves?

The Garden of Eden - perfect,

but after poor advice,

God had to send His only Son -

our perfect sacrifice.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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A Poet 6-18-11

A poet writes no poems
despite a great design,

despite the countless hours,

despite the finest line.

Although we pray and meditate,

although the writing's fun,

although we may be gifted,

we can't write even one.

A poem's written long before

a poet lifts his pen -

and sets on paper solemn thoughts

that's given him from Heaven.

For God sends bits of wisdom,

that sprinkle from above -

as He rains down His blessings

and great, eternal love.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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Proverbs 2: 1-10 (NASB)
1 My son, if you will receive my words
And treasure my commandments within you,
2 Make your ear attentive to wisdom,
Incline your heart to understanding;
3 For if you cry for discernment, 

Lift your voice for understanding;
4 If you seek her as silver
And search for her as for hidden treasures;
5 Then you will discern the fear of the LORD
And discover the knowledge of God.
6 For the LORD gives wisdom;
From His mouth come knowledge and understanding.
7 He stores up sound wisdom for the upright;
He is a shield to those who walk in integrity,
8 Guarding the paths of justice,
And He preserves the way of His godly ones.
9 Then you will discern righteousness and justice
And equity and every good course.
10 For wisdom will enter your heart
And knowledge will be pleasant to your soul;

Worst Man In The World? 6-11-11

The worst man in the world?

Now here's a little quiz...

You wonder what he plans all day?

You wonder who he is?

Who next, could be his target,

and What does he derive?

Where could he be living -

and when does he connive?

Full of anger, vengeance,

and filled with evil malice -

he's certainly indignant.

Hate overflows his chalice.

He doesn't speak with 'forked' tongue,

but tongue split into thirds.

Full of pomp, he'll surely be -

as hot air fills his words.

Full of condescension -

with puffed up head of pride.

His shadow marches step in step,

with presidential stride.

His hands do all the devil's work,

his actions chilling, cold.

His heart is hard as granite stone,

which hurts both young and old -

I had given up myself -

my thinking twisted, curled -

it puzzled me, I couldn't find

the worst man in the world...

I sought once more through window,

and thought, "Where could he be" -

but then found him in mirror and,

he said, "It isn't me!".

The worst man in the world?

Well, maybe I am not -

but I'm my own worst enemy -

who God forgives a lot.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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Comfortable? 6-7-11

Was He in comforts of His home

or in a quiet place -

did He have friends supporting Him

or sleeping in disgrace?

Now did He have a multitude,

and did a riot start -

or did He stand in court alone

with still and quiet heart?

Or did He turn His AC on

while in His leather seat -

or was the load too heavy for

His sore and dusty feet?

Did He have mega speakers that

impressed all of His peers -

or did He hear the insults that

had pierced His humble ears?

Oh, did He have His cocktails or

His open soda cans -

or was He holding something else

in torn and painful hands?

New shoes are quite impressive for

the upper-class elite -

or were new shoes not needed with

that nail that pierced His feet?

Did He have vibrant roses, bright,

and crimson sky that warns -

or was the red that streaked His face,

from unforgiving thorns?

Did He receive great pleasures in

all that He could consume -

or was He the great sacrifice

who laid inside a tomb?

The world cannot be bothered with,

these things that sound so grim -

but if we love our comforts so,

we can't give all to Him.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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I SURRENDER ALL

All to Jesus I surrender,
All to Him I freely give;
I will ever love and trust Him,
In His presence daily live.

I surrender all,
I surrender all.
All to Thee, my blessed Savior,
I surrender all.

All to Jesus I surrender,
Humbly at His feet I bow,
Worldly pleasures all forsaken;
Take me, Jesus, take me now.

All to Jesus I surrender,
Make me, Savior, wholly Thine;
Let me feel Thy Holy Spirit,
Truly know that Thou art mine.

All to Jesus I surrender,
Lord, I give myself to Thee;
Fill me with Thy love and power,
Let Thy blessing fall on me.

All to Jesus I surrender,
Now I feel the sacred flame.
Oh, the joy of full salvation!
Glory, glory to His name!

