God Knows BestPermission given to Catherine Pulsifer to publish these poems. |
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Poet: John McLeod, © I wonder, friend, how often you have wept a bitter tear And asked: "Why is this happening to me?" "What step was taken wrongly to deserve this dreary fate, What action brought about this tragedy?" Only to find in time a vital reason for it all, And Faith you thought so steady put to test, To look back with such wonder at the workings of his hands; 'Dear Lord, Thy will be done, and God knows best.' It happens to us all, we are so mortal and so weak All too human in our strange an earthly ways, Falling often by the wayside on our journey through this life Seeking light and fighting ignorance's haze. Truly friends, the help is there, for as ye seek so ye shall find And at journey's end how well you shall be blessed If you truthfully can say without a doubt within your heart Dear Lord, Thy will be done, and God knows best! Do you know some special people who you are thankful for; who make this world just a better happier place. Read the verses in this poetry by John McLeod and see if you can think of a person in your life. The World Turned On Around Her Poet: John McLeod, ©1982 The world turned on around her And the clouds they came and went But she cheerfully accepted Knowing: "What was meant, was meant." And many Souls were helped by her, Her warmth, her gentle mirth, For she could make a little bit Of heaven here on Earth. And I recall her peace of mind The wise, so knowing face, The words of love and gentleness She brought to every place; And Oh, if we could be like her How very dear our worth If we could make a little bit Of Heaven here on Earth. And Friends, we are so very often Selfish in our ways, We close our eyes to Nature's light, The warm sun's golden rays; You have the key, the choice to give Your care and healing forth, To make, with love, a little bit Of Heaven, Here on Earth! |
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Robert H. Schuller Poet: John McLeod, © 1989 Good morning and God bless On this most wonderful of days God given, lit by sunlight Shafting down in golden rays. The heart sings out its wondrous joy In choir with birdsong sweet, And all one's love can employ This beauteous day to greet. Oh skies of azure Blue as any skies could ever be, How glad I am to meet this day How well blessed to be me! Related: for God is my defense." Psalm 59:9 |
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