pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: God

MY WANDERING HEART

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“Bind my wandering heart to Thee.”
 (From Robert Robertson’s hymn Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing)

MY WANDERING HEART

Lord, I need Thee every instant;
Need to feel my hand in Yours.
When I feel my heart grow distant,
Call me back to heaven’s shores.

Lord, I long for angel voices
Harmonizing all day through,
Triggering my soul’s rejoicing!
Set my heart to praising You!

Lord, that I won’t wander far,
Faint in faith, and unfulfilled,
Lift my eyes to Christ Child’s Star
Where my heart is awed, and stilled.

Lord, I need Thee every hour.
Give ear to my earnest plea:
Hug me in Your staying power.
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

Rise up, my soul!

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Photo by Marie Elena Good

Spirit bestows it –
Worship swells from the Wellspring.
Oh my soul, take part!

Would that this poet
rise up and sing like the king
after God’s own heart!

© Marie Elena Good

A CORD OF THREE STRANDS

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They began, young.

Lovely and in love
Healthy and hopeful
Playful and promising
To have and to hold
From this day

Forward, fast
Furiously fading
As Alzheimer’s attempts
To dilute and damage
Life and love
Strongly seduced.

Still,
Promise prevailed.
“All my love, and love me always”
In illness and health,
Held by God’s hands
And the cord of three strands,
Stands

Against all
Ashes to ashes
Forever co-mingled
In the perpetual presence
Of the One who,
Singly, and synchronously,
Breathed life
And an always love.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

“And if someone overpowers one person, two can resist him. A cord of three strands is not easily broken.”  ~ Ecclesiastes 4:12

Forever my love to Mom and Dad, now eternally at rest, in the presence of the One. 

THERE ARE TIMES (AND WE ARE IN THEM)

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There are times (and we are in them)
when people communicate
without vision,
in every way in which that phrase
may be defined.

There are times (and we are in them)
when truth seems intangible,
and lies lie before us.
With us.
In us.

There are times (and we are in them)
when the enemy of our souls
thinks he has the best of us,
because we give him reason.

There are times (and we are in them)
when the God who created all
sees His creation through eyes
we cannot even glimpse,
much less grasp.

There are times (and we are in them)
when this same God
immeasurably loves His weak children
and holds our downcast, shamed faces
in His hands.

There are times (and we are in them)
when the need for one another
is greater than the sum total
of the sin we daily live.

There are times (and we are in them)
that crave recognition of
our Savior’s costly love for us –
to help us see ourselves and others
for what we are:
children
in need of love.

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

Untitled

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He who directs my steps,
smooths my path.
He moistens my parched lips
with song.

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

America’s Solar Eclipse, 2017

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Photo credit:  Eduardo Munoz/Reuters

These States, United,
looked to the heavens, as one
nation under God

 

#seventeensyllablesfortwentyseventeen

The Monument of Liberty State is photographed while the solar eclipse is seen over Liberty State Island in New York, Aug. 21, 2017.  Photo credit:  Eduardo Munoz/Reuters

Israelite’ish

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Photo by Deanna Marie Metts

Tell me again
how You parted
the waters
that threatened my soul
to sink.

Remind me
the healings
when reeling
from lie’s ink;
death’s brink.

Retell the hell
from which
you snatched my feet.
Unseat untruth
I tell my past.

I ask, let’s talk
of solid rock
that drenched the earth
and quenched
my thirst.

Recall for me
the blood-soaked tree –
the guarantee
you set me free

from me.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

THE GOD I KNOW (a sonnet to my Savior)

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Bleeding Heart Photo by Deanna Marie Metts

I used to think I knew the God I know.
But over time, I’ve come to know Him more.
More intimately close than long ago,
I’ve learned more of this Heart I can’t ignore.

In part, I’ve come to recognize my sin
As more egregious than I had before.
This veil of righteousness is wispy thin,
For I am but a sinner at my core.

The realization of the heart of God,
Whose love spilled blood for even such as I
(A seemingly good woman, deeply flawed),
Just makes me long to praise and glorify

The One who drew me to Him as a child,
In whom I’ve grown remarkably beguiled.

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

Last Sunday

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Photo by Deanna Marie Metts

The sermon was on forgiveness.  My mind was as blank as the 3 x 5 card, on which we were encouraged to write the name of someone we need to forgive.  Surely there is someone in my life in need of my forgiveness.  I can think of no one.  Not one.  I contemplated and prayed in intervals, while listening to the sermon.

“Marie, I don’t need your forgiveness.”

Though inaudible, the sudden voice was clear, adamant, and authoritative … and just as full of love and understanding as anything I could imagine.  At first, I argued.

“Of COURSE there is nothing to forgive! You are my GOD!”

How tender a God
who loves me as I hold Him
accountable.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

AN IMPERFECT POET (Sonnet for a Merciful God)

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My Lord is great, and greatly to be praised.
In Him, I live and breathe, and take delight.
Yet, even though I’m awed and stand amazed,
My hollow words do not reflect His might.

How regal is Your name in all the earth!
Lord, who am I, that You would care for me?
Creator of my heart before my birth,
I long for it to be a light for Thee.

Now, “may the meditation of my mind,
And words upon my lips,” as David urged,
“Be pleasing in Your sight,” and may You find
Offensive ways concealed in me, now purged.

Imperfect poet, bound in mercy’s frame,
I seek to daily lift Your sacred name.