Finding The Secret

More Than Conquerors
June 2004

“I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” —John 12:24-25

In our physical and spiritual lives, life often comes only through death. A plant cannot grow until a seed falls into the ground and dies, and in the same way in our spiritual life we do not live until we have learned to die to ourselves.

This truth applies in many areas of our lives, but one realm where it can be particularly hard to sacrifice, but very important to learn how to, is in our dreams. We all have dreams for the future, and young people especially can have big dreams—whether it is finding the perfect vocation, becoming a missionary, or getting married and raising a family—but no matter how great or exciting our dreams are, we have to learn to let them fall into the ground and die before they can bear fruit.

As long as we hold on to our dreams and refuse to drop them, they are only dreams. Instead of aspiring to make our dreams come true we should seek to work out God’s will. When we turn our dreams over to God, they are no longer ours, but God’s! He then can work them for our best. When we strive not to make our dreams come true, but God’s will, burying our dreams in His plans, He can bring forth life far greater than any of our dreams!

Icarus

I want to fly far from here—
I want to soar on silver wings—
I want to live my life—a worthy life—
And follow my hazy dreams—
So I lift my wings to fly free and far—
Jump from the prison I hate—
I turn my back on You and all—
Flashing wings toward what I crave—

And You are my Daedalus—
Crying out for me to stay—
You want me still—You want me here—
But I won’t stop—oh, there’s no way—
And I fly higher and higher
Toward my dream—my pretty dream—
Everything is just as I wished—
It is all that I want it to be—

Oh, the clouds are soft like silk and glass—
The air is warm and sweet—
There is nothing to stop my freedom now—
I laugh as much as breathe—

And You are my sorry sun—
With Your heat you bend my back—
My wings are dripping—I am falling—
And screams invade my laughs—

Now dead, I still want to fly—
I want to soar on silver wings—
And to live my life—but I die to live
In what You say should be my dreams—

And You alone are my Substance—
You are the air I breathe—
Remind me, when I try to fly,
You are everything I need—

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

A Question Mark

If my life were a piece of music
The sign now would be “rest.”
If it were a word from the dictionary,
’Twould be simply “trust.”
If it were a sign of punctuation,
My life would be a question mark,
For around the next bend
The road and way is dark.
I know not where this path will lead ,
But I do not walk alone—
My Lord and Savior is with me
And He still reigns on the throne.
Maybe some day my path
Will join with another’s life,
And I’ll have the joy
Of being someone’s wife.
Maybe God has another plan
For His servant, me.
But I can trust Him all the way,
For He will guide me faithfully.
So though all I see are question marks
And I must simply wait and rest
I can trust my Lord to give me
What for this day He deems best.

—Gretchen L. Glaser
© Gretchen L. Glaser. Used with permission.

The Gain That Costs

O, thank You, Lord, your works are far above
The things we think we do in hate or love.
Our inner motives You must teach to us.
In our own hands and works we cannot trust
You look inside and see where it all goes.
To Your eyes, mans helplessness shows.

Hoist the white flag, black-hearted man of shame.
Can you not see your plans go up in flame?
Fell brimstone, plunging, tearing, burning fast,
Obliterates your structures of the past
And shows God watches from above and laughs
At those who wasted time on foolish paths.

So thank you, Lord, my structures, too, collapsed.
I couldn’t gain, could not my all elapse.
I had to be lost so as to be found.
To rise again means first to face the ground.
Wounds are not healed if blood is not first shed.
I am not made alive if not once dead.

—Samuel Popiel

The Burial

You asked me once again
To drop the life I had embraced,
And then to bury it,
Not leaving here the slightest trace;

Reluctantly I did,
While tears of sadness filled my eyes.
While laying down my dreams
My heart was whispering goodbye—

I watched the grave for weeks,
Accepted pain with grim despair—
I died, was buried deep,
And God seemed not to even care!

But then, one day, with joy
I saw the growth of something green,
And knew that from my death
Sprang life beyond my greatest dreams…

—Benjamin Graber

I Trust You, My Lord

I trust You, my Lord, my God.
I’ll trust you when it’s hard.

I know I will one day slip—
Fall flat on my face as I trip.

But let me rise to my knees
And return my life to You, please!

For I am simply a servant to Thee—
My Father above I must heed!

You knew the story of my life before it was begun.
You know when it started and when it will be done!

Help me to simply trust and obey You
In everything I say and do!

I know I’ll never be completely perfect—
But I must, and will, strive to do my best.

I trust You, my Lord, my God.
I’ll trust you even when it’s hard!

—Terra Mandrell
© Terra Mandrell. Used with permission.

Christian Dreamer

By chance, I happened
Upon a room, one day.
In it I found, to my surprise
and much to my dismay ...

