Mighty One, The 10-20-18

I sit and stare at water there,

beyond the palm where lake is calm

and try to write the words I'm thinking of.

But often times my words lack rhymes

as fingers shake and pencils break

while making sense of Christ's most precious love.

I don't know why I often cry

at such a price of sacrifice.

Though innocent, the Man of God obeyed.

With no remorse, He stayed the course

and took the tip of wicked whip,

then carried cross because He was betrayed.

He didn't quit.  He carried it

without restraint, without complaint,

up rugged path to hill where all would be.

And without fail, He took a nail -

another one.  They still weren't done...

And then was raised for all the world to see.

The pain was such it mattered much

and time was short for His escort -

those angels waiting anxiously to aid.

For all along, ten thousand strong 

were in His care and waiting there.

But it would be His call was never made.

From cross He heard another's word -

another soul that He made whole.

It mattered not, the next cross he was from.

So it would be that grace was free

if we believe and always cleave

to Him who knows our hearts and wants to come.

So much unsaid with Jesus dead.

Though buried deep, they couldn't keep

our Savior from yet one more miracle.

So off His toes, He then arose

despite our sin to live again -

above the clouds.  This wasn't typical.

I pictured sky in my mind's eye
and watched in awe at what I saw
and still envision how it all could be.
As I look back at all the flack
that Jesus took in God's Good Book
I just can't understand His love for me.

My stare is blank at water's bank,

beyond the fog I see a bog

as I forget all that I'm thinking of.

Now as before I tremble more.
In any case, I now erase
my empty words of Christ's most precious love.

My words are wrong.  They don't belong.

My ev'ry word just seems absurd!

They don't do justice for all He has done!

Thoughts disappear.  I shed a tear -

and say a prayer that isn't fair -

from little me - to God, the Mighty One.

©2018 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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If You Can Interpret 10-12-18

If there's love in you still, please read if you will

so that you can understand fully -

the wisdom of God from the Heavens to sod,

from ants to the mammoth so woolly.

Can you understand of the rock and the sand -

a foundation as in white and black?

If so, you will master the words of your pastor

and find that you're on the right track.

So don't be discouraged but be ye encouraged

if you can interpret these words.

Avoid your destruction and heed this instruction,

removing yourself from the herds.

For many will perish because they won't cherish

the grace from the Father above.

and willingly selfish, they cannot embellish

a life that is full of His love.

Deny yourself firstly before you'll be thirsty
for kinship that's second to none.

If you lend Him your ear you will certainly hear

the truth from our God's only Son.

So don't read this poem if you cannot know Him

as you will be wasting your time.

For this poem's of love of our God up above,

if you can interpret its rhyme.

©2018 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Proud To Follow 9-28-18

Some are quite embarrassed when

their pride gets in the way.

They can't defend a hero who

is still brushed off today.

So tell me, what is wrong with Him,

...a Man who healed the blind?

...a Man who healed a withered hand?

...a Man who was so kind?

I'm proud to be a follower

of He who loved so much,

of He who sacrificed for me -

whose hands I'll one day touch.

I'll hold those strong and loving hands

when I am rid of earth -

for He has given me new life

through this, my second birth.

He died so I might live again

and never more in sin.

That's right.  A new creation here.

I have been 'born again'!

So go ahead, if that's your wish -

just joke and laugh and sneer -

but I know where I'm headed now.

I'm getting out of here!

I gave my life to Jesus, all -

escaping sin's great chain.

I'm free as I could ever be.

In Him I will remain.

Though at times this world is harsh,

I sing when life is grim.

I'm thankful that He saved my soul

and proud to follow Him!

©2018 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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That Special Boy 9-22-18

This poem's for that little boy

who I met in the store;

just helping grandma groc'ry shop

as he had done before.

This poem's for that patient boy.

While we began to chat;

attentively he listened too.

I was impressed with that.

This poem's for that quiet boy -

a little hard to gauge;

polite and rev'rent standing there,

mature for his young age.

This poem's for that humble boy

who's good and never sways,

who knows what's right and knows what's wrong,

who faithfully obeys.

This poem's for that precious boy

who grandma deeply loves;

there standing by her wheelchair

who she was speaking of.

This poem's for that pauper boy

whose grandma nodded "yes" -

when offered I, a loving sum.

She smiled and said "God bless".

This poem's for that speechless boy.

I turned to walk away

before the tears flowed from my eyes.

Then I began to pray.

