Finding The Secret

More Than Conquerors
October 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

“Then Jesus said to his disciples, ‘If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.’” —Matthew 16:24-25

A seed can only bear fruit after it has died. In the same way we can only bear fruit in our lives if we deny ourselves and take up our cross.

Throughout the Bible God used different people to bring about his will. But in most instances God had to break the person before He used them. Joseph had to endure slavery and abuse before he could be Pharaoh’s aide; Moses had to endure the wilderness before he saw the burning bush; David was nobody before he could be made somebody; Peter had to disown Christ and be completely humbled before God could use him as the rock the Church was founded on; Paul had to live in the desert for three years before he was sent out by the Holy Spirit. Even Jesus had to fast for forty days before He began ministering to the multitudes, and had to die on the cross before He conquered death.

God also has to break the old self in us before He can use us to do great things for Him. He does this by bringing trials in our lives to refine us. Every trial teaches us faith, patience, and humility.

So consider it pure joy when you face trials of all kinds—because God is breaking our selfishness so that He can use us for His will!

Give It Away

The cold hard seed,
just like a bead,
Lay shining in my hand.
I opened up the brown warm earth,
And slipped that seed down deep.
I gently closed the little hole
And covered it with sand.

The sun beat down,
Upon the mound,
And water drizzled in
Days passed by, that little seed,
Lay quiet in suspense,
Waiting for his special moment
For life to burst within.

His skin was stretched,
His heart was wrenched,
Power burst him wide apart.
Tiny tentacles of life went down,
The little shoot went up
Up to find the sun,
Broken, was that little heart.

The seed lay dead,
His spirit spent,
The old self was no more.
It offered up the life it held,
To multiply,
and bear much fruit,
It sacrificed its all.

I am alive,
But need to dive,
Into demise,
My life I have to give away
To be renewed,
To reproduce
For from that death, I rise.

Not for my fame
Nor to be lame
But to have a whole new worth
To glorify The Father,
To give back
What He gave
For Jesus did the very same.

Soft Whispers from
Derry’s Heart Poems
© 2004 used with permission
heartwhispers@iinet.net.au

Wholeness

Crushed into powder and tossed to the wind,
Scattered across the expanse of the beach;
Standards were high, but I tripped on my feet—
All of my goals tumbled far out of reach!

Who could discover the bits that remain?
Millions of broken desires share this space;
After my labor is this my return?
Now it appears that my work was a waste—

Destitute, severed, a vapor of sand,
Longing to win, I fell far from the goal—
Now God can use me, ‘cause self is destroyed,
Though I am nothing, ‘tis here I am whole!

—Benjamin Graber

Living by the spirit
Walking with my Lord
Daily reading the Bible,
His holy, written Word.

Bring forth fruit,
In depths of deepest despair.
Bringing forth fruit
In heights of highest air.

Clinging to the cross,
Though doubts and fears assail
Clinging to the cross,
For He will never fail.

—Terra Mandrell
© Terra Mandrell. Used with permission.

Pretending

Broken splinters of who she is
Have stabbed themselves at me again—
And all I say is dust and drought—
Nothing helps when we share the pain—

I try so hard to make it right.
I try so hard my corners strain
And crack as broken bits of us
Are thrown across the floor again.

She tries so hard to make it right.
She tries so hard the pillows heat,
And sadness piles on her soul,
Pretending what it cannot see.

We’re broken, God—they’ve broken us.
We are tired of trying to be the glue—
We are sick with what just cannot be—
We are sick with all our hopes and dreams—
And Father, what we need is You.

You to plant our seeds again—
You to water lovingly—
You to mend the brokenness
We’ve tried to patch so clumsily—

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

Hard Times

I am weary, and very lonely,
And can but think—think.
If there were some water only
That a spirit might drink—drink,
And arise,
With light in the eyes
And a crown of hope on the brow,
To walk abroad in the strength of gladness,
Not sit in the house, benumbed with sadness—
As now!

But, Lord, thy child will be sad—
As sad as it pleases thee;
Will sit, not seeking to be glad,
Till thou bid sadness flee,
And, drawing near,
With thy good cheer
Awake thy life in me.

—George MacDonald

God will never abandon me
He’ll be always by my side.
He will be here for me
Through the winds of the tide.

—Terra Mandrell
© Terra Mandrell. Used with permission.

Crevices

The plates of life have moved in time
With God’s unfolding plan;
The shifts, in tune with deeper truths
Have cracked the face of land,
While recklessly they go their way,
They break the works of man—

They also work within my heart
Although I don’t permit
A soul to touch my inner rooms,
They’re power doesn’t quit;
And all the dreams I’d treasured here
With cracks of doom were split!

The crevices have torn my heart,
And nothing whole remains—
And yet, there springs up something good
In spite of all my pain,
‘Cause only through our brokenness
The will of God may reign!

—Benjamin Graber

“Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth”

“One sorrow more? I thought the tale complete.”—
He bore amiss who grudges what he bore:
Stretch out thy hands and urge thy feet to meet
One sorrow more.

Yea, make thy count for two or three or four:
The kind Physician will not slack to treat
His patient while there’s rankling in the sore.

Bear up in anguish, ease will yet be sweet;
Bear up all day, for night has rest in store:
Christ bears thy burden with thee, rise and greet
One sorrow more.

