Poems of a Personal Nature
Delighting in the Lord
I wrote the following poem years ago, when I was young in the Lord. I would often go for walks and hold my hand out, literally feeling His hand in mine. I still do this sometimes, especially when my heart is breaking or relationships are not always in the sweet passion of Christ-centered, early love themselves. You can take a walk with Him anytime, and He will be interested in developing a relationship with you. I love this about our Creator. He is Love, and this love is a healing balm for hurting hearts.
To love His sweet, sweet presence,
The times you let Him in;
Spending time in solitude,
only you and Him.
Walking hand in hand,
as you share each others’ day;
Remembering Him in everything,
as you go about your way.
Finding joy in little things,
laughing as you talk;
Knowing He created them,
for that special walk.
Living out your life,
to receive no personal gain;
Knowing that your love for Him,
will mean some tears and pain.
But always looking forwards to,
the day you wonder when;
The promise He had made to you,
the day He comes again!
When I first wrote this poem, it was in the first person. “I” and “my” were the predominant words. It was a time when I felt very alone, but there was comfort in my little house and the peace that was within it. I recently re-wrote it, however, when I discovered that there were some people – just a few mind you, who I felt very much “at home” with. I suddenly “saw” them as gifts from heaven, and I wasn’t as alone as I thought. This is what “Bethany” represents better anyway. A home with three loving people that Jesus was welcome in. He visited there often, and He found rest in this welcoming, hospitable place.
There is a place, ’tis Bethany,
A place we can always stay.
It’s a place right here, so very near,
We enter it when we pray.
It’s true to say, the Lord takes rest
Here is the heart of ours.
He eats with us, He speaks with us.
He feeds us bread and wine.
Oh crushing blows! When in the cold,
Outside is a painful place.
But Love in here, sees all our tears,
and washes them from our face.
Oh cozy place, with peace and love,
Nothing can touch us here.
Secret Garden, our High Tower,
How good to know no fear.
We keep this place, all neat and clean,
We make it for His best.
This is the place, ’tis Bethany
The Lord is pleased to rest.