Finding The Secret

More Than Conquerors
May 2004

“The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written: ‘I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.’ Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know Him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe. Jews demand miraculous signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man’s strength.” —1 Corinthians 1:18-25

Sometimes we equate wisdom with knowledge, and we consider someone wise who knows a lot, or has a healthy supply of common sense. And though wisdom often includes knowledge and common sense, wisdom many times may seem very foolish to anyone who doesn’t understand the nature of God.

God’s way, the path of wisdom, is the path of sacrifice, of giving yourself for another. To us and our sinful nature, this seems the path of foolishness. We can’t understand sacrifice and love, because our sinfulness is in the way. But it is the path of the wise, and the more we walk it in faith, the wiser we become, and the more we understand that true life is bound up in giving up ourselves for each other.

Humanly speaking, it was utter foolishness for the Infinite to become finite and bear the pain of the cross for us, but in reality, it made much more sense than the decisions we make in our puffed up knowledge. And only when we follow in Jesus’ footsteps and sacrifice ourselves for each other, despite the carnal knowledge that blocks the way, can we become truly wise...

To Walk the Path

To walk the path that God has paved
Looks foolish to those around us,
Sometimes we struggle, with pain and tears
But we know that our job is to trust;

We watch as others go their way
Ignoring their heavenly Father,
We see them prosper with health and wealth—
They wonder why we bother—

Why God in all my faith
Do I have to suffer
When others around me ignore your Word
And they always have a buffer?

Sometimes I question all these things
I wonder if there’s a better way,
I search to find some reasoning
For easier and better days,

But just when I begin to despair
I hear the Savior’s voice,
He clears my head, makes all things new,
Removes the thoughts and noise,

And then His Words are clear to me,
I know His plan is right;
I’m exactly where He knows I should be,
Always in His sight.

So mock me out and laugh if you must,
My job on earth’s not done,
’Cause unbelievers all over the world
Are souls in need of being won!

—Greta Cole
© 2004 Greta Cole. Used with permission.

Sand

We are petty grains of sand,
In a pile, in a hand,
Just waiting to be scattered—

And we all think that we alone know
How everything’s supposed to go,
And what really matters—

But our human wisdom does not shine—
Lord, I know how dim is mine—
And it will not brighten—

Oh, if only we would not neglect
God’s full glory to reflect,
Then our loads would lighten—

And each little silly bit of sand
Will glow more than we think it can,
If we let Him glow—

—Joanna Spencer
© Joanna J. Spencer. Used with permission.

Insane

They grouped Him with the demons,
And labeled Him insane—
The Man who for a brother
Would scoff at any pain!

A love that banished greedy men,
And bites at all our sin;
That carried Him upon the cross
And tore His fragile skin—

He walked out on the stormy sea,
The danger He ignored,
And took the cross though just a word
Could bring an angel horde!

Through human eyes His life appears
To be insanity,
But He came here in violent love
To save humanity;

So I will toss this world away,
And be like Him—insane—
And find that when this life is lost
A home with God is gained!

—Benjamin Graber

My God

“Oh, the depths,
The riches of my God!
Along this beaten
Path so heavily trod.

His heart is unsearchable—
And yet open to me—
The thankful object
Of His divine mercy!

His paths are
Beyond tracing,
His ways—
Beyond understanding—

For who knows the
Mind of my Lord,
His words swift as
A piercing sword?

What can I do for
This Giver of Mercy,
That He should have
Need to repay me?

Nothing! My Sovereign
Lord Himself is Power
His great love taller then
The very highest tower.

He tends His flocks as
A good shepherd would
Loving them, caring for them;
Doing all He should.

Who measures the depths of the sea—
In the palm of His mighty hand?
Who marks the Heavens
With the breadth of His hand?

He holds the dust of
The earth in a basket—
And weighs the mighty
Hills in a balance.

The mountains are
Weighed on His scales.
His hand created
Everything in the trails!

Who can understand
The mind of my Lord?
Who taught Him so
That His knowledge soared?

My God is
Beyond compare—
His name the
Heavens declare—

The stars sing
His name—
The heavens
Also proclaim—

He is Lord—
Above all.
From the sea depths
To the mountains tall.

Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
Have you listened,
But then spurned?

The Lord is the everlasting God—
From one end of the earth to the other—
He’s there for all mankind—
Father, mother, sister, brother.

His strength is unequaled,
His tenderness supreme.
He calls the stars by name,
And directs the flowing stream.

The towering aspens
The mighty oak,
The strong cedar—
God’s name they evoke.

My Lord, my God
My everlasting Father,
Creator of the universe,
Wisdom’s Author.

He grows not
Weary nor tired
No matter what on
Earth transpires.

He gives strength
To the drained—
All through the ages
He has remained.

Those who renew
Their hope in the Lord
Will soar like eagles,
Broken wings now restored.

Those who renew
Their hope in The Holy
Will run and
Not grow weary.

