TO MY FRIEND
by Terrie van Baarsel
To while away the hours with a friend
And mark the shadows lengthening again,
‘Tis sweet familiarity that dares
To furtively unveil the mystery there.
Now speak and trust another seeks your best
Or pause and peacefully remain at rest
Where cords of hope hold fast security
And tested true, in time, bear certainty
To find when mist and gray turn into rain
Safe harbor in another’s strength again.
There sheltered, anchor steadfastly and stay
‘Till sun breaks through and steals the clouds away,
And reminisce discovered treasures past,
Reflecting futures clearly seen at last,
That presently reveal God’s plan to be
That He has graciously given to me
My friend.
Category Archives: Poetry
Friendship: A Gracious Gift From God
The Open Hand
You open your hand; you satisfy the desire of every living thing. Psalm 145:16
THE OPEN HAND
by Terrie van Baarsel
Drinking deep of deadly lies
Blind and dead to His good will
Had He not plucked me from the mire
I would be left in darkness still.
What antidote to crushing debt
Was freely giv’n by God’s own Son!
No need had I t’was left unmet
Once sin’s power had been undone.
That God would do what I could not!
That God could do what I would not!
That God would hide my life in Christ
And calm my soul so prone to fear
Then satisfy my heart’s desire
By loving me and drawing near!
Oh, the open hand of God
That opens freely and of Grace!
No clenched fist, no iron rod
No punishment meets upturned face.
Pleasures Pure
PLEASURES PURE
by Terrie van Baarsel
Rain-1686 (Photo credit: pomranka)
I want to go where hearts are beating
Where time is short and life is fleeting
Where laughter dares and cheeks are ruddy
And children sing and boots are muddy
From delightful rousing romps through rain
That end in warmth of hearth again.
I long to rid my heart of worry
Take my time and never hurry
Stroll through orchards born of earth
Grown from seeds of truest mirth
Pluck ripe fruit and bite right in
And let sweet juice run down my chin.
I want to drink of love’s new wine
So deep and rich in taste, divine!
Then toast the hues of morning sun
And never being weary, run
‘Long winding paths through forest glades
‘Til shadows fall and sunlight fades.
Oh to dance in autumn leaves
Await the bite of winter’s freeze
And riding emerald springtime swells
Recall a child’s lost summer spells
Her mirrored dreams of salt and spray
Bright sea-kissed skies o’er holidays!
And yet, just to share a cup of tea
And gaze into the eyes of thee
Sing this moment’s carefree song
To trust ’tis here where I belong
Desiring naught but ties that bind
Secure and free at the same time.
Old Woman
OLD WOMAN
by Terrie van Baarsel
English: Portrait of old woman sitting by a window. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
The treasures of this world
Once held close
Are not so tightly clasped
Nor grasped
She wonders why they were once so important.
Years have fled
Paring down essential matters
Her history written
By a Sovereign Decree of Holy Love
And this is what stands out
Alone
Above the rest.
What stories she tells!
(While silent.)
What praises she sings!
(In the quietness of her affections.)
And to the God she once trusted
She extends her hands
And yet trusts.
She is almost there
And does not lose heart
She is almost home
And Christ, the lover of her soul
Gives grace.
Dull eyes see farther.
Still lips speak clearer.
Weak hearts love harder.
Aged beauty is beauty still.
A lifetime of dreams
Lie dormant
Tucked neatly in folds of skin
But dreams rise again
When watered
By eternal springs of glory.
So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18
The Waiting
My Beautiful Daughter
I am the mother of three young adults, all in their early 20′s. I just found out this week that my “little girl” (22 years old, actually) is moving out of our home and will be renting a house with three of her girlfriends.
I’m excited for her.
I know that she will gain valuable life experience.
But, it’s still bitter-sweet. I’m thankful she is moving close by. I am thankful she works near by. I am trusting the Lord for her while she is not living under our roof.
My mind has been full this week, thinking about her leaving. I was reminded of a poem I wrote several years ago when I realized that the children we had raised were growing up. I’m sharing it with you here.
THE WAITING
by Terrie van Baarsel
Time is a deaf old man
Ignoring my pleas.
I can recall the years,
My fair-haired wonders,
When I had all the answers,
Or at least you thought I did.
Now,
The question hangs in the balance.
The past lingers,
Distanced and shadowed
Caught in dusty theatres
And pine needle blankets,
Held captive in story books,
Crushed in dandelion bouquets.
A rush of life
The memory of sweet kisses,
Life’s dreams and expectations
Cradled in regret,
Are soon set free
For hope’s sake.
Fixed is the mystery of Mother and Child.
The agony and joy of boundless love.
You no longer wait for me,
But run on ahead
And I retreat
And wish it were not so,
That you would turn ’round
And lend me your hand.
Move slower, more deliberate.
It’s not to be,
At least for now.
But, it does not matter
Because Maternal Love
Waits.
Circle of Grace
CIRCLE OF GRACE
by Terrie van Baarsel
Shall I there abide?
Yes, where rough sawn beams
Are sentinels of the message-
The Power of God! The Wisdom of God!
In the shadow of the cross
Near the One who died for me,
Son of God – Perfect in Righteousness
Who loosed my bands of guilt and sin…
Shout Freedom! Tremble Liberty!
Refuge from temptation,
Profound and dark,
Deep and still,
Beautiful,
Impenetrable, Divine,
From your depths a mystery-
The Blood of Redemption flowed
And soaked the ground, making it Holy.
Sacred Umbra penetrate
My soul, my heart, my mind
And kill my flesh, and kill my flesh.