—Christina Rossetti

Speech Always with Grace

Two doors both sweetly sanctified
Reveal a passage full of light.
My darkened thoughts are forced to hide
By reason of its holy bright.

My incredulity abounds—
I’d heard of tranquil peace before.
Who could have thought that I’d have found
Such beauty here behind these doors?

Whence had I gone? Whence came this place
That placed life at my fingertips?
I found it in a gentle face
Reviving me with truthful lips.

Praise God! The message freed my soul.
I’m bound no longer in the black.
The lips were doors most beautiful
So softly beckoning me back.

—Samuel Popiel

Too Wonderful For Me

In the ancient land of Uz,
lived a gentleman called Job,
This man was pure and blameless,
because he feared his God.
Life was good and true,
living in God’s law,
Daily he thanked His God, for the blessing that he saw.
God gave him lovely daughters and seven strapping guys,
Flocks of fluffy sheep and cattle herds of size,
He was the most significant man,
living in the east,
With loyal workers for pursuits, from the greatest to the least.

Those handsome sons threw parties, for all to wine and dine,
Calling to their beautiful sisters,
for a festive time,
Just in case there was a sin, for which someone should pay.
Job sacrificed on his altar,
early every day,
But then the time drew near, for Job to face a test,
To see if his constant faith
could survive a mighty quest,
Satan had a plan, he was ready now to move,
Job’s hidden motives, he decided he would prove.

God said,
“satan, have you seen my faithful servant?”
satan spat back in reply, “He is, only while You’re fervent,
If You strip him of his flocks, his family and his gold,
Then he will curse You to Your face,
His life will all be sold.”
“Very well,” said God, “But you must spare his life.”
So satan took everything,
(except for his fearful wife)
Fire burned the sheep and raiders stole the cattle,
A storm killed the family,
but Job’s faith still didn’t rattle.

He arose up as usual,
to worship of his Lord,
“The Lord has blessed my life,
He can also wield the sword.
Blessed be the God of heaven, my Father for always,
No matter what will happen, my King I will praise.”
“Oh no”, growled satan, “ I think I lost that round”
So he went back to God for another cruel pound,
“Job still loves Me”,
God pointed out,
satan retorted, “Let me at his flesh,
then I’ll make him pout”!

“Very well”, said God, “I will let you try,
But do spare his life,
for I don’t want him die”.
So satan covered Job, completely with the blain,
He couldn’t sit or lie,
for relentless pain
Along came his three friends to wallow in his dearth,
To listen to Job’s agony,
while he questioned of his birth,
The friends thought they’d help,
by blaming Job of sin,
Believing they were justly right, by accusing him.

Job felt attacked and confused by their word,
He could not recall anything,
in which he had erred,
People used to seek him, for his wise face,
So he cried out to God,
please, give me back Your grace,
Why treat me so, with this sore disgrace,
Please make some sense,
of this dry barren place.
I cry out for help,
but still I get no answer,
Rid my raging soul, of overwhelming rancor,

I’ve always done what’s right,
for each of my mates,
I’ve only known respect, at the town council gates.
Now my friends, forget me
and cruelly turn aside,
Those I love reject me,
so I wish I could die.
But,
I will believe forever, that my Redeemer lives,
He’ll stand upon the earth,
this, the promise that He gives.
He knows that I have followed, closely in His step,
I treasure all His Words, more than daily bread,
When He has done with testing,
I will shine forth as gold,
All of life’s decrees, I know that He will hold.

Darkness strikes my bones,
gnawing pain, that doesn’t rest,
Gone are the days, when others saw my best,
My life just ebbs away, suffering grips my soul,
But by God’s power, His clothing makes me whole,
To have one angel on my side,
to make everything all right,
One who can mediate and win, the never ending fight,
To be gracious unto me, spare me from the night,
He could be my ransom,
restore to me, the light.

The Lord spoke softly,
“Quiet Job, listen to Me now,
Who gives man his wisdom?
Where is the source of power?
See My creation, the heaven’s in their splendor,
I bring all things, I see all things,
the mighty to the tender.
Job cried, “How unworthy now I feel, to even speak to You.
I have no more to say. Do what You have to do.”
You have the victory, over all the evil foes,
You lasso, then tie his tongue and lead him by the nose.

Though he beg to You for mercy, to make a new contract,
He is Your slave, he lies beaten
forever kicking on his back.
You have harpooned and subdued him, with a mighty raid,
For though none has any claim to You,
with love, the price, You paid.
Oh Lord I cease my endless struggle,
in the glistening of Your wake,
I cannot stand before You,
the graceful form You take,
Fire darts from Your lips,
Your eyes glow as the dawn,
When You rise up, all men retreat,
their strength completely torn.

You look down on the haughty,
You’re over all the proud,
I believe You do all things.
To You I humbly bow.
I have spoken of things, too wonderful to know,
My eyes have seen, my ears have heard,
please make my faith to grow.
I’m but a little worm and repent in dust and ashes,
You so abundantly bless me,
when I deserve only of Your lashes,
Oh Lord, You love me so,
pouring grace into my heart,
You lift me up,
So now,
I know You more,
much more, than at the start.

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

The one with the experience
is not at the mercy of
the one with the argument
Anton Hofman

“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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