A New Gift
By Larry R. Linville
I recently opened a great gift.
Opened at a most surprising time.
Was I to celebrate it and jump for joy
Or would it last for vanish quickly
And break
Like so many of the favorite gifts in my life?
This gift gave a self-expression
To put down in words
The deepest feelings
That resided in my heart.
Prose has been my most trusty tool
As I have birthed sermons for many long years.
Poetry was just a game for rare fun
And usually began with “Roses are red.”
I’ve tried
Yes, the Lord knows I’ve tried
To find the right words
To get from the depth of my innermost parts
An expression that could say what a sermon never could.
When I look to past writings
I now see a slight hint
That the talent was there all along.
But it took this new gift
To open it up and let it flow.
I no longer sit down with a plain paper sheet
And make myself labor for words.
After opening this gift
I find that the words are there
Calling me to find the page
On which they will take final residence.
From my heart to my head
A picture takes flight
And appears in my minds eye
And forms itself upon the page
As I, filled with awe,
Watch to see what God has done
Through me.
May each of us,
Whether poet or not,
Open the gift that God gives
And allow God to reach out to the world
By the way God helps us to live.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
The Many Mentors
The Many Mentors
By Larry R. Linville
God called me to ministry but not just me alone
Alone – I’m not enough
Alone – I will surely fail.
God put people there to help see me through.
Education is a good beginning we all need to go to school.
School alone is not enough.
Who is the Jesus in my day to train me?
The preacher I have become and becoming still
Is so much more than what God started with.
The preachers I have listened to since I was very young
Have found their way in my life and I didn’t realize it.
“You know, you sing like Brother Rollens!” she said to me.
I admired the man but how could that be?
Earl guided me through my first two funerals
He shared his method and then I watched
As he spoke words of comfort it seemed to exude from his face and more.
One by one God sent a line of committed pastors
To touch my life in special ways
More than content
It was as if they became of part of me and my call.
Such a great cloud of witnesses in my life.
Although I’m always learning and growing
I’ve become aware of this cloud
It is all over and around me.
But it didn’t stop right there.
With this mixture of those who touched my call
I was placed in situations to pass this special cloud on.
Just as I was not aware of those who were a part of me
I also didn’t know whose lives would be touched
By that which I have become.
The cloud, the wonderful cloud was always there for me.
I was really unaware of it
Until I greeted a young seminary grad
Who heard my sermons when he was a lad.
As I wished him well, I suddenly knew
That those whose lives influenced me
wished him well too.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
By Larry R. Linville
God called me to ministry but not just me alone
Alone – I’m not enough
Alone – I will surely fail.
God put people there to help see me through.
Education is a good beginning we all need to go to school.
School alone is not enough.
Who is the Jesus in my day to train me?
The preacher I have become and becoming still
Is so much more than what God started with.
The preachers I have listened to since I was very young
Have found their way in my life and I didn’t realize it.
“You know, you sing like Brother Rollens!” she said to me.
I admired the man but how could that be?
Earl guided me through my first two funerals
He shared his method and then I watched
As he spoke words of comfort it seemed to exude from his face and more.
One by one God sent a line of committed pastors
To touch my life in special ways
More than content
It was as if they became of part of me and my call.
Such a great cloud of witnesses in my life.
Although I’m always learning and growing
I’ve become aware of this cloud
It is all over and around me.
But it didn’t stop right there.
With this mixture of those who touched my call
I was placed in situations to pass this special cloud on.
Just as I was not aware of those who were a part of me
I also didn’t know whose lives would be touched
By that which I have become.
The cloud, the wonderful cloud was always there for me.
I was really unaware of it
Until I greeted a young seminary grad
Who heard my sermons when he was a lad.
As I wished him well, I suddenly knew
That those whose lives influenced me
wished him well too.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Popping The Question
Well -- let's have some fun! Don't read ahead. This one has a surprise ending and I hope you get a chuckle.
Popping The Question
By Larry Linville
They had dated for years.
She knew it was love.
Her ears were itching to hear –
Those six little words
“Will you marry me – my dear?”
“Will you marry me?”
She hoped to hear each day.
She knew he was close –
But the words never came.
Something always got in the way.
She led conversations about things to come.
Of children and family and house.
But each attempt to help him ask
Was like trying to catch a wild mouse.
She tried every setting her mind could create
But the setting was never just right.
He avoided her lead or the cell phone would ring
And it was over for that night.
This night she had perfect plans in place
She began with a big chocolate cake.
She served all his favorite foods
Just like his mother would make.
The CD was programmed with those gushy songs
Of love and commitment and hope.
This time it will work, she knew it down deep.
She thought she could tighten the rope.
His eyes looked so different than she’d ever seen.
As he knelt down right there by the door.
It was so sweet how he didn’t look up
He looked humble as he stared at the floor.
This is it! Her pounding heart told her mind.
Her skin was alive and her heart skipped a beat.
He looked up and stared into her eyes
And began to utter words which she knew she’d repeat.
“Can you help me find my contacts?”
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Popping The Question
By Larry Linville
They had dated for years.
She knew it was love.
Her ears were itching to hear –
Those six little words
“Will you marry me – my dear?”
“Will you marry me?”
She hoped to hear each day.
She knew he was close –
But the words never came.
Something always got in the way.
She led conversations about things to come.
Of children and family and house.
But each attempt to help him ask
Was like trying to catch a wild mouse.
She tried every setting her mind could create
But the setting was never just right.
He avoided her lead or the cell phone would ring
And it was over for that night.
This night she had perfect plans in place
She began with a big chocolate cake.
She served all his favorite foods
Just like his mother would make.
The CD was programmed with those gushy songs
Of love and commitment and hope.
This time it will work, she knew it down deep.
She thought she could tighten the rope.
His eyes looked so different than she’d ever seen.
As he knelt down right there by the door.
It was so sweet how he didn’t look up
He looked humble as he stared at the floor.
This is it! Her pounding heart told her mind.
Her skin was alive and her heart skipped a beat.
He looked up and stared into her eyes
And began to utter words which she knew she’d repeat.
“Can you help me find my contacts?”
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Friday, April 27, 2007
You'll Have To Wait
You’ll Have To Wait
By Larry R. Linville
When I was a small boy
I could smell a chocolate cake in the oven.
When may I eat it? -- I asked.
Mother said, so matter of fact,
It’s not ready yet.
You’ll have to wait.
I wanted to go to school.
I had waited for 5 long years.
When can I go? – I pleaded my case.
You’re not old enough.
You’ll have to wait.
If I could only drive a car.
I could put my bike away.
I could get a part-time job.
You have to be sixteen.
You’ll have to wait.
I was writing a poem each day.
It gave me such a regular high.
Why have I missed a day or two?
That is something you cannot force.
You’ll have to wait.
Anything we do before the right time
Is usually forced and poorly done.
The greatest thing we can learn is
Let the idea develop.
You’ll have to wait.
The lesson of all this waiting
Comes from that winemaker’s ad.
I’ll write no poem before it’s time.
Until it’s ready.
I’ll have to wait.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
By Larry R. Linville
When I was a small boy
I could smell a chocolate cake in the oven.
When may I eat it? -- I asked.
Mother said, so matter of fact,
It’s not ready yet.
You’ll have to wait.
I wanted to go to school.
I had waited for 5 long years.
When can I go? – I pleaded my case.
You’re not old enough.
You’ll have to wait.
If I could only drive a car.
I could put my bike away.
I could get a part-time job.
You have to be sixteen.
You’ll have to wait.
I was writing a poem each day.
It gave me such a regular high.
Why have I missed a day or two?
That is something you cannot force.
You’ll have to wait.
Anything we do before the right time
Is usually forced and poorly done.
The greatest thing we can learn is
Let the idea develop.
