Poem of the Week

9/14/2026

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THE OLD MAN

An old man I use to know,
Suddenly died a few years ago.
He was sinful and selfish and full of pride,
And I had no regret that he died.

I spoke to him from time to time,
But he never was a friend of mine.
We always argued and disagreed,
Two completely different personalities.

We had nothing in common at all,
Yet he was always giving me a call.
I watched as his terrible disease ate away.
I felt his pain and fear.
I watched him grow more bitter,
As the end of his life drew near.

He’d been at death’s door many times before,
But he’d always slip through death’s hand.
Because he was strong and he held on
Much longer than the average man.

I was by his side, the day he died.
For that’s how it had to be.
I held his hand and groaned and cried
As though it had been me.

He fought hard to live that day,
But he died there on the floor.
Two men fell down, but only one got up
Much stronger than before.

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More Than A Name

I heard that name again today,
And my soul was stirred within.
It always affects me the very same way
Tho I hear it again and again.

It wasn’t Lord or Master or King,
Tho I often hear these mentioned.
But it was the precious name of Jesus
That drew my attention.

Five little letters, one little word.
The greatest name that’s ever been heard.

I see it written most everywhere,
On badges, buckles and belts people wear.
It’s written on t-shirts and pins and plaques,
On bumper stickers and billboards, cards and tracts.
It’s on trophies and tattoos, on tombstones and dining halls.
It shines bright in neon lights, and it’s written on buildings and walls.

It’s engraved in gold and silver and brass,
And carved in marble and stone.
It’s on men’s faces, in their prayers and praises,
And in books and poems and songs.

It needs no interpretation and doesn’t have to be explained.
There is no language barrier with Jesus’ name.

It brings conviction and judgement to every race.
It brings forgiveness, salvation and grace.

It’s hope for the hopeless and comfort to the meek.
It’s healing for the sick and strength to the weak.
It’s like a drink of cold water in a dry land.
It’s like a breath of fresh air to a drowning man.

It’s been through the water, the fire and blood.
It’s been through famine and earthquakes and floods.

Atheists have laughed and mocked and joked.
Scientist have studied and picked and poked.

It’s been blasphemed and slandered
and taken in vain.
It’s been criticized and commercialized
and used for gain.

It’s been whispered and shouted
and cursed and blessed,
But down through the ages,
it’s stood the test.

That’s why Satan hates it so,
At the name of Jesus, he has to go.
He doesn’t mind you saying “Lord” at all,
But the name of Jesus drives him up the wall.

It’s more explosive than dynamite or TNT.
It’s more serious than a heart attack,
cancer or TB.

It’s much more than a by-word or slang.
It’s so much more than just a name.

JESUS

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HE’S EVERYTHING TO ME

How could I help but love Him?
I was lost and laden with sin.
He cleaned me up and bound up my wounds
And gently took me in.

He gave me His own name
And even called me son.
Yet, He asks for nothing
Except my love in return.

I’m not the only one He’s saved
And helped in a time of need.
He has many adopted children
Who were just as lost as me.

He even put me in His will
Along with all the others.
We’re one big happy family,
We’re all sisters and brothers.

“Who gave these things?” you ask.
“What is this man’s name?”
Who has such love and mercy,
And power and wealth and fame?”

His wonderful name is Jesus,
The Saviour, Lord and King.
He is the Way, the Truth and the Light;
He’s the Master of everything.

He cast out devils and raised the dead
And healed the lame and the blind,
Walked on the sea, controlled the wind,
And turned the water into wine.

He is the first and the last,
The beginning and the end.
He is the power and resurrection,
And He’s my dearest friend.

Each time I say His name,
Chills run up and down my spine,
To think how the Son of the Living God
Gave His life a ransom for mine!

How could I help but love Him?
This man of Galilee.
He’s my strength and joy and peace –
He’s everything to me!

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THE GREATEST DECISION

As I go down life’s road, There will be many
decisions to make. At times I may choose right.
At times I will make a mistake.

There will be many times, I know,
When I can’t afford to be wrong.
There will be times of great decision,
When I will have to be strong.

And I know there will be times
When I won’t know what to do.
I can only hope and pray
That these times will be few.

It may seem that most of the time
Any decision will do. I may say to one
“it doesn’t matter, I’ll leave the decision to you.”

But I know that some decisions
Will have to be my own,
When no one else can decide for me
And I must decide alone.

For I have already made the greatest decision
That I will ever make. And I know,
when I chose Christ, That I made no mistake.

And I know that as long as I live
Or whatever road I take,
That my decision to live for Christ
Was the greatest that I’ll ever make.

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GOD’S MASTERPIECE

The Angels in Heaven must have fell to their knees As God started work on his great Masterpiece.

His Word like a brush painted each stroke Creating the world as the Master spoke.

“Let there be light,” came His cry, And a canvas lit up across the sky.

He colored the darkness that had no form, He walked on the water and rode on the storm.

“Let the waters divide,” came His command, Separating water from the dry land.

Then He caught up the atom and gave it a whirl, The canvas lit up with a bright new world.

He colored the heavens with blue and gray, And painted white clouds that softly lay.

He formed the planets and hung them in space, Then sprinkled stars all over the place.

He colored two great balls of fire and light, One to rule the day, the other the night.

He called the wind creating the breeze, And covered the land with flowers and trees.

Grassy meadows with brooks and streams, And beautiful snowcapped mountain scenes.

Then the Master, without one flaw, Colored the seasons, one and all.

Brilliant yellows, browns and blue, Red, greens and orange too. Oceans, mountains, deserts with sunsets of gold, Colors as bright as a new rainbow.

Then from the heavenly stage where He stood, He viewed His creation and said it was good.

