Gander Story Poems

October 8, 2007

FREEDOM 10-08-07

We are either slave or free. There is no in-between.
Freedom is not tangible, but surely it is seen -
seen on every human face, residing in the heart -
free from any slavery - when we all do our part.

Who can be part master - or be a part time slave -
or sometimes be a little wimp - at other times be brave?
Does freedom have a light switch that we turn off and on,
or is it the foundation that this Nation’s built upon?

Let no one now deceive us - as freedom must be pure,
for if it cracks or crumbles, then slavery is sure.
And let us not be selfish, but protect both young and old -
the innocent from anywhere - marching bravely, bold.

The world forgets so quickly - one man’s deceptive lie ,
who stole the lives of millions - who wouldn't hear their cry.
Many bury deep their heads while terrorists still stalk,
but there’s no time for politics. It’s time to walk the talk.

Jesus' talk was often bold and later He was nailed.
He 'walked' in service to the cross, but freedom had prevailed.
Freedom from satanic grip - though wars there'll always be -
until the wars in souls end, the world can't be free.

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Innocent children, women and men continue to be enslaved, tortured and killed.

Through sacrifice, support FREEDOM for all. Through America, let's build.

©2007 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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My Shattered Heart 10-8-07

Something bad has happened,
I cannot shake this pain.
My heartache never goes away.
My actions are in vain.

There is no single answer.
Pain pierces to my core.
Math contains no formula.
Nothing helps me anymore.

When life has lost all purpose,
deceit lays waste my cause;
and lies have cursed true meaning,
I sit in thoughtful pause.

God, give me one last miracle!
This anguish weighs a ton.
Can the sun reverse a bit,
to turn back what I’ve done?

Everything submits to God,
His intelligent design.
Time is very precious -
and I know it isn’t mine.

I can’t retain a month or week.
A day can't be postponed.
An hour can't be purchased.
One second can't be owned.

Oh, to go back just this once,
and start anew again.
All has passed - forever gone.
I can’t erase the pen.

I hold my sad and shattered heart
in pieces 'til I die;
but His hands hold the nail scars
and hold me when I cry.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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October 5, 2007

A Moment To Smile 10-5-07

(A true story from southern Wisconsin - 2006-07)

Deep into the woods in my truck I seemed lost.
The brisk, chilly breeze was still holding the frost.
Because it was dried up and totally dead,
I decided to cut down this big tree instead.

The ants had been busy all over that tree,
before my big chain saw had made them all flee.
The noise and vibration and all the turmoil,
(had it happened to me, would have made my blood boil).

But they simply scattered if off to the races,
to other safe havens - to other safe places.
My muscles all ached from my head to my feet,
but I felt so content - with my job now complete.

It seemed that my actions were merely a bump,
to ants now so busy inside that tree stump
I wondered which one, if any, had won -
the ants or myself as I thought my job done.

As I sat on the gate of my rusty old truck,
loaded down heavy with logs - was now stuck -
and realized then that it's sometimes worthwhile,
to sit back a moment, a moment to smile.

©2007 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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The Servants Love 10-5-07

I always keep my promises - if not, would be a crime;

Help me through it, through those “keeps”,

Time after time.

Bad news visits often. That's why you see me cower;

Help me through it, through those “visits”,

Hour after hour.

My employer wants me - yells, "HEY! HEY!! HEY!!!"

Help me through it, through those “wants”,

Day after Day.

The infants scream, when us they seek;

Help me through it, through their “screams”,

Week after Week.

Eleven people need my time. Everyone a tenth;

Help me through it, through those “needs”,

Month after month.

My health is failing. You know my greatest fear;

Help me through it, through all “failures”,

Year after year.

This funeral now - just for myself, will put me in a hole;

I know You'll love them through it all,

Soul after soul.

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October 4, 2007

As Your Son 10-4-07

.
I know You loved me from afar,
and lifted me, this soul from tar;
But I'm confused - so prove just how,
a Christ so GREAT - can humbly bow?

I smell the fragrance of Your world,
it excites me so - I've twirled and twirled;
Emotions shoot me up so high,
then drop so far - please hear my cry.

