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a little thanks

A LITTLE THANKS
Greeting God in the morning,
I lift my eyes
look skyward
and give a little thanks. . .
For a clean, fresh new morning
for life and mobility
for a chance to start anew
and serve my God —
I give a little thanks
For every meal, without fail
I bow my head
close my eyes
and give a little thanks . . .
For a place to eat in peace
for pure water in my cup
for food to fill and nourish
as He provides —
I give a little thanks
Then, as the moments unfold
With open eyes
I’m aware
He bids me give Him thanks . . .
For people I encounter
for every pain or pleasure
for His abiding presence
each passing hour —
I give a little thanks
And when the day is closing
I bow once more
gratefully
and give a little thanks . . .
For another day with God
for His gift of forgiveness
for joys waiting in heaven
My Lord, receive
My heartfelt prayer of thanks

Poem by Connie Faust
Photo by Diane Domigan

rosebud

Like a rosebud I tenderly formed you;
Each petal I touched with My grace.
In colors of infinite beauty,
Your spirit reflecting My face.

A rosebud is sought for a season,
While beauty and fragrance remain,
But unfading beauty adorns you,
Who trust and abide in My Name.

Come, walk with Me closely, My child,
Your heart with My heart intertwine;
Come, bask in the fragrance of Jesus,
Till all the world knows you are Mine.

“. . . . the fragrance of the knowledge of Him”
(2 Corinthians 2:14 NIV)
Poem by Connie Faust
Photo by Marge McCoy

silent symphony

Fireflies…..Lightning Bugs…..Call them what you will. On that night, they were majestic lights shining in the night…

Miniature stars in fields and trees,

Pushing and crowding

And “Notice me, please!”

With bursts of excitement

They dance in the air,

Fireflies in rhythm

Perform with a flair.

Phalanx of light beams

Mimic the stars,

Clamor for notice,

Some nearby, some far.

Join in the concert ~

Come, shine your delight!

It’s a symphony in silence

This warm, summer’s night.

***********************

“Again, therefore, Jesus spoke to them,

saying: I am the light of the world:

he that followeth me,

walketh not in darkness,

but shall have the light of life.

(Douay-Rheims Bible)

The Poetry Corner
Poem by Connie Faust
Photo by Jean Pike

a quiet place

Lead me to the quietness of Your great heart;
Through the path of brokenness, let me have a part
Of knowing You more quietly, more deeply and alone;
And when my soul has found that place,
Then lead me to Your throne.

Still my ceaseless wandering and teach me to abide.
In the shelter of Your love, all fear is cast aside.
Stress and doubt, uncertainty, all fall along the way;
My heart is tuned to sovereign voice;
Lord, speak to me today.

Be still and know that I Am God,
The Bread of Life, the Door,
The Prince of Peace, the Mighty God,
Your Counselor, and more.
Holy, Righteous, Just am I, demanding price for sin;
Then offering My beloved Son, that you may enter in.
If you believe His blood is all that your poor soul could plead,
Just rest serenely in My care; I’m all you’ll ever need.

Poem By Connie Faust
Photo by John Brasley

childlike faith

A little child doesn’t let the scientists decide.
Their foolish theories matter not;
He knows the truth inside!

He sees the wonders of the earth —
The grass . . . the sea . . . the sky.
It all makes sense as he believes
That God’s the reason why.

It’s only as we grow in age
And leave the days of youth
That we will strain and wrestle
And deny authentic truth.

The teachings of the learned
Tell us nothing comes from nought,
And somehow, wrapped in lofty speech,
Lies are the gospel we’re taught.

Still, God keeps on pursuing
And speaks in various ways;
He shouts in storms and thunderings ~
And whispers in a million ways.

The sights that thrilled us as mere babes
Are still before our eyes;
He has not left us clueless,
Though He’s often in disguise.

So open up your heart to God
And seek Him while you may;
Believe as a little child ~
Jesus is the one, true Way!

Poem by Connie Faust
Photo by Jean Pike

When thou saidst,
“Seek my face!”
my heart said unto thee:
“Thy face, LORD, will I seek”

the children’s hour

Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day’s occupations,
That is known as the Children’s Hour.

I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.

A whisper, and then a silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.

A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!

They climb up into my turret
O’er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere.

They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!

Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all!

I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away!

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Photo by Jean Pike