Grocery Cart, The 3-20-11

I saw a grocery cart today,

and overflowed, it was, I'd say.

It proudly wore the biggest smile -

pushed along in latest style.

Wow!  Every type of food I saw -

from T-bone steaks to carrots, raw.

Until unto the checkout came -

it didn't seem to look the same.

Now this is what it was about -

when all the food was lifted out...

but don't we understand it still -

that God has overflowed our fill?

Unless sincere and broken are,

grace resides at farthest star.

If faith is absent, there's no grace

outside the walls of Heaven's space.

Wear humbleness and faithful be,

with fruitfulness that's as the sea -

and diligence we must maintain,

for if we're lost - life's all in vain.

And though that cart was quite a sight -

received it not, one single bite.

So don't be like that grocery cart -

that's stuffed with grace, but has no heart.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/ 

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Hebrews 5 (NASB)

13 For everyone who partakes only of milk is not accustomed to the word of righteousness,

for he is an infant.
14 But solid food is for the mature

who because of practice have their senses trained to discern good and evil.

True Love 3-16-11

So many things in body / soul

are empty, undefined -

but read this poem carefully,

and answers you may find.

The knowledge of the Love of God,

comes through in loving stages -

so see if you can find a clue -

within this couple's ages...

.......

The couple faced each other close,

while standing toe to toe.

The clear new day was very young.

They had no place to go.

His right hand held her left hand and,

His left hand held her right.

He slid a daisy through her hair.

She was a pretty sight.

The springtime breezes did not quell

the sun's most warmest rays.

As ocean waves kept rolling in,

they held the longest gaze.

Her face was like a sunshine's glow.

Her toes sank in the sand.

Her hair flipped in the open breeze.

Her fingers squeezed his hand.

Some folks had paused and stared a bit

when softly came the kiss -

but never would a moment pass,

a moment quite like this.

And with these two, that special time

would never go away -

for faithful is that one true love.

There is no better way.

So scenic was the sandy beach,

so beautiful, the pair -

yet only God creates true love

that I saw perfect there.

.......

Now just in case you're wondering,

what ages they could be...

Well, she's but two years younger than

his age of eighty-three.

So if assumptions, you had made -

in story told above -

you may have also missed the mark,

of true Agape Love.

Therefore, question all the writings,

discovered here and there,

that often miss the God of Love -

the hearer of each prayer.

And don't have shallow notions or,

wear blinders to 'believe' -

or come to some conclusion that

some well-known 'experts' weave.

Sometimes we think we know it all,

when all the facts we weigh -

but we do not create the God

who loves us every day.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Hope 3-10-11

In despair,

we'll sometimes be.

At these times can we cope?

Yet always free,

if we can see

the One who offers hope.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/ 

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To Heaven's Doors 2-20-11

What is music to the deaf?

What are rainbows to the blind?

What are shoes worn by the lame?

What mere words can so define...

a special Son,

sent to a cross,

in a world,

forever lost?

What are dollars to a horse?

What are needles without thread?

What are tears without our grief?

What are Bibles to the dead?

Our ears must hear.

Our eyes must see.

Beyond the graves

our faith must be.

His loving grace,

forever pours -

draws walking faith,

to Heaven's doors.

Words are pathways,

nothing more.

There's Someone we

must cry out for.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/ 

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Knocks And Locks 1-23-11

How can we expect our God

to open Heaven's locks -

when we ignore His Son who stands

at our heart's door and knocks?

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Revelation 3:19-21 (KJV)

 ¹⁹As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten: be zealous therefore, and repent.

 ²⁰Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.

 ²¹To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his throne.

One And Only 1-23-11

One day soon we'll leave this world -

this world of wicked sin -

so where's the key to Heaven's Gate,

that we may step right in?

It isn't found in idols,

in silver, gold or wood -

It isn't found inside a prayer,

nor through intentions, good.

It isn't found in our career,

nor through some unclaimed perk -

It isn't found by our own hands,

nor through our greatest work.

