Rod's Wildside Photography and Poetry

There’s been many a time at communion

That I’ve gazed at the bread and the wine.

So often in fact, that often I lack

To comprehend fully the sign

That these elements demonstrate to us,

The story they bring to our mind.

Of why they are used, so often abused,

Yet ignore it ? Yes we’re often  unkind.

I know we are there to remember,

The death of our Saviour, God’s Son.

Yet we get so familiar, it all seems so similar,

That the meaning is beyond us – undone.

It becomes to us second nature,

To receive the cup and the bread.

The fact He was killed, is our mind ever stilled?

No, we forget that He ever was dead.

I’m aware of my sin, there’s enough of it,

I’m reminded of it each time I pray.

It’s there in the Book, each time that I look,

That fact will I think, ever stay.

Yet the same book speaks of forgiveness,

That the price of sin has been met.

No more do I owe, I can now let it go,

For God has said He’ll forget.

 I gazed into the cup set before me,

Then a question I asked my dear Lord.

“Did you ever stop, to count every drop -

That that out of your body poured?

How many drops does it take Lord?

To wash away all of my sin?

I then felt a tear, as He spoke in my ear,

And such love overwhelmed me within.

I knew all that the Bible said about sin,

And that shedding of blood was required.

But the answer I got, that erased every spot,

Was nothing short of inspired.

I had pictured in my mind a river,

That at the least would be needed to stop

My journey to hell, I knew that so well,

Yet He said...No, just one drop!

One drop of my blood is sufficient,

To erase from your record, your sin.

I said, “That can’t be, I’m so black, you can see,

I’m filthy without, and within.

“Look no longer at what you have done or said.

 This all belongs in the past.

Fix your gaze upon me, as I hang from the tree.

That drop will eternity last.

So whenever the cup and the bread are served,

I can never again feel condemned.

What Christ has done, the victory He’s won,

Through the blood that was not stemmed.

Can I ever forget the word that He spoke?

That forced my doubts to stop.

That one single act, an indisputable fact,

The cleansing that came from one drop.

We went to town last week to do some bits and bobs.

Nothing in particular, although there was one job.

When we had a grandson we saved up our loose cash

And once in a while when there’s enough, to the bank we would dash.

We did the same this Saturday, and as we stood in line

A thought dropped into my head, that there would come a time

When Zach would be quite old enough to know he had a sum

That bit by bit had mounted up and then the time would come

When with his bank book in his hand he could draw some out

He didn’t have to worry, he didn’t have to doubt.

While too young to understand, or even be aware

Resources are building up from those who love and care.

It didn’t depend on what he did, the kind of boy he was

The money was simply there, I have to say, because

His Gran and Granddad love him just the way he is,

He didn’t have to earn it; the fact is it was his.

To do with as he wanted, to spend it in his own way

We wouldn’t dictate just where it went, we wouldn’t have a say.

So we’ll go on saving, until the time is right

And when we hand it over we’ll share in his delight.

This got me kind of thinking how just like life is this?

A truth that stares us in the face, and yet can so easily miss.

That in our name a bank account is there in time of need,

To draw upon, to benefit, if the truth of God we heed.

He says to me in weakness, His strength will make me strong.

When I mess up, do stupid things, do something that is wrong,

For me there is forgiveness, a massive stash of grace,

But I must go and draw it out, if the future I will face.

The Father put a huge sum of credit in sending us His Son 

It seems so sad to waste it, with all that He has done.

When next you go into a bank to draw some money out

Remember all that Fathers done, you never need to doubt.

If in any way you lack, in spirit or in soul

It need not forever stay that way; He wants to make you whole.

You may not realise in Him how rich you really are.

It’s something that’s not measured by size of house or car.

It’s also not dependant on how much is in the bank

As a son or daughter of the King it is how high you rank.

If Father owns the cattle upon a thousand hills

Then all is at His disposal, and can give it as He wills.

So never think you’re wanting, or a need that goes unmet

 In life it’s not long ere you discover

There are mountains and valleys and hills,

The going is seldom on even ground,

But a struggle with feelings and wills.

We long for a time when things level out,

And the mountains reduce to a plain,

Or the summit is reached and the climb is behind,

Along with the tears and the pain.

Yet the Lord says” Look not to the mountain,

For it’s awesome, frightening and bare,

Turn your eyes up to Me; I’m greater you’ll see,

Than the obstacle standing there.

My promise to you is not for a walk

Which is easy, and smooth and wide.

But the path that you take is narrow and steep

With room just for Me by your side.

Yet we travel that path together,

For I am the guide of your life.

And the hope that We share, is when We reach there

No more will you know such strife

Don’t be dismayed by the valleys,

With sides that are dark and steep.

Don’t be concerned and feel all hemmed in,

For haven’t I promised to keep

Your footsteps beside still waters,

Your eyes on pastures green,

For on mountain tops high, which reach to the sky,

Such plenty is never seen”.

For a valley is always a place where we grow,

Life is evident, fresh and new.

It’s a place that is watered by springs and rain,

 And the daily anointing of dew.

The valley’s a place of protection,

Sheltered from wind and storm,

A place of shade and shadow,

Yet I stay just to keep you warm.

It’s not a place to be dreaded,

Or a depth, which you don’t want to go,

For the food is sweet, if you stop to eat.

And My Presence you’ll surely know

There are words in our language that are hard to pronounce
There are some which are harder to spell
And some so familiar they roll off the tongue
Words that we know so well

We have words that describe the way that we feel
To explain just the person we are.
Phrases sum up our opinion of folk,
That express to them that we care.

Descriptions are used to tell of a scene
That we visited when abroad.
We excitedly tell of a bargain we had
Buying something we could afford

Then we give reasons of why we did this,
Or our actions, caused us to do that.
It might be a jumper we liked the look of,
Or for a wedding we purchased a hat.

Can we remember a day go by
When never a word that we spoke?
Silence for us is unnatural and strange,
For we're generally socially folk.

Yet sometimes we hear of people we know
Who have fallen out with each other.
It's sometimes between brothers and sisters -
Or worse, between father and mother.

Some words were spoken that cut to the quick,
That once uttered could not be retrieved.
A rift was created, an unbridgable gap
At least that's the lie they believed.

Years go by not a word was spoken
The distance between them grows
In fact it is possible so long has time past
If you ask, nobody knows -

The reason behind the silence
Why one does not speak to the other
The matter could so easily be solved
But nobody seems to bother.

As I said at the start we have different words
Some seem so hard to tell
But it isn't always the length of the words
Or the fact that we cannot spell.

There comes a time when we refuse to admit
That we are in the wrong
We only need to speak two words
Yet it seems to take so long.

You see, those two little words are the hardest two words
And by some are never spoken
And because these two words are the hardest two words
Many relationships remain broken.

What are those two words? the hardest two words?
Do we really need to worry?
Well yes, we do, for those two little words
Are just simply "I'm sorry".