O shelter cast of mercy,
Deliver me
From glittering madness
And cover me as a veil,
the Bride of Christ.
God Our Fortress
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. (Psalm 46:1)
Troubles will come in this life, of that we can be sure. How sweet then is the assurance that God is our refuge? When the flood threatens, when the night is darkest, retreat in blessed certitude and holy confidence that God is our fortress, our protection from the raging storm. The psalmist lifts our hearts and calms our fears, for not only is God our refuge, but our strength as well. Therefore, our predicament is never hopeless, for we place our hope in the God who cannot fail. We hide not in weakness, but strength, surrounded by the presence of our Heavenly Father. In the very moment when trouble finds us, He is there.
I am reminded of the classic hymn, A Mighty Fortress Is Our God. Martin Luther penned this beautiful hymn circa 1529 during a time of great personal turmoil. Translated into scores of different languages from the original German, “Ein’ feste Burg ist unser Gott”, Luther’s words have encouraged Christians for hundreds of years. They still stand true today.
A mighty fortress is our God,
A Bulwark never failing;
Our Helper He amid the flood
Of mortal ills prevailing:
For still our ancient foe
Doth seek to work us woe;
His craft and power are great,
And armed with cruel hate,
On earth is not his equal.
Did we in our own strength confide,
Our striving would be losing;
Were not the right Man on our side,
The Man of God’s own choosing:
Dost ask who that may be?
Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth His Name,
From age to age the same,
And He must win the battle.
And though this world with devils filled,
Should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for God hath willed
His truth to triumph through us:
The Prince of Darkness grim,
We tremble not for him;
His rage we can endure,
For lo! his doom is sure,
One little word shall fell him.
That word above all earthly powers,
No thanks to them, abideth;
The Spirit and the gifts are ours
Through Him who with us sideth:
Let goods and kindred go,
This mortal life also;
The body they may kill:
God’s truth abideth still,
His Kingdom is forever!
May the words of the psalmist impart to us great courage, and may the words of this hymn resound in our hearts ever reminding us that “A Mighty Fortress is Our God!” Amen.
By His Grace and for the Gospel,
Terrie van Baarsel
The Suffering King
Matt McCarty shared this poem recently with our Cornerstone Care Group. I was so blessed, I requested a copy so that I could not only re-read and digest the words slowly, but also so that I could post it here on Gospel Apprentice. Hope you are blessed as well!
By His Grace and for the Gospel,
Terrie
THE SUFFERING KING
-by Matthew McCarty
In blood with screams of agony
This King sustains last mortal breath
As pain wrecked frame fights violently
To give his failing lungs a rest
But nails and crown shaped thorns impede
All efforts thus to bring relief
And skin unwrapped to nerve and meat
Boasts pain too real to mount this feat
So slowly sinks His body down
To rest upon those dreadful spikes
With last of strength He looks round
Till gaze unveils what seeks His eyes
I can’t believe or comprehend
But those tear soaked eyes have fixed on me
Ashamed I try to hide the sin
That all this while did bring me glee
But all is seen, my all is bare
For light and truth has proven wise
To show the beauty my heart did sneer
And pain wrought sacrifice despise
And so the shame my soul does feel
Finds deeper depth and further reach
But eyes and gaze are on me still
While lips contort and start to speak
What falls upon my ready ears
Are things that words cannot convey
Things that bring my heart to tears
Things that beckon me to stay
For the King upon this bloodstained cross
As pure and spotless as a lamb
Claims all this torture is no loss
Says through it and by, perfect I am
It cannot be my soul proclaims
For in this hour I loved my sin
As you were scourged in dreadful pain
And your body hung with wicked men
But says He firm, through bloodcrust lips
Know that t’was for this very hour
I came to climb this hill and fix
Your sin and heart so do not cower
For all your sin is cast on me
To delight My Father My soul to crush
That all be nailed into this tree
That you become His righteousness
My knees then fasten to the ground
And fingers clutch His nail pierced step
And through my sobs a booming sound
The King proclaims
IT IS FINISHED!
But for Christ’s Blood
How oft do we condemn when Christ would not?
Is it more than repentance we require
as if the perfect work that He has wrought
suffices not to save us from the fire?
How is it that we refuse to forgive?
Dare we ask for more than His sacrifice?
Are we more righteous than He who would cleanse?
Yet, we cast the first stone, quick to chastise.
Why do we turn from the beauty of Him,
preferring darkness to One Right and Fair
and fixing our eyes on weakness and sin,
shamelessly feast on transgression laid bare?
Are we not sinners redeemed at great cost,
and but for Christ’s blood yet hopeless and lost?
By His Grace and for the Gospel,
Terrie van Baarsel
My Father Knows
“Look, I go forward, but He is not there, And backward, but I cannot perceive Him; When he works on the left hand, I cannot behold Him; When He turns to the right hand, I cannot see Him. But He knows the way that I take; When He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold…” (Job 23:8-10)
Beneath the Cloak
by Terrie van Baarsel
The weight and woe
The desperate lack of vision
God’s Mercy
Unseen
His love
Hidden within the folds
Of a burial cloth
Pressed down
Crushed
A man’s soul bleeds
He hears God’s voice
As silence
Only echoed
Even as
Darkness
Divinely appointed
Obscures
His Maker’s face
But, the man
Unseeing
Is seen
Clarity of Grace
A brilliant
Resplendent
Conflagration
Of glorious hope
Births faith
“My Father knows the way I take.”
Then
A sublime expectancy
A burning away
A throwing off
A revelation
Beneath the cloak
Pure
Gold
