Monday, May 25, 2009

In the Presence of God's Majesty


Lead me to fresh water , Oh Lord !
where I can sit , and gaze into Your face.
Oh let me taste of all that You are
Lord, let Your presence fill me, in this space.

Come close to me,
Holy Spirit, Come
Keep teaching me
how to live.
Replace the things
in my heart and mind
Lord, help me see , only You , in how I live.

Father , take my heart , and empty it out
of all the things that remain hidden in my sleep
The things of " old " that I no longer need
Lord, only Your Truth , is what I want to keep.

So here I am, at Your Holy Place
Lord , show me how to focus only on You
As I come humbled in spirit , and broken , Lord
In me, let Your Spirit come pouring through.

2 comments:

Kathryn Darden said...

Lovely poem and stunning photo!

Kara Ashley said...

I would love to become a contributing writer! Email: karaashley09@gmail.com Poems:
Slow But Steady

Like a fawn with new footsteps
I gallop by with too much confidence
until I trip, falling to my knees,
into gravel and a stream.
Again I try to have pride in my ability
yet stumble each time.

Instead I will channel an elephant,
slow but steady and wise.
Grant me wide ears
and weathered feet, Lord.
If You give me words to speak,
I will announce them with dignity.

I don’t want the diseases, Lord
and You are my healer.
Let me honor You every minute
and hold Your grace in my every move;
simply to garden my love
and the years with You.

Untitled

I am texting my socialite scene,
but I haven’t tonight checked my inbox
for messages from God.

Will I find love notes?
Bible verses? Will my inbox
contain a simple “good night”
(followed by “good morning”, “good night”, “good morning”, “good night”)
or long messages – five minutes to type out.
If He has warned me not to gossip and
to avoid impure thoughts,
His thumbs must be calloused.

I punch His number into the recipient box.
I memorized it.
I type a simple thought about my exhaustion
then curl up on my bed.

I know He collects numbers from China and Israel,
Boston and Mexico City.
His inbox is crammed with their
“HELP”s and “S.O.S.”s and “r u around?”s.
But He checks constantly
for a response from me.

I feel the phone’s vibration shake my sheets
then flip open the screen to read
“i love u sweet dreams”.