Then God filled the ocean and seas with fish, From minnows to whales or whatever He wished.

Then came His command “let birds fill the sky,” And millions of birds started to fly.

Trees of the earth were filled with the nests, From the mighty eagle to the robin red breast.

Then God made the animals, two by two, And the earth was filled like a mighty zoo.

Appeared tigers and bears as God gave the call, Zebras and giraffes nearly thirty feet tall.

From the earth that He held in His hand, He gathered some dust in His hand.

He formed and shaped it in His own image, And created a mortal man.

He breathed in the nostrils the breath of life, Into this small lump of clay. And he became a living soul, Perfect in every way.

Then God said, “It is not good For man to live alone”. So from the rib of the man He had made, He took a piece of bone.

He formed this bone into a woman, Gave her the breath of life, And gave this woman to the man, For a helpmeet and a wife.

With one last stroke God signed His name, With thunder, lightning, sunshine and rain.

Tears must have filled the Master’s eyes As He hung His creation out to dry.

For this beautiful world without any sin Would soon be polluted by sinful men.

God knew that scientists and theologians would talk, And that skeptics, scoffers and atheists would mock.

And contribute His work to nature and time, Or say something must have fell from a vine.

Or that Darwin’s theory on evolution was true, That man came from monkeys – “me and you”.

But, praise God, I know, Though they say what they please Only God could have made Such a “Great Masterpiece”.

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I’LL BE LIVING FOR HIM

I don’t know what tomorrow may hold Or where my path will lead. I may be on the mountain top, Or the mountain may be on me.

But there’s one thing I know, Whatever lies ahead, I’ve burned all my bridges, And I’ve made my bed.

Though He slay me, yet will I trust, Come hell or high water, it’s Heaven or bust. Live or die, sink or swim, If God lets me live, I’ll be living for Him.

I’d be a fool to let Him go, Not knowing what the future may hold. He’s my peace, and He’s my hope. Without Him, I’d miss the boat.

I know there’s been many stronger than I Who promised to live for God ‘till they die. But they got tired, as men often do, Or thought that they could make it through.

And somehow forgot they weren’t home yet And got ambushed and fell in a pit. But I thank God that I know better. I’m not a quitter or a sleeper or a sitter.

I’m not tired and I’m not lazy, And I’m not about to get careless or crazy. Whatever the cost, I’m going on. If my loved ones don’t go, then I’ll go alone.

If I have to crawl on my knees all the way Or fall down on the altar and stay. And say I’m sorry to someone I’ve wronged Or eat crow everyday ‘till I get home.

I know the devil’s heard every word I’ve said, And he’s mad, and his face is red. And I’ll be a marked man on his list, And that he’ll fight me harder than he ever did.

And he’ll send me word he’s going to kill me Before the day is through. But he’s sent me word many times before, And there’s nothing he can do.

I’m not bragging when I say, I’m living for Jesus come what may. Though the future’s uncertain and full of surprises, I know He’ll be with me through all of life’s crisis.

Come tomorrow, next week, next month, or next year, I don’t wonder if I can or doubt or fear. Mountain tops high or valleys dim, If God lets me live, I’ll be living for Him.

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GOD MUST TOUCH THE PEN

I sat with a pen in hand for hours And racked my body and mind, Seeking for that “just right phrase” That I couldn’t seem to find.

I’ve tossed and turned at night In darkness without a sound, Unable to sleep, until God would speak And I would get up and write it down.

Many times I’ve given up, “I’ll quit,” I would say within, But the words would flow like a river, When God would touch the pen.

When I would try to rush God, And use my own words and thoughts, There was no Spirit in what I wrote, And it all would come to naught.

For words written without the Spirit Are like houses built on the sand, Time and storms will wash them away, They won’t have the strength to stand.

I have found that words of life And songs like “Amazing Grace” Can only come when men are moved As they pray and seek God’s face.

It won’t be just pretty words For man’s recognition and fame, But it will be to lift up Christ And glorify His name.

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BROTHER RONALD

“Brother Ronald” drove past my window last night About half-past ten. Then sometime after midnight, I heard him come back in. For twenty-some years, both day and night, I’ve watched him come and go, Pushing and shoving and giving and loving, And working to win some lost soul.

I’ve never known him to drive any car For more than a year or so, Before the doors wouldn’t shut or the wheels fell off, Or the transmission wouldn’t go. I wonder how many cars he’s junked for the Lord, And how many miles he’s turned. How many batteries and tires he’s bought, And how much gas he’s burned?

How many times late at night Has he got a call on the phone, And went out sick into the night To the hospital or nursing home? How many times has he got up and went, When he wasn’t able to go, When the one he went to help and encourage Wouldn’t pull him out of a mud hole?

How many times has he been taken for granted And expected to do it all, And shake hands and kiss babies and teach and preach, To sing and give the altar call? How many times has he announced Bible Study When people just sat and stared? How many times has he showed up for visitation And he was the only one there?

How many times has he studied and prayed And preached a hard message to the Church, Then went home and tossed and turned all night Because he thought someone’s feelings were hurt?

How many times has he bought some gas Or paid someone’s rent that was due? How many times has he paid someone’s power bill Or took them up an offering or two?

How many benefit singings and benefit suppers When doctor bills were too high for someone to pay? How many young people has he influenced and encouraged That are saved and in Church today?

How many weddings has he done? How many Baptisms in a river that was cold? How many funerals has he held For a loved one or a friend we use to know?

How many Revivals has he been in? How many songs has he sung? How many altar calls has he given? How many souls has he won?

I just wonder if people realize Or if they know or even care, That a pastor like “Brother Ronald” Is very, very rare.