You’ll have to wait.
The lesson of all this waiting
Comes from that winemaker’s ad.
I’ll write no poem before it’s time.
Until it’s ready.
I’ll have to wait.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Learning To Talk Right
People have such crazy ways of talking and they pass it on. Most of them drive me crazy. Let me share a little reflection on the way people talk today.
Learning to talk right
By Larry R. Linville
Isn’t that NEAT?
Oh, I’m sorry, nowadays it is COOL.
Things were COOL in beatnik days
And then they became NEAT.
Look at the FELLER over there.
Oh, you mean he’s a DUDE.
What do they call the city guys on a ranch?
How do I start a sentence these days?
You’re telling me I must begin with I MEAN?
I thought that was to explain what I said rather than a lead in.
I MEAN, I have something new to say.
Well, YOU KNOW.
If I knew, you wouldn’t have to tell me.
LIKE before I tell you what it’s like.
I’m not sure I’m getting this.
Just is a good word to include all the time, too.
I JUST want to thank you.
It’s not enough to want to thank you
I have to JUST want to thank you.
I must do this RIGHT NOW.
If I’m saying now, why do I have to tell you it is NOW?
So let me see if I got this right?
Like, I mean
You know
It just seems so cool
totally
To talk to that dude
Right now
Do I have it now?
EXACTLY.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Learning to talk right
By Larry R. Linville
Isn’t that NEAT?
Oh, I’m sorry, nowadays it is COOL.
Things were COOL in beatnik days
And then they became NEAT.
Look at the FELLER over there.
Oh, you mean he’s a DUDE.
What do they call the city guys on a ranch?
How do I start a sentence these days?
You’re telling me I must begin with I MEAN?
I thought that was to explain what I said rather than a lead in.
I MEAN, I have something new to say.
Well, YOU KNOW.
If I knew, you wouldn’t have to tell me.
LIKE before I tell you what it’s like.
I’m not sure I’m getting this.
Just is a good word to include all the time, too.
I JUST want to thank you.
It’s not enough to want to thank you
I have to JUST want to thank you.
I must do this RIGHT NOW.
If I’m saying now, why do I have to tell you it is NOW?
So let me see if I got this right?
Like, I mean
You know
It just seems so cool
totally
To talk to that dude
Right now
Do I have it now?
EXACTLY.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Poem In My Pocket
April is poetry month. As it comes to an end we have a special day coming. Monday, April 30th is "Poem in My Pocket" day. It started in New York and is spreading. It's my understanding that Mayors at Liberty as well as Kansas City have signed proclamations to observe this day.
I find it strange that April has been such an important to me in my poetry development. I have had such a great time. You have had the chance to read many of my poem in this blog and there will be many more.
Will you join me on Monday to be sure you have a poem in your pocket? If you don't have a poem, I welcome you to print one of mine and carry it with you.
I find it strange that April has been such an important to me in my poetry development. I have had such a great time. You have had the chance to read many of my poem in this blog and there will be many more.
Will you join me on Monday to be sure you have a poem in your pocket? If you don't have a poem, I welcome you to print one of mine and carry it with you.
Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star
Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star
By Larry R. Linville
Twinkle, twinkle, little star
I don’t know your name
Do you live in a constellation?
Among all the stars in the sky you have my attention.
I’m sure there are scientists who have studied you
And perhaps they gave you a name
Or maybe you’re just a nobody
As far as stars go.
Were you just a bright and twinkling star
When a man saw you from his cave?
Did the Magi get a look at you
As they followed the Bethlehem star?
So many great men and women
Have gazed into the sky.
Did they take the time to notice you?
Why have you caught my attention this night?
Are you giving a message for me?
Could it be that you’re trying to tell me
To be aware of the small things in my life?
I may never see you again
Or least I may not know where to look.
But for this small moment
You have reminded me of God’s vast creation.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
By Larry R. Linville
Twinkle, twinkle, little star
I don’t know your name
Do you live in a constellation?
Among all the stars in the sky you have my attention.
I’m sure there are scientists who have studied you
And perhaps they gave you a name
Or maybe you’re just a nobody
As far as stars go.
Were you just a bright and twinkling star
When a man saw you from his cave?
Did the Magi get a look at you
As they followed the Bethlehem star?
So many great men and women
Have gazed into the sky.
Did they take the time to notice you?
Why have you caught my attention this night?
Are you giving a message for me?
Could it be that you’re trying to tell me
To be aware of the small things in my life?
I may never see you again
Or least I may not know where to look.
But for this small moment
You have reminded me of God’s vast creation.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Tabitha, Arise
I have just finished working on a poem to use with the sermon this coming Sunday. You may wish to read Acts 9:36-43 as a background.
Tabitha, Arise
By Larry Linville
Tabitha, Arise
Open your eyes!
You’ve had your rest
From doing what is best.
Takes these needles and thread
For women who need to be led.
Now that you’re alive
You’ll help others survive.
The church leaders left them out
But you will help them, no doubt.
You’re following Jesus – it is true
We see him working through you.
As ages pass you’re alive today
In the hearts of people as they pray.
As they look around and take heed
To locate people who are in need.
As long as people do as you did
And not keep their lighted candle hid.
Your passion will echo throughout the land
Where the serving of others is in demand.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Tabitha, Arise
By Larry Linville
Tabitha, Arise
Open your eyes!
You’ve had your rest
From doing what is best.
Takes these needles and thread
For women who need to be led.
Now that you’re alive
You’ll help others survive.
The church leaders left them out
But you will help them, no doubt.
You’re following Jesus – it is true
We see him working through you.
As ages pass you’re alive today
In the hearts of people as they pray.
As they look around and take heed
To locate people who are in need.
As long as people do as you did
And not keep their lighted candle hid.
Your passion will echo throughout the land
Where the serving of others is in demand.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Playing Softball
Playing Softball
By Larry Linville
The one-room school where I began
Was like those your parents talked about.
I had to walk two miles -- Uphill both ways
Barefoot and in the snow – no doubt.
You’ve heard of them?
That’s where I learned to play softball.
“Work-up” it was called.
Every grade got to play and I was in the first
Those eighth grader were pretty good
But I seemed to be getting worse.
You started in the outfield
With each out you move up one place.
After only three quick outs
You were at third base.
Each infield position from third to first
Then catcher – then you’d pitch
Next put your glove aside
And you batted -- for a switch
You batted while you were getting hits.
But when you made an out,
It was back into the outfield
To follow that same old route.
I didn’t get to bat it seems
Pitching became a rut
When I threw that ball to home
A line drive hit my gut.
With the greatest of disappoinment
I crawled off to the side
And I struggled for another breath.
My batting was denied.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
By Larry Linville
The one-room school where I began
Was like those your parents talked about.
I had to walk two miles -- Uphill both ways
Barefoot and in the snow – no doubt.
You’ve heard of them?
That’s where I learned to play softball.
“Work-up” it was called.
Every grade got to play and I was in the first
Those eighth grader were pretty good
But I seemed to be getting worse.
You started in the outfield
With each out you move up one place.
After only three quick outs
You were at third base.
Each infield position from third to first
Then catcher – then you’d pitch
Next put your glove aside
And you batted -- for a switch
You batted while you were getting hits.
But when you made an out,
It was back into the outfield
To follow that same old route.
I didn’t get to bat it seems
Pitching became a rut
When I threw that ball to home
A line drive hit my gut.
With the greatest of disappoinment
I crawled off to the side
And I struggled for another breath.
My batting was denied.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Can You Hear Me Now?
I was running low on creating new poems but this one came to me yesterday while I was going to the gym. I exercised my muscles and then I returned home to exercise my creativity.
Can You Hear Me Now?
By Larry Linville
He walks across your TV screen
With that nerdy little look.
