Jesus, the Very Thought of Thee

Jesus, the very thought of Thee
With sweetness fills my breast;
But sweeter far Thy face to see,
And in Thy presence rest.

No voice can sing, no heart can frame,
Nor can the memory find
A sweeter sound that Jesus' name,
The Saviour of mankind.

O hope of every contrite heart,
O joy of all the meek,
To those who ask how kind Thou art,
How good to those who seek!

But what to those who find? Ah, This
No tongue nor pen can show;
The love of Jesus, what it is
None but His loved ones know.

Jesus, our only joy be Thou,
As Thou our prize wilt be;
In Thee be all our glory now,
And through eternity.

From the Latin 12th century, translated by Edward Caswall (1814-1878)

Jesus, Lover of my Soul

Jesus, lover of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the nearer water rolls,
While the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Saviours, hide,
Till the storm of life is past;
Safe into the haven guide,
O receive my soul at last.

Other refuge have I none;
Hangs my helpless soul on Thee.
Leave, ah! Leave me not alone;
Still support and comfort me.
All my trust on Thee is stayed,
All my help from Thee I bring;
Cover my defenceless head
With the shadow of Thy wing.

Thou, O Christ, art all I want;
More than all in Thee I find!
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,
Heal the sick, and lead the blind.
Just and holy is Thy name,
I am all unrighteousness:
False and full of sin I am,
Thou are full of truth and grace.

Plenteous grace with Thee is found,
Grace to cover all my sin;
Let the healing streams abound;
Make and keep me pure within.
Thou of life the fountain art,
Freely let me take of Thee;
Spring Thou up within my heart;
Rise to all eternity.


~Charles Wesley (1707-1788)

Pursuing Love

Pursuing Love of God,
A deep grace so profound:
He woos and wants me.

The dark is for my good,
To teach me trust and calm:
He moulds and makes me.

(c) Petrel Marijn 2008

Allure my Heart

Allure my heart, O Lord,
To Thy own desert land;
Be Thou its surest ward,
And cage me in Thy hand.

All haggard, I, and flee
Thy mews I would, yet still
Thy Word my creance be,
And man me to Thy will.

Rebellious, I might fly
Against Thy jesses, Lord:
Oh, hood and hold me nigh,
And make of love a cord!

(c) Petrel Marijn 2008

Prayer

Another old Hymn/poem from The Hymn Book, No. 98:


Lord, be thy word my guide,
In it may I rejoice:
Thy glory be my aim,
Thy holy will my choice,

Thy promises My hope,
Thy providence my guard,
Thine arm my strong support,
Thyself my great reward.

~ Christopher Wordsworth (1807-1885)

More Old Poetry

It is strange how vulnerable I feel posting even old poetry... I guess it still strikes too close to heart.

Truth

Behind my hands
my face lurks
tentative, scared, scarred.
Laughter is its shield
quivering in the silence,
every nerve jangling, shaking.
True expression is dangerous;
it is too real, too exposing,
too naked me:
one should never be without clothes. (it's unnatural)
Childhood freedom?
Gone with every don't and shouldn't.

I have my faces
each used on different occasions,
some serving more than one purpose
Not all truth.

Anxiety

I can feel my writhing spirit
wringing its hands
in desperation.
Trying to trust,
but failing miserably,
no matter how it tries.
My stomach clutches
and twists in sympathy.
Promises, promises--
Unanswered? Or just delayed?

Patience seems to be
sickening for something--
Panic perhaps?

Old Poetry

Something I wrote a long time ago--but I was browsing through old files and found it. I had forgotten...

This gluttony
tiny pinpricks
to fill a
gaping whole--
the empty place
where I go
when loneliness
overwhelms
and top it up with
more excess nothing.

it drags
hanging down
weighing on my back
the hole is not satiated
with mere filling
there is more
to this than
comfort
and
substitution.

life, me, and
everything
is just not enough.
Take me, ravish and seduce me
and don't tell me until
it is much, much too late
I need more
than food and clothing
I need-want love and
only your love
satisfies my
craving.