This poem's for that special boy

I'll never see again;

but faithfully still pray for him...

before I say "Amen".

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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It's Irrefutable! 9-16-18

I may be very quiet

and gentler than a lamb -

but I'm a rose unopened

and just a bud, I am.

So therefore, you're loved more than me

'cause I'm not beautiful.
It's so unfair, unfair to me!

It's irrefutable!

---

I may be very quiet

and gentler than a lamb.

But now you see me open.

So beautiful, I am.

It is quite fair, quite fair to me

'cause I am beautiful.

Now I am loved much more than you.
It's irrefutable!

---

I may be very quiet

and gentler than a lamb -

but now I'm old and wilted,

ugly again, I am.

It's so unfair, unfair to me
'cause I'm not beautiful.

Once more you're loved much more than me!

It's irrefutable!

---

I may be very quiet

and gentler than a lamb -

but I'm a rose that's guilty.

Repenting now, I am.

It's so unfair, unfair to God.
It's He who's beautiful!

For I'm the one who blamed my God!
It's irrefutable!

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Oh To Be A Butterfly 8-18-18

Oh to be a butterfly.

Cocoon would pave the way.

Arise, I would, from dark of death

to see the light of day.

Oh to be a butterfly -
to rise above the dead,
to spread my multi-colored wings
of orange, green, blue and red.

Oh to be a butterfly

with brilliant-colored wing,

that I would stretch and open wide -

and I could beauty bring.

Oh to be a butterfly
whose wings bring ne'er a sound.
reflecting brightly in the sun -
the prettiest around.

Oh to be a butterfly,

to float on easy breeze,

and softly drift to other fields

where flowers meet the bees.

Oh to be a butterfly

upon a little hill
and set atop a milkweed plant
where I'd be resting still.

Oh to be a butterfly,

to never worry why -

the oceans depths seem much too deep

or clouds seem much too high.

Oh to be a butterfly,
creation's grand rebirth -
inside of God's great masterpiece
and handiwork on Earth.

Oh to be a butterfly
in flight and fully free -
and then to be in peace again
at rest on Jesus' knee.

Oh to be a butterfly

emerging from cocoon,

unfolding vibrant colors bright

on Sunday afternoon.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Walkin' On Water 8-3-18

Floatin' on water, lightning's flash!

Floatin' on water, raindrops splash.
Floatin' on water, pouring rain!
Walkin' on water?  So insane.

Floatin' on water, leave my boat?
Floatin' on water.  Will it float?
Floatin' on water, don't capsize!
Walkin' on water is unwise!

Floatin' on water here hiding.
Floatin' on water deciding.
Floatin' on water hearing voice.
Walkin' on water is a choice.

Floatin' on water in the storm.

Walkin' on water's not the norm.

Floatin' on water still in fear?

Walkin' on water, volunteer?

Floatin' on water, who succumbs?
Walkin' on water, Jesus comes!
Floatin' on water, Jesus see -
walkin' on water calming sea.

Floatin' on water, no more waves.

Walkin' on water, Jesus saves!

Floatin' on water does enslave!
Walkin' on water's not your grave!

Walkin' on water?  Can't conceive?

Walkin' on water?  Just believe!

Walkin' on water, I am too!

Walkin' on water, how 'bout you?

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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A Beautiful Rose 7-13-18

My love still continues to bloom like the rose -

for roses are lovely as everyone knows.
My heart strings keep humming like strumming guitar.
She's perfect as nature and finer by far -

than rose most exquisite, than rose without thorn,

than crisp, cooling air near a lake in the morn,

than cottony clouds floating high with great ease,

than soft meadow grasses.  She is more than these.

But memories trample as conscience awakes.

It's then I'm reminded of all my mistakes.

Regrets, I have many.  They give me great pain.

They pelt me like hail and they drive me insane.

If only the future could remake the past,
where I could relive it much diff'rent than cast -

in stone where it's buried and cannot breakout,
I'd free it most quickly and change it, no doubt.

For pain's overwhelming when past can't reverse.
From pit in my stomach, it couldn't be worse.
Though Jesus can heal all the greatest of pains -
He won't let it happen if I'm tied down with chains
in guilt-ridden prison where I can't accept
forgiveness from actions when I was inept.
Grace breaks ev'ry chain so that I can't destroy
this beautiful rose of unspeakable joy.

