“From the east I summon a bird of prey; from a far-off land, a man to fulfill
my purpose. What I have said, that will I bring about; what I have planned
that will I do”
“The Source of the Summoned”
When storms unleash their anger,
And wicked winds make waves roll;
Man’s hand can no longer help,
“Nature” reigns and takes control.
When locusts swarm, and butterflies flit,
Wild beasts nightly stalk their prey,
Each creature, whether large or small,
Is by “instinct” shown the way.
Golden wheat waves in a farmer’s field.
Roses bloom from a pruning hand.
Both are birthed from the earth,
When sun and rain kiss the land.
Nature, instinct, sun and rain,
All subject to a higher power,
For God’s the one who controls them,
Minute by minute, and hour-by-hour.
Unlike the roses, locust, and storms,
Who have no right to a “yes,” or “no,”
We as humans have the choice
To say where we want to go.
The cruel cross gives us choice,
And the empty tomb lies bare-
We can either control our lives,
Or repeat the “sinner’s prayer.”
Give control of your life,
To the one who is “Lord of All.”
For when He has control of us,
We go where we hear His call!
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