Christianity is the only religion where a living Person in the form of the Holy Spirit can be granted to live in the heart and mind of someone who believes.
It is a living Faith from the hands of a merciful and Living God.
Unique, isn't it?
A free gift? You'd better believe it!
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Friday, March 14, 2014
Is Jesus walking ahead of you?
Don’t be tempted to ask Him to wait
Is His face like a flint and He doesn’t look round?
Don’t be tempted to ask Him to wait
He goes to Jerusalem to die on the Cross
Don’t be tempted to ask Him to wait
Follow the Saviour wherever He goes
He will not just die for you
The whole world is writhing in agonised woes
You know what He has to do.
So follow the Saviour wherever He goes
And afterwards hold up the Cross
This is the sign that draws men to Him
For His life is what His love cost.
W.B March ‘14
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Monday, March 10, 2014
How can we be sad when God’s ocean
Surges waves of love upon the shore
Reminding us His love will flow forever
And He remembers our sin no more?
His memory is selective and that’s a comfort
Yet we can do the same in the wrong way
We overlook our sin and make excuses
But can recall if we’ve been wronged every day.
Lord, give us hearts like Yours with devotion
To feel for lost and hurting souls everywhere
May we never turn away and not be caring
And leave them bruised and beaten, in despair.
We are ministers of reconciliation
Ambassadors of Jesus Christ our Lord
There is joy to be gained by loving others
And like the waves it will come back to our shore.
Hope for the day I see with the dawn and the glow from unseen sun
Even with cloud the sun will be there before the day is run
Of this I am sure, and so with my Lord, I know He is always there
Beside and within, cleansing from sin, lifting the burdens I bear.
He tells me to lay all my burdens down right at the foot of the cross
Then I pick them up and I struggle on when I should be enjoying their loss
So thank you dear Father for all that You’ve done sending Your Son down to die
My love so expedient and lacking obedience, I’m abandoned to You, God on high.
Friday, March 7, 2014
Lord, I have a problem, so I am here again
I’ve puzzled and I’ve pondered and it’s rattling my brain
It’s about the poems we’ve written that really came from You
I post them to my blog site for it seemed the thing to do.
I know Your message would bless the person who will heed
Do I throw more money at it in the hope someone will read?
Do I file what we have written and hide it in the ground
And be condemned for talents hidden underground?
Dear Lord, You know my future and I am in that plan
And You have chosen me although You know just what I am
So please just open doors that I should walk on through
And shut tight all the others so I know just what to do.
W.B. March ‘14
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
My brain feels as if it was a ball of yarn and the cat has had it for a very long time.
My writing is all dried up. Not that I don’t want to write but I feel as if I have said everything God wanted me to.
There is nothing on the tip of my tongue and perhaps that is just as well for my tongue has got me into trouble for all my life. Yep! All 85years of it! Of that I am convinced.
My brain is a sieve but that sieve should be at the back of my throat just in front of my tongue, to sift the words that tumble out. IS such a thing possible?
I have a long list of things I would like to have fixed and my tongue is still at the head of the queue.
One of my sisters always said I should join a Cistercian Convent. She told me they took a vow of silence for ever. I am not sure I believe her even now but I appreciated her sentiments (I think).
One of my fears is that God is keeping me down on earth until I am perfect enough to go to Heaven. I believe I would have to live to be well over a hundred and that thought holds no interest for me at all.
I haven’t altogether enjoyed old age up to now. My objections are not uncommon.
Firstly I still miss my husband who died four years ago.
Secondly the bits of my crumbling body that do work, hurt, and those that don’t work, don’t hurt.
Thirdly my vocal cords are paralysed and I can’t sing and just croak so people avoid my company and I can no longer bear to listen to myself singing in the shower.
My neighbours don’t complain though.
I am not sure if they can’t hear me for the noise of their screaming children, or the children are screaming because they did hear me and their parents are busy shutting doors and windows!!
One thing I know, I am a hopeless romantic and hope I will live long enough to meet my soul mate. I have never done so yet and I only hope he doesn’t have memory loss or dementia by the time that day comes. I am a realist and not an optimist so I have my doubts that such a thing would ever happen.
Tomorrow is another day. While there is life there is hope. I don’t have much of either at the moment.
Wyn Barratt. March5th ‘14
Monday, March 3, 2014
Father You gave Your love, Your life, yet I need more than that
I need Your power and wisdom for I mess up this and that.
I seem to stick in one hard place and never move along
I shut my mouth for just a while then say something else that’s wrong.
My remorse is always genuine and I would give my life
If I could only change a bit and keep right out of strife
For many years You’ve worked with me yet it seems I never change
I sometimes sense improvement but ‘holy’ is out of range.
I’m such a disappointment and that’s not just to me
I wonder at Your patience and no end to me I see.
I know I’ve asked You once before as soon as I’m forgiven
That You would pick me off the floor and rush me right to Heaven.
To leave me here until I change would take a thousand years
And every time I fail You, You know it ends in tears
It’s not that I don’t love a lot, but not wisely and too well
Impulsive and impatient; now that is my death knell.
And so I come to You again, and for the umpteenth time
To tell You that I’m sorry Lord that I stepped out of line
You give me yet another day; my slate seems to be clean
But now I face the consequence of where my mouth has been.
W.B. March 2014
Do You have just one bottle Lord to gather all our tears?
Then would You notice if I shed more than it appears?
I always thought that each of us had a bottle all our own
But if it’s small then I have filled more bottles than You’d own
I have my sessions when I’m tough though they are growing less
The cuts and slights go deeper and I want to seek redress
Especially since they seem to come from the ones I specially love
It’s then I cry and beg You Lord to take me Home above.
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Do we only love the lovely and sit beside the clean?
Do we shrink from any contact where the Spirit is not seen?
If I do not agree with you, your lifestyle or your ways
Will I fail to love like Jesus lest you contaminate my praise?
Then I must look upon the cross for Jesus died for you
And I will not presume to say what I think that you should do
All I can do is show you why Jesus died for you
And pray you into the Kingdom, that’s the thing that I should do.
W.B. Mar ‘14