Widmayer Wellness LLC

Encouragement in Your Wellness Journey

Category Archives: Poetry

A Prayer

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Strengthen me, Lord; I am tired.

Strengthen me, Lord; I need rest.

Strengthen me, Lord; I’m your child.

Strengthen me, Lord. I am blessed.

 

Teach me, O Lord, how to love you.

Teach me, O Lord, how to pray.

Keep me, O Lord, in Your bosom.

Hold me, so I will not stray.

 

Hear me, O Lord, when I worship.

Hear me, O Lord, when I pray.

Hear me, O Lord, when I’m joyful.

Near you, O Lord, I will stay.

 

Yesterday’s gone now forever.

Tomorrow I never may know.

Today is the day that is promised.

I’ll rest in the Life-giving flow.

 

Jesus, the Lord, is my Savior.

Jesus, the Lord, is my Friend.

Jesus will love me forever.

Eternity means, there’s no end.

The Colors of Christmas [redux]

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Into a dark and sin-filled world

A blessed babe was born.

To rescue men with blackened hearts

He came that Christmas morn.

A promised King, at last arrived,

His parents tired and worn.

No one to welcome their new Son,

With Kingly robes adorn.

How could all men with cold, black hearts

Display contempt and scorn?

For the One who came to offer them

New life in Him, reborn.

 

He hung upon a cross to die,

Forsaken and forlorn.

To bear my sins and on Himself

He took my shame and scorn.

Blood of red spilled from His side.

He like a sheep was shorn—

Stripped and beaten, nailed and mocked.

His crown, a crown of thorns.

“Abba, Father,” was His cry;

His Mother, nearby, mourned.

And from the temple came the sound.

The veil, at last, was torn!

 

Ring out the bells, sing out the news,

Let heralds sound their horns!

A promised King, at last, arrived;

A blessed babe is born.

And now, He does, with robes of white

The righteous ones adorn.

To all who come and humbly bow,

To all who’ve been reborn—

Rejoice in Him. Sing out your praise.

Let Him, your life, adorn!

And celebrate the birth of Christ

This year on Christmas morn.

The Rest of the Christmas Story (Luke 2:25-35) [redux]

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Just a baby in a manger

Holy, precious heavenly child

Born in humble, poor surroundings.

First born Son so meek and mild.

Nearby shepherds hear the story

Told by angels, joyous news.

Born to you this day a Savior,

Resting now with cows and ewes.

Swaddling clothes, a sign of glory.

Angels sing, their voices raise.

Shepherds seek in haste to find Him,

Share the news and give God praise.

Mary ponders all their sayings,

Weighing thoughts within her heart.

Joseph’s quiet strength beside her,

Silent presence from the start.

Came the time for dedication.

Jesus was the baby’s name.

To Jerusalem they brought Him,

He, who’d later suffer shame.

Now there was a man named Simeon,

Righteous and devout was he,

Looking for the hope of Israel,

Promised death he would not see

‘Til the Christ, the Lord’s Anointed

Had been held within his arms.

And when Simeon held the baby,

At the moment safe from harm,

He revealed the Child’s appointed

Destiny—a Light to bring

Glory to God’s people Israel,

Salvation through a promised King.

Though an earthly King they looked for,

God had planned another way.

“And a sword will pierce your own soul,”

Mary heard old Simeon say.

And a prophetess named Anna

At the temple day and night

Offered thanks to God for Jesus,

Israel’s redemption now in sight.

Little baby, news so joyous.

The Messiah, promised King

In a manger, His life started

Born to reign, the angels sing.

But a coming shadow lingers

Prophets of His future told.

Destined death to save His people

To return them to the fold.

As we linger at the manger

Celebrating Jesus’ birth

Let us not forget the shadow

Of the cross—this baby’s worth.

Not to weep or moan in sadness

But to multiply our joy.

Saved by grace because He suffered—

Holy, precious baby boy.

Santa’s Reminder

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I had already scheduled to post all of my old Christmas poems because I hadn’t written a new one this year; and then, this morning, I was inspired to write this one.  Hopefully, you won’t feel poetry overload.  Merry Christmas to all my family, friends, and blog readers.

Santa’s Reminder

The workshop is empty.

The elves have gone home.

Mrs. Clause is resting.

Santa’s alone.

 

The tools are all quiet.

The floor is clean-swept.

The toys are delivered;

Yet, Santa’s bereft.

 

He’s tired and he’s weary.

His mind is confused,

Abstracted, bewildered,

Perplexed and bemused.

 

He worked through the year.

He did a good job;

And yet, at the moment,

He’s holding back sobs.

 

He wonders if working

So hard every year

Is worth all the effort,

And this is his fear.

 

That children and grown-ups

Alike will want more

And never be happy

With presents galore.

 

That come Christmas morning

When gifts are unwrapped,

The joy of the gifts

Will be gone in a snap!

 

Cause Santa knows true joy

The joy that can last

Comes from the One Who

Was born in the past.

 

On the morning of Christmas

In a manger He lay,

The Greatest Gift ever.

For our sins He would pay.

 

And then, in a moment

Santa heard very clear

A whisper, a voice that

Said, “Have no fear.

 

You’ve accomplished the task

That I’ve given to you,

And it’s time to move on

To a year that is New.