Go to Dark Gethsemane

Go to dark Gethsemane,
Ye that fell the tempter's power;
Your Redeemer's conflict see;
Watch with him one bitter hour;
Turn not from his griefs away:
Learn from him to watch and pray.

See him at the judgement hall,
Beaten, bound, reviled, arraigned;
See him meekly bearing all;
Love to man his soul sustained.
Shun not suffering, shame, or loss:
Learn of Christ to bear the cross.

Calvary's mournful mountain view;
There the Lord of glory see,
Made a sacrifice for you,
Dying on the accursed tree.
"It is finished," hear his cry:
Trust in Christ and learn to die.

~James Montgomery (1771-1854)

To be a pilgrim

Who would true valour see,
Let him come hither:
Here's one will constant be,
Come wind, come weather.
There's no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent
To be a pilgrim.

Whoso beset him round
With dismal stories
Do but themselves confound:
His strength the more is.
No lion can him fright,
He'll with a giant fight,
But he will have the right
To be a pilgrim.

Since, Lord, thou dost defend
Him with thy Spirit,
He knows he at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then fancies fly away!
I'll fear not what men say,
But labour night and day
To be a pilgrim.

~John Bunyan (1628-1688) and others

Dear Lord and Father...

Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
Forgive our foolish ways;
Reclothe us in our rightful mind;
In purer lives thy service find,
In deeper reverence, praise.

In simple trust like theirs who heard,
Beside the Syrian sea,
The gracious calling of the Lord,
Let us, like them, without a word
Rise up, and follow thee.

O sabbath rest by Galilee!
O calm of hills above,
Where Jesus knelt to share with thee
The silence of eternity,
Interpreted by love!

Drop thy still dews of quietness,
Till all our strivings cease;
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of thy peace.

Breath though the heats of our desire
Thy coolness and thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire:
Speak through the earthquake, wind and fire,
O still small voice of calm!

~John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892)

Fire of God

Fire of God, thou sacred flame,
Spirit who in splendour came,
Let thy heat my soul refine,
Till it glows with love divine.

Breath of God, that swept in power
In the pentecostal hour,
Holy breath, be thou in me
Source of vital energy.

Strength of God, thy might within
Conquers sorrow, pain, and sin:
Fortify from evil's art
All the gateways of my heart.

Truth of God, thy piercing rays
Penetrate my secret ways.
May the light that shames my sin
Guide me holier paths to win.

Love of God, thy grace profound
Knoweth neither age not bound:
Come, my heart's own guest to be,
Dwell for evermore in me.

~Albert Frederick Bayly

Elizabethean songs

Author of light

Author of light, revive my dying spright,
Redeem it from the snares of all-confounding night.
Lord, light me to thy blessed way:
For blind with worldly vain desires I wander as a stray.
Sun and moon, stars and underlights I see,
But all their glorious beams are mists and darkness being compared to thee.

Fountain of health, my soul's deep wounds recure,
Sweet showers of pity rain, wash my uncleaness pure.
One drop of thy desired grace
The faint and fading heart can raise, and in joy's bosom place.
Sin and death, hell and tempting fiends may rage;
But God his own will guard, and their sharp pains and grief in time assuage.

by Thomas Campion

So Beauty on the Waters Stood

So Beauty on the waters stood,
When Love had sever'd earth from flood,
So when he parted air from fire,
He did with concord all inspire,
And then a motion he them taught,
That elder than himself was thought,
Which thought was yet the child of earth,
For Love is elder than his birth.

by Alfonso Ferrabosco

Welcome What Comes

Whatever comes, let's be content withall:
Among God's Blessings, there is no one small.

