Yet what does that mean?

For each day I glean,

But not for wheat.

It seems

Abundant life has torn

Off and left me worn

Trying to retrace

The path my Savior trod.

This way I crave,

Yet He already gave.

He walked this sod,

And now can nod

Though I daily fall

He hears my call.

He leads me moment

By moment

To Himself and He

Never puts me on a shelf.

But He extends His hand,

And promises a land

Where no heartache

May start to break.

So when you’re weary

And so very worn

Of eyes so teary,

And hearts so torn

When broken from trials

Here not able to be spoken,

Just remember

That this November,

We are only strangers here

For a short while,

Until that day we’ll smile,

When He’ll wipe away all sorrow

For time here we merely borrow.

Perhaps life abundant is simply this:

Taking His hand

And following His plan,

Stepping with His feet

Until we meet

In Him Complete

In that promised land.

-December 14th, 2014

Written by Kristen Michelle Langner a sequel to A Christmas Poem

 

Naomi
Latest posts by Naomi (see all)
Abundant Life: a poem
Tagged on:     

2 thoughts on “Abundant Life: a poem”

Comments are closed.