God Provides

This one throws it way back, to when I was about 12 years old. I discovered it while rummaging through my childhood, which remains packed away in two blue plastic totes in my parents' attic. The note on the poem says I wrote it for my pastor's wife, Miss Debbie, when her dad was going through a health scare. While I definitely still believe the message of the poem, I like to think my style has grown a bit from the didactic, sing-songy tone of this piece.


Sometimes in this old, weary land
We just can't seem to understand
Things that happen day by day,
Things that just don't go our way.

When someone we love gets very ill,
It is very hard to trust God still.
But we must remember, when pain abides,
An important fact; our God still provides.

He provides strength in every test
And gives us perfect peace and rest.
He helps us in our hardest place;
Shows us his mercy and his grace.

And so, whatever you go through,
Remember, Christian, he's with you.
He'll guide you through that stormy way,
Bring you to live with him some day.

And I know that until then
He will always help you when
You humbly call upon his name,
Since he forever is the same.

From the Splendor of God's Heaven

Higher Ground Baptist Bible Camp played an incalculable role in my spiritual growth as a teenager and college student. My two years as a camper and my eight years on staff shaped my theology and my attitudes in huge ways. Higher Ground's teen leadership camp, known as "The Stretcher Program," emphasizes servant leadership based on Christ's example as communicated by Paul in Philippians chapter two: "Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus..." After participating as a Stretcher one year, I wanted to express in writing the core concepts I had learned. This poem was the result.

From the splendor of God's heaven,
From the rainbow circled throne:
From unceasing praise of angels,
Admiration purely shown.

From sweet meaningful communion
With a Father deeply loved,
From perfection, unmarred beauty,
Jesus came to ransom us.


To deep poverty continual,
To a shameful, lowly birth
To a dirty stable manger,
Endless painful toils of earth:

To the mocking scorn of sinners,
Pilate's unjust judgment hall:
To that cross on Calv'ry's hillside,
Most accursed death of all.


Let this mind be in me, Father,
Which was also in my Lord:
Not vain pride in my position,
Selfish thought for man's reward.

But a mind of humble giving,
Caring not for earthly fame:
Living selflessly, your servant
For the glory of your Name.


And his Name is high exalted
Far above all other names
All will bow, each tongue confess him:
Christ the Lord forever reigns.

Psalm 8

This one's from seven years ago today: a long, rambling, reflections-on-a-Psalm-rewritten-as-a-poem inspired by a sermon on the title passage, Psalm 8. It was intended as a song, with three eight-line verses and an eight-line chorus. I'm bad at titles, so even after all this time, this poem doesn't really have one. Suggestions are always welcome. And hopefully, my writing style has become more concise with time.

Psalm 8

He spoke the worlds into existence,
Hung the stars up with his hand;
Painted heaven with his fingers,
Shaped the galaxies with his command.

He formed the earth and moved upon it,
Made all living things we see -
Sheep and cattle, birds and fishes,
Feeb'lest grass and tallest mighty tree.

Though I was made to know my Maker,
Sin forbade my drawing near.
God of power soon would judge me:
Guilt and shame o'erwhelmed my heart with fear.

And yet, this mighty God, Creator
Chose to take a servant's dress:
Came to earth; in love and mercy,
Clothed me in his perfect righteousness.

His Word upholds what he created;
Countless mighty stars still flame,
Seasons come and go, enabled
By sustaining power of his Name.

How can I fail to trust my Father?
He who owns eternity
Gives me ought but what love chooses.
Mercy's hands of strength are holding me.

Oh Lord our Lord, your Name is mighty -
Excellent in all the earth.
What is man that you would love me,
Visit me, and bring to me new birth?

All glory, honor, highest praises
Ever more we give to you
God, Creator, Lord Almighty
Faithful, righteous, merciful and true.

Arrogance?

When God made humans, he made them as a reflection of himself. He wove worth into every aspect of their personhood. Thus, each individual possesses a unique ability to glorify the Creator by evidencing his image in his or her life.

This is what sets humans apart from animals. It is the foundation for human law and culture. It is the argument against cruelty and for politeness, for mutual respect, for helping others. It's why we create things that go beyond merely supporting survival: things that are enjoyable for their own sake: things like delicious food, pretty clothes, expressive music. It is why racism is not ok, why euthanasia is not ok, why abortion is not ok. 

And it is why disparaging oneself is not ok.

For some reason, many Christians believe that speaking negatively of themselves is a virtue. I was raised to believe that. I remember as a child mocking a song which included the lyrics “I’m somebody: I’m created in the image of God, and I’m somebody… I am loved, and I’m his child, I’m important to him.” To my warped sensibilities, this song was the height of arrogance. Who am I to say that I am important?

But God says that I am important. God says I am made in his image, and valuable - so valuable, he sent his Son to redeem me from my feelings of worthlessness. For me to deny this, and to insist on degrading myself by continually referring to myself as a “horrific wretch” - for me to joke that if God really knew what I was going to be like, he would never have saved me - for me to say "oh, I am actually not very good at that" when someone asks me about a real ability that I have been given - for me to do these things is for me to mock my Creator. It is to disagree with his very words, and to focus on myself instead of on what he declares is true.

Three and a half years ago, with these thoughts in mind, I wrote this poem. 

Arrogance?

Arrogance?

To recognize inherent beauty

implanted in a soul

crafted in the image of the Sovereign?

To nod acknowledgement: 

I am

capable

gifted

enabled for a purpose

of glory to my Maker?

Arrogance?

To exude confidence:

I am

treasure

worthwhile

unique

modeled specifically

by a flawless intentional

Hand?

Do I believe

in what 

His Word declares

I am?

Sin-riddled, 

yes, but ransomed. 

Image of God distorted

yet being restored

continually.

If so, 

as such

I dare not bury

Truth 

beneath a guise of lowliness.

To deny is to despise

reality:

He loves me

for the value

He has woven through my soul. 

Acknowledgment of inner beauty - 

Arrogance? 

Or true humility. 

(c) 2011 Janice Brown. All Rights Reserved.