Plant The Seed 7-28-11

Some smoking cigs,
and drinking beer -
or walking streets
in total fear.

Some loving fights,
or reading smut -
some overweight
in gambling rut.

Some driving drunk
and smoking crack -
small screaming kids,
good morals lack.

A land of grace,
in land of sin?
Please let me know
what world I'm in.

Now up-side-down
this world is not -
so say the folks,
who have a lot.

But God still knows
the evil heart -
each evil soul,
that falls apart.

And die, they will,
so 'drunk in rum'.
I wish it not,
but day will come.

And come it will,
when all time stops -
when wrath begins
and ruling drops.

Death eternal.
Life eternal.
God external,
or internal?

So hate the sin
but love the man.
Let's plant the seed.
You know we can!

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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Touched? 7-26-11

When all goes well, you do not call,

you do not whisper prayers at all.

but when you're sick or feeling bad,

I hear a prayer that makes Me sad.

You pray that I should comfort you,

and tell Me all that I should do -

but then when you are well again,

your prayers are empty, hollow, thin.

So where's your trust when you are well?

I need your faith so I can tell -

you're not a fake or hypocrite,

but sincere friend who can commit.

Commit to church, commit to Me,

commit to friends and family.

Until that day, you're torn apart,

torn in two, straight through your heart.

So pray when things are going grand

so I can tell right where you stand.

Not lukewarm, but hot or cold -

for lukewarm souls, I will not hold.

For I so love this world too -

the worst of men, including you.

I will save you from your sin -

but you must first, invite Me in.

So patiently, at your hearts door,

I stand and knock to offer more.

For from this world, you'll soon depart,

so let me touch your broken heart.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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When Jesus Holds 7-16-11

One day, when Jesus holds me tight,

will I forget the past?

Will I forget my every sin,

from first to very last?

One day, when Jesus holds me tight,

will I cry quite awhile -

then be so red and blurry eyed,

I miss His loving smile?

One day, when Jesus holds me tight,

will I forget the pain?

Will I forget my memories that,

keep driving me insane?

One day, when Jesus holds me tight,

will all my sins replay?

Or will He hold me tighter and

wipe all my tears away?

One day, when Jesus holds me tight,

when I'll be loved the most -

will I remember painful past,

as Jesus holds me close?

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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Blessings 7-11-11

God showers me with blessings -
too many to be named.
And He has given me so much -
so much, I am ashamed.

Though I have lost possessions,
(some former wants and needs) -
I'm steered to where I wish not go,
as my Creator leads -
and made to walk in valleys deep,
so great, the length and breadth -
and made to go to distant lengths,
and sometimes near to death.

He showed me all that I had missed
to understand His scene -
and made me walk on water,
and through His pastures green.
But sight? None can imagine -
the view beyond the skies -
to see what can't be understood
with selfish, simple eyes!

His blessings once confused me,
and camouflaged my pride,
and I just couldn't see His love,
'till I set 'me' aside.
Yes, God has showered blessings,
too many to be named -
and He has given me so much -
so much, I am ashamed.

And yet, His greatest blessing,
so many years before -
was that He gave His only Son.
What blessing is worth more??

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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The Shiny Penny 7-9-11

Reflection caught my lazy eye,

there on the narrow street.

I spied the shiny penny's glint -

right underneath my feet.

Many will not pick one up,

as value is so small -

and they believe it worthless for,

most anything at all.

To pick it up, not worth it -

at least that's what they say.

but oh, my time was not a waste -

was not a waste that day.

Though, there embossed, was Lincoln's face -

the date stamped clearly new -

more engravings marked the back,

proved it a penny too.

But what can a sole penny buy?

Good luck, what can it bring?

What help buys it, the hungry?

What good, the shiny thing?

Its purpose can be measured,

the value, one small cent.

But there had to be more to it.

My patience had been spent.

I found it - just a penny,

so small and very thin.

I thought it, all but worthless,

but then I looked again...

First opening my fingers,

then cleaning off some dust -

I finally found great value with,

the words, "In God We Trust".

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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My Pencil War 7-4-11

It will erase the phrase it writes,

that's written on a page -

at other times it writes more words...

it's difficult to gauge.

There is a war that's going on,

that's not on land or sea.

A thousand times my pencil flips,

the two just can't agree.

The selfish lead, the soft eraser -

the two can't get along.

They both appear so far apart.

Each thinks the other wrong.

Their battles seem to linger on -

Confusion wills to grow.

This poem is of truth and love.

Conclusions, can we know?

Am I just like my pencil,

that I take off the shelf -

fumbling between my fingers,

at war within myself?

Am I just like my pencil,

in incoherent bind?

Does warring begin or finish,

within my mixed-up mind?

Seek I, the left, or to my right -

or back, or simply stop?

My mind runs in full circles as

the pencil fights nonstop.

The truth still lives - the answer, one,

to settle this whole score -

until then I, a traitor am,

inside my pencil war.

