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Bipolar Bears
by Nancy Bucca 
01/17/12
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Rock here, rock there, bipolar bear,
A-snacking in your easy chair.
Down goes the ice floe, it's not slow.
Where did the little fuzzy go?

Sway here, sway there, a-wish, a-wash,
You're more confused than old Sasquatch,
Snow monster of a thousand rolls
and myriad opinion polls.

Go north, go south? You do not know
Whom to believe to save your soul.
The lukewarm church can't help you out,
It's tormented by too much doubt.

A-wandering like Cain art thou,
Uncertain as the fragile prow
Of many an Ahaziah ship,
Wrecked prior its sailing trip.

No gold of Ophir in the hold
Of this sad man to evil sold.
Jehoshaphat rues his alliance
With this king of self reliance.

Oh where, Elijah, is your zeal,
The mighty power to save and heal
Displayed in days of desperate famine?
Why do the folk rely on Mammon

As a source of Gilead balm,
To bring their raging seas a calm?
Oh church, where are your miracles?
Why seek ye Baal to cure your ills?

Why trust ye man for all the things
That ye might find beneath His wings?
Or have ye given up the ghost?
Whom, church, do ye love the most?

Oh, Lord, we are so guilty all
Of giving up the heavenly call
To persevere and seek your face.
It truly is a fall from grace.

Half-hearted prayers we dare to speak
With weak-kneed living we call meek.
We seek the ease of yesteryear
As if we had so much to fear.

Please do forgive us for the crime
Of failing to redeem the time,
Of scattering to locate stubble,
Spurred by Pharaoh's whip of trouble.

Please meet with us this very hour
And demonstrate your mighty power.
Bring revelation to each mind,
And cure the sight of we, the blind.

Wake up the numb that we might feel.
Revive, transform, renew and heal.
For you're the only medicine
On which we dare our hopes to pin.


If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

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