Poetry

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This is a poem that was not in the book of my Dad's. This was found by mother today in a spot lying in the floor in her bedroom. She had cleaned that spot and walked past it a thousand times since he died. There was never anything there. She saw the paper lying there and picked it up. She read it and brought it to me while I was about to write somthing else. I could not believe my eyes because we have been finding things like this all over the house since he died. Lord help me I don't know if he is trying to guide me or what. Today is my boy's birthday and I am here with him. Tomorrow is mine and it will be my first one without my father. Pray for me. Jesus help me to understand. It's raining right now.






Here is the poem my mother found:






Lord you gave me a mountain (to climb) this time.






It is not necessarily a mountain top experience



even though it might be considered the ultimate,



it is the effort, the intent, and character of the event



the ascent, the climb, the nature of it.






We may not reach the top, but the Lord's hand is



stretched forth, and he meets us at our point of need



or at our finish, or at least at our point of rest.






We will not be judged by our height we've gained



if that which we have gained has been inspired by



His Spirit, and we've given our best.






Height in some sense is hypothetical, or not



of value, especially, if we've gotten to far to see



the out stretched hand of need of a fellow traveller



it is quality we need, height may be out of reach



to a disabled brother.
by www.lancessoulsearching.com

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