It was filled with little twinkling stars
That I could touch and feel.
And, as it were, they would open.
Not a dream; it seem so very real.

I gathered one
Amid, it fell open to my touch
And, then, appearing before me—
The Savior that I loved so much.

I was so amazed and in awe.
Not a dream, but the Savior’s face.
Not just a longed for hope or dream;
He was here, in this very place.

He was bigger than life,
His beauty surpassed by none.
This was my Christ, my Lord
Jesus; my Jesus, God’s only Son.

He pointed to the other stars
And handed one to me.
“Open, my child, and be blessed.
These are dreams, preserved for you, by Me.”

I held the star in trembling hands,
As it opened for me to see.
There, the dream of a forgotten missionary;
Just who I had dreamed to be.

“But, Lord,” I said,
“That dream had died so long ago.
I couldn’t become that person;
As so well, You only know.”

“Your dream was not forgotten,
Just the path has taken a different way.
You have become a missionary,
Every time you kneel to pray.

Here, take another star.
These are your hopes and dreams.
Some, you have seen come to pass.
Others, you thought had died, or so it seems.

The next was my little boy,
How I had dreamed big for him.
He was your bright and shinning star.
His light, since death, has not gone dim.

No, he didn’t live to become
The man you had dreamed he would be.
But, he has left you life and laughter;
Since He came to live with me.

Go ahead and cry your tears.
For, they are counted too.
They are saved, among the stars,
With the hopes and dreams saved for you.

Though, many times,
You thought wasted dreams were for naught;
Never were they wasted, my child. Even those
Flung unto space—in my hands were caught.

Maybe your dreams took a different turn
Than the way you wanted to take;
Some buried with tears, in graves of despair,
But given up for my Sake.

So, my child, linger here
Among your hopes and dreams.
For none is really past
Things aren’t always as it seems.

Go ahead and dream on, my child.
For you are truly blest with many.
Some will come to pass and some will not.
None are wasted, no; not any.

Some will change in form,
Different from the way you planned.
But know this, my child,
They are all found within my nail scarred hand.

Never lose hope in your dreams.
For in them I can see your heart.
It isn’t the end of your dreams that count.
It’s what made them start.

Your dreams of making a better life for others
And living to make it come true,
Praying in faith, and giving hope
Is what Christian dreamers do.

GOD BLESS YOU AND YOUR DREAMS

© 2004 by Sandra Griffin
Used with permission
http://www.our.homewithgod.com/sandra
http://poetrypoem.com/inhimthroughhimforhimsandy

Snowglobe

I hold it to the light.
My hopes swirl and fall.
This is the only thing I want—
I swear that this is all—

But what I hold is illusion—
The snow is just a dream.
Lord, I’m begging, answer me—
I crave this drifting scene—

Silence.
Nothing.
Rage!

What is a dream but emptiness?!
What is a dream but pain?!
What is a dream but the vaguest hope,
Where nothing solid reigns?!

But

To say that dreams cannot come true,
I’d have to say there’s no power in You—

Surrender.

My snowglobe is stirred up again—
I smile and dream lovely dreams—
I know that if only it’s Your Sovereign will,
Perhaps I will hold these things—

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

Take It Out, Take It Back!

A gut-wrench inside me;
All wavers like I am.
Face the pain on my knees
Cringing, not without shame.

I’d run swiftly so far;
My own course was flawless.
Now cruelly I’ve been marred
By prideful carelessness.

The shaft of consequence
Thrust through me and then broke.
’Tis my painful sentence,
And on my blood I choke.

To cut it out is worse
Than being stabbed from the start.
To rid pain at the source
Hurts more the stubborn heart.

Still, this state makes me wail.
This wound is maddening.
Someone help! I’m impaled!
For my sake, bring healing.

—Samuel Popiel

The Beginning of the Ending

A young man, full of dreams,
Walks brave upon this earth.
He has so much to offer;
Full of eternal worth.

Great is his creative talent
To teach, design and draw.
His heart a baton, to open music
Behind many shuttered doors.

Young lives became his canvas,
To paint God’s love upon;
Choosing colors carefully,
So God’s light alone was shone.

Then, weakness struck his life.
He cried, “God, please, let me continue;
Fulfill the dreams, complete the work
You’ve given me to do.

What purpose have You for me,
If I cannot complete the task?
Just let me be Your servant.
Is it so much to ask?

What use am I to You or man,
If You slay me down like this?
How can I help build up Your kingdom,
With my life a shattered mess?

What about my family, Lord;
The one’s You’ve given me to lead?
Can I show them Your great love
And provide them all they need?

But, thank you Lord. I will submit,
If You will just show me what’s ahead;
All the glory that will go to You,
For this suffering, as You said.