~Robert Herrick from Noble Numbers

Christina Rossetti

I think these poems speak for themselves. I "discovered" the first one on Rajaton's Sanat CD, and it resonated in my heart so much that I had to put it here. Then, I found the others and more...

Weary in Well-doing

I would have gone; God bade me stay:
I would have worked; God bade me rest.
He broke my will from day to day,
He read my yearnings unexpressed
And said them nay.

Now I would stay; God bids me go:
Now I would rest; God bids me work.
He breaks my heart tossed to and fro,
My soul is wrung with doubts that lurk
And vex it so.

I go, Lord, where Thou sendest me;
Day after day I plod and moil:
But, Christ my God, when will it be
That I may let alone my toil
And rest with Thee?


Dost Thou not Care?

I love and love not: Lord, it breaks my heart

To love and not to love.
Thou veiled within Thy glory, gone apart
Into Thy shrine, which is above,
Dost Thou not love me, Lord, or care
For this mine ill?—
I love thee here or there,
I will accept thy broken heart, lie still.

Lord, it was well with me in time gone by
That cometh not again,
When I was fresh and cheerful, who but I?
I fresh, I cheerful: worn with pain
Now, out of sight and out of heart;
O Lord, how long?—
I watch thee as thou art,
I will accept thy fainting heart, be strong.'

Lie still,' 'be strong,' to-day; but, Lord, to-morrow,
What of to-morrow, Lord?
Shall there be rest from toil, be truce from sorrow,
Be living green upon the sward
Now but a barren grave to me,
Be joy for sorrow?—
Did I not die for thee?
Did I not live for thee? Leave Me to-morrow.


Long Barren

Thou who didst hang upon a barren tree,
My God, for me;
Though I till now be barren, now at length
Lord, give me strength
To bring forth fruit to Thee.
Thou who didst bear for me the crown of thorn,
Spitting and scorn;
Though I till now have put forth thorns, yet now
Strengthen me Thou
That better fruit be borne.
Thou Rose of Sharon, Cedar of broad roots,
Vine of sweet fruits,
Thou Lily of the vale with fadeless leaf,
Of thousands Chief,
Feed Thou my feeble shoots.


After This the Judgement

As eager homebound traveller to the goal,
Or steadfast seeker on an unsearched main,
Or martyr panting for an aureole,
My fellow-pilgrims pass me, and attain
That hidden mansion of perpetual peace
Where keen desire and hope dwell free from pain:
That gate stands open of perennial ease;
I view the glory till I partly long,
Yet lack the fire of love which quickens these.
O passing Angel, speed me with a song,
A melody of heaven to reach my heart
And rouse me to the race and make me strong;
Till in such music I take up my part
Swelling those Hallelujahs full of rest,
One, tenfold, hundredfold, with heavenly art,
Fulfilling north and south and east and west,
Thousand, ten thousandfold, innumerable,
All blent in one yet each one manifest;
Each one distinguished and beloved as well
As if no second voice in earth or heaven
Were lifted up the Love of God to tell.
Ah, Love of God, which Thine own Self hast given
To me most poor, and made me rich in love,
Love that dost pass the tenfold seven times seven,
Draw Thou mine eyes, draw Thou my heart above,
My treasure ad my heart store Thou in Thee,
Brood over me with yearnings of a dove;
Be Husband, Brother, closest Friend to me;
Love me as very mother loves her son,
Her sucking firstborn fondled on her knee:
Yea, more than mother loves her little one;
For, earthly, even a mother may forget
And feel no pity for its piteous moan;
But thou, O Love of God, remember yet,
Through the dry desert, through the waterflood
(Life, death) until the Great White Throne is set.
If now I am sick in chewing the bitter cud
Of sweet past sin, though solaced by Thy grace
And ofttimes strengthened by Thy Flesh and Blood,
How shall I then stand up before Thy face
When from Thine eyes repentance shall be hid
And utmost Justice stand in Mercy's place:
When every sin I thought or spoke or did
Shall meet me at the inexorable bar,
And there be no man standing in the mid
To plead for me; while star fallen after star
With heaven and earth are like a ripened shock,
And all time's mighty works and wonders are
Consumed as in a moment; when no rock
Remains to fall on me, no tree to hide,
But I stand all creation's gazing-stock
Exposed and comfortless on every side,
Placed trembling in the final balances
Whose poise this hour, this moment, must be tried?—
Ah Love of God, if greater love than this
Hath no man, that a man die for his friend,
And if such love of love Thine Own Love is,
Plead with Thyself, with me, before the end;
Redeem me from the irrevocable past;
Pitch Thou Thy Presence round me to defend;
Yea seek with piercèd feet, yea hold me fast
With piercèd hands whose wounds were made by love;
Not what I am, remember what Thou wast
When darkness hid from Thee Thy heavens above,
And sin Thy Father's Face, while thou didst drink
The bitter cup of death, didst taste thereof
For every man; while Thou wast nigh to sink
Beneath the intense intolerable rod,
Grown sick of love; not what I am, but think
Thy Life then ransomed mine, my God, my God.