If God could change hist'ry, if God made it so,

I'd treat her much diff'rent and clearly would know

that God's grace is priceless and made for such love

for all still in waiting and not there above.

Because she's not with me, there isn't a cure,

so pain grows beyond all that I can endure.

I'm sorry I hurt you and this I must share -

while Heaven awaits you, you're in ev'ry prayer.

So love still continues to bloom like the rose -

for roses are lovely as everyone knows.
My heart strings keep humming like strumming guitar.
She's perfect as nature and finer by far -

than rose most exquisite, than rose without thorn,

than crisp, cooling air near a lake in the morn,

than cottony clouds floating high with great ease,

than soft meadow grasses.  She is more than these.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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My Cheap & Paltry Skies 7-7-18

While I was thinking I was good,

in church while singing hymn -

my Lord was getting tortured so,

as they were whipping Him.

While boss was just not being fair

and I held righteous wrath -

my precious Lord lugged heavy cross

barefoot on stony path.

While I was wishing for a house

and dreaming how it'd be -

my Lord was tied and nailed tight

to hard and rugged tree.

While I stared at the deep blue sea

then wanted boat instead -

my Lord endured more agony

by thorns forced on His head.

While I had found a car for sale,

a nice and perfect ride -

my Lord cried out in gruesome pain

long hours before He died.

While in anticipated dreams,

a playoff game begins.

My Lord, though, wasn't in the game,

but took away my sins.

While I was taking selfies here

and holding high, my phone -

the people thought they buried Him

behind one heavy stone.

I'm now regretting sinful ways,

collapsing in my cries.

My Lord has paid and rose above

my cheap and paltry skies.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Tell Me Why (2) 7-1-18

What charms my heart to butterflies?

What charms my heart to fly?

What charms my heart to loudly sing?

And can you tell me why?

What lures me to the water's edge?

What lures me to the lie?

What lures me to the ocean's depth?

And can you tell me why?

What makes a son do crazy things?

What makes a mom to die?

What makes a father distant so?

And can you tell me why?

What draws me to the pastures green?

What draws me to the sky?

What draws me to His loving arms?

And can you tell me why?

What drives my soul to worship Him?

What drives my eyes to cry?

What drives my love to do His will?

Please, can you tell me why?

What pulls my thoughts to greater thoughts?

What pulls emotions nigh?

What pulls my soul so Heavenward?

Now can you tell me why?

©2018 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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If I Were Jesus 6-23-18

Here's something we might think about

and something to discuss -

if born, we were, in Zero Year

and grew up as Jesus...

---

If I were Jesus would I heal

the blind so they could see?

Or would I joke when stumbled they

and would I laughing be?

If I were Jesus would I heal

a crippled, withered hand?

Or would I buy some sandals new

and brand new clothes demand?

If I were Jesus would I feed

five thousand; fish and bread?

Or would I scold them, call them fools

and stuff myself instead?

If I were Jesus would I pray

for each and every one?

Or would I brag and boast a lot

of all that I had done?

If I were Jesus would I die

on cross set up for me?

Or would I show them who I was

and walk away painfree?

If I were Jesus would I rise

to Heaven up above?

Or would I store up treasures here

because I money love?

If I were Jesus would I care

for people still today?

Or would I care for only me?

What would I do and say?

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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The Lion & God's Nature 6-9-18

The Lion and God's nature seemed to be at odds one day.

Was it all depressing?  First, the lion had his say...
---

"I hate the freezing morning!

I just shiver by the river!

I am so depressed."

The river's flow was somewhat slow.

Back its whisper, it was chipper,

"I am ever blessed."

The Lion roared, "My stomach needs

a meal with some appeal!

I am so depressed."

One little hare seemed not to care.

Through the meadow was the echo,

"I am ever blessed."

The Lion roared, "The sun is up and it's so hot!

I'm sweating and I'm thirsting!

I am so depressed."

A little chick with outstretched wing was heard to always sing,

"It's so adoring, sunshine's warming.

I am ever blessed."

The Lion roared, "This rocky ledge has windy edge!

Insufferable, I'm uncomfortable!

I am so depressed."

Sung through the leaves with autumn's breeze,

 though not with word, the Willow's heard,

"I am ever blessed..."

Then finally the Lion roared,

"Again I frown.  The sun is down!

Though rain is done, it wasn't fun!

I am so depressed."

But painted twilight sky was bright

in rainbow's hallowed spectrum's glow.

"I am ever blessed."

