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Group XVII
by Joyce Poet
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Welcome, Change
A Bruised Reed
Your Peace
Precious, Little Lamb
Majesty, I Give You Me
Early, Lord, This Morning
A Piece of Heaven
For Those Cloudy Days
How Much Louder?
‘When You Pray...’

Welcome, Change

Ecclesiastes Chapter 3:1&5 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,

Everything changes,
whether we choose to change
with the times or not.
Everything, that is,
except the Word
and sin.

holds no prejudices.
It rains on the just
and the unjust.
But knowing
the Resurrected One
is a secure help
for rising up from the ashes.

It is not enough
that I soar here,
above and beyond
I must go against the wind
to cleanse the ashes
from between the crevices
of my widespread wings.

The blood of Jesus
will never lose
its power.
I know that
in some way
that goes beyond
commonly understood
beyond religion,
beyond human understanding.

I know that
because I leave a trail
of gray clouds
behind me
and breathe in the clean,
crisp, fresh air
of blue sky,
of Life, of Truth,
of Love, of Light
that precedes me.

All I can possibly pray
for others,
that I do.
As for myself,
I ask to recognize
and the wisdom
to take hold,
to soar with its winds
without fear,
or the courage to do so
despite it.

No doubt, I'll get through.
I know I will.
It's beyond faith.
I know.
I know because
I rose up,
first breath to breath,
then minute to minute,
hour to hour,
and finally,
day to day,
to now...
I rose up to soar
from a bed of ashes.

The slow
and steady rise
and fall
of the locust's song
lulls me now
into a lazy day.
It poses no threat to me.

The shade
of the lush mimosa
across the street
beckons me:
"Come hide
and rest with me,
knowing the seasons
Everything changes."

I welcome you,
I even embrace you.
© Joyce Pool

A Bruised Reed

Isaiah 42:3 A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out. In faithfulness he will bring forth justice;
Matthew 12:20 A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he leads justice to victory.

The blood of Jesus washes through the valley,
a warm, mountain stream to soften the ice-hardened ground...
(A bruised reed stands on the brink of death; He’ll not break it.)
...and brings life, the fullness of joy, and brown suddenly changes
to green.

Deliverance rides on the tides of the River of Love --
a soothing milk for the reed.
Grace wouldn’t be grace if we didn’t need it.
Why should He care for a solitary,
seemingly useless reed?

He does. And it isn’t my place to question Him.
So here I stand, with the Water of Life --
the Word washing over me,
softening the wind-calloused stem
that I’ve given up understanding.

Who can know the heart of a man?
I don’t even know me.
Fortunately, He does.
Bruises sure take a long time to heal.
I’m so thankful for His gentle hand.

Lean not on thine own understanding, but in all thy ways acknowledge HIM and HE shall direct thy paths!

He left me here, (though He never left me at all)
knowing I’d struggle,
just like I did in times past,
to climb uselessly and in vain
to get out.

He let me climb and climb and climb,
only to slip and fall over and over again.
Until finally,
I’d given in.
"Here I am," I said.

"I don’t even have the strength left
to climb into Your arms."
So I lay there --
that bruised reed --
until He rescued me...

with a Word...
until He picked me up
and whispered in my ear,
"Now, My Beloved,
you’ve drawn near to Me.

Be still.
Be still.
Be still, My Beloved,
while the River of Love
melts your heart."

When you are weak, then are you strong.

High upon the mountain,
lower than the lowest hills,
deep in the deepest of valleys,
in the wilderness,
in the desert,

in season, out of season,
in a pit, on solid ground,
He is God --
the same yesterday, today, and forever,
always with me, always "I Am."

"I will never leave you, nor forsake you."
© Joyce Pool

Your Peace

When darkness closes in
And the moon fails to rise.
When you find yourself alone
Under cloud covered skies,

I Am here, Love,
Holding you near, Love.
You've nothing to fear, Love.
I Am your Peace.
Your Peace is here.

I Am that Holy Fire
That guides you through the night.
Let Me be your eyes and ears.
Trust not in your own sight.