The truthful words, I'll never find,

or my complete reward -

unless I search the Holy Word

and listen to my Lord.

I compromise my writing,

and it is always blurred -

if I can't lay my pencil down

and understand God's Word.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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My Erasure 7-4-11

Every day I make mistakes -

they often make me ill -

but my erasure's here atop, my

error driven pencil.

It fixes all my mixed-up thoughts,

and every misspelled word -

and makes more space for other thoughts,

before my words are heard.

My erasure though, lacks power,

to fix my evil side.

It cannot mend my sinful scars -

I know, because I tried.

I frantically attempted -

but then to my dismay,

I watched as my erasure wore

entirely away.

Sin stains our selfish motives,

then guilt comes as a flood,

but erasures cannot help us -

removing sin takes blood.

And Jesus does that best of all.

Erasing takes no skill.

No, we cannot erase our sin -

but Jesus can, and will.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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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

Heaven Help Us! 5-31-11

Whether a grown-up, a child, or a teen -

We want to be noticed, we want to be seen.

We buy a new auto, with soft leather seats -

or buy a new wardrobe that nobody beats.. 

But buying top brands at all the best stores -

is just simply futile if showing our drawers.

 Our pants must be pulled up with shirt tucked down in -

and must walk with stature, as dignified men. 

Ingrained are small habits in ways we have found -

to draw the attention of folks all around.

But I am much better than all of the rest.

There's no need to ask me.  I'm simply the best.

And seldom - oh, seldom - so seldom I see -

a person more humble - more humble than me.

I don't spit tobacco, gossip, or 'cuss' -

so please, Heaven help them - to notice Jesus.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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Each Minute 5-29-11

When things go good,

and all is well -

there is no thought

or fear of hell.

But when things change,

and death is tasted -

regret, we will,

each minute wasted.

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

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The Mighty Floodgates 5-29-11

Speared I am, right through the heart.

My soul awakes,

my pencil shakes,

my paper takes...

the thoughts I've never wrote before.

I don't know why,

my eyes were dry,

I couldn't cry.

My former heart was cold and hard -

I did not know,

the melting snow,

the sunset's glow...

and found, I too, a reservoir -

of many years,

a wall of tears,

as flooding nears.

So sought I tear, where soft and warm -

among the weak,

among the meek,

on Jesus' cheek...

where it dripped down upon the ground -

where there was loss,

and there was dross,

beneath the cross.

So now it's soft, my broken heart -

a world stain,

a greater pain,

is greater gain -

and the mighty floodgates opened -

and now know why,

my eyes aren't dry,

and I can cry.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Welcome Home! 5-28-11

The prodigal son,

took his share and run.

The world revolves around Rome?

Provisions ran out,

as he ran about -

but his father said, "Welcome Home!"

Decorations done,

another war won.

The world revolves around Rome?

With Serviceman's grin,

he entered therein,

then heard them all shout, "Welcome Home!"

Once under clover,

all will be over.

The world revolves around Rome?

In blink of an eye,

I know I will cry,

when Jesus proclaims, "Welcome Home!"

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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Why You? 5-27-11

When liars win, life isn't fair -

not one will ever, ever care -

life's burdens are too much to bear.

Why me Lord?

I stand down by the ocean shore -

the poison seeps down to my core -

there's none who listen anymore -

Why me Lord?

My love grew cold, my anger hot -

my gut twists in each kind of knot -

it pains me so, an awful lot -

Why me Lord?

The ocean waves still seem to race -

they crest, then spill most anyplace -

but waves ignore my grieving face -

Why me Lord?

My problems grew and come to meet -

as water wraps around my feet -

I'm tired, exhausted, very beat -

Why me Lord?

The waves roll in for years and years -

through all my trials, all my fears -

my cheeks have felt so many tears -

Why me Lord?

My heart, for others, has out-poured -

yet something pulls on my heart's cord -

of everyone who I've ignored -

Why You Lord?

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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My Fuel 5-25-11

Whoa! I take a second look!

I turned my head and eyed -

the sleekness of the sporty lines.

Now that's a fancy ride!

Shiny chrome and glossy wheels,

style, impressive too.

So numerous, the gadgets -

great quality clear through.

The leather seats, the clock and cruise,

the 'cockpit' steals my soul,

the gauges, so exquisite -

I lose all self-control.

The engine starts. It comes to life -

and roars to the extreme.

It sucks the gas from finite tank

in non-stop, steady stream.

My focus and attention,

are drawn by things of men -

which lose me in a cloud of fog,

which seek another sin.

In many ways, we 'sin' in style -

by boat or plane or car.

Though man can reach to moon and Mars,

can only get so far...

There's limits to the spending,

there's limits to the days,

there's limits to the envies of,

man's many sinful ways...

Yet grace, the engine of man's soul -

is ready, always willing.

And God wills that we come to Him -

but gas tank still needs filling.

Just one alone, the fuel is,

if focused we will be.

Though greater is the mustard seed -

faith fuels men, like me.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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