“Can you hear me now? He asks.
“Good” he said and then he shook.
After seeing this ad a million times
I begin to really hate it.
Then I tried to find a helpful way
For me to relate it.
I wonder, when we go our way
At things we think so dear,
If God would like to talk to us
To see if we can hear?
God has spoken since early times
Through prophets and speakers galore.
But many of present day spokesmen
Say things we should ignore.
God gave his message in a book
We haven’t really read.
We may have perused his words
But not heard what he said.
I wonder how God feels today
As we run on a prowl?
You think he might be shouting
“Can you hear me now?”
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Can You Hear Me Now?
By Larry Linville
He walks across your TV screen
With that nerdy little look.
“Can you hear me now? He asks.
“Good” he said and then he shook.
After seeing this ad a million times
I begin to really hate it.
Then I tried to find a helpful way
For me to relate it.
I wonder, when we go our way
At things we think so dear,
If God would like to talk to us
To see if we can hear?
God has spoken since early times
Through prophets and speakers galore.
But many of present day spokesmen
Say things we should ignore.
God gave his message in a book
We haven’t really read.
We may have perused his words
But not heard what he said.
I wonder how God feels today
As we run on a prowl?
You think he might be shouting
“Can you hear me now?”
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Monday, April 23, 2007
The Finger of Life
The Finger of Life
By Larry R. Linville
(written in the 1960’s and revised in 2007)
The finger of life points at you
And gives you your command.
It may cause your horizon to shrink
Or cause it to expand.
The finger may be bent upward
On a hand with palm turned up,
And it may command you to “come!”
And drink your bitter cup.
It may just point straight at you
In judgment of your past.
It may fill your life with deepest guilt
That seems to eternally last.
But when the finger points at you
It will profit you to heed.
Because that finger will always
Bring you to someone in need.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
By Larry R. Linville
(written in the 1960’s and revised in 2007)
The finger of life points at you
And gives you your command.
It may cause your horizon to shrink
Or cause it to expand.
The finger may be bent upward
On a hand with palm turned up,
And it may command you to “come!”
And drink your bitter cup.
It may just point straight at you
In judgment of your past.
It may fill your life with deepest guilt
That seems to eternally last.
But when the finger points at you
It will profit you to heed.
Because that finger will always
Bring you to someone in need.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
With Apologies To Longfellow
When I was in High School, I played with silly parodies of famous poems. Recently I ran across a group of these. Because this is the beginning of a new week, why not start it off with something light? Longfellow started a poem,
"I shot an arrow into the air
it fell to earth I know not where....."
Well, here is how it turned out for me:
With Apologies to Longfellow
By Larry R. Linville
(written when I was a teenager)
I sneezed a sneeze into the air.
It fell to earth -- I know not where.
A dirty look I got from those
In the direction in which I snose.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
"I shot an arrow into the air
it fell to earth I know not where....."
Well, here is how it turned out for me:
With Apologies to Longfellow
By Larry R. Linville
(written when I was a teenager)
I sneezed a sneeze into the air.
It fell to earth -- I know not where.
A dirty look I got from those
In the direction in which I snose.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Who Touched Me?
I'm about to catch up with my poems. I have most of them here.
My problem is that I have spent so much time working with the blog that I have not been as creative in my writing. That will be OK. I believe the creative mind needs a little rest.
Who Touched me?
By Larry R. Linville
“Who touched me?”
He asked that big crowd.
“Is it I?” the disciples asked in unison.
“Save that line for the Last Supper,” Jesus replied.
“Of course you were touched
It’s a very big crowd.”
“If I did it, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry!”
“I know I was touched because I felt my power being drained!”
It became very quiet as nobody spoke.
They looked in each other’s face.
She stumbled toward him
So feeble, so weak
And yet she seemed to glow like the sun.
She fell at his feet prepared for a scolding.
She said “I’m sorry, sweet Lord.”
She told of twelve years of suffering so much
And she felt that she’d get well with a small touch.
A small touch!
I wonder as I sit here today
How many times has that touch of the Lord
Been received in our very day.
Although he is not here in his body to serve
Could it be that the touch spreads today
When someone who loves and follows the Lord
Brings a caring touch to one in need?
Take time to thank God before you go on
For the people from your past
Who have touched your life and brought a good change.
Then, with the faith of that frail little woman
Ask Jesus to help your faith grow
So you, too, can be one who touches a very needy soul.
Who touched you?
Whose life will Jesus touch through you?
You may be surprised.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
My problem is that I have spent so much time working with the blog that I have not been as creative in my writing. That will be OK. I believe the creative mind needs a little rest.
Who Touched me?
By Larry R. Linville
“Who touched me?”
He asked that big crowd.
“Is it I?” the disciples asked in unison.
“Save that line for the Last Supper,” Jesus replied.
“Of course you were touched
It’s a very big crowd.”
“If I did it, I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry!”
“I know I was touched because I felt my power being drained!”
It became very quiet as nobody spoke.
They looked in each other’s face.
She stumbled toward him
So feeble, so weak
And yet she seemed to glow like the sun.
She fell at his feet prepared for a scolding.
She said “I’m sorry, sweet Lord.”
She told of twelve years of suffering so much
And she felt that she’d get well with a small touch.
A small touch!
I wonder as I sit here today
How many times has that touch of the Lord
Been received in our very day.
Although he is not here in his body to serve
Could it be that the touch spreads today
When someone who loves and follows the Lord
Brings a caring touch to one in need?
Take time to thank God before you go on
For the people from your past
Who have touched your life and brought a good change.
Then, with the faith of that frail little woman
Ask Jesus to help your faith grow
So you, too, can be one who touches a very needy soul.
Who touched you?
Whose life will Jesus touch through you?
You may be surprised.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Thoughts From A Young Father
Thoughts Of A Young Father
By Larry R. Linville
(Written in 1960’s and edited in 2007)
As I watch you play tonight
My emotions pull me apart.
Your actions chill my body
And trills my happy heart.
You make baby sounds
And pretend you are talking
While like a strong lion
My heart you are stalking.
The moment I want you
To sit on my lap
You go at your busy pace
To avoid your short nap.
And when I am busy
Here in my chair
I look up so slowly
To your eyes begging there.
As long as I live
I’ll remember one theme
To always enjoy
Each heart-catching scene.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
By Larry R. Linville
(Written in 1960’s and edited in 2007)
As I watch you play tonight
My emotions pull me apart.
Your actions chill my body
And trills my happy heart.
You make baby sounds
And pretend you are talking
While like a strong lion
My heart you are stalking.
The moment I want you
To sit on my lap
You go at your busy pace
To avoid your short nap.
And when I am busy
Here in my chair
I look up so slowly
To your eyes begging there.
As long as I live
I’ll remember one theme
To always enjoy
Each heart-catching scene.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
To The Mockingbird
To the Mockingbird
By Larry R. Linville
What’s that noise coming from that tree?
I know it’s a bird
But where is he
I can’t see.
Oh, it’s a mockingbird
Aren’t you so proud!
You spend your life copying the crowd.
Do you have an original feather in your body?
With two wings, do you have a different opinion?
I’m glad people aren’t like you.
What did you say?
You see people like you running around every day.
They see what other people say and believe
And they try to copy the way that they live.
They go to churches to learn what to think.
And they wear the right clothing – even if it’s pink.
They find how their friends will vote
And they follow their songs to the very last note.
So, I guess we need a person who will say what he thinks.
Who will speak out for goodness and justice and peace.
Who will encourage the fallen brother or sister.
Who will work for others till he has a blister.
Mister mockingbird what do you think about that?
You’re not so encouraged you said?
We had someone like that long ago
And it’s true that he ended up dead.
Well, Mr. mockingbird, have you heard that’s not all?