Be still and know, Love,
I Am your Peace.
Your Peace is here.
I Am your Peace.
Your Peace is here.
© Joyce Pool

Precious, Little Lamb

Matthew 18:3 And He said: “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

Especially for little children, ages 0 to 99+ years:

There was a precious, little lamb.
He looked an awful lot like you.
But he had a curly tail
and sleepy eyes of blue.

He climbed upon his Shepherd's lap
and lay his head upon His chest.
He whispered to his Shepherd,
"I love You. You're the BEST!"

There was a precious, little lamb.
He looked an awful lot like you.
Resting in his Shepherd's arms,
he dreamt that you did too.

There was a precious, little Lamb.
You look an awful lot like Him.
He grew to be the Shepherd
of little lambs and men.
© Joyce Pool

Majesty, I Give You Me

Majestic One of Israel, persecuted by common men,
Marred beyond recognition to rise in majesty again:
I lay me down before You, now. I give You all my guilt and shame.
I give to You my weaknesses; They do no honor to Your name.

My King, it is no sacrifice; I’ve carried them too many years.
Forgive me of my selfishness and the burden of bitter tears.
I lay all of me before You, in all my ways, just as I am,
And receive the tender mercies from the innocent, spotless Lamb.

Here is a humble heart for You; Though broken, You’ve called it Your own.
Let it be Your tabernacle, a place of peace to call Your home.
I give You my ears and my eyes and all the things they’ve heard and seen.
Use them to accomplish Your will. I give You my everything.

Here is my soul, bruised by this world. But the bruises do not compare
To those You endured for my sake that I, though sinful, might be spared.
I confess all my thoughts to You, those unholy and unkind.
I give to You, to be transformed, my torn, confused and troubled mind.

I give You my feet to walk with, to carry Your blessed good news.
I give You my hands to heal with, to anoint, to comfort, to soothe.
I give You my arms to hold with, shoulders to rest a weary head.
I give You my heart to love with. My voice is Yours to raise the dead.

I give to You that which You bought. Oh, my King, what a price You paid.
I give to You what first was Yours, wonderfully, fearfully made.
Let me not pick me up again, for You lived to see me free.
But wrap me in chains of mercy and live majestically in me.
© Joyce Pool

Early, Lord, This Morning

Early, Lord, this morning,
before the sun dawns a new day,
while all the world's still sleeping,
let my heartsong rise to say

"Thank You.
Thank You for Your mercy.
Thank You for Your grace."
On bended knee, I thank You.
How I long to see Your face.

Early, Lord, this morning,
with all my heart, my soul, my mind,
I lift my hands to thank You.
You're so holy, yet so kind.

Thank You.
Thank You for Your mercy.
Thank You for Your grace.
On bended knee, I thank You.
How I long to see Your face.

Early, Lord, this morning,
it's such a meager offering,
I offer You my heartsong,
my Saviour, my Love, my King.

And I thank You.
Oh, how I thank You.
Thank You, Jesus.
Thank You, Jesus.
How I praise Your blessed name.

Thank You.
Thank You for Your mercy.
Thank You for Your grace.
On bended knee, I thank You.
How I long, Lord. I long to see Your face.
© Joyce Pool

A Piece of Heaven

As I trudged through the muddy Jordan,
wiping sweat from a tightened brow,
I looked up to see a rainbow. It said
“You won’t always be where you are now.”

It was peace,
and a piece of heaven,
right here on earth for me.
It was peace,
and a piece of heaven.
“You’re right where you’re supposed to be.”

Those Joseph dreams seem so far from reach,
walking through troubled waters, deep.
But those dreams don’t lie. Yes and amen.
They are God’s promises while we sleep.

It was peace,
and a piece of heaven,
right here on earth for me.
It was peace,
and a piece of heaven.
“You’re right where you’re supposed to be.”