I believe all things work out for our good.
The privilege to suffer for Your sake.
So, I humbly bow the knee.
It is Your choice to make.

For, You will soon restore me, Lord,
After this refining in the fire.
Then, I will speak only of Your grace
Of being lifted from the mire.”

The days, they pass, turn into years.
No miracle comes; no great release.
People forget, alone in the tears;
With no celebration feast.

Everything inside crumbles and dies,
The desires and all the dreams.
It’s not happening as was hoped.
Life collapses at the seams.

“GOD, there’s only You. Show me where.
Show me how. Please, show me who.
Release me from this cruel bondage.
My heart, my spirit, cleanse anew.

Do I need my human vitality
To complete Your plan for me?
If I just walk in You ...
Is that the fullness;
The beginning of my eternity?

Soft Whispers from
Derry’s Heart Poems
© 2002 used with permission
heartwhispers@iinet.net.au

The Giver

To give a thing and take again
Is counted meanness among men;
To take away what once is given
Cannot then be the way of heaven!

But human hearts are crumbly stuff,
And never, never love enough,
Therefore God takes and, with a smile,
Puts our best things away a while.

Thereon some weep, some rave, some scorn,
Some wish they never had been born;
Some humble grow at last and still,
And then God gives them what they will.

—George MacDonald

Sometimes a poem can be even more inspiring if it is reflected upon. Following are a few questions to think about on the poem “The Giver” by George MacDonald, and some of my thoughts.

Why is an action that “is counted meanness among men” be something an all-loving God would do?

Since God is all-knowing, He knows what is really best for us. We in our selfishness may consider it “mean” to have something taken away from us, but God is really taking it from us for our benefit.

Even though we “never, never love enough”, why would having things taken from us help us learn to love?

When we grow humble and still at last we learn that true life doesn’t depend on the things we get, but what we can give. And giving is what love is all about..

What is the proper way to react when “God takes and, with a smile, puts our best things away a while”?

To grow humble and still, and to wait upon God, realizing that He knows what is best for us, and that He disciplines us as sons to form us into His image.

How can we apply these thoughts to our dreams?

When it seems like God has taken our dreams away instead of making them come true, we need to humbly wait on Him, and His timing. When we have learned humility, then maybe God will give us our heart’s desires.

Sacrifice
I died to the vision of marriage, Lord.
Surrendered all my hopes and dreams.
You want me broken and contrite,
Wholly before You, it seems.
All the air castles I’d built
Lay shattered at Your feet.
I tore them down
As echoed their cries of defeat.
Broken I am before You, Lord.
My heart is bleeding.
My eyes have no more tears.
On Your Word only I’m feeding.
I sacrificed all my hopes,
Gave everything to You.
But I can’t expect You to make
Anything wonderful and new.
I must stay as I am, a servant
Broken at the feet of her Master.
Willing to serve You
Lonely, solely, wholly, holy, forever.
—Gretchen L. Glaser
© 2001 Gretchen L. Glaser. Used with permission

I Surrender to You, My Lord

A roses soft, curvaceous petal.
Delicate violets on the ground settle.
Trees sway in the gentle breeze—
The thermometer raises its degrees.

Animals trot from here to there
“Tweet! Tweet!” the birds declare.
Everything in life is passing me by
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Love shouldn’t be the pinnacle in my life—
I shouldn’t want this badly to be a wife!
I shouldn’t feel that my life won’t be complete
Until my husband I one day meet.

But now I know what you want, my Lord!
You want me to surrender to Your sword.
I die to the image
My Lord, of marriage!

I surrender all my hopes and dreams.
I surrender my feelings, and my pleas.
It seems You want me completely broken before You.
So that is how I now offer myself and all I do!

My heart is bleeding
Yet Your words I’m heeding.
There are no tears left to cry,
As to my life Your word I apply.

And I do realize—
That no more can I idealize
These fancy thoughts of marriage and love
I must give them to my Father above.

I continue to broken be—
As at my masters feet I plea:
“Fill me with Your goodness, my master, my King.”
“Shelter me ’neath Your covering wing.”

“I’m willing to serve You
With my entire life.”
“And that includes giving
Up this wanting to be a wife!”

Lavender

Sometimes we’re trapped in fantasies,
And sifted from the present day
A chasm breaks the heart and mind.

The heart will seek its own to please,
In lands of lovely shadows stray,
Until the shadows make it blind.

But oh, the flavor of romance!
The heart is longing to be filled,
To taste imagination’s feast—

But do not fall into that trance!
The glory of your heart will spill
The moment shadows are released…

So reach instead for true delight
That lays this side of fantasy,
And find the plan God has for you—

For lavender is clear in sight
Of those who will but choose to see—
As God’s dreams are becoming true!

—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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