It isn't found in churches,

or found inside a hymn.

It isn't found in human thoughts

nor through our newest whim.

It's not found in theology,

nor through man's greatest book.

It's found in yet another place -

...if only we would look.

God created just one key,

to fit in locks designed,

to hold the gate to Heaven shut -

and it's the one to find.

Heaven's gate accepts one key -

and it's the only one -

forged by grace and turned with faith

in His begotten Son.

Heaven's gate, forever locked

and firmly shut, will be -

unless within our heart we hold

that one and only key.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Joyful Tears 1-17-11

In quantities, our teardrops fall,

they drip off sorry faces -

resulting from our broken hearts.

We save them in our vases -

for yet another lofty dream -

another selfish rose.

Is anyone the wiser?

Tell me no one knows.

And here, our vases set alone,

still filled with empty dreams.

Oh, everybody has them -

it's just the way, it seems.

It's popularity for some -

for others; riches, gold.

But when it's over, said and done,

their rose is dead and cold.

The tears we shed are endless,

and from our souls drawn.

We water every selfish want -

then later wish them gone.

We hold our very special vase -

we think of only 'me' -

but rather where still waters are -

our tears of joy should be.

Do roses last forever?

There is a day they die -

then scattered are the pieces of

the heart that happened by.

Lost pieces, scattered everywhere -

forever, broken are -

and at the end of shattered dreams,

there's one eternal scar.

When in, our earthly dreams, we live,

regret is always sure -

for when we grow our selfish rose,

it simply won't endure.

I often wonder why we work,

and waste away the years -

accomplishing so little with

such lonely, painful tears.

So walk beside still waters.

Through joyful tears you'll see -

a love that never wavers and,

a grace that's always free.

And if your faith is watered

and grows from day to day -

there's really nothing more to do -

for joyful is the way!

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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The Strongest Man 1-11-11

When we are asked, "Who's stronger?"

we think so 'physical'.

We often think of Sampson -

not strength within the skull.

The strongest Man who ever lived -

had not a fist fight won -

but He had conquered challenges

and never quit 'til done.

He handled every mocking

and hateful, slimy spit.

He handled every whipping

while skin from scourging split.

Stronger was the 'weaker' Man,

who walked a lonely road.

Wearing thorns, they mocked Him and,

collapsed He, under load.

Huge nails set His hands and feet,

while teeth were tightly grit -

but never had He wavered.

He never once had quit.

Screams may echo over hills,

against the stormy skies -

but stronger is the faithful Man -

despite His painful cries.

Many brag and pound their chest -

their muscles, we can see -

but where you hear the loudest cry,

the stronger Man will be.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Footprints Found 12-24-10

From birth, thrown in a frightful scene,
as life unveils its scroll.
We travel to and fro until
a pathway finds our soul.
Our days are dark and dreary.
Our nights are long and cold.
But here on earth we break our trail -
until we all grow old.

...

I broke my lonely pathway.
I traveled all alone -
and it, a unique pathway -
none else had ever known.
I traveled my own pathway.
I'd everything to lose.
But no one knew my pathway and -
no one wore my shoes.

One day I happened on a trail
aside from sin and hate -
but few were drawn onto it -
so narrow and so straight.
And on it I saw footprints,
that wavered, not the least.
I followed them most carefully
though problems never ceased.

That pathway found no safety -
and I had questioned 'why?'.
I heard the growling animals.
Black vultures circled high.
A lion jumped in front of me.
I froze - my faith devoid.
My goal, career and future were
virtually destroyed.

I heard loud screams from others -
more painful shrieks and cries -
and yes, I still was frightened -
not cloaked from sin and lies.
A jungled mess of selfishness,
a shadowed woods misguided -
drove the anger ever close.
My fear had not subsided.

Yet... steady still, those footprints.
They wavered not a bit.
They never once had faltered.
That 'someone' never quit.
I stopped and rested quite awhile,
then carried on again.
Faith had urged me onward so -
to flee from evils sin.

