The Children's Hour by Henry Longfellow

The Children's Hour by Henry Longfellow

Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupations,
That is known as the Children's Hour.

I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.

From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.

A whisper, and then a silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.

A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!

They climb up into my turret
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere.

They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!

Do you think, o blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all!

I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away!

Patient Trust by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, SJ

Above all, trust in the slow work of God
We are quite naturally impatient in everything
to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something
unknown, something new.
And yet it is the law of all progress
that it is made by passing through
some stages of instability-
and that it may take a very long time

And so I think it is with you.
your ideas mature gradually-let them grow
let them shape themselves, without undue hast.
Don’t try to force them on,
as though you could be today what time
(that is to say, grace and circumstances
acting on your own good will)
will make of you tomorrow
Only God could say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.
Give Our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.

http://www.teilharddechardin.org/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pierre_Teilhard_de_Chardin

(Karen sent this poem to me.)

Write Every Letter Of Your Law On My Heart - by Landon Lewis

Write Every Letter Of Your Law On My Heart

Write every letter of your law on my heart
That I may always have the highest regard
For every word that does proceed from your mouth
In all matters large and small, simple and hard.

Remove every desire and inclination
To coerce what is written to bow the knee
Before my feelings and presuppositions
For comfort’s sake or to justify my deeds.

Bestow the passion, courage, and endurance
Needed to stay firmly entrenched in your word
When apprehensive, ridden, heavy-laden
And assailed with speech or stone by friend or foe.

And generate a wellspring of compassion
As a complement to the steely resolve
That I may image forth your son’s perfect love:
Never harsh, never shifty, never dissolved.

Scripture Inspiration: Jeremiah 31:33-34, Deuteronomy 8:3, & Ezekiel 11:19-20

By Landon Lewis

Broken Dreams Poem...

As children bring
their broken toys
with tears for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams
to God
because He was my friend!

But then instead
of leaving Him
in peace to work alone,
I hung around
and tried to help
with ways
that were my own.

At last I snatched them back
and cried,
"How can you be so slow?"
"My child," He said
"What could I do?
You never did let go."

-- Author Unknown

“Beauty in my arms”

I watch as the leaves flew up;
I smiled and chased the flury,
Following the path of disheveled leaves.
In a moment, all fell still . . . silence. . .
There she was waiting,
I held her in my arms and we danced . . .

And now I look into her eyes,
She just smiled at me.
How could I have imagined how much our love would grow,
And how much more beautiful she would become?
She is in the distance helping a child,
But we are saying so much to each other without words.
We dance together, as we serve the Lord,
And now when I hold her in my arms . . . it is more.

Adaptation of an earlier poem

There she stood clothed, yet naked
Before Him who looked into her
heart.
Fire and judgment stirred relentlessly
And searched . . .


She looked into His eyes and saw
severity
He did not penetrate her heart purposelessly
But was determined


She could no longer stand and fell . . .


His arms wrapped around her and
He held her close
“My child, my child, come close”


She looked into His eyes once again
And was consumed by His love.
And, and . . .
Amazed by the beauty He saw.
And yet His gaze had not changed.

Mud in her toes

She ran through the leaves
Feeling the mud in her bare little toes,
A little hanging on the eaves of her dress.
She laughed as the rain soaked her curls.
She hopped and skipped, and did a little dance.

Her dad who once saw only rain,
Gray and gloom,
Lost sight of anything else,
But the sweet smile of his princess.
He was no longer soaked,
No longer drenched.
“My little beautiful princess,
May I have this dance.”
A giggle and a courtesy, "yes"

Holding her close
He asked,
"Aren’t you afraid of the rain."
“No, papa, God made the rain”
She giggled,
“And you’re with me, so I know I’ll be safe.”

The Little Tree

In a sun scorched land far away,
There were trees, little trees
Withered, sprangly, and dearth.
There were no big trees in this earth.
You see, the rain did not come nor did the rivers run free.
Only Desert was as far as one could see.
Some plants strived with all their strength and might to grow,
Others gave up and their limbs had a bow.
You could hear others complain, wine, or beg.
“Woe is me as anyone could see.”
But whether they strived, quit, or wined
None grew any more than the other, they were all in a bind.
They were all withered, sprangly, and dearth



One day a farmer came
He took one of the trees
So withered, sprangly, and dearth.
Which one I don’t know
For they all looked the same.
And so He took the plant gently away
Delivering it from its woe
And brought it to a meadow
And placed it near a stream
It was a place of beauty,
Where the sun would beam,
And sweetly down, the rain would come.
In this place, this little tree,
Though withered, sprangly, and dearth,
Grew roots that went deep and deep into the earth.
It grew and grew,
And was not little any more.
And season after season much fruit did it bore.

This little tree became strong,
And though it was once withered
Its leaf withered no more.

Birthday Wish

What do you do when you are told that God has said, “no” to what you want most?




I heard this story of a man who was engaged to be married. He had the life he dreamed of, but he risked it all to help a slave escape to freedom. For this, he was put away in prison for five years. His fiancé faithfully waited those five years. When he was released from prison after those five years, he immediately went and helped another slave gain their freedom and was caught again. He was put in prison for another fifteen years. Another man was put into prison for not denying the gospel. He was taken away from his beloved and his children. His daughter was blind and he did not know how his family would be provided for. He longed to be there for his family, but he could not deny the gospel. Another man was engaged when he came to Christ. He knew that he could not marry his betrothed if she did not know Christ so he talked with her and shared with her the gospel. She became a believer. The country was Muslim so to become a Christian meant severe consequences, so they agreed to escape and be married. She never showed up at the meeting place. Her family found out that she had become a Christian and gave her to a Muslim man to be his wife. He would never see her again.


