Soils

The soil was baked very hard and the seed bounced off
I would not listen to God and would only scoff
It was unreceptive and unrepentant ground
And no time or place for God's Word was to be found

Littered with many stones and exposing no ground
Full of crevasses but little soil was to be found
The seed fell into a crack germinating there
It grew quickly but shrivelled under the suns glare

Covered with weeds and leaving so very little soil
My life all mixed up and full of care and turmoil
The Word of God tried hard to germinate and grow
But the cares and worries of this world choked it so

The soil was prepared and I readily received
God's Word was spoken and as I heard and believed
It sprang up in my heart over many a year
And blossomed and bloomed as I saw the fruit appear

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poem by Royston
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Lowered down on a mat

Four of them carried me up the steps at the side
and then they began to open the rooftop wide.
They lowered me on my mat right down to the ground
at the feet of Jesus with people standing round.

Jesus saw the faith of my friends and said to me
'You are forgiven take up your mat and go free.'
But as He healed me and when I took up my bed
'Blasphemy, only God can forgive, ' someone said.

Then Jesus replied 'Why are you thinking these things? '
'For the Son of Man has power to forgive sins.'
'Is Your sins are forgiven' easier to say'
'Than the words, ‘Take up your mat and walk on your way? '

So I took up my mat and walked out of their view
for I had not just been healed but forgiven too.
All the people present praised God for what they saw.
No one had experienced anything like this before.

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Not a word He said

Before the Sanhedrin You spoke no word
and from Your lips no sound was heard.
Silent like a mute not a word was said
as awayto the cross, Lord You were led.

Your lips were silent and there came no sound.
In Your defence nothing was to be found.
As a lamb before the shearer is dumb
so from Your lips not a word was to come.

Angels were waiting for your bidding, Lord.
Silently You stood and spoke not a word.
You could have summoned that great army Lord.
They were ready and waiting for one word.

Silent there before Your accusers, Lord.
To their amazement You said not a word.
Louder than thunder was Your silence Lord.
Much more powerful than the spoken word.

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The Touch Of Your Hand

I was fascinated by your hands yesterday
touching all those you met on your way.
Holding the hand of a child so tenderly.
Working hard to care for friends and family.

Those hands were the hands of the Lord.
They spoke more powerfully than any word.
And I saw sweet works of Jesus taking place
as you reached out to touch others by His grace.

But then to my pleasure and my great joy
you reached out taking the hand of your Roy.
Lifting my soul to such heavenly heights
and filling my heart with loving delights.

It was such a privilege to hold and be near
touching the hand of the one I love so dear.
I felt I was being held by the hand of the Lord
for such blessings can only come from God.

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From Womb To Tomb Is My Life Going To Be

I had never, ever seen the light of day
and have had to use a stick to find my way.
From womb to tomb is my life going to be
a life of darkness because I cannot see?

'Lord who did wrong' someone said,
'Was it this man or his parents instead? '
'No one had sinned' I heard Jesus say.
'For you will see the glory of God today.'

Just there as we stood to my great surprise
He made some mud and pasted it on my eyes.
Then He told me to go to the place called 'Sent'
So off to the Pool of Siloam I went.

As I washed my eyes I received my sight
and for the very first time could see sunlight.
Saw men and animals, trees and the sky
and watched all the peoples walking by.

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The man with the deformed hand

On the Sabbath with my shrivelled deformed hand
in front of all the people I took my stand.
Everyone was watching expectantly
I know it's the Sabbath but will He heal me?

The Pharisees and the teachers of the law
were very unhappy with the things they saw.
They looked for reasons to accuse Him of sin
and if He healed me then they thought they would win.

He said, 'On the Sabbath should we do evil? '
'Should we save a person's life or should we kill? '
Jesus spoke these words to the Pharisees there
they were quiet showing no compassion or care.

Then, 'Stretch out your hand, ' Jesus commanded me
and restored my withered hand for all to see.
So when I placed both of my hands together
the bad hand was made as good as the other.

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Another Book Written By The Heavenly Author

I was intricately woven upon Your heavenly loom
as You carefully knit me together in my mothers womb.
In that most secret of places when my conception took place
You prepared me for my birth and entry into the human race.

Before the first moment of my earthly existence began
You had written in Your book my inmost being and life plan.
Each syllable penned with words in calligraphy composed.
There as each sentence was handwritten the paragraphs flowed.

From the first chapter of my birth to the last one of my death
each had been lovingly written before I'd taken a breath.
I praise You that I am fearfully and wonderfully made
the handiwork of my Great Creator is in me displayed.

My life is like a book that can be read by everyone
because it tells of Your Grace and the wonders Jesus has done.
For in Your mercy before the world was made and time began
You had included this poor child in Your great Salvation plan.

poem by Royston
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No light only the darkest shades

No light only the darkest shades.
No colours just blackness pervades.
There's no movement of any kind.
I cannot see for I am blind.

Blind from my very birth was I
and blind I'll be until I die.
Never to see the sun shine bright.
Never to see a picturesque sight.

Never to see a fellow man.
Only to touch and never scan.
Condemned to beg for daily bread.
I'll not see less even when I'm dead.

Then I heard an exciting sound.
Jesus Christ was coming around.
The Son of God was passing by.
'Have mercy on me, ' was my cry.

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You Chose To Climb The Hill And Not Turn Back

'Father, not My will, but Yours be done, ' You said
then climbed the hill to the cross Your blood to shed.
There You chose to bear my pain and wear my shame
even though You were innocent and not to blame.

A load much heavier than the cross You bore
piercing deeper than the crown of thorns You wore.
You were smitten of God and forsaken too
when my sin came between the Father and You.

There lash by lash the price for each sin You paid
as all my guilt and shame upon You was laid.
Then 'It is finished, ' in victory You cried
as You bowed Your head upon that cross and died.

Deep waves of love and mercy flowed from the cross
as Your blood was poured out all my sins to wash.
They're gone as far as the East is from the West
and I'm now forgiven and so very blessed.

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Here I am - send me

There before the beginning, 'Send me', You said
choosing to go the cross and die in my stead.
There in the garden great drops of blood you sweat
so determined to follow the pathway set.

'Father, not My will but Yours be done' You said.
Knowing all things before You still went ahead.
Carrying Your cross up Golgotha's hill You went
and there as a sacrifice Your life was spent.

For You climbed that steep hill to die in my stead.
On the cross of Calvary Your blood was shed.
Whilst hanging on that tree You took all the blame
and paid the penalty for my sinful shame.

'My God, why have You forsaken me', You cried
and then You laid down Your life for me and died.
It was for my transgressions that You hung there
and upon Your body my punishment bear.

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poem by Royston
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