Still wavered not, those footprints,
still spaced the same apart -
this 'Someone' had a purpose,
this 'Someone' had a heart.
They led straight to a clearing.
It was so peaceful there.
I stopped and saw a beauty, to
which nothing could compare.

My mouth fell open, as to speak.
Mere words were at a loss.
I saw those faithful footprints aim -
directly to a cross.
Then clumsily, I stumbled -
I grasped that mighty tree.
My 'little faith' reached for support,
until grace lifted me.

'Born again', I was that day,
when I was made complete.
I hugged that bloody, splintered cross -
'til back upon my feet.
And yes, my eyes were opened.
Spilt blood had left the hint.
For clearly seen in crimson was -
His faithful, final print.

...

God sees us run in circles as,
we leave prints deep in clay.
He sees our every footprint as -
we're lost along the way;
Our path is never narrow,
nor straightway Heaven-bound -
and feet are either on our paths -
or in His footprints found.

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 7:14 (King James Version)
Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way,

which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.

Too Little, Too Late 11-27-10

A homeless mom - some food can't buy,
she looks for work - but I don't cry.
I've my career, white shirt and tie.
I have my job. I cannot cry.

A thirsty boy, with mouth so dry.
The streets are hot - but I don't cry.
Don't questions ask, and don't ask 'why'.
I have my bills. I cannot cry.

Handicapped girl, about to die,
she goes unseen - so I don't cry.
That I don't care - please don't imply.
I'm much too rushed. I cannot cry.

The sermons heard week after week -
but still no tear runs down my cheek.
But I will try, as days go by -
some day I'll care and surely cry.

How many suffered is unclear.
Was selfish I, year after year?
One day [before my God] I'll stand -
when it's too late to understand.

For God shall hear another cry.
He'll see another infant die.
And then He'll hear and see me try -
to bring a tear to my dry eye...

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Luke 11:40-42 (NASB)

40 "You foolish ones, did not He who made the outside make the inside also?
41 "But give that which is within as charity, and then all things are clean for you.
42 "But woe to you Pharisees!

For you pay tithe of mint and rue and every kind of garden herb,

and yet disregard justice and the love of God;

but these are the things you should have done without neglecting the others...."

Diamond's Glitter 11-22-10

Breezes and the sun can make -
diamonds shimmer on the lake.
Jewels seen but can't be touched,
can't be clutched -
and always fake.

Running to and fro and hither -
never call a man a quitter -
finding glimmer on the waves,
like busy slaves -
chasing glitter.

With every single passing cloud -
that floats on by, that laughs out loud -
at mans feeble, vain attempt,
in full contempt -
the rich and proud.

The root of evil, Satan's tools,
reveals imitation jewels -
then proves beyond a shadow's doubt,
a wisdom drought -
from greedy fools.

So please observe creation, vast -
clouds move slowly, time moves fast.
Don't let Earth's jewels make you thirst -
put others first,
and put you last...

as Jesus did upon the tree,
the sacrifice, for you, for me.
Pass by the glimmers on the lake -
those diamonds, fake.
His Spirit, free.

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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God Knows 10-31-10

When churches fall away from God,
when theology is focused cause,
when government turns back on you,
when they create acidic laws,

when business can't get any worse,
when banks and vendors receive bail,
when bills aren't paid and debts go up,
when you, though innocent, will fail,

when even friends have gone astray,
when each mistake is yours to claim,
when heavy skies come crushing down,
when you take every speck of blame,

when children do not talk to you,
when arms are present, not the hug,
when spouse seems very distant too,
when deep in every hole dug,

when rain comes down, in buckets pour,
when clouds are whipped and tempest tossed,
when friendly wagging tail stops,
when even your best dog is lost,

when all seems dead and all seems grave,
when all you've done has been a curse,
when none can help, though say they care,
when all goes sour, bad to worse,

when life proves fragile, hopeless too,
when everything gets out of hand -
remember, God knows every truth,
and will, forever, understand.