I taste the freedom from my sin,
I feel Your wonders deep within;
In life I've tasted fields' wheat -
to taste Your honey - is so sweet.

I hear Your voice in all I touch.
that still, small voice loves me so much;
You hear my cry from all sins mourns,
and find this rose - among the thorns.

I feel You knocking my hearts door,
I feel it pounding even more.
I've opened up, a little bit,
though faith is lacking - isn't it?

I see Your hand - the nail print,
I've cracked my door. Give me a hint.
A soul so lost, so dead - now free,
You gave me eyes - that I might see.

Should I go out and witness more,
beyond my house, beyond my door?
For if, by grace, the cross You won,
make me as faithful as Your Son....

©2007 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Matthew 26:39
Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed,
"My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will."

Matthew 26:42
He went away a second time and prayed,
"My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.

Matthew 26:44
So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time,
saying the same thing.

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October 1, 2007

The REAL MAN 10-1-07

Some think that they are very tough

and know a thing or two.

They draw attention to themselves

so others notice too.

Some think that they are very tough

with muscles bulging out.

They flex for their own sole desires

so they won't go without.

Some think that they are very tough.

They think that they're so smart.

Enslaved to things they cannot keep,

raw anger finds their heart.

But some day they will sit alone -

to think about their clout.

The first is last, the last is first -

that's what it's all about:

But, through the cries of hate and lies

from "he-men" that are hurled,

A REAL MAN takes up his cross -

the hope above this world.

Yes, some will get so angry when

a REAL MAN loves truth.

A REAL MAN loves children,

their innocence and youth.

While others aren't responsible,

a REAL MAN won't hide.

A REAL MAN's humility -

will overcome all pride.

When others start to steal

a REAL MAN's own shirt,

A REAL MAN will turn away.

A REAL MAN will hurt.

A REAL MAN won't start a fight.

A REAL MAN's not weak.

A REAL MAN must feel the whip...

then turn the other cheek.

When others tear and gouge his flesh,

a REAL MAN won't sway -

for he will love his enemy.

A REAL MAN will pray.

A REAL MAN will bear the nails.

A REAL MAN will cry.

A REAL MAN will bear his cross.

A REAL MAN may die.

But a REAL MAN's forgiven

despite all he's denied -

and they can't kill the REAL MAN,

the REAL MAN inside.

http://www.ganderpoems.org

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Matthew 5:11 (KJV)

"Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake."

Mark 8:35 (KJV)

“For whosoever will save his life shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the gospel's, the same shall save it.”

September 25, 2007

The T and nothing but the T 9-25-07

.
The T is not a score -
that changes in its core.
It IS the whole, nothing less and also nothing more.

T is not a history,
that lives a mystery.
God KNOWS every detail and through them He can see.

Now do not make a fuss.
This poem is for us.
Nothing we can do or say will change so don't discuss.

What's in your little head -
the universe instead?
What pride has taken you on down the 'primrose path' instead?

You believe you know it all.
Don't holler as you fall.
Only One can see your feeble fate and make the real call.

So we feel not at all,
That love that stands so tall.
We've axed God down with our own pride - glad to see Him fall.

Our boasting sure can part.
Our hearts so far apart,
And the truth from every niche - from the center of our heart.

T is not a big 'ol fish,
that grows from eager wish,
T is just the little one that hardly filled the dish.

Like drops in the bucket,
We really are all wet.
The ocean is the real truth. We're nothing as of yet.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
ganderpoems.org

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September 20, 2007

The Answer 9-20-07

The dictionary's filled with words,

Not one defines the singing birds.

Is God too wise to answer?

As wind blows past my stressed out face.

No peace unwinds my rapid pace.

Is God too slow to answer?

And when I act - in such disgrace,

No honest act will close the case.

Is God too hurt to answer?

My broken heart - I can't replace.

No love explains His precious grace.

Is God too great to answer?

My pain's great. Like a shattered vase,

No glue can mend without a trace.

Is God too sad to answer?

As tears run down my wrinkled face.

Words dissolve - without a trace.

Is God too far to answer?