He rose three days later
And he lives today in every person
Who will follow his action
Rather than sit on our perches
Copying what others are chirping.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
By Larry R. Linville
What’s that noise coming from that tree?
I know it’s a bird
But where is he
I can’t see.
Oh, it’s a mockingbird
Aren’t you so proud!
You spend your life copying the crowd.
Do you have an original feather in your body?
With two wings, do you have a different opinion?
I’m glad people aren’t like you.
What did you say?
You see people like you running around every day.
They see what other people say and believe
And they try to copy the way that they live.
They go to churches to learn what to think.
And they wear the right clothing – even if it’s pink.
They find how their friends will vote
And they follow their songs to the very last note.
So, I guess we need a person who will say what he thinks.
Who will speak out for goodness and justice and peace.
Who will encourage the fallen brother or sister.
Who will work for others till he has a blister.
Mister mockingbird what do you think about that?
You’re not so encouraged you said?
We had someone like that long ago
And it’s true that he ended up dead.
Well, Mr. mockingbird, have you heard that’s not all?
He rose three days later
And he lives today in every person
Who will follow his action
Rather than sit on our perches
Copying what others are chirping.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
The Death Of A Rabbit
The Death of a Rabbit
By Larry R. Linville
Returning from an out of town school event
As she was telling some story
Leaning forward from her back seat so we could hear.
We all saw the rabbit on the side of the road
Illuminated by our headlights.
When we heard the “thump” under the car
The storytelling abruptly stopped
And it was very quiet.
Except for a quiet sobbing in the back seat.
If only we could have that same reaction
When we become aware of a person’s
Life so violently taken!
An African child with a bloated hungry stomach.
Children whose lives are snuffed out as adults fight wars.
Victims of domestic violence.
Dropouts who have given up before they have an education.
It’s much easier to sit back in our expensive homes
And expensive cars
And our expensive clothes
And get upset
As a rabbit dies.
Lord, have mercy on us!
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
By Larry R. Linville
Returning from an out of town school event
As she was telling some story
Leaning forward from her back seat so we could hear.
We all saw the rabbit on the side of the road
Illuminated by our headlights.
When we heard the “thump” under the car
The storytelling abruptly stopped
And it was very quiet.
Except for a quiet sobbing in the back seat.
If only we could have that same reaction
When we become aware of a person’s
Life so violently taken!
An African child with a bloated hungry stomach.
Children whose lives are snuffed out as adults fight wars.
Victims of domestic violence.
Dropouts who have given up before they have an education.
It’s much easier to sit back in our expensive homes
And expensive cars
And our expensive clothes
And get upset
As a rabbit dies.
Lord, have mercy on us!
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Anointing Jesus' Feet
Anointing Jesus’ Feet
By Larry R. Linville
O Mary, when you anointed the feet of our Lord
And you used your hair to dry them well
The fragrance of that costly perfume
Gave the room a beautiful smell.
Did you want us to know when you shared your love
That we, too, can let our devotion show?
When we give of our best to our Lord
The aroma gives off a sweet glow.
Judas, do you judge that such acts are a waste?
Should we think more about the poor?
May it be that our acts of sweet love
May help lift them from the floor?
What did you mean, our blessed Lord
When you said the poor would always be here?
Were you really telling that disciple of yours
That his complaining was not so sincere?
Mary’s great service of Jesus brought joy
It should cause each of us to think.
Is our work in the kingdom producing sweet smells
Or, like Judas, do we just raise a stink?
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
By Larry R. Linville
O Mary, when you anointed the feet of our Lord
And you used your hair to dry them well
The fragrance of that costly perfume
Gave the room a beautiful smell.
Did you want us to know when you shared your love
That we, too, can let our devotion show?
When we give of our best to our Lord
The aroma gives off a sweet glow.
Judas, do you judge that such acts are a waste?
Should we think more about the poor?
May it be that our acts of sweet love
May help lift them from the floor?
What did you mean, our blessed Lord
When you said the poor would always be here?
Were you really telling that disciple of yours
That his complaining was not so sincere?
Mary’s great service of Jesus brought joy
It should cause each of us to think.
Is our work in the kingdom producing sweet smells
Or, like Judas, do we just raise a stink?
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Holy Saturday
Holy Saturday
By Larry R. Linville
They watched him die on Friday
Or heard that it had happened
While they were hiding in fear.
Tears and words of dismay
Passed between them
All night long.
The sun arose on Saturday
What were they to do?
Everything they had worked for was gone.
It’s a good thing they couldn’t travel
That would have been breaking the Sabbath.
They wanted to be together
They wanted to be alone
Being together gave safety in numbers
But what if those soldiers found them in a group?
How could this have happened?
Where was that God he talked about?
Think of the most depressing thing that could happen to you
And then multiply it by one hundred
Then you’ll know how bad they felt.
If only they could have expressed it
To help us understand today.
Why was nothing written
On that day in between?
It could have helped us when we feel that deep emptiness.
Remember – they didn’t know,
As tortuously as they felt that day,
That the opposite was waiting
With the sunrise.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
By Larry R. Linville
They watched him die on Friday
Or heard that it had happened
While they were hiding in fear.
Tears and words of dismay
Passed between them
All night long.
The sun arose on Saturday
What were they to do?
Everything they had worked for was gone.
It’s a good thing they couldn’t travel
That would have been breaking the Sabbath.
They wanted to be together
They wanted to be alone
Being together gave safety in numbers
But what if those soldiers found them in a group?
How could this have happened?
Where was that God he talked about?
Think of the most depressing thing that could happen to you
And then multiply it by one hundred
Then you’ll know how bad they felt.
If only they could have expressed it
To help us understand today.
Why was nothing written
On that day in between?
It could have helped us when we feel that deep emptiness.
Remember – they didn’t know,
As tortuously as they felt that day,
That the opposite was waiting
With the sunrise.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
If I Knew Then What I Know Now
If I Knew Then What I know Now
By Larry R. Linville
We make a silly statement to cover our mistakes.
We don’t think what it really means.
It seems to be an excuse to ease our guilt
To lessen the attitudes other may have.
If I knew then what I know now…..
We’d be slow learners if this isn’t true.
We’d not have the best knowledge at hand
And purposely choose to ignore it.
That’s not the way our best nature works.
If I knew then what I know now…..
This statement seems to say I’ve arrived
That I finally have all there is.
What if what I know today is not the best choice
And tomorrow I’ll learn something that changes it all.
If I knew then what I’ll know tomorrow…..
As I age and my memory has lapses and such.
When I try to recall a friend’s name.
When a grandchild asks about things in the past
Or a formula I once knew by heart.
I turn that silly saying around and say
If I knew now what I knew then…..
Is knowledge the sole asset in life?
Is that all it takes to decide?
Or could, perhaps, my feelings count too?
Does my gut feeling lead me astray.
If I felt then like I feel now…..
Maybe compassion contributes as much
To the choices that I daily make.
How it touches the lives all about
Where happiness results from what I have done.
If I cared then like I care now……
Perhaps the most valuable thing that I use
Is the faith that I’ve nurtured through grace.
It was smaller and less helpful back then
But now has given me courage to act.
If I had the faith then that I have now…..
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work
By Larry R. Linville
We make a silly statement to cover our mistakes.
We don’t think what it really means.
It seems to be an excuse to ease our guilt
To lessen the attitudes other may have.
If I knew then what I know now…..
We’d be slow learners if this isn’t true.
We’d not have the best knowledge at hand
And purposely choose to ignore it.
That’s not the way our best nature works.
If I knew then what I know now…..
This statement seems to say I’ve arrived
That I finally have all there is.
What if what I know today is not the best choice
And tomorrow I’ll learn something that changes it all.
If I knew then what I’ll know tomorrow…..