I’m gonna keep on reaching for heaven,
though my dreams are bigger than me.
I’m gonna keep on reaching for heaven.
His face is all I want to see.
I’m gonna keep on reaching for heaven,
no matter where these waters take me.
I’m gonna keep on reaching for heaven.
I’m right where I’m supposed to be.

And that’s peace.
It’s a piece of heaven,
right here on earth for me.
And that’s peace.
It’s a piece of heaven,
right here, where He planted my feet.
That’s peace.
I’m right where I’m supposed to be.
© Joyce Pool

For Those Cloudy Days

Though storms and strife
rage through the night,
joy comes with the sunrise.
I’m no stranger to the wind,
and I’ve seen a lot of pits
with these old eyes;
Older than their years,
they’ve witnessed a lot of pain,
but I can tell that joy awaits you;
I've seen the rainbow after the rain.

Every day cannot be cloudy.
And, as He’s done for thousands of years,
He’ll make the sun rise on the morrow
and wipe away all your tears.
Sooner or later,
if you just hold out,
you’ll find yourself having cloudless days,
to be flooded by the presence
of the Master’s joy and grace.

These old knees have spent more time
bent than stretched upright.
But if it means forgetting
the gift of freedom I have,
I’d rather stay knelt before Him for life.
See, time spent in humble gratitude,
despite those stormy skies,
will find you with full revelation
that the Master never lies.

Sooner or later,
the storms subside
and the clouds all dissipate.
Let His love,
(no greater love)
cradle you until that day.
Know in your heart of hearts
the King is still in control,
and no matter how it looks outside,
clouds will come and clouds will go.

Just hold out for the morning.
You know what they say;
The darkest hour
is just before the dawn
and you can accomplish anything
if you’ll only pray.
Keep on praying and giving Him glory
through stormy days and clear.
And when you wake with the sunrise,
you’ll find Him forever near.
© Joyce Pool

How Much Louder?

If you close your ears and listen with your heart,
you just might hear me singing,
‘Eve Shouldn’t be Left Alone in the Garden.’
Lay your palm upon my chest. You will find a perfect harmony,
wordless and without rhyme, but with impeccable rhythm
and perfectly in tune, my heart panting for you.

The sound of silence is deafening.
He’s not silent though. And I know He hears me crying
for love lost and Love found and a love I may never know.
He knows I’ve a hunger that won’t let me rest
as well as a hunger that guarantees fulfillment.
I’ve tried choosing between the two.
Found out it wasn’t necessary or even possible.

A deer pants for the waters.
My soul longs for the Lord.
A deer also searches for green pasture
and shade on a too-sunny day.
One doesn’t have a whole lot to do with the other.
But I have definitely come to a point
where I most want Him alone to be my heart’s desire.

I don’t want to hunger anymore
for a feast that will never satisfy my soul.
So I take my fingers out of my self-absorbed ears
and listen to the songs of One who does sing
and promises that my own songs are His harmonies,
‘The Blind DO Receive Sight,’
‘The Lame DO Walk,’

‘Those Who Have Leprosy ARE Cured,’
‘The Deaf DO Hear,’
‘The Dead ARE Raised,’
and ‘The Good News IS Being Preached to the Poor.’
He hears.
I know He hears.
And His plans, His song, His heart,

they are all so much greater than my own.
“Bless me! Bless me! Bless me!” I keep crying.
“Give me the desires of my heart!”
I want the answers that I want.
Isn’t that the way of man?
But what I hear is ‘The Good News IS Being Preached...’

“...with or without you”
and I weep.
I weep for a feast on the Bread of Life,
for a drink from blood spilled for me,
for the song deepest in my heart to rise from the dead,
brought to life again by the breath of God,
a song that exists

with or without you.
Sooner or later,
I’m going to get this leaning thing,
this casting my cares thing,
down pat. And when I do,
I’m going to reel in a promise or two
that weigh much more than you.

Nobody wants my head on a silver platter,
served with spices and oil,
just because I call a sin "a sin."
But I offer my own self, a living sacrifice,
to the King of Kings
and mix the spices and oil in preparation
to go out from here and do His will,

anointing the Body of Christ,
fully expecting Him to roll away stones.
That doesn't mean my dreams have changed,
my love, my love that isn't even mine,
at least not today. Maybe tomorrow
you'll go with me.
Maybe you'll hold my hand along the way.