Should I invoke, what I want done -

Though God Himself has not begun?

Is God too late to answer?

Is God too big? Am I unseen?

Or do I shake up God's routine?

Is God too dazed to answer?

Does He care for everyone?

The very old and very young?

Does God relay the answer?

Protecting sparrows all year long,

God answers prayers our whole lifelong.

Might pride not hear the answer?

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Job 35:11-13 (NASB)

11 Who teaches us more than the beasts of the earth

And makes us wiser than the birds of the heavens?'

12 "There they cry out, but He does not answer

Because of the pride of evil men.

13 "Surely God will not listen to an empty cry,

Nor will the Almighty regard it.

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September 15, 2007

The True Foundation 9-15-07

.
A wee, little babe was born in her arms,
I owned all her love and her precious charms.
She leaned down often to kiss my soft cheek.
That life I began was built week after week.

Spoiled in love but not having a clue,
What I didn't get, I could always add to.
I read to learn and I learned to choose,
And built my life over all my views.

With knowledge, each moment, stone upon stone,
I built and I built - and I did it alone.
Mortared between them, opinions were thick,
But I built it on upward and did it quite quick.

Over the land, I knew from up there,
Above all opinions, I never could err.
Vain hope in knowledge that I had possessed,
Living inside me - that life I professed.

For any old question, the answer I'd add,
But knowledge had trampled what love I had had.
The knowledge of knowledge put me in the sky,
I thought that I had it - but lived a great lie.

What can I say? I died on that day -
Beneath a great pile of stubble and hay.
Buried in knowledge and burned up alive,
Without the great love, I could not survive.

Those precious stones, that wood, hay and straw,
Will never surpass the great wrath of God's law.
And all will burn up with the silver and gold,
If our complete love for our Father grows cold.

We live only one life - there is only one,
But without foundation, we have not begun.
By fire we're tested - we burn up unless,
Our foundation is Christ - nothing more, nothing less.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
ganderpoems.org

1 Corinthians 3:(NASB) 11For no man can lay a foundation other than the one which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. 12Now if any man builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw, 13 each man's work will become evident; for the day will show it because it is to be revealed with fire, and the fire itself will test the quality of each man's work.

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September 13, 2007

One Week To Live 9-13-07

If I had but only, one week to live,

Would I be discouraged - or ready to give?

Would I selfishly ponder all that I'd missed,

Or earnestly pray for those in my midst?

On the first day:

Would I know that life was not fun and games,

(There's a Heaven and Hell and its wicked flames).

And know I'd be wrong - if I didn't tell you,

All of God's mercy - how He can save you?

On the second day:

Would I ask forgiveness from those I had hurt,

In sinful, cold actions which cannot revert,

And knowing there's nothing that I can do now,

But asking forgiveness that they might allow?

On the third day:

Would I be forgiving to all who wronged me,

From each Godly soul to my last enemy,

Searching the endless curved rainbow of views,

And putting myself in their very own shoes?

On the fourth day:

Would I be so thankful for each day God gives,

And faithfully proving that Jesus still lives,

Who forgave me fully with grace so immense,

Each day I first loved Him and from this day hence?

On the fifth day:

Would I be so loving (so long overdue),

To all God's creation - especially you,

Praying that some day you might understand,

His vast awe and power He holds in His hand?

On the sixth day:

Would I, on my knees, now so humble myself,

Discarding all needs and my wants on the shelf,

To whisper a prayer and ask God to begin,

A still, small voice in your heart deep within?

On that final day:

On that very last day, would I still be in prayer,

Until sunset comes - with twilight not there?

Now don't get too nervous - you know that it's true -

that God will call swiftly - take you away too.

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September 5, 2007

Out Of The Rut 9-5-07

.
His yoke is easy. His burden is light.
until we come in and say we are right.
Just like the Pharisee’s that had the right answer,
deceiving them selves like death from a cancer.

There are songs about Jesus. Many more of His love,
but to us are meaningless - if not looking above.
There are songs about God. Many more of His grace.
Again, all are meaningless - if we can't see His face.