As I age and my memory has lapses and such.
When I try to recall a friend’s name.
When a grandchild asks about things in the past
Or a formula I once knew by heart.
I turn that silly saying around and say
If I knew now what I knew then…..
Is knowledge the sole asset in life?
Is that all it takes to decide?
Or could, perhaps, my feelings count too?
Does my gut feeling lead me astray.
If I felt then like I feel now…..
Maybe compassion contributes as much
To the choices that I daily make.
How it touches the lives all about
Where happiness results from what I have done.
If I cared then like I care now……
Perhaps the most valuable thing that I use
Is the faith that I’ve nurtured through grace.
It was smaller and less helpful back then
But now has given me courage to act.
If I had the faith then that I have now…..
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work
Why Didn't They Get It?
Why Didn’t They Get It?
Larry R. Linville
He said the meek would inherit the earth.
The powerful would be powerless.
The lowly would get the best seat.
But two of them requested special seats
One on the left and one on the right.
Why didn’t the disciples get it?
He said to speak kindly to others.
To turn the other cheek.
When they take your coat
Give them your shirt.
Be like small kids
So innocent and pure.
Why didn’t the disciples get it?
He talked of peace so many times.
Violence is to be shunned
Peacemakers are blessed
Enemies are to be forgiven.
Peter drew his knife and sliced the soldiers’ ear.
Why didn’t the disciples get it?
His message still applies today.
We’re busy discussing sin.
Judging others for what they do.
Speaking words he would not say.
Intolerant of those who are different.
Approving those who live in wealth
Who prey upon the poor.
Echoing the belligerent words
Used to justify war.
Abuse this earth God declared good
To satisfy our hunger for pleasures.
We build big churches to hold us in
While keeping others out.
If the disciples looked at us today
Would they ask
Why don’t today’s disciples get it?
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Larry R. Linville
He said the meek would inherit the earth.
The powerful would be powerless.
The lowly would get the best seat.
But two of them requested special seats
One on the left and one on the right.
Why didn’t the disciples get it?
He said to speak kindly to others.
To turn the other cheek.
When they take your coat
Give them your shirt.
Be like small kids
So innocent and pure.
Why didn’t the disciples get it?
He talked of peace so many times.
Violence is to be shunned
Peacemakers are blessed
Enemies are to be forgiven.
Peter drew his knife and sliced the soldiers’ ear.
Why didn’t the disciples get it?
His message still applies today.
We’re busy discussing sin.
Judging others for what they do.
Speaking words he would not say.
Intolerant of those who are different.
Approving those who live in wealth
Who prey upon the poor.
Echoing the belligerent words
Used to justify war.
Abuse this earth God declared good
To satisfy our hunger for pleasures.
We build big churches to hold us in
While keeping others out.
If the disciples looked at us today
Would they ask
Why don’t today’s disciples get it?
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Walking on Water
Here's one of my newest poems. I don't think any of you have read this. I was thinking that Peter sank, but at least he was trying to imitate Jesus. I hope you like it.
Walking on Water
By Larry Linville
Peter saw it.
The strange, ghost-like image
Over the dark waves.
To ease his frightened mind he shouted,
“Jesus, if that’s you, make me walk with you!”
Jesus said, “Come.”
And he did.
He wasn’t graceful
As he tiptoed the raging sea.
He was doing it
And that’s what mattered.
He knew he was good
And he soared with confidence --- in himself.
He needed the Master to order him, at first
But as he progressed
His pride began to grow.
Now he was doing this thing on his own.
He noticed the winds
Which had been there all along.
But now he was troubled.
“What am I going to do about this?”
He knew he couldn’t do it
So he cried out for help.
The lesson for you and me, my friend
Is that its good to try to imitate the Lord.
When we fail, as we all do,
All is not lost.
It’s better to imitate and fail
Then never to imitate at all.
It was when he changed his focus to himself
That he began to sink.
Let’s jump out of the boat today
And imitate the Lord.
And know that when we look at him
And how he lived
And loved
And shared,
When we try and sink
His hand will lift us up.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Walking on Water
By Larry Linville
Peter saw it.
The strange, ghost-like image
Over the dark waves.
To ease his frightened mind he shouted,
“Jesus, if that’s you, make me walk with you!”
Jesus said, “Come.”
And he did.
He wasn’t graceful
As he tiptoed the raging sea.
He was doing it
And that’s what mattered.
He knew he was good
And he soared with confidence --- in himself.
He needed the Master to order him, at first
But as he progressed
His pride began to grow.
Now he was doing this thing on his own.
He noticed the winds
Which had been there all along.
But now he was troubled.
“What am I going to do about this?”
He knew he couldn’t do it
So he cried out for help.
The lesson for you and me, my friend
Is that its good to try to imitate the Lord.
When we fail, as we all do,
All is not lost.
It’s better to imitate and fail
Then never to imitate at all.
It was when he changed his focus to himself
That he began to sink.
Let’s jump out of the boat today
And imitate the Lord.
And know that when we look at him
And how he lived
And loved
And shared,
When we try and sink
His hand will lift us up.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Permit Me To Brag
I shouldn't do this -- but what the heck!
I've only been serious about poetry for a little more than a month.
I was sending them out and several suggested I blog them.
That's saved me a lot of time.
I also send them to Writers.com. This gets them reviewed and copywritten.
Well, I logged in this morning and found they had recognized me on "Noticing Newbies Newsletter." Wow!
I couldn't keep it inside.
I needed to share that.
You know --- I might REALLY be a poet!
On another issue: I've been trying to get the time set on this blog. It has been incorrect.
I've tried to change it.
I'm posting this at 7:02 a.m.
Let's see what the posting says.
I've only been serious about poetry for a little more than a month.
I was sending them out and several suggested I blog them.
That's saved me a lot of time.
I also send them to Writers.com. This gets them reviewed and copywritten.
Well, I logged in this morning and found they had recognized me on "Noticing Newbies Newsletter." Wow!
I couldn't keep it inside.
I needed to share that.
You know --- I might REALLY be a poet!
On another issue: I've been trying to get the time set on this blog. It has been incorrect.
I've tried to change it.
I'm posting this at 7:02 a.m.
Let's see what the posting says.
If God Created With A Computer
The Sunday School teacher started my mind moving on Sunday. He used the idea of a computer as God was creating. I wrote a few notes and then I'm followed up on it this week. Here it is. Enjoy!
If God Created With a Computer
By Larry R. Linville
In the beginning God sat at a giant computer
It must have been an Apple!
But a Dell dude would have been much cuter.
He Googled many topic until he found E-Bay.
He wasn’t sure how it worked
So he opened it up and shopped away.
One by one he filled that cart
He ordered light to balance out the dark.
He knew it would be needed when Noah built the ark.
Next he got some firmament
It was really out of this world.
He got water to put over it
And under it – water whirled
He saw some land and dried it out
And filled it with trees and plants and weeds.
He thought this might help out with food
And other things he’d need.
There was a special on Suns, moons, and stars
He got a multitude of the stars
Along with a great big telescope
In case there was a Mars.
Finally he added flying things and creeping things and such.
Bugs and mosquitoes and gnats, I think.
The creeping things were cows and pigs
And some skunks to raise a stink.
He hit that “check out” button
And it tallied up the cost.
He could truly use his MASTER CARD
Because he was the boss.
The order submitted – now he must wait
Three to five days was delivery time.
There was a great big hush
He only had one day to rest
So he had to mark it, “Rush.”
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
If God Created With a Computer
By Larry R. Linville
In the beginning God sat at a giant computer
It must have been an Apple!
But a Dell dude would have been much cuter.
He Googled many topic until he found E-Bay.
He wasn’t sure how it worked
So he opened it up and shopped away.
One by one he filled that cart
He ordered light to balance out the dark.