---

The Lion and God's nature seemed to be at odds that day.

Was it all a blessing?  Lastly, nature had its say.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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At Weakest Point 5-12-18

My precious little children

grew up so very fast.

Oh, why does time keep fighting me

and stealing all my past?

My little girl was precious,

a vibrant little flower.

So why has time come to a stop -

in this, my darkest hour?

My photos and mementos

have faded very fast.

Oh, why does time keep fighting me

and stealing all my past?

My keepsakes, lost forever,

have turned my stomach sour.

So why has time come to a stop -

in this, my darkest hour?

I worked hard for my family.

I built my business fast.

Oh, why does time keep fighting me

and stealing all my past?

My business, lost forever

and gone, my tallest tower.

So why has time come to a stop -

in this, my darkest hour?

All is gone and all is lost.

My life is fading fast.

Oh, why does time keep fighting me

and stealing all my past?

In fetal pose, you watch me now.

I fear, I shake, I cower.

So why has time come to a stop -

in this my darkest hour?

I find myself afloat on tears
that flow so very fast -
ignoring God who could have been
in all my sorry past.

At weakest point, He lifts me now

with His creative power!

And now I know why time has stopped -

in this, God's finest hour.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Jesus Blessed 4-20-18

An ear of corn was bragging so

with kernels bright and gold.

"Just look at me!  Just look at me!"

he shouted loud and bold.

Well, this provoked the big, tall stalks

that stood there proud and tall.

"Without us you'd be rotting in

the field dirt, one and all.

The dirt felt somewhat slighted then

and said the bragging hurt.

You'd both be short and sickly if

not nourished by us dirt.

The water spoke up then to say

"There's something you should know.

Without the moisture from the rain

not one of you could grow."

The sun kept right on shining as

he heard the others boast.

He warmed the ground and ears of corn.

He knew what helped the most.

Humility was lacking, but

the truth the sun could see -

that all must work together long

before the corn could be.

The sun knew that not one of them

was better than the rest.

And each of them in their own way

was really 'Jesus blessed'.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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It's So Unfair 4-8-18

My mom was simply wonderful.

She had a magic touch.

And mother loved my father too.

She loved him very much.

I never heard mom say a word

when dad would spend the funds -

though mom had many stressful days

to feed her hungry sons.

Recalling often all the ways

that she conceived a meal -

concoctions never mixed before,

ingredients unreal.

One bite would be like chewing foam,

the next so leather tough -

while I and brothers sitting there

would have to eat the stuff.

But weight upon the shoulders from

abuse is very great.

I think I have much empathy

but how can I relate?

I heard the whimpering at times.

I sometimes saw the tears.

It's so unfair to have such love

and then to persevere.

So many things are left unsaid.

What more must I explain?

Have I hurt someone like my mom?

Have I caused someone pain?

Who loves me more than mom loved dad?

What else is there to know?

How many tears does Christ still shed

because He loves me so?

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Seasons 3-25-18

DEATH is the winter of sin and shame,

of pride and blame,

of guilty name,

of danger's ice,

of bad advice,

of heavy price.

LIFE is the springtime of seeds that toss,

of logs across,

of Christ on cross,

of blooming earth,

of our rebirth,

of valued worth.

WORK is the summer of fresh, clean rain,

of sweat and pain,

of growth and grain,

of appetites,

of peaceful nights,

of what excites.

LOVE is the autumn of harvesting,

of lauded sing,

of Thanksgiving,

of Heaven's grace,

of special place
and Jesus' face.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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With Life Anew 3-3-18

Like Eden's garden, park was still.
A perfect place right up until -
the selfish played.

The lake was smooth, as smooth as glass -

but then a breeze came rolling past -

as they all played.

A dark cloud seemed to push the breeze

that whispered firmly to the leaves -

while they had played.

Then all the grasses wiggled too

and seemed to toy with breeze that blew -

as they had played.

A couple squirrels in a tree.

First I saw two, then I found three -

and they had played.

A couple toads jumped stone to stone.
Together, they were not alone -
and they had played.

Some floating leaves rose with each wave.

First up, then down, they'd misbehave -

as they had played.

We all endured the passing wind

that we had felt while others sinned -

when they had played.

And when the winds had caught my ear,

the storms of certain wrath were near -

while they had played.

The wrath of God was imminent

but habits fixed, were like cement -

so they still played.

The storm clouds, close, were now a threat -

but not a drop had fallen yet -

so still they played.