Words by Judson W. Van DeVenter, 1896:

":The song was written while I was conducting a meeting at East

Palestine, Ohio, in the home of George Sebring (founder of the

Sebring Campmeeting Bible Conference in Sebring, Ohio, and later

developer of the town of Sebring, Florida). For some time, I had

struggled between developing my talents in the field of art and going

into full-time evangelistic work. At last the pivotal hour of my life

came, and I surrendered all. A new day was ushered into my life. I

became an evangelist and discovered down deep in my soul a talent

hitherto unknown to me. God had hidden a song in my heart, and

touching a tender chord, He caused me to sing."

I Wonder 6-4-11

Sometimes I wonder how a tree

can stand the way it does -

so crooked, gnarled and twisted.

I wonder what it was...

What made it lean way over -

its shallow roots in mud? 

Or was its last encounter a -

tornado?  lightning?  flood?

Though I am not an expert,

and haven't much, a clue -

I've often looked at people,

and wondered how they grew.

Opinions leaning way too far

with grumpy, creaking sounds -

they're true, 'un-timbered' miracles

with such unbalanced pounds. 

But God still pours out blessings.

His grace forever flows -

and nourishes the lazy root -

no matter how it grows.

Sometimes I wonder how a man

can stand the way he does -

so crooked, gnarled and twisted.

I wonder what it was...

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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It Matters 6-3-11

Who hugs the little children,

abused and all alone -

if no one cares to look for them?

Real, but yet unknown.

Who hugs the hurting mothers,

(for many have been used) -

if no one cares to look for them?

Real, but yet abused.

Who hugs the unborn babies -

discarded in the trash?

Can life be kissed back into them -

or brought back with our cash?

So many different ways, there are -

that powerful abort -

the old, the young, the innocent,

who have their lives cut short.

The weak, the sick, the handicapped,

are also not exempt -

from those who hold lives in their hands,

below their deep contempt.

The rest of us just sit around,

as if we do not care -

but if their target's placed on us?

"Oh no, they wouldn't dare!"

Focused, if we are, on self,

then we will never see -

an end to all the violence and...

more victims there will be.

Decisions have been rendered.

The damage has been done -

though maybe not affecting us,

it matters to each one.

For God so loved the world.
He listens to each prayer.
He knows if talk is just mere words -
or if each we really care.

Please Vote Responsibly!

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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My Awesome God 6-3-11

Fanny Crosby 1820-1915

I smell the fragrance of the pines

and hear each nature sound.

Something envelopes my thoughts.

Creation's all around.

I sit for several hours but

I can't a sentence write.

Will I be trying hours more,

to write throughout the night?

You'd have to wear some special shoes

to see my unique view -

yet empty are the words I find

explaining God to you.

So try to close your eyes awhile -

in patience.  It's alright.

I'll pray that angels sprinkle words

to help me say this right...

If you could see His miracles

in all I've been forgiven -

if you could also understand the gifts

to me, that He has given -

I wouldn't need to write one word.

His light, you'd finally see -

and understand my awesome God,

though you aren't blind like me.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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Written as I'm reminded of Fanny Crosby (1820-1915), a blind poet who wrote nearly 9,000 poems/hymns such as “Pass me not, O gentle Saviour,” “Sweet hour of prayer,” “Safe in the arms of Jesus,” “All the way my Saviour leads me,” “Jesus is tenderly calling thee home,” “I am thine, O Lord,” “Rescue the perishing,” “Speed away,” “Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine,” and “Jesus keep me near the Cross"..

Once a Scotch minister remarked to her, “I think it is a great pity that the Master, when He showered so many gifts upon you, did not give you sight.”
She answered: “Do you know that, if at birth I had been able to make one petition to my Creator, it would have been that I should be made blind?”
“Why?” asked the surprised preacher.
 “Because, when I get to heaven, the first face that shall ever gladden my sight will be that of my Saviour.”*

 *Moseley H. Williams, The Sunday School World, (Lesson for Aug. 19, 1900 The man born blind, Applications and Illustrations) pg. 302