He knew it would be needed when Noah built the ark.
Next he got some firmament
It was really out of this world.
He got water to put over it
And under it – water whirled
He saw some land and dried it out
And filled it with trees and plants and weeds.
He thought this might help out with food
And other things he’d need.
There was a special on Suns, moons, and stars
He got a multitude of the stars
Along with a great big telescope
In case there was a Mars.
Finally he added flying things and creeping things and such.
Bugs and mosquitoes and gnats, I think.
The creeping things were cows and pigs
And some skunks to raise a stink.
He hit that “check out” button
And it tallied up the cost.
He could truly use his MASTER CARD
Because he was the boss.
The order submitted – now he must wait
Three to five days was delivery time.
There was a great big hush
He only had one day to rest
So he had to mark it, “Rush.”
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Everything Works Out For the Best
If you've read and were touched by the "Old Metal Desk", this poem is a follow-up on that great man -- my dad. His life was shortened on February 15, 1965. A truck he drove was hit by and train and he died instantly. He was 51 years old and I was the oldest of seven children. I was 23.
enjoy!
Everything Works Out For the Best
By Larry R. Linville
“Everything works out for the best.”
These words he kept deep in his chest.
When times in our life
Were packed full of strife,
He’d say, “Everything works out for the best.”
Where did he get these strange words?
Was it something he thought he had heard?
He just found those words great
Like Romans eight-twenty-eight.
“Everything works out for the best.”
“Everything works out for the best.”
He often put these words to the test.
He believed they were true
And he’d pass them to you.
“Everything works out for the best.”
His life was taken too soon
On that February afternoon.
But his worlds echoed loud
To that large funeral crowd.
“Everything works out for the best.”
His words are still with me today.
They come to my mind when I pray.
My faith has be led
By these words that he said.
“Everything works out for the best.”
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
enjoy!
Everything Works Out For the Best
By Larry R. Linville
“Everything works out for the best.”
These words he kept deep in his chest.
When times in our life
Were packed full of strife,
He’d say, “Everything works out for the best.”
Where did he get these strange words?
Was it something he thought he had heard?
He just found those words great
Like Romans eight-twenty-eight.
“Everything works out for the best.”
“Everything works out for the best.”
He often put these words to the test.
He believed they were true
And he’d pass them to you.
“Everything works out for the best.”
His life was taken too soon
On that February afternoon.
But his worlds echoed loud
To that large funeral crowd.
“Everything works out for the best.”
His words are still with me today.
They come to my mind when I pray.
My faith has be led
By these words that he said.
“Everything works out for the best.”
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
I Have Seen The Lord
Let me share with you a poem I wrote and shared with the congregation for my Easter Sermon.
There are several stories about what happened on Easter morning, but let's follow Mary Magdalene in her experience.
I Have Seen The Lord
Larry R. Linville
She stood speechless at his tomb.
Her mind was searching what had happened – it was such a whirlwind.
Her life had been empty until she had met him.
He had given a glimpse of promise and hope.
She was able to turn her back on her past.
Her future which was starting to look great was destroyed.
That empty grave was reflected by her empty soul.
She had watched as they taunted him
When they slammed that thorny crown on his head.
She saw them drive nails and plant that cross in the ground.
She had stood near the cross with his mother so dear
As they fearfully looked at his pain.
She heard every word that he uttered.
Her heart nearly stopped as he took his last breath
And proclaimed “it is finished” -- and then he died.
She held his mother so close in her heart
As the both of them hugged as they cried.
The Sabbath is over as she walks to his grave.
She didn’t know why she was there.
Maybe she just wanted to be close to him.
She needed to think.
Or maybe it was an expression of care.
She panicked as she saw the missing stone.
She approached as fast as she could.
The empty tomb only increased her own emptiness.
How could she go on from this moment in time.
Not only had he been killed
But insult was added to injury
When someone took off with his body.
As she stood by that open door of despair
Her life couldn’t sink any lower.
A voice spoke but she didn’t hear
The noise of her grief shutout other sounds.
“Why are you weeping?” the voice said again.
Perhaps it’s the culprit, she thought.
“If you’ve taken him, please bring him back!”
And small streams become raging rivers.
It took only one word to awaken her hope.
“Mary.”It’s Jesus! How could that be.
She ran to embrace him.
“Please, let me be.”
“Go tell the disciple that you have seen me.”
She ran away faster than she had come to this place.
Her life so different, she made record time.
She invaded the gathering
She set them in action with her words that seemed foolish.
“I have seen the Lord.”
To lives that are empty today.
And feel they could not be lower.
Who are defeated and hopeless.
And don’t know where to turn.
Her words can echo in your heart.
“I have seen the Lord.”
The news of Easter has not been spread by proof.
No scientist has given us reason to hope.
The media, no matter how mighty they are
Cannot make this message expand.
Easter has come to us down through the years
As person to person the message is given.
“I have seen the Lord.”
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
There are several stories about what happened on Easter morning, but let's follow Mary Magdalene in her experience.
I Have Seen The Lord
Larry R. Linville
She stood speechless at his tomb.
Her mind was searching what had happened – it was such a whirlwind.
Her life had been empty until she had met him.
He had given a glimpse of promise and hope.
She was able to turn her back on her past.
Her future which was starting to look great was destroyed.
That empty grave was reflected by her empty soul.
She had watched as they taunted him
When they slammed that thorny crown on his head.
She saw them drive nails and plant that cross in the ground.
She had stood near the cross with his mother so dear
As they fearfully looked at his pain.
She heard every word that he uttered.
Her heart nearly stopped as he took his last breath
And proclaimed “it is finished” -- and then he died.
She held his mother so close in her heart
As the both of them hugged as they cried.
The Sabbath is over as she walks to his grave.
She didn’t know why she was there.
Maybe she just wanted to be close to him.
She needed to think.
Or maybe it was an expression of care.
She panicked as she saw the missing stone.
She approached as fast as she could.
The empty tomb only increased her own emptiness.
How could she go on from this moment in time.
Not only had he been killed
But insult was added to injury
When someone took off with his body.
As she stood by that open door of despair
Her life couldn’t sink any lower.
A voice spoke but she didn’t hear
The noise of her grief shutout other sounds.
“Why are you weeping?” the voice said again.
Perhaps it’s the culprit, she thought.
“If you’ve taken him, please bring him back!”
And small streams become raging rivers.
It took only one word to awaken her hope.
“Mary.”It’s Jesus! How could that be.
She ran to embrace him.
“Please, let me be.”
“Go tell the disciple that you have seen me.”
She ran away faster than she had come to this place.
Her life so different, she made record time.
She invaded the gathering
She set them in action with her words that seemed foolish.
“I have seen the Lord.”
To lives that are empty today.
And feel they could not be lower.
Who are defeated and hopeless.
And don’t know where to turn.
Her words can echo in your heart.
“I have seen the Lord.”
The news of Easter has not been spread by proof.
No scientist has given us reason to hope.
The media, no matter how mighty they are
Cannot make this message expand.
Easter has come to us down through the years
As person to person the message is given.
“I have seen the Lord.”
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Rivals and Friends
Rivals and Friends
Larry R. Linville
There were two girls who met in school
Long ago
but not so long as friendships go.
They made good grades and did things well
What they’d accomplish was hard to tell.
The day arrived to join the band
They both chose what could start a feud.
They each selected a flute so bright
And with practice they pursued.
A non-band person might not know
What was facing this young pair.
As they advanced they must compete
For that treasured flute first chair.
To get that special place in band
You must practice hard and long.
Before the band director each must sit
And play the very same song.
They exchanged that seat many times
Before their school was done.
The prize went back and forth
And kept them on a run.
You may be anticipating
The outcome of their plight.