They will run
And not be faint—
Running God’s path
Without restraint.

We are but chaff
Swept by the whirlwind.
Roots, withered
From sin after sin.

He lifts us from the
Depths of despair,
And holds us back
From flying through air.

No, there aren’t words
To describe my God.
As I travel this careworn path,
So heavily trod.

But I’m so grateful for Him,
For I don’t know what I’d do
If He wasn’t by my side
Ever hour and in whatever I do.

My Lord, my God,
My everlasting Father,
Creator of the universe,
Wisdom’s Author.”

—Terra Mandrell
© Terra Mandrell. Used with permission.

Love loveth Thee, and wisdom loveth Thee:
The love that loveth Thee sits satisfied;
Wisdom that loveth Thee grows million-eyed,
Learning what was, and is, and is to be.
Wisdom and love are glad of all they see;
Their love is deep, their hope is not denied;
They rock at rest on time’s unresting tide,
And wait to rest through long eternity.
Wisdom and love and rest, each holy soul
Hath these today while day is only night:
What shall souls have when morning brings to light
Love, wisdom, rest, God’s treasure stored above?
Palm they shall have, and harp and aureole,
Wisdom, rest, love—and lo! The whole is love.

—Christina Rossetti

Choice of Crowns

The choice was pure simplicity—
The crown of mine that I would bear,
For one was jeweled and made of gold,
The other, made of twisted thorns
With aura ’round of cold despair;

My common sense was one with self,
And I desired the crown of gold;
For fame is always near to heart
And flesh avoids all thought of pain—
I knew which crown my brow would hold!

But as I reached for crown of gold
I heard what seemed a distant cry;
As wisdom pointed towards the truth,
And told me that if I would live
Like seeds of grain, I first must die!

So wisdom points to foolishness!
My will for just a moment torn,
But knowing “foolishness” of God
Is better than the best of men,
I swiftly chose the crown of thorns!

—Benjamin Graber

Upon a Journey’s End

Two roads to choose,
But which is the way to go?
What will help to show the path
That is the best to know?

Why turn only along a pretty way,
When other adventure we can find?
If God made our world with such opposing force,
Where is the dividing line?

Does it matter where I journey,
With my inquisitive feet?
Will I have wisdom to decide
Whatever stimuli I meet?

What is the storm,
The dark, the evil for?
Such are the questions of life,
Behind every door.

The brightness of each day
Is that why we know of darkest night.
Do we experience all the contrast,
To know that there is light?

If we never felt the cold,
Why would a coat be worn?
Should we feel the bitter wind,
For the joy of being warm?

If we never felt the pangs
Of hunger, deep within our soul,
Could we find the satisfaction
A delicious meal can hold?

If we didn’t endure pain
And twisted grief within,
Would we desire freedom
From the curse of gripping sin?

Is this the reason for the sharp or blunt,
Soiled or clean, the nice or mean ~
To make choices, every day,
From all that we have seen?

Imagine how that facing death
Presses upon us the desire to live
And, if we all had everything,
Would there be of joy to give?

If we were never lonely,
Why search then for a friend?
Where would be the pleasure,
If the broken couldn’t mend?

If life on earth were all the same,
Could we learn to choose,
Or, as puppets on a string,
Would our thoughts be used?

This life we live can show us
That contrasts make us seek
After things that last forever;
Where life will be complete.

Now, we can find the reason
Why the darkness we will shun.
Jesus broke its curse, for us,
In the victory that He won.

God has wisely planned the struggle,
So we decide the more;
If heaven, with eternal beauty,
Is all we’re yearning for.

Soft Whispers from
Derry’s Heart Poems
© 2003 used with permission
heartwhispers@iinet.net.au

The death of Your Son
Has taken my blame.
My sins blotted out—
With the blood of His Name.

As Wise

A pale, white hand lies motionless
Too tired to move at all—
I know it’s held me many times,
Though I may not recall—

Thin, white hair still beautiful,
After so many years—
Her eyes remain a dreamy blue,
In spite of all the tears—

She has known so many things—
Faces, love, and pain—
I wonder if she’d passed on hurt,
If she would be the same—

It may not happen overnight—
It may take a scar or two—
But I hope one day I can be as wise,
Grandmother, as you—

Crystal Clear

I thought I had a cloudless view
While gazing through the lens of self;
It was like my declaring “new”
The oldest volume on the shelf!

For I was blind to the debris
That hung around me like a fog—
It wasn’t until I could see
I understood the view was clogged.

But when I focused through Your Word
The fog began to clear away,
And soon I saw how quite absurd
It was to call my darkness day!

I now can see the countryside,
Unburdened of my selfish gear—
And now that I in You abide
The view of life is crystal clear!

—Benjamin Graber

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?
Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or
nakedness or danger or sword?… No, in all these things
we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.”
—Romans 8:35, 37

If you have any comments or questions, or if you have a poem to share, please send an e-mail to bgraber@neo.rr.com

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