Here’s a poem I wrote three years ago, published as a newspaper article.
“One of these days,” the old saying goes, that infamous trite, of favor and woes,
“I’ll this or I’ll that,” whether it’s my “ship will come in” or “I’ll get rid of this fat!”
January comes, and February follows, then slowly but surely the promises hollow.
The doldrums return, the vision almost lost, humans fail to see the infinite cost.
“He’s a man of his word,” an interesting phrase, the sum of his actions, given in praise.
Just think were it true of the many, not the few, would peace, love, and harmony ensue?Most people aren’t, because words are just cheap, good intentions to be burned on the rubbish heap.
The thing left undone, lies rotting and wasting, a carcass of words, for the scavenger’s tasting.
“I’ll get around to it” oh, certainly you will, the timing’s the thing, like cash in a till.
Good intentions aside, it’s action He seeks, not tomorrow, the next day, or even next week.
Now is the time, what prevents such a thought? Time itself cannot be borrowed or bought.
Words, words, words, words, spoken and unheeded, the fallow field left unseeded.
“The crux of the matter”, the truth yet untold, most flounder and flutter, and the promises get old.
Transformation is required for most human wills so not to be caught in a broken-promise swill.
Transformation cannot be learned and taught, yet in such knowledge life can be fought.
Winning battle after battle against mediocre living, action in life given, and keeps on giving.
To whom does one go for this transforming power, the life-giving knowledge kept in high tower?
Only one source exists which answers these needs, found only in One man’s words, and His deeds.
“The crux” in fact is the cross of our Christ, without which the enemy achieves a great heist.
To steal the will and soul of man, is his singular focus, his ultimate plan.
“The Old Rugged Cross,” through thousands of years, still now is the resource dispelling our fears.
The man who hung there, with transforming power, now offers a reason no longer to cower.
A trade so simple a child can engage, an action so strong no enemy can upstage.
Invitation to transformation, take it fully in stride, change words into action no darkness can hide.
But a heartbeat away, a choice from inside, to engage the Creator, in His arms you’ll reside.
Do it now, no waiting, no hemming and hawing, do not hesitate, no time now for fawning.
For darkness increases, it’s almost over, even now skies wilt, and there’s no more clover.
Grains of sand draining away, holds time itself in absolute sway.
One choice remains, trust Him completely, rely on His grace, His forgiveness implicitly.
These actions alone, and no other words, will secure eternal life only He affords.
Call on His name, rely on His word, and “one of these days,” will be yours in the Lord.
“He’s a man of His word,” trust it for sure, life which He gives is the life that endures.