Browsing Tag

Poem

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

A Place at the Tree

Posted on October 7, 2024

The brightest day in a garden

The accuser darkened and marred.

The tree of life was forbidden

Secured by the cherubim’s guard.

 

Another dark day in a garden

When God, for me, fell on HIs face.

And sweat fell as blood for my pardon

Could it be, at the tree, yet a place?

 

The dawn of redemption has broken.

A tomb’s stone has rolled from its head …

And sweet angel voices have spoken.

The living lie not with the dead!

 

The tree of life stands in a garden

Near a throne in the midst of the street

No cherubim stands in the east now

But covers my God’s mercy seat.

 

A garden, a tree….but forbidden for me.

Till the trembling earth gave up its prey.

The accuser is done and the Victor has won

And the cherubim taken away.

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

The Crown

Posted on August 5, 2024

Like David. my Lord was a king, a potentate.

With scepter in his right hand and dainties on his plate. 

He should have worn a golden crown—A robe without the jest:

But he was stripped and wounded, while giving me His best. 

 

Like Aaron, he was holy. a turban crown was His. 

He laid that down beside the throne—poured out eternal bliss

To come to earth to rent the veil and enter there for me

But tearing was contingent on the suffering on that tree. 

 

He poured out wealth and majesty. He poured out the right to reign.

He poured out equality with God that I could access gain.

He poured out honor, left His place beside the throne of God

To sit by old Judean wells and dusty paths to trod. 

 

He traded allelujas for mocking cries and shame.

He gave up all authority, inherent in His name.

He left the perfect garden for dark Gethsemane

Came down from Zion’s eternal mount, to bleed on Calvary. 

 

His crown should have been golden, with holiness engraved

But piercing wooden thorns he wore, my sin-stained soul to save. 

With tissue torn, exposed and rent, and cross on bleeding back

He made His way to Golgotha. While armies were in tact…

 

And stood at heaven’s ready, to rescue heaven’s prize.

They nailed him there and shouted blatant mockery and lies. 

Choosing human weakness, succumbing to the death

Bruised by men He formed from dust, he breathed his final breath.

 

And in that time of tearing veil, of darkness in midday

Of dead men walking through the town and shaking earth’s display. 

They took the crown, now bloody, cast it to the ground. 

And wrapped him in a rich man’s cloth and laid his body down. 

 

His body resting in the tomb. The  purchase is complete.

The kingdom price is paid by blood. So wonderfully sweet

Is my redemption. If I had a thousand tongues to sing

And if I had a thousand crowns that I could humbly bring…

 

And alabaster boxes to brims with fragrance filled,

The blessing of anointing Him would not the sweetness yield

To honor nail-pierced hands and feet emerging from the grave.

The King of Kings laid down the crown, my wretched soul to save. 

ccolley

 

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Be Still and Know

Posted on June 24, 2024

Be Still and Know

Some days are just so crazy….You can’t accomplish much.

You ought to call a lonely sister, just to keep in touch. 

There’s someone with dementia who’s living life alone

And there’s a college student, being faithful on her own.

You should encourage that widow who sits just down the pew.

And help the mom who brings five kids. She does look up to you.

There’s Charlie, who’s a visitor and Sam, who’s homeless now.

You’ve planned to stop at the nursing home, but, oh…you don’t know how!

You juggle items on your list. So much is left undone. 

You try to be six places, but you barely cover one.

And every woman reading this, while rushing…running late…

To fill needs and plates and babies’ mouths….Each woman can relate. 

But if she’s made it to the Word and bowed her soul in prayer

She’s done the most important thing. The rest will still be there. 

So when the clock is chasing and the needs outrun resources, 

Remember that He’s ever-present and the best recourse is

To recognize the refuge…From the rush that is your foe.

In every anxious time of stress, to just be still and know. 

c. colley

 

God is our refuge and strength,

a very present help in trouble.

Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed,

and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea;

Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled,

though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. Selah.

There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God,

the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High.

God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved:

God shall help her, and that right early.

The heathen raged, the kingdoms were moved:

he uttered his voice, the earth melted.

The Lord of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah.

Come, behold the works of the Lord,

what desolations he hath made in the earth.

He maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth;

he breaketh the bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder;

he burneth the chariot in the fire.

Be still, and know that I am God:

I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.

The Lord of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah.

(Psalm 46)

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

What DID you mean to do?

Posted on April 2, 2024

“I didn’t mean to do it.”…The words I’ve said so often

When picking up broken pieces. Harsh words I tried to soften. 

But when I’m introspective and with my heart I’m true. 

The question begs an answer, “What DID I mean to do?” 

 

I have to mean to live for him. “On purpose” in every detail;

For if I fail to plan my walk, I really plan to fail.

Purposeful living is life with a map, instead of a wandering trail

It’s a definite destination, and a place to avoid, as well.

 

If I’m to keep away from sin; impulsive times of weakness; 

I have to keep close to the Book—prepare, instead, for meekness. 

If I’m to guard the worst of me, to practice self-control, 

I have to feed the best of me, the manna of the soul.

 

If I’m to stop the talk that harms and spreads a dark despair

I have to start the talk that heals; the talk of fervent prayer.

If I can bear a burden instead of causing grief.

If I can offer words that heal and offer sweet relief…

 

That will not be an accident; a careless happenstance.

Heroic deeds are purposeful, and always start with plans. 

Plans to set aside the time to get into the Word.

Lists of those who need the truth and maybe haven’t heard. 

 

Jotted lists of those in need of comfort, meals or prayers.

And circled on my calendar the dates I plan to share—

A meal, a card, a visit, or a luncheon for the grieving

A Bible study session with a heart not yet believing. 

 

A facebook group where sisters pray; a house with an open door;

A meal on the table for someone who’s tired, a trip to the grocery store…

A text to encourage an elder, who can hardly stand under the strain…

Coffee with a mom who’s single again; the victim of betrayal and pain.

 

What did you mean to do today? Exactly what was the plan? 

Was the day you just spent purposeful? Did you firmly take your stand?

Did you cross off something on a list that’s focused for his glory?

Did you tell someone off or did you, as planned, tell someone the old, old story?

 

Did you wonder today at His greatness or wander in purpose-less “fun”?

Did you bask in pursuits of the world or bask in the warmth of His Son? 

Did you handle aright the word today? Did you marvel at some truth anew? 

Are you planning to fail by failing to plan? Or is God’s purpose living in you? 

 

c. colley

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Just Daddy

Posted on June 19, 2023

He’s always there for the big times…

Recitals, big games, spelling bees;

He’s so busy down at the office,

But still he can make time for these.

But I think it’s the quiet “at home” times

That mean most to the children and me;

Times when the preacher’s just “Daddy”…

The daddy no one else will see.

Dad, who shoots ball, pets kittens and laughs

At jokes he’s heard over again;

Who pops corn for movies, builds toys in his shop,

Plays monopoly, but lets Mama win.

He stands up and cheers for them, kneels down and prays for them,

Listens, laughs, loves and forgives;

While  listening to lessons he tells them of life

They’re learning the way that he lives.

Cindy Colley