Good Friday

Am I a stone and not a sheep
That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy Cross,
To number drop by drop Thy Blood's slow loss,
And yet not weep?

Not so those women loved
Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee;
Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly;
Not so the thief was moved;

Not so the Sun and Moon
Which hid their faces in a starless sky,
A horror of great darkness at broad noon—
I, only I.

Yet give not o'er,
But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock;
Greater than Moses, turn and look once more
And smite a rock.

Look HERE for more of Christina Rossetti's
Devotional Poems. 

Never Waste Your Pain

Never Waste Your Pain

Dear Lord...
Please grant that I shall
Never waste my pain; for...
To fail without learning,
To fall without getting up,
To sin without overcoming,
To be hurt without forgiving,
To be discontent without improving,
To be crushed without becoming more caring,
To suffer without growing more sensitive,
Makes of suffering a senseless, futile exercise,
A tragic loss,
And of pain,
The greatest waste of all.

-- Dick Innes

I found this poem in a random google search on Hosea 2:14. I found it interesting that the poem was in a sermon preached on my birthday six years ago, since I've taken this verse as my "own".

Sermon on Hosea 2:14 By: Rev. Adrian Dieleman. This sermon was preached on April 28, 2002

www.trinitycrc.org/sermons/hosea02v14.html

An Evening Prayer (in verse)

If I have wounded any soul today,
If I have caused one foot to go astray,
If I have walked in my own willful way--
Good Lord, forgive!

If I have uttered idle words or vain,
If I have turned aside from want or pain,
Lest I myself should suffer through the strain--
Good Lord, forgive!

If I have craved for joys that are not mine,
If I have let my wayward heart repine,
Dwelling on things of earth, not things divine--
Good Lord, forgive!

If I have been perverse, or hard, or cold,
If I have longed for shelter in thy fold,
When Thou hast given me some part to hold--
Good Lord, forgive!

Forgive the sins I have confessed to Thee,
Forgive the secret sins I do not see,
That which I know not, Father, teach Thou me--
Help me to live.

~ Charles H. Gabriel

My Galahad

Self explanatory, I think.

My Galahad--a virgin knight,
His face with lordly honour bright--
Each day he fights the Fight of Fights,
Unending battle for the right.

A princely man, the bravest swain,
He does not quail tho' there be pain;
Thought treachery may bring him gain,
That path he spurns, tho' he be slain.

Tho' evil men against him rail,
He will not heed them or grow pale.
He searches worlds to no avail
Finding only in God, his long-sought grail.

