Poems for Comfort and Inspiration
An Attitude of Trust (Judi Young)
Those We Love (Ella Wheeler Wilcox)
Click Download File below to print the poster.
They say the world is round, and yet
I often think it's square;
So many little hurts we get
from corners here and there.
There is one truth in life I've found
while journeying east and west,
The only folk we really wound
are those we love the best.
The choicest garb, the sweetest grace
are oft to strangers shown;
The careless word, the frowning face,
are given to our own.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
we please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
to those we love the best.
They say the world is round, and yet
I often think it's square;
So many little hurts we get
from corners here and there.
There is one truth in life I've found
while journeying east and west,
The only folk we really wound
are those we love the best.
The choicest garb, the sweetest grace
are oft to strangers shown;
The careless word, the frowning face,
are given to our own.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
we please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
to those we love the best.
| those_we_love.jpg |
For God So Loved the World (Judi Young)
There is no need to perish,
The Father has decreed.
Jesus is the payment
For all our sins indeed.
He came not to condemn the world,
The world He came to save,
That we might have eternal life
And live beyond the grave.
So if you care not to believe
There is no fence to sit on.
Eternal death will be your end
With nothing else to count on.
The Father has decreed.
Jesus is the payment
For all our sins indeed.
He came not to condemn the world,
The world He came to save,
That we might have eternal life
And live beyond the grave.
So if you care not to believe
There is no fence to sit on.
Eternal death will be your end
With nothing else to count on.
My Tears (John Ecob)
Click Download File below to read the full poem.
Losing your wife (or husband) is never easy, but the Lord hears prayer, and one day death will be swallowed up in victory.
Full of emotion, this poem will resonate with anyone who has lost a loved one in the Lord.
Losing your wife (or husband) is never easy, but the Lord hears prayer, and one day death will be swallowed up in victory.
Full of emotion, this poem will resonate with anyone who has lost a loved one in the Lord.
| poem_my_tears_by_john_ecob.pdf |
Tested by God (John Ecob)
Click Download File below to read the full poem.
This is a heart-rending poem about loss and grief, gain and joy.
It is beautifully set out over two pages and ends with:
I know that my Redeemer lives;
He took away, but now He gives
Far more than I could ever lose;
To change the plan, I would not choose.
This is a heart-rending poem about loss and grief, gain and joy.
It is beautifully set out over two pages and ends with:
I know that my Redeemer lives;
He took away, but now He gives
Far more than I could ever lose;
To change the plan, I would not choose.
| tested_by_god_composed_by_john_ecob.pdf |
Safe in God's Hands (Elsie Flake)
Each morning when I wake I say,
‘I place my hand in God’s today!’
With faith and trust that by my side
He’ll walk with me, my steps to guide.
He leads me with the tenderest care,
When paths are dark and I despair.
No need for me to understand
If I hold fast to His great hand.
My hand in God's; no surer way
To walk in safety through each day.
By His great bounty I am fed,
Warmed by His love, and comforted.
When at day’s end I seek my rest,
And realize how much I’m blessed,
My thanks pour out to Him, and then
I place my hand in God’s again.
‘I place my hand in God’s today!’
With faith and trust that by my side
He’ll walk with me, my steps to guide.
He leads me with the tenderest care,
When paths are dark and I despair.
No need for me to understand
If I hold fast to His great hand.
My hand in God's; no surer way
To walk in safety through each day.
By His great bounty I am fed,
Warmed by His love, and comforted.
When at day’s end I seek my rest,
And realize how much I’m blessed,
My thanks pour out to Him, and then
I place my hand in God’s again.
Forgiveness Is Best (Judi Young)
When Jesus said, “Forgive them
For they know not what they do,”
He was setting us a pattern
Of all that we should do.
Be kind to one another,
Tender-hearted and forgive,
Not bitter, speaking evil,
Christ died that we might live.
If we are made in His image,
His ways must always show
Within the lives that WE live,
That all who see may know.
So let us not be angry with
Our sister or our brother.
Forgive each one with all your heart,
Have love for one another.
Malice is not good for us,
It does not show Christ’s love.
It spoils our hearts’ true oneness
With our Lord and God above.
For they know not what they do,”
He was setting us a pattern
Of all that we should do.
Be kind to one another,
Tender-hearted and forgive,
Not bitter, speaking evil,
Christ died that we might live.
If we are made in His image,
His ways must always show
Within the lives that WE live,
That all who see may know.
So let us not be angry with
Our sister or our brother.
Forgive each one with all your heart,
Have love for one another.
Malice is not good for us,
It does not show Christ’s love.
It spoils our hearts’ true oneness
With our Lord and God above.
A House or a Home (Adapted from J H Sykes)
The walls of a house may be built of wood,
Its foundations of brick or of stone;
But a genuine home is an exquisite thing,
For it’s built of heart throbs alone.
The price of a house may be reckoned at once,
And paid with a handful of gold;
But the price of a home very few can compute,
And that price they have never yet told.
The rooms of a house may be stately and grand,
Their adornment a triumph of art;
But beauty of home is the final result
Of the toil of an unselfish heart.
A house may be burned, may be sold or exchanged,
Nor the loss of one’s peace interfere;
But the loss of a home - how it crushes the heart!
For our homes we all love and revere.
Of houses a man may possess many scores,
Yet his lack of a home cause despair;
But an honourable couple, in a home filled with love,
Must be counted a true millionaire.
Its foundations of brick or of stone;
But a genuine home is an exquisite thing,
For it’s built of heart throbs alone.
The price of a house may be reckoned at once,
And paid with a handful of gold;
But the price of a home very few can compute,
And that price they have never yet told.
The rooms of a house may be stately and grand,
Their adornment a triumph of art;
But beauty of home is the final result
Of the toil of an unselfish heart.
A house may be burned, may be sold or exchanged,
Nor the loss of one’s peace interfere;
But the loss of a home - how it crushes the heart!
For our homes we all love and revere.
Of houses a man may possess many scores,
Yet his lack of a home cause despair;
But an honourable couple, in a home filled with love,
Must be counted a true millionaire.