The poem below was one of the first poems I ever wrote after I became a Christian. It is lengthy and parts of it may seem a little naive, but it is contains lessons learned along the way in life. I wrote this about three years and 11 months after Jesus saved me.
November 15, 1977
For thirty one years I couldn't see,
The truth of Christianity,
Because my sin had kept me blind,
It really never crossed my mind.
A list of sins could only show,
How very little I did know,
About the Christ of Calvary,
Who gave his life to set me free.
But, praise his name, my vision cleared,
And in him I no longer feared,
The dread unknown that gave me fright,
Before he made my darkness light.
At first I was so overjoyed,
That every sense was there employed,
In awestruck wonder at the change,
My Lord had seen fit to arrange.
Expressionless, I could not find,
The words to share my state of mind,
So clean, so sure of peace at last,
It happened O' so very fast.
I wanted all the world to see,
The Christ who made the change in me,
I knew that I would just explode,
If everybody wasn't told.
The days and weeks and months went on,
And not an ounce of zeal seemed gone,
But slowly I was brought to see,
Some very harsh reality.
Not everyone was overjoyed,
And many really got annoyed,
When I stood up with radiant grin,
And told how he had cleansed my sin.
They cursed and mocked his holy name,
And some would even put the blame,
On God for all their misery,
They too were blind and couldn't see.
How sad, I thought, to watch them die,
My burdened heart began to sigh,
And cry to God to understand,
The power of sin on every man.
And then, amazed, I felt the pain,
As truth struck deeply once again,
And I saw sin in Christians too,
The ones who had been born anew.
"Why aren't they perfect?" my heart cried,
These ones for whom my Savior died,
How can they care so little for,
The Lord they all claim to adore?
My pride had blinded me so much,
I evidently had lost touch,
With simple truth; we were yet men,
And sinful yet; though born again.
Praise God for men who had prevailed,
And lived to tell me how they failed,
And then forgiven, fell again,
Yet God had cleansed from every sin.
Who took the time to clarify,
That our sin nature didn't die,
And that much struggle would ensue,
Before this earthly life was through.
In love, they showed my pride to me,
Praise God for their sweet honesty,
Against which I rebelled those years,
And wept so many needless tears.
Praise God! Praise God! O' bless his name,
For those whose life has but one aim,
To build true soldiers of the King,
And gladly give up everything.
Who count all things but dung to win,
This precious Lord who frees from sin,
And only long that others too,
Might come to love him as they do.
How Wonderful! I've been set free,
Again as when he first touched me,
And now I have begun to see,
Small bits of Christianity.
I see the need for change each day,
For all who walk this narrow way,
And how we're fooled so easily,
By what we think and what we see.
In multitudes of thought and word,
One message clearly can be heard,
"Surrender all ------Surrender all!
Hold nothing back, for he does call.
For full control in everything,
As Master, Savior, Lord and King,
For he alone can mold and bend,
Our Christian lives for us, my friend.
There is a certain way to grow,
And many things that we can know,
For God's own word will make them clear,
To all of those who wish to hear.
Just read and pray and fellowship,
And let the Spirit get a grip,
Upon your thoughts and on your heart,
Beseech him never to depart.
Become a witness every day,
In everything you do and say,
Avoid such things as cause you strife,
And seek to live a Christ-like life.
Let none persuade you from his way,
No matter what they do or say,
For fiery graves do surely wait,
All who let Satan seal their fate.
Temptations, trials ------- whatever be,
Cling to our Lord tenaciously,
Stand firm! Keep drawing ever near,
Until your life is finished here.
And when you reach his rest at last,
And all tumultuous times are past,
You'll gaze at him and clearly see,
The truth of Christianity.
C. R. Lord © 2007