Your Love

I am broken, Lord heal my soul
Make me live for, You alone
No other person, place or thing
Can heal me like Your love

I am empty, Lord come fill me up

Can Your Spirit overflow my cup
No other person, place or thing
Can fill me like Your love

Days and nights can get so long
That’s when I hear Your voice so strong
When dark clouds loom and the storms they rage
I know You’re just turning another page

I am restless, come direct my way
Are You listening, When I pray
No other person, place or thing
Can move me like Your love

Lord I’m listening, expectantly
Come and whisper, Your will to me
No other person, place or thing
Can hold me like Your love

Even though I know Your name
I walk with You, no guilt or shame
But when I fall like a fading flower
You lift me up each needing hour

Peace You give me, but not like those
It passes all of what is known
No other person place or thing
Can fill me, move me, heal me hold me
No other person place or thing
Can love me like Your love

Copyright 2011 Christine Emmick, All rights reserved.

Opportunity to Serve

Forgiveness is more precious than gold
To be wrapped in Grace is the finest adornment
The most comforting warmth from the elements of rage

Truth is only received from friends
Their loving hearts spill forth and give gentle drops
To a thirsty soul, dry and parched with the drought of sin

Patience loves through silent action
Giving an endless supply of life received from Him
The giver growing richer with each opportunity to serve

Joy is the gift of the obedient
Witness to His radiant acts, Grateful to be a part
Of the body, the chosen, the bride, the church

Forgiveness

The presence of Faith does not preclude sin
The presence of sin does not preclude Faith
One acknowledges the other
Hands the pardon
And restores the connection

Copyright 2010 Christine Emmick
All Rights Reserved

Response to “Skeleton American”

This poem is in response to a piece called "Skeleton American" written by an author simply known as "Dan."

By Christine Emmick

Guilt of gluttony you fear more than all
Rattle your finger in alarm
While Forgiveness and Grace ask silently
To take you in Their arms

While fruit that would give you life
Sits rotting at your feet
Your pride of self and indignation
Give rise to defeat

Know the Maker of the vine of life
The One who made the frame
Can bring new flesh to cover bones
And wash away the shame


Copyright 2009 Christine Emmick
All rights reserved