A Poem of God's Provision

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When the birds begin to worry
And the lilies toil and spin,
And God's creatures all are anxious,
Then I also may begin.


For my Father sets their table,
Decks them out in garments fine,
And if He supplies their living,
Will he not provide for mine?


Just as noisy common sparrows
Can be found most anywhere--
Unto some just worthless creatures,
If they perish who would care?


Yet our Heavenly Father numbers
Every creature great and small,
Caring even for the sparrows,
Marking when to earth they fall.


If His children's hairs are numbered,
Why should we be filled with fear?
He has promised all that's needful,
And in trouble to be near.


--Unknown


My Turn...

When the staph infection scabs up

all the skin upon my face,

And I'm tempted to start whining

about depression and disgrace.

My dreams they come in and go now,

Do they matter anymore?

And I pine to travel anywhere,

Far from my Southern door.

Then I get a friendly text, an e-mail, or a call,

A post-marked letter in the mail shows me I'm wrong about it all.

God shows His love through people, through blessings and coffee,

Through thunderous rains that fall outside my home and do not fall on me.

So though my jammed thumb really smarts,

I will try my best to not complain,

For God Himself has provided the ice,

That takes away the pain.

--  In Him,

      Jean-Marc

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