We dig our rut in knowledge and follow it for years.
The answers few - but dig we do - as questions bring more tears.
We plow down deep for meaning and sing our merry song,
confused - and not amusing - for us who are so wrong.

But we continue digging, with blinders on our head,
plodding forward fervently - with selfish want unfed.
We dig and dig from college on. We earn a new degree,
but can't believe, nor have that faith, without humility.

Opinions and beliefs are ours - the former to the latter.
We believe what ‘ere we want. All else just doesn't matter.
After all, we know it all. We've learned it all in college....
but nothing replaces a childlike faith. That God will acknowledge.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
ganderpoems.org

Matthew 11:25 [ Rest for the Weary ] At that time Jesus said,
"I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children."

Matthew 18: 2) He called a little child and had him stand among them.
3) And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children,
you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
4) Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
5) And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me."

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September 1, 2007

The Great Reward 9-1-07

In Jesus' day (some time ago),
there were no toys or balls to throw.
There were no bikes or baby chairs,
erector sets or teddy bears.

No strollers rolled down dirt streets.
No snacks to munch on for their treats.
No marbles, checkers, kaleidoscope -
yet every child learned to cope.

They didn't have those spinning tops,
nor ice cream cones or lolly pops,
no toy soldiers, dolly names,
movie shows, computer games.

They never missed their favorite show.
They never saw a night light glow.
They didn't feel the least depraved
when pizza wasn't micro waved.

They didn't ski, go out for sports,
have special shoes, designer shorts.
Suspenders held their trousers up.
They said, "yes sir" and never "yup".

Words weren't written on their shirts,
or on their shorts right where it hurts,
but in their heart's most inner core,
so non-existent anymore.

They didn't own a motorboat -
but had their cow, their hen, their goat.
Our pets today eat so much better -
skins not used for coat or sweater.

They didn't know they acted "cool".
No dirt bikes then ran out of fuel.
Before they learned what dirt could yield,
they pulled by hand the rocks from field.

They didn't have to mow the lawn
or pull the weeds 'til they were gone -
though at times they might be fickle,
cutting hay with father's sickle.

No birthday cakes with frosting glitter.
Those veggies really weren't so bitter.
Now don't forget the outdoor "john".
All summer long, no AC on.

And faucets just did not exist.
They carried buckets in their fist.
Kids learned to work just like an ox -
and often without shoes or socks.

They worked to learn and did their best
and had no cushy couch for rest.
No Frisbee’s, yoyo's, or a sled -
but so content to go to bed.

On cold nights, they got a chill.
No doctors came when they got ill.
So now you know what kids had then -
yet thanked the Lord and said "Amen".

They learned their Bible inside out
and really didn't go without.
Rewards were great - not like today,
when kids had much more time to pray.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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August 31, 2007

Clumps Of Clay 8-31-07

If in Creation we were found,

up with the wind, dust from the ground;

If not our name - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

If in His image we are formed,

ate from a tree, we were forewarned;

If not our heart - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

If in His hands we take our shape,

and from His hands, there's no escape;

If not our face - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

If in His hands He holds us up,

and from His image, forms a cup;

If not for grace - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

If in His grace, we sit unused,

and on a shelf, are still accused;

If not for faith - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

If in His armor, we go out,

and prove our faith, beyond all doubt;

If not good works - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

If with our souls, these clumps of clay,

just sit around day after day;

If not through prayer - WHAT could it be -

that makes you, you and makes me, me?

It's from His Son and from His breath,

we now have life instead of death.

"WHAT's" not the answer. Now you see,

“WHO” makes you, you - and makes me, me....

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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August 9, 2007

God’s Answer 8-9-07

.
When clouds dump the skies to soak all mankind,
Do You understand?
When fog fills the valley and fills up the mind,
Do You understand?

When my child denies me and calls me insane,
Do You understand?
When my spouse rejects me and won't hear my name,
Do You understand?

Year after year after year after year....
Do You understand?
I am in turmoil. Please, can't You hear?
Do You understand?

The whole world disdains me. They call me a fake.
Don't You understand?
“Remember who crucified Me. Make no mistake.
I do understand.”

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
ganderpoems.org

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