 

The gifts you’ve delivered

Came wrapped in your love

Like the Gift I delivered

That came from above.

 

We’ll patiently wait

For all people to see

That the Best Gift of all

Isn’t under the tree.

 

The True Gifts of Christmas

Are peace, love, and joy,

Which will reign in their hearts

When they first meet My Boy,

 

Who grew to a Man

And sacrificed all

To redeem all mankind

From the curse of the Fall.

 

And during this Season

The Message rings out

That Jesus is born.

There can be no doubt.”

 

And hearing the Message

Again in his heart,

Santa leaped from his seat

And he gave a great shout!

 

Joy flooded his soul

And he knew right away

His job wasn’t finished;

He’d start now, today!

 

With a heart that was happy

Santa pulled up a stool,

Grabbed his design book,

And got out his tools.

 

He started the planning

For gifts he could give.

This was his calling

As long as he lives.

 

As long as he could

He’d still do his part,

And leave it to God

To change men’s dark hearts

 

Now the workshop is empty,

Not a mouse makes a peep.

Santa’s retired

For a well-deserved sleep.

Colors

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Black was the color of sinful hearts.

Black was the midnight sky.

Into the darkness, a Light did appear

In the form of a baby’s cry.

Red was the blood the Light did shed

Men’s blackened hearts to buy.

Into His side the spear was thrust.

“Abba, Father,” was His cry.

White are the robes of the redeemed

And the angels sing on high,

When sinners bow with humble hearts,

And “Jesus” is their sigh.

Gold are the streets in heaven above

Where the King does reign on high.

Look up with hope. Christ will return

For the Church, His spotless bride!

The Evergreen [redux]

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I came upon an Evergreen
Its branches stark and bare.
Its edges sharp and prickly,
Poking out everywhere.
Its trunk somewhat misshapen;
Its needles parched and pale
Its roots all bound and withered
Neither hearty, whole, nor hale.
Fading, failing, lifeless
Without love or care.
I took it home to love it,
An opportunity rare.

I propped it in a bucket
And helped it stand upright.
Its branches scraped and bit me;
It put up quite a fight.
A strong and firm foundation
Was needed at the base,
To help rebuild its shape and form—
To bring it back to grace.
I warmed it and I fed it;
I watered it and more,
I offered it my time and help
So it could be restored.

It slowly started trusting.
Letting down its guard.
But next I had to prune it;
A task that proved quite hard.
Branches required trimming
To even out its look—
Snipping, clipping, cutting
All of these it took.
It cried and pleaded, “Stop it.”
But boldly I kept on.
I knew exactly where to cut
Each part, each branch, each frond.

But finally I was finished
With the hard but needful task.
The time had come to lavish love
And let my new tree bask
In love and care and nourishment
And all things being new.
The time had come to bestow gifts,
Many, not a few.
To restore the radiant beauty
That’s lost without the Source.
Without the Giver of the Life
The tree wandered off course.

So I opened up my treasures
And began to trim my tree
To show the world my love for him
To make him glow for me.
I started with some garland
Gold and twinkling bright.
I added light to help him shine
A beacon in the night.
Some ornaments of red and green,
Some beads of gossamer white,
And on the top an angel
To give him added height.

And then, The Lord, He whispered,
“You see what you have done?”
You’ve modeled what I’ve done for you
By giving you My Son.
My child, you are rooted
Grafted in the Vine;
You shine MY LIGHT through all the world
And let them know you’re mine.
Your tree will be a symbol
Of life restored, reborn
A reminder of the birth of Christ
That long ago Christmas morn.”

Test of Fire

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I placed my life before the King-
The tokens of my worth.
The pile reached high—so many things
Accomplished since my birth.
I looked around at other piles,
Some pitifully small,
And wondered at those offerings.
Were they worth anything at all?

My joy was overflowing;
I could not contain my mirth,
As I observed the wealth I’d gained,
While others suffered dearth.
The plaques for which I toiled and slaved,
The honors well deserved.
Then came my turn before the One
Who judges all the Earth.

I looked upon the Face of God,
Its brilliance pure and strong.
And suddenly, deep in my heart,
The gifts I’d brought felt wrong.
These were but vain and selfish gifts.
My anguish stole my song.
What did I have to offer Him,
To Whom all things belong?

I watched the flames, the Test of Fire,
And knew within my heart
Before the test was even through
That I had not been smart.
No second chance was offered
To work and do my part—
To tell the world of Christ’s great love,
No chance for a fresh start.

For God created every one
As part of His design
To do His work, to work His plan
With purpose most divine.
He created me a vessel
To spread His love abroad,
And now my heart had been revealed
As hypocrite and fraud.

Be ready for the Test of Fire.
The Test will come to all.
One life to live, to work His will
To hear His special call.
To share His love to all you meet
So God’s Redemptive plan
Is offered through a servant’s heart
To each and every man.

The Word is clear; the Plan is plain,
One Foundation strong and true.
Only what’s done for Christ will last,
To Him all honor is due.
The Fire will show; it will be known,
Presented in plain view
The genuine gifts of humble hearts,
The hearts that have been made new.

1 Corinthians 3:13 “The work of each [one] will become [plainly, openly] known [shown for what it is]; for the day [of Christ] will disclose and declare it, and the fire will test and critically appraise the character and worth of the work each person has done.”