For now, just be still, while I attempt,
one more time,
to let you swim back out to sea,
as though you were ever in my boat in the first place.
“Jesus! Jesus! Is that You?
Tell me to walk out there to You!”
“I know You are the One who was to come!”

Doesn’t matter the storm.
Doesn’t matter the prison.
All that matters is that The I Am IS!
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me,
even if it means letting go of a song based on a dream
that I’m not even sure who inspired.
Swim away. Swim away. Or stay.

But whatever you do, let these chains be loosed
and let me find my anchor
in Christ alone.
I want to be a living example of Psalm 34:
“The righteous cry out,
and the Lord hears them;
He delivers them from all their troubles.

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
A righteous man may have many troubles,
but the LORD delivers him from them all;”
How much louder shall I cry, Lord?
Please be near to me.
Show me how to lean fully on You.

Help me to find my place
in the scheme of things.
Help me stay in tune with You,
a harmony for Your melody.
Oh, Jesus. I love You so much.
It still hurts. I still want.
Help me seek You so I’ll want for no good thing.
© Joyce Pool

‘When You Pray...’

Matthew 6:9-13
"After this manner therefore pray ye:

Our Father who art in heaven"
(O’ Lord of Glory, My Strength, My Song,
Early this morning I tremble in the presence of Your mercy.)

"Hallowed be Thy name"
(You are holy, magnificent, blessed Truth.
You are My Father, My Hope, My Desire.
You are Love, unconditional and peaceful.
You are Life, full and abounding.
Your beauty is incomparable.
Your power is untouchable.)

"Thy kingdom come"
(Draw near, O’ Lord.
How I long to see You, to hear You, to be with You.
How I need Your guidance.
All things will pass away, but Your kingdom will stand forever.
Hallelujah, yes, and amen.)

"Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven"
(Your grace is sufficient for me.
Though You send me through the fire, You are there with me.
Your will is perfect.
I need discernment, O’ God, to know when a Word will change things.
And I need discernment to know when to just be still.
May I sing of Your holiness with the angels about Your throne?
May I touch Your heart with song?)

"Give us this day our daily bread"
(Bread of Life, fill me up.
I hunger for Your Word.
My Portion, I am a sinner.
Cleanse me; yes, form and fashion me to be worthy of the Body of Christ.
Jehovah Jireh, I am blessed beyond measure.
How I thank You for the fullness of joy I find in You alone.)

"And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us"
(Out of Your great supply of mercies, forgive me.
Teach me gently, My Teacher, to love Your Church.
Deliver me of shame that I may move forward in You, My Counselor.
Let me walk in Your righteousness, wearing Your mercy as my robe.
Let my patience mirror Yours so that I may also be merciful.
Be the mantle about my shoulders, O’ Spirit of Grace.
Let me be firmly girded in Truth, sharing with others what You’ve given to me.)

"And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil"
(Even this war between my flesh and my spirit has not escaped You.
Father, You know my heart.
You know what I can endure and what I cannot.
Help me, My God, to stand firm, knowing that if I resist, I shall escape the snares of the fowler.
Help me, My God, to avoid the traps of my own flesh that I might escape them as well.)

"For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen"
(All glory and honor and power to You, Most High, Almighty, full of mercy and grace.
Be exalted.
Be magnified.
Let Your Name be blessed throughout heaven and earth.
In the wondrous and holy name of Jesus, Author and Finisher of my faith, amen.
And amen.)
© Joyce Pool

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Member Comments
Member Date
Donald Newton 20 Jan 2006
Joyce, You have a real talent. God Bless you! I loved your poem Changes, as it reflects what I have gone through over the past three years. I also appreciate your input on Friends. I gave it a once over and got it to a consistant 3444, 4444 scheme. Thanks for the help. Let me know what you think of the updates.


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