GOD CALLS “GO-BETWEENS”

Christmas 1997

Lord, hear our prayer and fill the air with warnings that abound,
We sing with mirth of Christian birth that few of us have really found,
For high school students carry guns and mow their classmates down,
And dope and drink, and sex perversion, all still stay around.

“Media Madams”, matching mates in talk-shows all across our land
Make it difficult for youth to really take a Christian stand.
Holy days are days for work; the same as others of the week,
Or “week-enders” all go berserk; they fun or fortune seem to seek.

Our President, and Congress too, are often called into account;
Their moral measure in review, as lack of trust still seems to mount.
Our churches seem to sit enthralled, as God’s salvation they unfold,
But sitting is our problem; we do not walk as saints of old.

Where Christmas bells ring long and loud, as wise men kneel before The Child.
The “Light” we see comes through a cloud! Worship Christ - and still run wild??
Yes, “Mission” is the call we need; to people starving, homeless, lost;
But Christian flags must be unfurled in THIS GREAT LAND, whate’er the cost.

The church again must come around to telling forth THAT GREAT GOOD NEWS
In such a way that Christ is found, thus making LOVE what all men choose.
Love of God, and love of others, in church, and home, and on the street;
Tightly bonding, as all were brothers, a bond that does not know retreat.

We cannot focus on mistakes, or wrongs, or sins, or faulty choice;
But make the choice the Master makes; He loves until we hear his voice.
Then we know what we must do in times of toil and dark despair,
For as to all, we “ring quite true” they’ll know the Master is right there.

No more costly gift to give; it will cost us all we are,
As we help all people live, by following that Christmas Star.
The actual gift is His to give, and we but props within the scene;
No greater gift can I receive than to be His “go-between”.

JESUS

January 23, 1997

He speaks with the voice of an angel,
His words flow forth from fountains of love;
No brassy tinkling of a cymbal,
But truths imparted from above.

He has the gift of prophecy,
Understanding mystery and knowledge;
Through faith He can remove the mountains
Though He never attended a college.

He gave his goods to the poor,
His body He hung on a cross,
And in faith that is constant and sure,
He counts not the giving a loss.

His love suffers long and is kind,
No envy or boasting are known;
His behavior always so seemly
As He lives in behalf of his own.

His anger is justly evoked
When injustice raises its head,
But that anger is quickly revoked
When truth wins out, injustice dead.

His love bears up in everything,
His belief unending and sure,
And in hope we continue to sing,
As long as His love shall endure.