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Poems

everyday faith transforming everyday life

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They Say

They say;
No creator, no plan,
Out of chaos all began.
No God - only man.

You say;
I was, I saw,
I existed always before.
I made - all this and more.

They say;
No design, no goals,
No purpose for our souls.
Past and future - black holes.

You say;
I wait, I see,
Each heart is known to me.
I will wait - eternally.

Sue McNaughton

Push Play

Push

Your body to the screaming limits of fatigue.

Mountain, river, game and race,

Will you to succeed.

Push

Your mind to the expansion of the edge you know.

Guru, book, degree and course,

Lead and off you go.

Push

Your life to the insistent beat of lurking stress.

Family, leisure, work and rest,

More of less and less.

Push

Your self-control until you must break up or out.

Money, power, sex and fame,

On a roundabout.

Push

Your play button and hear a sad and empty man.

Tired, angry, bored, alone,

Not part of your plan.

Push

His door and find it opens to the weakest knock.

Prostrate, broken, free to weep,

Safe upon the rock.

Sue McNaughton

Desperation 

We were so desperate.

Hungry like fire and thirsty as pain,

And we crawled on the rubbish heap licking up breadcrumbs

And taking our water as drips from the drain. 

 

You were so desperate.

Holy like fire and passionate as pain,

And you burned in the bush, on the mountain and altar

And wooed with your white-hot love time and again. 

 

We were so desperate.

Feeding our fires and nursing our pain,

And we strung up your prophets like flags on our castle

And feasted inside while they starved in the rain. 

 

You were so desperate.

Consuming fire and swallowing pain,

And you torched death’s abyss and set hell in a fury

And paid with the blood of the son we had slain. 

 

We are so desperate.

Hungry like fire and thirsty as pain,

And we still climb the rubbish heaps shunning your banquet

And pass by the fountain to get to the drain.

 

Sue McNaughton

 
   
 

Worries

I couldn't sleep.

I was worried, raw, on edge.

I got up trying to make sense of things.

"God I'm so screwed up..."

The same old worries spilled into the night.

Then..... fresh words.

"Let petitions shape your worries into prayers."

Petitions?

I grabbed for a pen.

Shaping began.

Liz MacClure

 

Don't fret or worry.

Instead of worrying, pray.

Let petitions and praises shape

Your worries into prayers,

Letting God know your concerns.

Before you know it,

A sense of God's wholeness,

Everything coming together for good,

Will come and settle you down.

It's wonderful what happens

When Christ displaces worry

At the centre of your life

The Message

 

 

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