With two hands helping her she sits in her pew,
White gloved hands placing a Bible in her lap.
She feebly reaches for a hymnbook,
But even this she cannot do,
Her Body says it's time for a nap.
With a little help and with trembling, withered
hands,
She turns to today's song.
She sings from her heart those life long loves,
And rejoices that it won't be too long.
After the service she shuffles to her spot,
To the missionary table to pay the little fees.
The little kids laugh at the things she brought,
But one asks, ''Have you seen her knees?''.
Joy builds in her heart as she nears her home,
And sees the new car in the drive.
Two grandsons all over the front yard do roam,
To call out their names she strives.
All afternoon she smiles and prays,
For the two little boys that she loves.
That one day maybe one would grow up,
To take the Good News while led by the Dove.
Her body is tired and desires to sleep,
The boys are still busy as bees.
She puts them to bed with, ''Now not a peep!''
But brother asks brother,
''Have you seen great-grandmas's knees?''
Dawn not yet come but she is up,
Taking her pills and juice and bread.
She goes to her room and shuts the door,
And falls to her knees near her bed.
No pain is felt as those knees hit the floor,
They've done it thousands of times.
For hours and hours just like before,
They stay there until 3 times the clock chimes.
Missions, family and friends prayed for,
She's given God her pleas.
Her Grandsons come in and quitely ask,
''Grandma, can we look at your knees?''
I wish you were here so that I could tell you,
That all of my flesh I've slain,
And to tell you that I'm going now,
Your prayers didn't go in vain.
You loved missions, and God has called me to
that,
I can see you rejoicing in Heaven's breeze.
No softening the ground with a simple prayer
mat,
Grandma, I want your knees.
******
This poem is about my great-grandma, Flo.
She prayed for hours every morning for missions
and like the poem says, I wish she was still
here
so I could let her know that God has called me
into missions. I wish I had her here
praying for me. I
hope that one day I can have her caloused knees
that
were always bent against the floor. I
don't know
maybe God already told her that I'm called.
She
doesn't have to pray anymore; she can sit in his
lap
and talk with Him face to face, and when I get
to
Heaven, I want to show her my caloused knees and
tell
her all about my mission trips and all about
the many people that were saved because she
prayed for me
when I was young.
In
The Stable
I am the Innkeeper who owned the Inn,
There was no room inside it, within,
I felt so sad, I had no more room
Except the stable which seemed to have gloom,
I offered the couple the only place that I had
Mary and Joseph went there, they were so glad,
For Mary was going to have a baby soon,
That night a brilliant star shone in the sky
with the moon,
We built a manger as best we could,
It was strong and sturdy and made of wood,
Clean hay was laid inside the manger
I didn't know Mary and Joseph, they were strangers,
But low and behold Baby Jesus arrived,
Then the Star shone even brighter in the sky,
It was humbling indeed to see the three of them,
Mary, Joseph, and Jesus in the stable, Amen
I heard a voice inside my heart one night, as I
lay in bed.
I thought it was from Heaven, as I heard a sweet
voice that said,
Come go with a Savior that willingly died for
you one day.
And I determined I would go with Him, all the
long, long way.
I can hear the voice inside me, sweeter than any
bird that sings
Telling me of His Holiness, and how blessing’s
He doth bring.
I thought of long ago, when I’d climb into my
bed, each night,
Just after I accepted Him to my heart, and I
knew it was right.
Come into my heart sweet Savior; always dwell
with me there.
I bow my head to Thee, sweet Lord, as I say unto
Thee a Prayer.
I'll trust Thee always and forever; I'll dream
dreams of Thee today,
Whilst Thou dear sweet Jesus, showeth me the
lighted way.
I dreamt I saw a teardrop a-falling, form Thy
precious face…
Let me never cause one tear Lord, only let me
come to Thy place.
Sweet Heaven Jesus, where loved ones have gone,
long before.
I want to see them again, my mother, and dad
upon Heaven’s shore.
I want to see all my people that have been
washed in Thy blood,
And already looking all over Heaven, and the
River of Life’s flood
I know it must be a mighty river, to flow
through Heaven’s gate.
Please await me sweet Jesus; I'm coming on; Thou
made it my fate.
If I were an artist, I'd find the richest hues
Of every color in the rainbow and other ones
too.
Must find the best canvas that money can buy
And set it on my easel and then I would try.
Where do I start, how can it be done?
To paint the love of God and His Son.
There have been many who have accolades
For their perception of how it's made.
But I know in my heart, it's not a reality
To capture all that Heaven holds for me.
How can man perceive the Glory of His Face?
And stroke the canvas full of His Amazing Grace.
There are not enough colors displayed in any
chart
To describe all the majestic qualities He
imparts.
Men of old would hide their faces in His
presence
Because of His most illuminating countenance.
Until we are called to join Him in our Heavenly
home
The greatness of all He possesses will never be
known
So do all you can to make your self ready to go,
Enjoy His presence in your heart, while you
await the show.