Always--Matt Dusk

Can I have a moment of your time
And leave this far behind
Can you find the time to take a chance
Just walk with me tonight

Even though the rain must fall
Baby that will pass
Listen to the words I say
I've saved them just for you

You're safe with me tonight
And Always
As sure as this full moon
And Always

Lets sit around and shed those lonely tears
While days turn into years

Even though the rain must fall
Baby that will pass
Listen to the words I say
I've saved them just for you

You're safe with me tonight
And Always
As sure as this full moon
And Always

Nothing lasts not the good times or the bad
They all just become the past
Sometimes your heart can turn on dime
What made you cry will one day make you smile

You're safe with me tonight
And Always
As sure as this full moon
You're safe with me tonight
And Always

While on the subject of being given things, I should include these lyrics which come from a song of the same name, on a CD entitled "Two Shots" by the Toronto Jazz singer, Matt Dusk.
I was really blue, in a real "Mood Indigo," one night, feeling lonely and teary and everything a single girl feels when she's overtired and awake at one in the morning. I was sitting on my bed, watery-eyed (and I don't cry that often, if you would believe it!), and listening to Matt Dusk's rather melancholy CD. I was asking God for help to go on, wondering why I was/am still single and feeling oh-so-lonely, when this song came on. Now I'd listened to this CD quite a few times before and never particularly noticed this song, but that night, it became mine, my love song from God.
God was asking for me to really spend time in relationship with Him and reminding me of His constant protection. The assurance and love was overwhelming and I just broke down in full out sobs of gratitude (and I don't cry that often, remember). And I have to remind myself that His love is surer than the "full moon" since He is the one who created it in the first place.
Even now I can feel the love, the true LOVE, that came to me through this song. It was one of the most moving experiences of my entire life!

Take Me

Encompassed in Almighty arms,
Aglow with new life.
Feeling golden, transparent. Alive. And at peace.
Rocked in the long grass,
Face down in the sky,
Open, vulnerable, and glad for it.
O Lord, tear through my thickened veil and take me.


And I will take you to me for a people, and I will be to you a God: and ye shall know that I am the LORD your God, which bringeth you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians.
Ex. 6:7(emphasis mine)

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
1 Cor 13:12(emphasis mine)

Sonnet XIV -- John Donne

Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurped town, to another due,
Labor to admit you, but O, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betrothed unto your enemy.
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again;
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.


This poem really says it all. I've loved this sonnet ever since I first read it and use it as a prayer every time I feel myself slipping. It is difficult to pray sincerely though--the consequences of God really taking me up on my word...could be painful. Sometimes, I avoid praying it, just because it is dangerous, and just use it as a reminder of what I should feel, should want, as a true Christian--but that is copping out. God will do everything we ask ("Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you" Matt 7:7. "And if we know that he hear us, whatsoever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we desired of him" 1 John 5:15.), He can "even" do more ("Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us..." Eph 3:20), we must be courageous enough to face the consequences of our requests. God often answers our prayers in ways we do not at all expect, and it is only after we have the perspective of hindsight that we see how right His way is.

I added this sonnet to the bottom of my blog to remind myself of the real situation of the Christian: we are "betrothed" to Satan and it is only through Christ's death and resurrection that we can ever be "divorced". His love "ravishes" us, it is so overwhelming. He takes us, rather than us allowing Him access, choosing Him. Some may say differently, but it is always God who is the instigator in the relationship, never us.

C.S. Lewis said that he became a Christian against his will. And some people ask, how is it possible that one is an unwilling Christian? The force of God's battering ram can sometimes be so overwhelming and moving that it is almost as if we had no choice in the matter, despite free will. As I once heard in a sermon, it is as if we are a train locomotive and God picks us up and faces us the opposite way on the track: we have no choice but to go forward. (The analogy can be taken farther: the locomotive may slip backward on a steep hill, but it is still facing forward in the direction the Engineer pointed it and, through His grace, the train will, sooner or later, reach its destination.) Only God has the power to turn the engine, no one else, not Satan, not ourselves. We may think that we have turned away from God, but, really, we're only traveling in reverse -- still pointed in the direction God intends us to go.