Posts Tagged ‘Christian Poems’

To My King

Do you remember me as I was
when they first brought me before you?

Death was my sentence.

In my cage of wooden slats
on a rickety cart
wheeled before You
shame, humiliation my only adornments

Like an animal I had lived,
a wild donkey sniffing the wind
now cast aside

I loved You when I first saw You
hanging in that church
hanging on the cross
hanging above the altar
hanging above us
hanging for us–they said
But it was a distant love
love of a kind stranger

But I loved You so much more
that day in the market
when You lifted my head
not like the others
estimating my worth
with a critical eye
mindful of my many flaws

Yours was a tender evaluation
seeing me–the real me
hidden beneath
caked on
baked on
mud and manure
hair a stringy mess
face taut with hunger
no muscle or beauty to commend me
I felt something from you that day
something for me
not against me
a leaning towards me
not recoiling from me
a longing for me
a desire to be with me
near me

I watched in disbelief
as You emptied your purse
heavy, gold coins spilling into his hands
You insisted he take it all
“She is,” You tell him, “Worth every coin.”

A pearl of great price
a treasure hidden in a field
sought after

My life starts that day
You draw me
enthrall me
with Your words,
so many beautiful words.

Words of hope, comfort and encouragement first:
Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.
Weeping may endure for night, but joy comes in the morning.
I collect all your tears in a bottle–I see your sorrow.
I place the solitary in families.
I will restore the years the hordes of locust have eaten.
I know the plans I have for you, plans for good,
plans to give you a future full of hope.
I have searched you and I know you.
I understand your thoughts.
I am acquainted with all your ways.
I will lead you and my right hand will hold you.
I am for you; not against you.
No weapon formed against you shall prosper.
I will deliver you from every trap and snare
they lay for you to try and capture you.
I will heal all your diseases.
I will drive away the terror at night.
My truth and my words will protect you.
My angels will watch over you.
When you call on Me, I will answer.
When you are in trouble, I will come and get you.
I will never leave you or forsake you.
We will always be together–forever

Those words and so many more
cascading over me
like riparian springs
of living water
a healing balm to my soul
they buoy me up
they give hope

but what pierces my heart
and tethers me to You
are Your words of intimate love for me:
I have loved you with an everlasting love.
I will quiet you with My love;
I will rejoice over you with singing.
I loved you so much I gave up everything,
My honor, My status, My own family,
that you might live and be together with me
as my wife forever.
You are My beloved and I am yours.

And so my King,
on this our wedding day
I confess:
it was Your kindness that drew me
Your words that made me clean
thus my life, I submit to you
fully yielding all
take me
and make me
Your own–for eternity.

MaryBeth Mullin 2020

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Irreparably Broken

Irreparably Broken

I swim in the waters of my trial
your promises buoy me
I feel peace descend
A canopy over me
I will be all right

But clear waters turn swiftly to rolling white caps,
crashing on the sandy shore
from underneath, I feel the pull, the undertow of sorrow
pulling me, threatening me, holding me under the surface,
to drown me

I struggle to stay afloat,
reaching in my prayers for the arms of my Father, wanting You to take me from these waters
snatch me out, take me with You.
“Take me!” I cry. I want to be with You–completely with you

My tears are little comfort, my soul is bruised,
my confidence shattered,
I am broken.
I will never be the same.

You don’t correct me.
It is so. Irreparably broken.

Copyright 2016


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Peace After a Storm

When darkness long has veiled my mind,
and smiling day once more appears,
then, my Redeemer, then I find
the follow of my doubts and fears.

Straight I upbraid my wandering heart,
and blush that I should ever be
Thus prone to act so base a part
or harbor one hard thought of Thee.

Oh! Let me then at length be taught
what I am still so slow to learn;
that God is love and changes not,
nor knows the shadow of a turn.

Sweet truth, and easy to repeat!
But when my faith is sharply tried,
I find myself a learner yet,
unskillful, weak, and apt to slide.

–William Cowper (1731-1800)


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a lone tree
clings to the banks of the raging river
leaves tossed
boughs bent
daily tested by the elements

its roots dig deeper
holding the tree to the shore
security sought in the deep rich soil

how the barren tree during the storm
its leaves blown off

how ugly the tree
its bark patched
its branches twisted

but the clouds disperse
the sun greets the little tree
coaxing it heavenward

by the time the warmth of Spring arrives
the tree is covered in green buds
a promise of many leaves and much fruit

Psalm 1:3 He shall be like a tree Planted by the rivers of water, That brings forth its fruit in its season, Whose leaf also shall not wither; And whatever he does shall prosper.

Job 23:10 But He knows the way that I take; When He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold.
Copyright MaryBeth Mullin


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We who love Jesus
are flawed

We are the Mary Magdalenes,
the women at the well,
the women with the issue of blood
the women caught in adultery
the impure
the unclean
the tax collectors
the prostitutes

Others reject us
hate us
are repulsed by us-
the proof of our sin
woven into our garment
but no longer tarnishing our souls.

We fall short
we disappoint
we’re harsh
we’re weak
we hurt others
we hold grudges
we back-bite
we defame
we’re difficult
we’re hypocrites
we’re human

But God
separates us
sets us apart
in Him
we find our sufficiency

In God
is our bond
we call out, “Abba”
the children of God
He loves us
planned for us
bled and died for us

He restored us
He justified us
He made a way for us
became the way for us
He is sufficient

We are not orphans
He will return for us
Our Great God
Our Good Father
Our Savior and Redeemer

He has never–
not for one moment
never–no never
lost sight of us

We are His
He is ours
He is sufficient

We grow weary
we give up
we run away
leaving chaos in our wake
ignoring the pain we cause
the slights
the cuts
the dagger pushed in
to its hilt
pulled out, dripping crimson

We hate
we kill
we kill hope
we kill ourselves
we hide dreams under burial mounds

we resist righteousness
we resist goodness
we resist gentleness
we resist kindness
we resist all that would bring us peace
nevertheless He is faithful

We are insufficient
But He is sufficient


Mary Mullin, Copyright 2020

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I was ordinary in so many ways
not the best or brightest
not the worst or dullest
not the oldest
not the youngest

my composition so much working class
and small-town somebodies

Born a girl
raised fatherless
but not an orphan

penny pinching but not penniless
clothes from catalogues
before that was a thing

My gifts I squandered,
tossing my pearls before so many swine

not considering their value
not considering my value
not knowing my purpose
not knowing His purpose
not comprehending His plans

I was someplace
not a bad place
but not my place

I had a someone
not a bad one
but not the right one

I was encouraged to take credit
eyes on self

I did
I got
I wanted
I became

An “I”-problem stole my life

a life of glory thievery
nearly kept me from the King of glory
from whole life
healed life
abundant life
God-driven life
God-centered life
God-filled future

I stole His glory
I stole from myself
I stole my chance to bring glory
to be a glory giver
not a glory thief
to know the glorious One
to serve the King of glory

**Glory thief – one who steals for himself the glory that belongs to God
I am the Lord, that is My Name; My glory I will not give to another.
Isaiah 42:8a

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I know my heart has prayed this prayer . . .

Prayer for Song

Mend my broken mood,

Maker of Life and Song,

Lest this interlude

Of silence be too long.

Call my soul awake,

Set my heart aflame!

Singing fire will make

Ash of sloth and shame.

Touch my lips with song,

Wing my words with good.

Shepherd of things gone wrong,

Mend my broken mood.

—Fay Lewis Noble

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