Your Word
Your Word
Your work is a lamp to my feet
And a light to my path
It draws me
Embraces me with a warmth that
sets my heart aglow. Ever since I heard it.
A treasure in my darkness….
It’s the spark that fuels my day
And set my cold feet on the long path to gain a copy of my own.
A set of words – the Bible-
and I heard, I listened even hungered after it.
Fills my often-empty belly with nourishment.
I have found I can’t live without it.
My mind dreams of your word,
Passages surface from the deep within and brings me joy —
Others need to hear, to know the truth to share —
As your word rumbles from the bowels deep within me,
A vision is born
and I find myself walking for miles across rough terrain,
Challenged, yet a fire burns within,
that others can also have copy of your word – to feed on,
when nothing satisfies ……
How many miles will you travel a similar path to complete the vision??
© Shefali
Weaving Threads
We weave our threads of life into the tapestry of life
We don’t see it as we weave
But he sees it in all its glory punctuated with jewels
Those experiences of a thin place, of sacred space, of silence
But also of pain, suffering hardships.
And bring us a depth to our faith a purpose of drawing near.
Of a lesson learned at his knee, a sharing of a Christ’s love
A love that is extended to us, that a love that is extended to us
that weaves the jewels of sapphires, emeralds and diamonds into our living tapestry.
Weave with joy,
Weave with hope,
Weave the healing we need into our life’s tapestry.
All glorifying to his name.
© Jenny English
Mary Jones and Her Bible
I remember well young Mary. How she longed to own God’s word.
As a child I read her book And my heart within was stirred.
I walked that journey with her And shared her trust in God,
I felt the loneliness within, Call out from the self-same sod.
A lonely little Welsh girl Whose father had passed on,
Spent many hours all alone, Wondering – “What went wrong?”
I could not understand the pain, The hopeless cry for hope.
Why was I so alone, so sad? I needed a way to cope.
And I knew that Mary’s faith in God Had kept her all along.
Had paved the way, fulfilled her dreams. Her life had become a song.
I read her book in Nanna’s home and silently cried out,
“Can you do the same for me?” “My child,” He said. “Don’t doubt.”
So I began to trust Him, Put my life into His hands.
Twists and turns awaited me Unveiling life’s greater plans.
But Mary and her simple walk of trust that led the way,
Remained a beacon in my life, and still inspires today.
So Thank you Kingdom Arts, For this hero from the past,
Reviving childhood memories of finding faith which lasts.
© Ruth Campsell