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 19:28-30 (NASB)

28 And Jesus said to them, "Truly I say to you, that you who have followed Me, in the regeneration when the Son of Man will sit on His glorious throne, you also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

29 "And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or farms for My name's sake, will receive many times as much, and will inherit eternal life.

30 "But many who are first will be last; and the last, first."

My Grandma's Way 10-10-10

Above all things, above the sky -
like a balloon that's sailing high.
This perspective, Heaven's view -
and here above, God sees all too.

Over rainbows, cottony clouds -
and back a-ways too, I think out loud -
to greener times, to early days -
to simpler life and better ways.

Far down below in memory etched,
at grandma's house, her clothes line stretched.
I saw clothes hung in certain space,
as clothes pins held each one in place.

In standard form, no wind could jilt -
the smallest sock or largest quilt.
Though Grandma's clothes would often dance,
that wicked wind had ne'r a chance.

It all was simple, very fine,
when grandma took clothes off her line.
And though were dried in simple care,
today her words just wouldn't dare.

Some green-enviro talking heads,
(while separating whites and reds),
might brag while more pollutions spew,
while leaning on their dryers, new.

Though grandma's tongue was as a whip -
"just like a bee sting" we would quip -
her honest, tight and sanctioned deeds,
had filled a life, fulfilling needs.

Her winter canned goods kept us fed,
and she had extra, neighbors said.
Her flower bed received great care,
with colored roses everywhere.

She had no debt, (no card for sure),
worked very hard, had character.
She saved her pennies, saved her dimes -
but lost it all (inflated times...)

....

I soon descend. Balloon deflates,
to current times, to current dates -
and see a truth of future dim,
while looking out where life is grim.

A time of envy, want and fist,
a time when freedoms can't exist.
A time and place that makes man sweat -
where deeds go limp and eyes go wet.

All mortgaged off - Miss Liberty,
Mount Rushmore too, as I can see.
And also mortgaged, please discern -
the parks and trees. Too late we'll learn.

Each public asset, private too,
will all be seized when overdue.
Our current assets we have bled -
and future income 'til we're dead.

Simmering slowly, each tax rate -
will come to boil when it's too late.
Our blood will cover how much ground,
for basic freedoms, next time 'round?

Lust and envy, pride and greed -
raw love of money, root and seed.
While we're sold off, piece after piece -
in massive debt, our freedoms cease.

This Nation's great and standing tall,
of people proud, before their fall.
Piece after piece, we each are cursed -
and this is slavery at its worst.

These newer ways got out of line,
and of the times, this is the sign.
While grandma's way was always fair -
but try her way? They wouldn't dare!

Now all alone with assets few -
her farm is gone, the fields too.
Her bank bankrupt. A brand new dawn -
with neighbors and her savings gone.

Though once so blind, I couldn't see.
She had her ways - now her ways, me.
At times a quiet tear she shed,
remembering her loved rose bed.

The shirt they took was really mine,
that once hung there on grandma's line.
Soon lost forever, I do say -
if we can't live my grandma's way.

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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When Burdens Weigh 10-01-10

We reach so high,
and often try -
to touch the Master's hand.
Outstretched we cry,
yet wonder why -
His distant Promised Land...

His people ran
as they began -
to see the waters part.
Fulfilled God's plan,
a humble man -
from deep within his heart.

We raise hands far,
with feet in tar -
we try so, even higher.
Yet still we are,
so plainly par -
in circumstances dire.

Still true today,
let come what may -
and every trial too.
When burdens weigh,
just humbly pray -
so God can come to you.

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Lonely Acorn 9-10-10

Lonely is the acorn
from way atop the oak -
tumbling fast through branches,
down past all other folk.

Lonely, not the squirrel
emerging from its hut -
and storing safe for winter,
that lowly, little nut.

Lonely is the acorn,
buried in the ground -
who once survived in sadness,
where truth was seldom found.