I doubt that you’ve selected
The answer that is right.
They graduated as the closest friends
They still are friends today.
Rivals need not to be at odds
That’s all that I can say.
Competition helps us grow
When we pass life’s every test.
It comes by wishing for both of you
The very, very best.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Do You Ever Cry Anymore, Jesus?
Do You Ever Cry Anymore, Jesus
By Larry R. Linville
Do you ever cry anymore, Jesus?
You wept over Jerusalem.
Do you cry when you see us today?
We who call ourselves after your name
And think you only hear us pray?
And we aren’t very loving in the things that we say?
We judge others for what they do
And then condemn them publicly
And claim it’s for you.
Do you ever cry anymore, Jesus?
Do you cry when you see us sift through your Word
When we spit out the gnat of your love
While we swallow the camel of deception?
We throw away someone who is different so quick
Without taking the time to know what makes them tick.
Do you ever cry anymore, Jesus?
Do you cry when we search for that one little verse
Which supports what fits in our plans
Rather than finding the one
Which gives us a glimpse of what you desire?
Do you ever cry anymore, Jesus?
Do those hot tears flow down your cheeks, Jesus?
When you see us use hatred and fear
To influence others to fight our fights
And finance our battles
And echo our slogans?
Do you ever cry anymore, Jesus?
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
By Larry R. Linville
Do you ever cry anymore, Jesus?
You wept over Jerusalem.
Do you cry when you see us today?
We who call ourselves after your name
And think you only hear us pray?
And we aren’t very loving in the things that we say?
We judge others for what they do
And then condemn them publicly
And claim it’s for you.
Do you ever cry anymore, Jesus?
Do you cry when you see us sift through your Word
When we spit out the gnat of your love
While we swallow the camel of deception?
We throw away someone who is different so quick
Without taking the time to know what makes them tick.
Do you ever cry anymore, Jesus?
Do you cry when we search for that one little verse
Which supports what fits in our plans
Rather than finding the one
Which gives us a glimpse of what you desire?
Do you ever cry anymore, Jesus?
Do those hot tears flow down your cheeks, Jesus?
When you see us use hatred and fear
To influence others to fight our fights
And finance our battles
And echo our slogans?
Do you ever cry anymore, Jesus?
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
It Was Just A Dream
It Was Just A Dream
By Larry R. Linville
Jacob was fleeing from his troubled life behind.
He laid his head on a stone to try to get some rest.
Angels on a ladder to heaven brought God down to earth.
When he awoke and looked around
It was just a dream but it seemed so real.
My father was at worship in my church
Even though he’d been dead for years.
I was serving communion
Which I’d never done for him.
It filled a great sweet place in my heart.
It was just a dream but it seemed so real.
Jacob began to consider this thing.
“God was in this place and I knew it not.”
His life was so lifted He was filled with such joy.
It was just a dream but it seemed so real.
After the service we went out to eat.
We talked about all that had happened
Since he was taken from me.
The conversation was almost endless and my joy overflowed.
It was just a dream but it seemed so real.
If Jacob had rolled over and gone back to sleep
He’d have missed so much of the courage he needed
To take his long trip.
The time he took to ponder what it meant
Helped him look at the world through new eyes.
It was just a dream but it seemed so real.
I, too, could have ignored what happened that night.
I’d have missed the boosting of my life.
I might have simply filed it away
With the simple words, “that was strange!”
It was just a dream but it seemed so real.
Jacob blessed that stone pillow and named it “God’s house.”
He went on his way with a special closeness to his God.
My heart has a pillow of that special visit
It is blessed in my heart even today.
It is also God’s house and it has strengthened me on my way.
It was only a dream but it seems so real.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
By Larry R. Linville
Jacob was fleeing from his troubled life behind.
He laid his head on a stone to try to get some rest.
Angels on a ladder to heaven brought God down to earth.
When he awoke and looked around
It was just a dream but it seemed so real.
My father was at worship in my church
Even though he’d been dead for years.
I was serving communion
Which I’d never done for him.
It filled a great sweet place in my heart.
It was just a dream but it seemed so real.
Jacob began to consider this thing.
“God was in this place and I knew it not.”
His life was so lifted He was filled with such joy.
It was just a dream but it seemed so real.
After the service we went out to eat.
We talked about all that had happened
Since he was taken from me.
The conversation was almost endless and my joy overflowed.
It was just a dream but it seemed so real.
If Jacob had rolled over and gone back to sleep
He’d have missed so much of the courage he needed
To take his long trip.
The time he took to ponder what it meant
Helped him look at the world through new eyes.
It was just a dream but it seemed so real.
I, too, could have ignored what happened that night.
I’d have missed the boosting of my life.
I might have simply filed it away
With the simple words, “that was strange!”
It was just a dream but it seemed so real.
Jacob blessed that stone pillow and named it “God’s house.”
He went on his way with a special closeness to his God.
My heart has a pillow of that special visit
It is blessed in my heart even today.
It is also God’s house and it has strengthened me on my way.
It was only a dream but it seems so real.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
The End of the Day
I have returned home from a day with a Walk to Emmaus. I'm tired -- but it's a good tired. Now I have to get ready for my sermon tomorow morning. I'm going to preach on Acts 5:27-32.
I want to concentrate on the words "We must obey God rather than any human authority" (v. 29)
I wrote the following poem which I will pass out to those in attendance before I preach.
We Must Obey God Rather Than Humans
By Larry R. Linville
Acts 5:27-32
Which side would we have been on
As the Apostles were chastised by the authorities?
It wasn’t the government arresting them.
It was the church leaders
The good guys
Those who represented God.
They thought they had handled it with Jesus dead
But now his followers were carrying on.
We have to put a stop to this.
Let’s nip it in the bud.
Don’t let it gain momentum.
We’ll lock them up and scare them.
Let them know we mean business
Make an example of them.
They had to protect God from these misfits.
But they didn’t know that God was not impressed
By their dedication to what they called the Truth.
God sent angels to unlock the jail doors.
And the next morning
They were back.
Here’s Johnny! --- or rather Here’s Peter.
Both sides thought they were serving God.
Those leaders didn’t realize
Their traditions had become their god.
Obedience is good
But obedience to what
Or to whom?
We must, Peter answered,
Obey God rather than human authority.
We are witnesses
And so is the Holy Spirit.
Through the ages the church has stood in this place.
Luther and Calvin and Wesley.
What will happen if they have followers?
Yet today the descendants
Of Luther and Calvin and Wesley
Are upset at others who have come along.
What about James Jones and his Kool Aid gang?
And David Koresch and Waco crowd?
The radical right and the radical left
The non-denominational denominations?
If we “must obey God”
Why do we disagree so much?
Do we witness only to what we believe?
Or do we witness along with the Holy Spirit
Given to all who obey God?
Larry Linville
I want to concentrate on the words "We must obey God rather than any human authority" (v. 29)
I wrote the following poem which I will pass out to those in attendance before I preach.
We Must Obey God Rather Than Humans
By Larry R. Linville
Acts 5:27-32
Which side would we have been on
As the Apostles were chastised by the authorities?
It wasn’t the government arresting them.
It was the church leaders
The good guys
Those who represented God.
They thought they had handled it with Jesus dead
But now his followers were carrying on.
We have to put a stop to this.
Let’s nip it in the bud.
Don’t let it gain momentum.
We’ll lock them up and scare them.
Let them know we mean business
Make an example of them.
They had to protect God from these misfits.
But they didn’t know that God was not impressed
By their dedication to what they called the Truth.
God sent angels to unlock the jail doors.
And the next morning
They were back.
Here’s Johnny! --- or rather Here’s Peter.
Both sides thought they were serving God.
Those leaders didn’t realize
Their traditions had become their god.
Obedience is good
But obedience to what
Or to whom?
