Susan Noyes Anderson » Spiritual Poetry

Life is Golden

admin — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 23:46:21 +0000

Are we condemned to take our lives for granted?

Must loss be felt (or feared) before the joy?

Does gratitude grow stale when goodness gathers,

when all is well with every girl and boy?

Is friendship priceless in a close-knit circle,

or must its worth be found in solitude?

For childish noise and clamor to be treasured,

must one dear voice be taken from the brood?

Can married love be valued in full measure

before one partner yields at last to death?

Must we abide disease, our bodies broken,

in order to appreciate each breath?

It’s true that opposition is the agent

that helps us mark the bitter and the sweet.

The trials must come; will we store them so deeply

that we forfeit the prize of their receipt?

Or will we use them to embrace thanksgiving,

to claim one joy against another pain?

Will sorrow plant delight for tender mercies?

Will rainbow shades endure beyond the rain?

The choice is yours and mine, as are the blessings,

bright gems that we may seek and recognize.

Don’t wait till it’s too late, for life is golden.

The proof is sparkling right before our eyes.

Neglect Not the Gift That Is in Thee…

admin — Thu, 15 Apr 2010 17:06:55 +0000

(1 Timothy 4:14)

The gift is given. Will we make a space

within the cluttered circles of our lives?

As mothers, daughters, sisters, friends and wives,

will we lay hold or run an endless race?

Will we lay hold, or run an endless race…

and, running, lose our vision of the prize?

“Be still,” God said. The cup goes to the wise,

for every gift must have its time and place.

For every gift must have its time and place

or be forgotten…and the Giver, too.

Come, let us dedicate ourselves anew.

Receive and magnify each gift with grace.

Create a fertile ground; make room for growing.

We have the seeds, and they are ripe for sowing.

The gift is given. Will we make a space?

The Man of Galilee

admin — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 17:00:32 +0000

Gethsemane brought Jesus to His knees.

“Remove this cup from me,” He dared to ask.

His humble prayer, “Thy will, not mine, be done,”

allowed no respite from the fearsome task.

Then Judas branded Jesus with a kiss

and set in motion all that was to be.

For silver, he gave up a heart of gold,

betraying Christ, the Man of Galilee.

In lesser ways, His friends forsook Him, too.

“Could ye not watch with me one hour?” He pled.

But sleep earned their devotion more than He

who slumbered, once, within a manger bed.

They loved Him, but they failed to understand,

though He had warned them clearly, in His way.

When Peter struck and smote a Roman’s ear,

Christ healed the grievous wound without delay.

For He would bow Himself beneath us all

and heal the wounds by our own sins laid bare.

The day had come; just One could pay the price

for every soul whose burden He would share.

The great and dreadful reckoning was nigh…

the final act for which He had been born:

when love would overcome the bonds of death

and mercy be returned for hate and scorn.

Meekly, Christ gave Himself into the hands

of greedy men who hungered for His life.

His goodness and His honor mocked them all

and flayed their sanctimony like a knife.

Abusing Him in body, mind and soul,

His people judged Him blasphemer, not King.

They looked to Roman rule to kill their Lord

by means that promised untold suffering…

To crucify, not stone, the very One

whose agony would save them from their own.

What irony that He, to save the world,

would tread the bitter winepress all alone.

When Pontius nor Herod would condemn,

the people chose Barabbas over Him.

Then was He scourged and stripped and crowned with thorns,

His innocence reviled from limb to limb.

No mark of disrespect was deemed too foul,

though He accepted all with kingly grace.

No hand of kindness dried his bleeding brow;

no voice defended Him, nor pled his case.

Instead they jeered and followed His advance

to Calgary, Golgotha also named;

Christ’s hands and feet were nailed upon the cross:

The Lamb of God, bloody but unashamed.

The shame belonged to others––and the guilt.

Naught but a few emerged with hands still clean.

Peter denied Him thrice; disciples fled.

But John was there, to grace the final scene.

And Mary, too, and others of good heart.

“Behold, thy mother!” … Christ was heard anew.

His thoughts, in death, were for another’s care.

“Father, forgive…They know not what they do.”

Oh, God, my God, hast Thou forsaken me?

In Father’s absence, Jesus had to own

the sins of all the world, without relief;

He paid the ransom for our souls, alone.

And when, at last, He uttered, “It is finished.”

Into Thy hands, my spirit I commend.

He willfully surrendered life for love,

so mercy could serve justice, in the end.

His followers had still not understood;

they mourned Him as if everything were lost.

Christ promised He would rise again, and yet…

they saw but darkly, torn by grief and tossed.

The women went to honor Him once more.

An angel came; the stone was rolled away.

At first, they grieved to find His body gone

and looked upon the angel with dismay.

Where was their Lord? Had evil men conspired

to steal the body and defile His flesh?

But when the angel spake, their fears were stilled,

despite the sting of death…the wounds, so fresh.

“He is not here, for He is risen.” Lo,

“He goeth before you into Galilee.”

Departing hence, the women saw Christ’s face

and fell before His feet on bended knee.