Lonely, not the the hunter
who stands behind his gun,
who aims at his next target,
who shoots it on the run.

Lonely is the tap root
that grows down in so deep,
drawing up the moisture,
so life itself, can keep.

The hunters haunt the hunted
with minds so twisted, twirled -
and satisfied will never be,
in this defining world.

Not useful as a mortal nut,
no longer living free -
so bury it, if that's the wish,
but some day it will be...

...a mighty tree in stature,
where truth still grows it more,
and though it very lonely,
has acorns by the score.

A tree that feeds the hunted
and hunters faithfully -
but tree still very lonely,
if that's how life must be.

Lonely are the fragile,
and lonely are the weak -
so lonely are the trampled,
and lonely too, the meek.

Popular the answers taste,
for queries others feed -
and hunger pangs will linger on,
until all truth is freed.

But springs of living water,
is where God's truth is found -
so count it as a blessing,
when buried in the ground.

Numerous and popular
are lies that pass the tooth -
but lonely still, the acorn,
and lonely too, the truth.

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Deuteronomy 6:14 (NASB)
"You shall not follow other gods,

any of the gods of the peoples who surround you..."

John 4:10 (KJV)
Jesus answered and said unto her,

If thou knewest the gift of God,

and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink;

thou wouldest have asked of him,

and he would have given thee living water.

The Last Whistle 8-23-10

The train is now ready on strong, sturdy tracks.
The engine stands idle, yet nothing it lacks.

So soon will depart this old world by and by -
and faithfully leave in a blink of an eye.

The tracks lay ahead - in parallel rails -
laid firmly on ties fastened tightly with nails.

The nails that hold each limb in its place,
painfully centered, reflected on face.

The roadsides are flowered where souls still mourn -
but not beside rails still bordered by thorn.

The narrow, so straight, is still railing in pain.
Though great are the treasures, so few receive gain.

The first whistle blows with full steam in the plume.
The time dwindles quickly. There's plenty of room.

Again - second whistle - recorded in Word.
The smoke starts to billow, with whistle unheard.

Is heart fully in it? Be sure, Heaven knows -
so who is on board as the last whistle blows?

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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2 Peter 3:9 (KJV)
"The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness;

but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish,

but that all should come to repentance."

The Old Model T 8-6-10

Way back when, in nineteen twelve
a Model T was born.
It rolled past a tumble weed
and field of planted corn.

It traveled several old dirt roads.
It traveled very far.
Its horn played every gospel tune,
on strings, with its guitar.

Then one day it fell in love.
The grille turned up a grin.
It found a younger Cadillac -
her horn, a mandolin.

Each week they'd do their gospel sing,
then park in their garage.
And after 'while, five new cars -
their faithful entourage.

It beat me playing horse shoes.
Its 'ringers' made a 'cling'.
It fixed up several houses
and did most everything.

It's need, at times, an oil change,
that slowed it down a bit -
but motor strong, would always purr,
and never, ever quit.

But time did get the best of it -
I think it so unjust -
that this great antique auto
could tarnish, peel and rust.

Suspensions seemed to weaken,
It creaked some here and there.
It'd sometimes blow a gasket
and need one more repair.

Mechanics kept it going
with reasons of 'because'.
It would, at times, need greasin' -
but active, always was.

Many other newer cars
would have an 'accident'.
Disgarded, they were totalled -
and to a junkyard sent.

But this one kept on singing
through every single week -
despite some old parts missing
and battery still weak.

Then slowing to a snails crawl -
for it was not as quick -
I noticed headlights dim a bit.
To 'LOW' it moved the stick.

Oil pools were sometimes found
from places still unknown -
but not a grinding gear you'd hear,
complainings or a groan.

Upholstery did get moldy,
dried and wrinkled, thin -
but gasoline was in its tank.
Some spark was still within.

Sometimes parked in home museums,
folks would gather 'round -
to hear those old, old stories.
I'd hear horns toot the sound.