We must, Peter answered,
Obey God rather than human authority.
We are witnesses
And so is the Holy Spirit.
Through the ages the church has stood in this place.
Luther and Calvin and Wesley.
What will happen if they have followers?
Yet today the descendants
Of Luther and Calvin and Wesley
Are upset at others who have come along.
What about James Jones and his Kool Aid gang?
And David Koresch and Waco crowd?
The radical right and the radical left
The non-denominational denominations?
If we “must obey God”
Why do we disagree so much?
Do we witness only to what we believe?
Or do we witness along with the Holy Spirit
Given to all who obey God?
Larry Linville
The American Idol
The American Idol
By Larry R. Linville
Millions of people watch every week the American Idol show.
They miss other things so they can help to decide
Who will stay or will go.
One by one the contestants go home till only one person is there.
They are given a title which they do not have to share.
I wonder who the real American Idols are?
A father who works many hours
To provide for his family’s need.
A teacher who gives up lucrative pay
to help our youth succeed.
The cop on the corner, the firefighter on call
The soldier who leaves our fair land.
A Christian who sings in the choir
And another who plays in the band.
A social worker giving a helping hand
A missionary working in a foreign land.
These folks won’t make millions
But their pay will be more.
They continue their service even though they are sore.
The bonus is given to those with the nerve
Whose ultimate goal is to reach out and serve.
It is more blessed to give than to receive
The man from Nazareth said.
You learn the value of his excellent words
When you are Spirit led
And forget the praise and just do what you can.
Then, and only then, my friend
You are a true American Idol
Whether you’re a woman or a man.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
By Larry R. Linville
Millions of people watch every week the American Idol show.
They miss other things so they can help to decide
Who will stay or will go.
One by one the contestants go home till only one person is there.
They are given a title which they do not have to share.
I wonder who the real American Idols are?
A father who works many hours
To provide for his family’s need.
A teacher who gives up lucrative pay
to help our youth succeed.
The cop on the corner, the firefighter on call
The soldier who leaves our fair land.
A Christian who sings in the choir
And another who plays in the band.
A social worker giving a helping hand
A missionary working in a foreign land.
These folks won’t make millions
But their pay will be more.
They continue their service even though they are sore.
The bonus is given to those with the nerve
Whose ultimate goal is to reach out and serve.
It is more blessed to give than to receive
The man from Nazareth said.
You learn the value of his excellent words
When you are Spirit led
And forget the praise and just do what you can.
Then, and only then, my friend
You are a true American Idol
Whether you’re a woman or a man.
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
That Was Frightening
I retired for the evening to get a good rest before starting a busy Saturday. I was feeling good that I had accomplished a new skill -- the ability to blog. I'm sure I slept with a smile on my face.
I've been trying, for over 30 minutes, to get into my account so I could add a few comments. I tried to sign in and it wouldn't accept my attempts to fill in all those USER NAME and PASSWORD spaces. Over and over again.
I started thinking -- those good people will look and will not be able to find anything new. "Ol' Larry is back to starting something he can't finish!" "Ol' Larry isn't as smart as he thinks he is!" "What happens to blogs that are started and then just stay suspended in that form?" "Where do dead blogs go when they die?" "Will we see it after we die -- and what will it look like?"
Then I have to wonder who created the blog? Did I start it or did Google create it? If Google created it, who created Google? I have a lot of theological questions.
If Jesus was walking on earth today -- would he blog?
When you say something Jesus agrees with -- does he say: EXACTLY!
Does Jesus ever say "Ya know"?
Well, I have a lot to do today. I ask for your prayers. Will you pray that the next time I try to get ready to do another entry in the blog, I will remember how I did it this time?
Larry
I've been trying, for over 30 minutes, to get into my account so I could add a few comments. I tried to sign in and it wouldn't accept my attempts to fill in all those USER NAME and PASSWORD spaces. Over and over again.
I started thinking -- those good people will look and will not be able to find anything new. "Ol' Larry is back to starting something he can't finish!" "Ol' Larry isn't as smart as he thinks he is!" "What happens to blogs that are started and then just stay suspended in that form?" "Where do dead blogs go when they die?" "Will we see it after we die -- and what will it look like?"
Then I have to wonder who created the blog? Did I start it or did Google create it? If Google created it, who created Google? I have a lot of theological questions.
If Jesus was walking on earth today -- would he blog?
When you say something Jesus agrees with -- does he say: EXACTLY!
Does Jesus ever say "Ya know"?
Well, I have a lot to do today. I ask for your prayers. Will you pray that the next time I try to get ready to do another entry in the blog, I will remember how I did it this time?
Larry
Friday, April 13, 2007
The Old Metal Desk
The first poem that got me started about a month ago was something that is deep in my heart. When I was a young pastor, my father sent an old metal desk to replace my orange crate desk. He couldn't afford it and, for that reason, it has really meant much to me. Let me include that poem as my first entry. I hope you enjoy.
The Old Metal Desk
By larry r linville
He never told me he loved me – at least I don’t recall.
He was father to seven kids and I know he loved us all.
He worked long hours every day – long as he was able
Just to put food upon our meager table.
He took us all to church whenever Sunday came
But had to miss, because of work, most every baseball game.
His approval seemed evident when I heard the call of God.
And at my first sermon he affirmed it with a nod.
He visited our house not long after we were wed.
He glanced into my office and not a word was said.
I know he saw my make-shift desk
Two orange crates and some wood.
And I thought nothing of it as he left and said, “Be good!”
About a week or maybe two I had some very strange luck.
There was a great big package delivered by a truck.
We cut the tape and pulled the sides apart so we could see
A brand new metal desk my father sent to me.
Although he couldn’t afford it
He bought this for his boy.
And he knew what he had given me was much more than a toy.
The desk is now rusted and broken
The evidence of years and wear.
It still stands in my house – unused
With “I love you” written everywhere!
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
The Old Metal Desk
By larry r linville
He never told me he loved me – at least I don’t recall.
He was father to seven kids and I know he loved us all.
He worked long hours every day – long as he was able
Just to put food upon our meager table.
He took us all to church whenever Sunday came
But had to miss, because of work, most every baseball game.
His approval seemed evident when I heard the call of God.
And at my first sermon he affirmed it with a nod.
He visited our house not long after we were wed.
He glanced into my office and not a word was said.
I know he saw my make-shift desk
Two orange crates and some wood.
And I thought nothing of it as he left and said, “Be good!”
About a week or maybe two I had some very strange luck.
There was a great big package delivered by a truck.
We cut the tape and pulled the sides apart so we could see
A brand new metal desk my father sent to me.
Although he couldn’t afford it
He bought this for his boy.
And he knew what he had given me was much more than a toy.
The desk is now rusted and broken
The evidence of years and wear.
It still stands in my house – unused
With “I love you” written everywhere!
© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
getting started
Well, this novice is giving it a try. I absolutely do not know what I am doing. I've had several persons pushing me. So, let me introduce myself. I am a 65 year old semi-retired United Methodist Pastor. I have served churches in Missouri -- most north. I have had a variety of experiences including writing sports for a weekly newspaper for 9 1/2 years. This resulted in a book of daily devotions: "Getting Fired Up. Devotions for the Christian Athlete."
I recently discovered an ability (God given) to write poetry. I'm not sure how good it is but I have had good reviews. Poems are good if they are not shared, so I plan to share them here.
I will probably talk about other things as well.
I'm going to push that orange button that says "publish" and see what happens.
Larry Linville
I recently discovered an ability (God given) to write poetry. I'm not sure how good it is but I have had good reviews. Poems are good if they are not shared, so I plan to share them here.
I will probably talk about other things as well.
I'm going to push that orange button that says "publish" and see what happens.
Larry Linville
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