In glory, He appeared to His disciples

and bade them touch His hands and feet and side.

Their minds and hearts were pierced, deeply as He was,

for truth had been revealed and sanctified.

His resurrection meant that Death was vanquished.

The door was opened wide; He held the key.

His sacrifice atoned for all God’s children,

from Eve and Adam…through eternity.

Christ’s gift to us is sacred and enduring:

His saving blood, the only peace we find.

In word and deed, forever we’ll revere Him––

The Lamb of God, Redeemer of mankind!

“…I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me,

though he were dead, yet shall he live.” -John 11:25

The Gifts of Creation

admin — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 00:57:32 +0000

How bless’d are we by all of God’s creation!

What miracles attend His outstretched hand!

Adoring is our gaze across the mountains,

Appreciative, our feet upon the land.

In reverence, we observe the sparkling waters,

The creatures that adorn both sky and sea;

In wonder, we embrace the lamb and lion…

And other living things, earthbound as we.

Who does not thrill to hear the sounds of nature:

The babbling brook where bullfrogs sing along…

The aspen leaves, aflutter in the treetops…

The soul-reviving glory of birdsong?

Who cannot hear the whisperings all around us?

Who fails to see the majesty of earth?

What heart must not o’erflow with sweet submission,

Awestricken by the privileges of birth?

When hearts wax cold, I would not be among them.

My own is small, beside His offering…

But ever is it His, in love and honor…

A gift to my Creator, Lord, and King.

In Every Thing, Give Thanks

admin — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 19:15:35 +0000

When wintry winds and stormy seas

Make all the world seem bleak,

When hope is difficult to find

And peace is hard to seek,

Through troubled times and dreary days,

In glorious and simple ways,

My eyes are somehow turned to Thee;

And once more, all is well with me.

For this, my heart will ever raise

A song of love, a song of praise.

A Daughter’s Prayer

admin — Mon, 11 Jan 2010 16:05:47 +0000

Some of Thy children think of Thee

in terms that make no sense to me:

“…as large as life itself, yet small,

with no body or parts at all.”

Others claim Thou art as naught––

a figment of man’s fear and thought,

a panacea for the weak

to conjure up the peace they seek.

But I have felt within my soul

Thy perfect love, and I am whole

because Thou callest me by name

and whisperest of whence I came.

In Christ, and by the Spirit’s power,

Thou livest with me every hour.

This gift, dear Father, helps me see

Thy glory and my destiny:

To fill the measure of my birth,

To walk with honor on the earth,

To find my place eternally,

As Thy child, to become like Thee.

Spinning

admin — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 22:18:25 +0000

(photo not taken from the book)

If ever earth and sky should spin away

and love and truth lie crumbled at your feet,

when all around and in you cries defeat

and hope and faith seem merely words to say–

Say nothing; hear Him whisper to your soul:

My peace lies in acceptance, not control.

And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding,

Shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:7

Thanks Be to God

admin — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 16:47:37 +0000

Photo courtesy of O Charm of Nothingness, So Madly Decked!

Though troubles come and troubles go

amidst this life of joy and tears,

while things we love and things we know

are sometimes lost to grief or fears;

yet always in the heart remains

the memory of sacred strains,

of truth eternal, joy divine,

and gifts bestowed by God’s design.

In hope, we take the leap of birth.

In thanks, we dwell upon the earth.

In death, all things must pass away,

but all will be restored one day;

when mortal pain and sorrow cease,

when every soul is moved to sing,

then all shall bow and all embrace

the grace of Savior, Lord, and King.

Moving Mountains

admin — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 17:14:26 +0000

To move a mountain was my aim,

the highest goal I could achieve.

I knew all things were possible

to every soul who would believe.

The road was long, the passage hard.

Sometimes a mountain blocked my way,

but through my faith and God’s own grace,

each stony peak was swept away.

The world was mine; no pile of rocks,

however high, could hold me back.

Surely the Lord would always grant

the strength and courage I might lack.

And then, one day, the mountain came,

the one that would not move for me.

I pounded it with all my might,

prayed day and night for victory.

To my surprise, the mountain stayed;

each vain attempt to move it failed.

I plied my faith, petitioned God,

and yet, the obstacle prevailed.

How could it be? I pled. I wept.

I broke my skin against the stone

to no avail. The mountain stood,

and I stood at its feet, alone.

Humility engulfed my soul.

Contrite, I fell upon my knees,

for they who wait upon the Lord

rise up with answers to their pleas.

By still, small voice the counsel came

in words both simple and profound:

Must every mount bend to your will?

Climb over, child…or walk around.

“…for I have learned, in whatsoever condition I am, therewith to be content.”

Philippians 4:11

Solitude

admin — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 06:16:51 +0000

(the image depicted here is not taken from His Children)

The water is wide and shimmers clear.

Each tree’s reflection, straight and tall,

stands witness to the majesty

of God, who has created all.

In quiet places He draws near;

let any who would seek release

withdraw into the wilderness

and find in Him a sense of peace.