Take My Hand

When trouble comes. Pain, death, sorrow, suffering..., (the list so long).
We know we need help.
We tend to be drawn closer to God in our need.
Yet for many, they don't know they can reach out.
He is so close. Yet He waits,
patient like the prodigal's father,
waiting for us to reach out.
The blessing of these poems,
so many not yet posted,
is being able to read messages from God,
both in time of sorrow, and in time of joy.

What amazes me is how things written years ago seem so fresh.
He calls to me in this time of woe, stress so strong,
that seems more than I can handle.
Yet He has already given me His words.
Such a simple answer.

Reach out.
Take My hand.

All I have to do is remember.
All I have to do is reach out.
He is there.

This poem so appropriate:

Take My Hand
Step out in faith.
Know I’m with you.
In darkness
see My light.
When life’s woes
press around you
reach out your hand.
Know I’m with you.

As we walk
along the path
hear Me speak
in the silence.
Listen to Me
as you rush
far too busy
to stop & pray.

Turn aside
hear My voice
in wounded man
beside your path.
In your pain
take My hand.
Climb into My lap.
Rest in My peace.

© June 6, 2001, Presbypoet


I rest.
Secure.
Knowing He is present.
He fills me.
I am at peace.
Now to go take up my cross.
Presbypoet, November 14, 2005