Then one day this Model T
'tween fenders, under hood -
sputtered some - its engine coughed
with filter plugged up good.

Yet many years, I know not how
it kept on coming back.
I think its little secret was
that big ol' Cadillac.

Ninety eight long years went by,
with memories by the score -
but finally that old motor quit.
It couldn't run no more.

That Cadillac was by his side
'ere since they 'tied the knot',
She never left him in the cold -
she never had forgot.

My memories fade, but never die.
This car, through visions see,
but all great stories have to end -
as with this Model T.

Gaylord K. Gander
May 1, 1912 - Aug. 6, 2010
(my father)

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Picnic 7-3-10

Under a large and shady oak
and over the clover green,
spread on a soft and checkered sheet
of red and white was seen -
carrots and beans and corn on the cob,
melons, sandwiches, pink lemonade -
wrapped so in nature and beauty around,
I closed tight my eyes, and simply prayed -

"Your sunshine brings warmth
on these countryside hills,
relaxes my muscles
and takes away chills.
I don't have each 'want'
but I have every 'need -
so thank you for every
miraculous seed.
Seeds that are tiny,
so simple and crude -
yet live by a faith
that provides all this food -
food from the bushes,
the fields, the hive -
so thank You for seeds
that keep me alive."

Nature seemed lighter,
more vivid and bright -
when I opened my eyes
and thought,
"God is alright."

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 6:11 (KJV)
"Give us this day our daily bread..."

Classmates 6-20-10

Oh, those times that I recall
so many years ago,
I remember many things
within the sunsets glow...

Oh, the places I recall
so many years ago -
the teachers and the classrooms,
our desks made up each row.

Oh, the voices I recall
so many years ago -
I can hear those words again
each time spring waters flow.

Oh, the faces I recall
so many years ago -
I can see those friends again
within the sunlights glow.

Oh, the friendships I recall
so many years ago.
I remember friendships' bloom
and saw the flowers grow.

Oh, those hopes from yester-year
and through my heartfelt cheer -
In my eye that cries each tear,
from classmates I held dear.

Oh, the classmates I recall -
the time runs quick and sure.
Tears flow freely from my eyes -
as memories still stir.

Oh, those times that I recall
so many years ago,
I remember this and more
within the sunsets glow...

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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How Little Love 6-19-10

Goodnight my Christian brother.
Please say a little prayer.
Another child molested,
while we live unaware.

Goodnight my Christian brother.
Please say a little prayer.
Abused and battered mothers -
but leave - they wouldn't dare.

Goodnight my Christian brother.
Please say a little prayer.
A mother and her daughter -
now homeless, in despair.

Goodnight my Christian brother.
Please say a little prayer.
They've no place with little food
and nothing much to wear.

Goodnight my Christian brother.
Please say a little prayer.
Then a fellow takes them in -
another plight they share.

Goodnight my Christian brother.
Please say a little prayer.
Tell yourself that they're okay -
it's not so bad out there.

Goodnight my Christian brother.
Please say a little prayer.
Go about your business and
convince yourself it's rare.

Goodnight my Christian brother.
Please say a little prayer.
Faithful always, our routine
with comfort in the air.

Goodnight my Christian brother.
Please say a little prayer.
It doesn't really matter.
It's happening elsewhere.

Goodnight my Christian brother.
Please say a little prayer.
We'd rather do the talking
from our most favorite chair.

Goodnight my Christian brother.
Please say a little prayer.
Pray a few more minutes and
convince your God you care.

Goodnight my Christian brother.
Please say a little prayer.
Tell God about your troubles -
then see if He's unfair.

Goodnight my Christian brother.
Please say a little prayer.
'Common folk' to billionaire,
how little love we share.

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 25 (NASB)

42 '...for I was hungry, and you gave Me nothing to eat;
I was thirsty, and you gave Me nothing to drink;
43 I was a stranger, and you did not invite Me in;
naked, and you did not clothe Me;
sick, and in prison, and you did not visit Me.'