As my birthday nears, I have been thinking about the desires of my heart. If I were to ask God for a birthday present, what would I ask for? I have desires that are so deeply rooted in my heart and that I long for so intensely that I cry out to God, “It is only by Your mercy and grace that I could survive if these were taken away.” I know I could look at my desires. I could ask God to give me the desires of my heart, but I know that that is not a real prayer. I am not asking him to do that. Instead I am asking him to make me more dependent on Him, to trust Him more. To hold on to that treasure that is deeper than the things of this world. To hear His voice. To hold fast and to cling to Him, who is my life.



Off to the English Civil War

Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind
That from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind
To warlike arms I fly.

True, a new mistress now I serve
The first foe in the field
And with a sterner faith embrace
The sword, a horse, a shield.

Yet this inconstancy is such
As thou too shalt adore.
I could not love thee, dear, so much
Loved I not honor more.

---- Richard Lovelace


I must love God more than the desires of my heart, or I don't have anything. All is loss compared to him. Abba, I pray that you set this truth deep in the roots of my heart, and may my heart be dependent on Thee. Command what Thou wilst, and grant what Thou commandest. My heart is Yours, my Lord.

Written as a young lad

ROCKING CHAIR

The chair
Sits in the open cob webbed space
Set alight by the pale moon
As the pale light crashes through the oval window
The vines
Winding up the empty chair
With the silent sound
Of rocking in the midnight’s dark
Pale and olden days have set their tale
The time checked by its pendulum sound

Written March 2005

The waves crashed
The thunder roared
Unabashed the lightning seared the sky
The billows soaring
Wind writhing

This was a wonderful time
For the little girl in her Father’s arms
As He held her close
His voice gently speaking to her

That day they had seen the sun rise and set,
Built castles and sought the treasures of the deep
They danced and walked, laughing
As they explored the tide

As He held her in the storm
His eyes sparkled as He talked
And told her of the beauty around her
Her knowing all the while His delight was in her.

Written 2003

There she stood clothed, yet naked
Before Him who looked into her
heart.
Fire and judgment stirred relentlessly
-----And searched . . .

She looked into His eyes and saw
-----severity
He did not penetrate her heart purposelessly
-----But was determined

She could no longer stand and fell . . .

His arms wrapped around her and
-----He held her close
“My child, my child, come close”

She looked into His eyes once again
-----And was consumed by His love.
And yet His gaze had not changed.

Written Tuesday. November 2, 2003


When I was a child, my father
----Took me to the beach at sunrise;
We sat in silence and listened to the wind.
It was grand it was beautiful.

Soon my father took me to the shoreline
----I loved the waves lapping at my feet,
----And the sand coming in between my toes
The waves were exciting and thrilling.

My Father grabbed my hand and held me close,
He gave me a hug,
----Then rushed me into the ocean.
----We played
----We splashed
----We swam
----We had fun and adventure.
And when I looked at my fathers face,
----He was more excited than I

We came out on to the beach
We filled our curiosity with looking for seashore shells
----And our imagination with sea faring stories
----And sand castles
Oh! And we raced bare foot in the sand
----And wrestled till we had sand in our hair.
I did not want to leave.

Before I knew it,
My father took me out to sea, in the midst of a hurricane
It was terrible. Fear struck through me
----And I trembled in terror
I was afraid. The storm had such strength and power.
It was mighty.
I cried out, “Father why”
He did not speak

He swept me off my feet and took me to the depths,
This took some time, there was more there
----Than I could possibly have imagined.
We explored the coral reefs,
----We followed the path of the whales,
----We played with dolphins
----We explored mountains
----Saw wonders
----He allowed me to explore and fill my curiosity
And taught me many things

He took me out in a boat, it was silent
I looked around at the vastness of the oceans,
Tears came to my eyes, for it was so very wonderful.
My father sat beside me there and taught me
----The way of the wind,
----And said, “Son, count the stars,”
----Then he smiled, “I know them all by name”
We talked and talked till I knew his heart.

“Son”
“Yes, father"
“Know the vastness and depth of my love”

Poem written December 2003

I heard the thunder of the gates as they closed and
The heaviness of the chains as they were wrapped around and locked.
All light fled, and no whispers of comfort came.
Mire and heaviness engulfed me, as I waited helpless.
I cried out for help, silence
And so I stayed on my knees waiting.
My captors would cry out, “Where is your Hope? He will not deliver you.”
I said, I will not lose my trust, in the Living One,
He will deliver me in His love, for His name’s sake.
I will put my trust in Him, though the darkness hides me,
Though I cannot see His face.
He will not hide from me forever.
He is my strength.
Oh! Is He not mighty and His love grand.
He will come and make war on my enemies.
He will deliver me and turn my sorrow into joy.
He will give me a new song, and will teach me to dance.
He will teach me to war, and my enemies will flee.
He will give me hands and words to heal the wounded and afflicted,
And hearts will see and turn to Him.
He will bless my fields and they will produce abundant wheat and fruit.
He will be near.
Oh! My enemies, though my Help looks far off,
He is near, He is with me.
And even in my greatest sorrow, He is my comfort.
And I will praise Him with all my heart.
Oh! How great is His joy at all times.
I will not be ashamed, no, for I trust in Him.
I hear His thunder now.