Then suddenly, a lightning blast -

brought thunder's roar and down-burst fast! -

so wet they played.

Unfaithful ones, now surely stuck,
were washed away in mudslide's muck.
T'was overdue...

But faithful ones above the sod

had found down-pouring grace from God

...with life anew.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Rev. Billy Graham 2-24-18

One-half a century ago,

a day about routine,

became one quite spectacular

for boy about thirteen...

A faithful black and white TeeVee

had doors that opened wide,

inviting all to sit a'spell

and watch what was inside.

Once on, dad had to turn a knob

for vertical control.

And then the horizontal one

in that tube-filled console.

A strong determined voice was heard

by boy and everyone.

Then picture tube came into view

with all fine-tuning done.

And what he saw astonished him -

so many people there.

Packed full, a football stadium.

He saw no empty chair.

"Evangelist", dad said he was.

He was straightforward, bold -

and not ashamed to preach the Word.

A 'someone' to behold.

A well-read Bible always would

lay open in his hand.

Not like today where gadgets live

and kids don't understand.

But why did people love this man?

What caused his flock to grow?

What special thing did this man have?

At first, he didn't know.

But when the cam'ra zoomed, he saw

a tear run down his face -

while speaking of the love of God

and His amazing grace.

Embarrassed, he was not at all.

He loved those people there.

He cared about their fragile souls

A man like that is rare.

"Just As I Am" was always sung

as invitation song.

A score of people always came

with lines to alter, long.

That little boy had learned a lot

in front of that TeeVee.

He gave his life to Jesus too

and God had set him free!

Before this story poem ends

there's one more thing to know -

I still remember that young boy

so many years ago.

©2018 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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"One day you will hear that Billy Graham has died. Don't believe it.

On that day I will be more alive than I ever will be.". -Billy Graham.

My Faithful Friend 2-18-18

As I awake, the truth meets flesh -

I breathe in life, so cool and fresh.

Crisp air is mine, my faithful friend.

I step on cabin's old wood floors -

and say a prayer before my chores.

This country's mine, my faithful friend.

I light lamp's weak and little torch -

then step out on my weathered porch.

Pre-morning's mine, my faithful friend.

Just standing still, like statuettes -

the trees are shadows, silhouettes.

Those trees are mine, my faithful friends.

Some clouds meander with the breeze -

so high above these lowly trees.

Those clouds are mine, my faithful friends.

The stars are there, while night enshrouds -

but shine light through the lowly clouds.

Those stars are mine, my faithful friends.

Nighttime dies, sun arises.

Colors scream, bright surprises!

That brightness mine, my faithful friend.

The morning rays I so embrace

are warming as they kiss my face.

The sun is mine, my faithful friend.

The Great Creator, I so love -

has wrath as rock, but grace as dove.

My God is mine, my faithful friend.

Creation grew and bore a Son.

There never lived another One.

The Lord is mine, my faithful friend.

Creation trembled, shook the land -

but Christ arose to God's right hand.

Now peace is mine, my faithful friend.

©2018 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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One Little Wave 2-11-18

A non-eventful morn it was

as many were before.

The sun came up exposing life

just off the sandy shore.

The winds blew in across the lake

creating quite a stir -

and waves grew up from nothing yet

there's lessons to infer.

I followed just one little wave

to see what it would do.

It seemed to be behaving well

or did I misconstrue?

Between two other waves it moved

across the little lake.

It'd sometimes try to reach up high

which was its first mistake.

For what it saw were waves ahead

so he became aghast.

Why, they were all in front of him -

while he had followed last!

Each time it swelled to reach up high

it wanted to be seen -

but then it'd drop back down again

and stay there in-between.

Then those two waves on either side

had closed in on the one -

which raised him up just high enough

he glittered in the sun.

"Hey, look at me!" he seemed to say -

with ego growing large.

He liked- no, he demanded that

alone, he'd lead the charge.

So there he rode above the rest -

now highest wave of all.

And there he took in all of life

which made him feel tall.

Behind, he looked - and saw those waves

applauding- east to west.

His popularity increased

as you might well have guessed.

So there he was still looking back

with ev'ry want and whim.

While riding high, he saw those waves -

those waves that followed him.

But life is short, so very short -

and most don't understand -

that hourglass starts running low

with top devoid of sand.

Applause was great and greatness too

while he sought even more -

but suddenly his time ran out

in death on other shore.

©2018 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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