I Am Not Afraid

I am writing today from the beautiful Tampa Bay area.

I am writing today from the beautiful Tampa Bay area.

13 years later, I still can not believe some people took some airplanes and did what they did. They day after 9-11 I wrote this poem and emailed it to some friends. Somehow a Christian radio station in Dallas Texas got a hold of it and read it on the air. In memory of 9-11 I am sharing it again here.

On 9-11-01 Satan manifested himself in the terrorists who were glad to die if they could destroy someone else. On that same day God was manifested in the rescue workers, who were glad to die if they could just save someone else.

               I Am Not Afraid

I am not afraid of bigotry and hate in the terrorists’ hearts.

I am afraid of the bigotry and hate in MY heart.

I am not afraid to die as a Christian in a terrorist attack.

I am afraid to live without Jesus even in times of peace.

I am not afraid to die at the hand of a terrorist tomorrow, having shared God’s love with someone today.

I am afraid to live to be a hundred and ten, never having shared God’s love.

I am not afraid to walk through the valley of death with my Jesus.

I am afraid to walk over the highest mountain without Jesus.

I am not afraid of my loved ones dying in an explosion tomorrow.

I am afraid of my loved ones living without Jesus.

I am not afraid of a terrorist taking my life away from me.

I am afraid of me taking my life away from Jesus.

I am not afraid of terrorists exhibiting hatred.

I am afraid of Christians not exhibiting love.

1 John 4:4   Ye are of God, little children, and have overcome them: because greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world.

1 John 4:18 -21 There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love. We love him, because he first loved us. If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen? And this commandment have we from him, That he who loveth God love his brother also.

John 16:33   These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.

Psalms 91:5 tells us if we love God we do not need to fear terror. There were some that day who died, knowing they were saved and would see Jesus. For these precious souls the would be terrorists totally failed to terrorize.

Glimpses Of Grace; Blood On Our Hands

Below is a poem I wrote when I was circa 15 years old, living in the house in this picture in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Back in my early teens, I was just getting into music, and loved contemporary Christian music. I wrote the poem below, hoping someone would set it to some contemporary Christian music. I actually have a friend who is currently working on it now, 30 years later. I thought I would go ahead and share the lyrics to my poem.

Blood On Our Hands

There was a man, he really walked the earth

He was just like us, He had a natural birth

He had feelings He was a natural man

And we’ve all got His blood on our hands

He was a righteous man, never did wrong

The weak found refuge in Him, He was strong

There wasn’t a problem He didn’t understand

And we’ve all got His blood on our hands

The preacher stands proud as though he should

Trying to stand for all that’s good

He claims he stands for God’s commands

But he can’t deny the blood on his hands

The patriarchs and prophets of old

Were Godly men so we are told

It’s really hard for us to understand

These men walked with blood on their hands

Church is a place where good people go

They all feel righteous when there they show

They wonder when their friends will see the light

And follow them right out of the night

They tell everyone they’ve been set free

They say “you won’t find no sin in me”

When they all know if God’s grace didn’t show

The church would all stand on murderer’s row

With blood on their hands, with blood on their hands

The paupers and the kings in every land

Thos who are wise, those who can’t understand

Are no different, all have blood on their hands

So who dares to stand bold before the throne

Who dares to pick up and throw the first stone

So everyone is equal and even this time

No one’s greater here, we’re all partners in crime.

Jesus Wept; The Bible and Human Emotions, Lesson 9; It’s Just me

I am writing tonight from the beautiful Tampa Bay area.

This Week’s SS lesson (Download phone app.) on Self-esteem, reminds me of a poem I wrote, several years ago while living in Fort Worth, Texas. As a kid, I was a big sports fan. I would read the sports standings in the paper everyday, and somehow thought that the cities with first place teams were somehow living a higher existence and breathing different air than the rest of us. Years later, when I became a Christian book salesman, reality started to set it. I was leading my conference in sales, but somehow I was still breathing the same air everybody else breathed. I was no better than anybody else. Then I moved to the Dallas-Fort Worth area about the time the Dallas Cowboys won their last two Superbowls. I then realized my how wrong I was as a kid. The grass was no greener after Dallas won the superbowl than it was before. The air was the same too. Funny thing too, when the Cowboys failed to make the playoffs the grass did not fade. Win or lose, succeed or fail, people are people. We are all just people. Likewise, when I was leading my conference in sales I was no more or less a person than I was the next year when I did not lead the conference in sales.

Back in 2003, I wrote this poem, illustrating how we are all just people no worse or better than anybody else. It doesn’t rhyme at the beginning but does at the end. Weird, I don’t know why I did it that way.

                                                                   It’s Just me

 

I’ve been chauffeured in the back seat of a Cadillac.

I’ve been behind the wheel of an old Volkswagen Beetle.

I’ve eaten in fancy restaurants with all my friends.

I’ve eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwiches all alone.

But all in all I’m just me, it’s just me.

I’ve laughed out loud with the rest of the crowd.

I’ve cried alone where no one else could hear.

I’ve been in first place at the end of a race.

I’ve been so far behind, when will this game just end?

But after all is said and done, I’m just me, it’s just me.

I preached sermons that have moved congregations to tears.

I have preached sermons that have lulled congregations to sleep!

My friends have given me too much praise for a human being.

My adversaries have given me too much criticism, give me a break!

But at the end of it all, I’m just me; it’s just me.

Into every life a little rain and sunshine must fall.

Sometimes I feel small, and other times I feel tall.

I’m no more a person when I do well.

I’m no less a person when I fail.

But either way, I’m just me; it’s just me.

So don’t think that I am perfect all of the time.

Surely you don’t expect all my poems to rhyme.

I often succeed, but I also fail time and again.

Please don’t praise or condemn, just be my friend.

Because win or lose, I’m just me, it’s just me.