Truth

7 Comments

Poem Commentary

This poem woke me up one Sunday morning when I felt like I was being chastised by God.  He used this to let me know that what was happening to me was not a judgement on the things I had done, but simply a way for Him to get me to come closer.

God is good all the time!

Truth

"I understand", the pupil said,
As she sat at the feet of God.
"I know all the things I have done
To earn chastisement with the rod".

God smiled at her patiently
As she began to recite
The many things she had done
That she knew were just not right.

She smiled widely as she ended.
She had borne her sins to the cross,
But God had not agreed with her.
She sat there, completely lost.

God spoke as she sat silent.
"I waited until you stopped".
She gave Him a puzzled look,
And into His lap she plopped.

God began to tell the girl,
As He called her His own dove
She's confessed her sins before.
She was not chastened, but loved.

Poem Comments

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jeanpnkldyg commented on Truth

06-27-2010

This is a place many have been before - it is my hope to see more of your work!

Mrpoetry commented on Truth

06-17-2010

awesome poem......................................................

Chaos128 commented on Truth

11-03-2009

A very feel good piece of work, W, I like it alot. It reminds me of a poem by James Leigh Hunt, titled, "Abou Ben Adhem". It was my mother's favorite.

waitingonGod

11/04/2009

Thank you for the wonderful comment! It is always nice to be appreciated.

Merlyn commented on Truth

10-17-2009

This poem brought tears of Joy to my eyes. So do I feel what you are saying. He is so Wonderful. Thank you for coming to this site.

waitingonGod

10/19/2009

Thank you for reading my poem. It makes me happy to be able to stike a cord with other believers. :)

refinedgold17 commented on Truth

10-14-2009

This poem trully shows the love and forgiveness of our Father above. I loved how you made this poem so theatrical, very nice.

waitingonGod

10/15/2009

Thanks for your comment. I'm glad you enjoyed the poem!

Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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