Sunday, February 19, 2012

He'll restore the years that the locusts have eaten...




LOCUSTS


I will restore to you the years

which the swarming locust has eaten,

the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter,

my great army, which I sent among you.

                                         Joel 2:25 RSV



He said He would

restore the years

locusts ate,

for surely He saw

the hundred billion swarm,

their shimmering brown wings

eclipsing the sun

as they munched my years,

grew fat and satisfied

on tender green sorrows.


Their feasting

left me gnawed,

bare, bereft.



One sweet morning

I awoke in peace,

sunlight streaming

through the windowpane.

Of course, He kept His promise.


The cloud has long cleared;

flesh has returned to my bones.



Like Job,

I’ve emerged

from devastation

with blessings

even more bounteous

than before.

Numbering them,

I thank Him

through glistening tears.



Remember this

if my old locusts

ever swing around

and fly your way.



Maude Carolan


This poem was written many years ago after I emerged from years of deep sorrow. A friend recently reminded me that she read this poem at her wedding, more than a decade ago. God did it for me, He did it for her, He'll do it for you. He is a God of restoration!


Sunday, February 12, 2012

Oh! That the Whole World Would Know Him...

 

I CAN'T MAKE YOU LOVE HIM




I can't make you love Him if you don't

can't strike a match

to cause your heart to blaze

at the mention of His Name

can't cause you to tremble

as I tremble

before His holiness

can't jumpstart love

from the outside in

It only happens from the inside out



No matter how much I love you



loving Him

is not something you can get from me

like a cup of mulled cider or a hug

not something you can inherit

like good genes, strong teeth or curly hair

not something I can demonstrate

like how to knead dough or rhyme couplets

nor is it something I can gift-wrap

tie with a crimson ribbon

and give you to make you happy



No, all I can do is tell the old, old story

about His beauty, as I perceive it

His mercy, as I've experienced it

His wonders and His love

All I can do is hope, pray

and wait



Truth will not impose

Truth waits to be sought

Answers wait for age-old questions

The Door waits for your knock



When He opens

you'll find He's been expecting you

already loving you



No, I can't make it easy, although it can be

I embarked on my quest; you'll embark on yours

No, I can't make you love Him if you don't

but should your quest lead you to His heart

I'll be waiting, like The One inside The Door

to dance in the glow of His grandeur with you



Maude Carolan

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Praise Jesus...with "Hallelujah Hands"



 

 



HALLELUJAH HANDS


“I want men everywhere to lift up holy hands in prayer,

without anger or disputing.” 1 Timothy 2:8 NIV



Some lift one

others, both

chest-high, chin high

Some reach upward

ceilingward, skyward

stretching Heavenward

reaching for

His hem



Soft young graceful hands

with squared airbrushed fingertips

Pudgy, fidgety, child hands

copying his daddy hands

Brown hands, pale hands

old bulging vein hands

Just plain hands

hands with bands

hands flashing rings

stones sparkling

Calloused hands, splintered hands

rough, red dishpan hands

Cold hands, warm hands

peanut butter and jelly hands

Salon hands

nails lacquered red

rose pink or pearly



Tambourine shaking

banner waving

clap clapping

Bible clutching

baby holding

tear wiping

clenching, wrenching

God beseeching hands



Hands clasping the hand

of another

hands signing praise

for ears that cannot hear

hands folded

serenely in a lap



All beautiful

all holy

all His children’s

hallelujah hands



Maude Carolan