While traveling we carry various things to make our journey easier so that we don’t face any inconvenience while traveling. Take Bible verses and these Journey Of Faith Poems as a guide along with your luggage so that your journey can be smooth and happy.
The Prayer Of Faith
Equality and Ownership
Poet: Greta Zwaan, © 2006
The dust on the ground lies equal at our feet;
The air that we breathe is equally sweet.
The early morning sun brings light to my door;
It gives the same to each – no less and no more.
You may not choose where the raindrops fall
Or when the whippoorwill sends out its mating call.
You can’t control the coming days of spring,
Nor can you tell the robin when to sing.
You can’t control the waters of the sea,
Nor draw upon the sands where its lines will be.
You cannot tell the length of days of man;
The thoughts in his mind or what he might plan.
You might think you have power and that you’re in control,
But only God is able to discern what’s in man’s soul.
The might you have been given, the strength that you display,
Is yours but for a moment, then it quickly fades away.
All your dreams and fancies are but a breath of air,
All your schemes and planning can bring you to despair.
Look up and see your Maker who holds time in His hands,
Revolve your thoughts around Him, include Him in your plans.
In charge of every moment, of every breath you take,
Authority and power o’er every move you make.
You can’t deny His kinship, you can’t ignore His claim,
Whatever your decision, He’s faithful; He’ll remain.
He pleads for your devotion; eternal life is free!
You only need acceptance; you only need to see.
That Christ has made this offer, Yes! Christ is in control;
If you choose for the Master, then He’ll choose for your soul.
Poet S.E. Kiser
Faith is not merely praying
Upon your knees at night;
Faith is not merely straying
Through darkness to the light.
Faith is not merely waiting
For glory that may be,
Faith is not merely hating
The sinful ecstasy.
Faith is the brave endeavor
The splendid enterprise,
The strength to serve, whatever
Conditions may arise.
The Final Reward
Poet: Greta Zwaan, © 2003
I’m nothing special, I’m what God has made;
The talents I have are not always displayed.
I’m not a horn-blower, I’m not one to shout,
But I work for the Lord as I travel about.
I don’t wear a halo, yet I’m promised a crown,
Because I am faithful, I’m on holy ground.
I can’t play piano, I really can’t sing,
But I count it a privilege to be serving my King.
I’m glad to make meals for those who are ill,
Or visit the lonely, empty moments to fill.
I don’t own a mansion, I don’t have much wealth,
But God has been gracious by granting me health.
I’ve promised to serve Him as long as I live,
To share of the blessings He is willing to give.
I give myself freely, to serve and to praise;
I’ll walk in His footsteps till the end of my days.
I may not get credit from earth’s selfish crowd;
I may not hear accolades spoken out loud,
No recognition for things I have done
Until I meet Jesus, God’s only Son.
That will be glory! A wonderful day!
When I am promoted my Father will say:
“Well done, faithful servant; come sit with the Lord,
You have been faithful, you’ve earned your reward.”
Yes, I’ll be patient, and do what I can
To follow instructions and abide by His plan.
Man cannot thwart what God has in store,
Nothing on earth can promise us more.
Life’s disappointments He will erase,
All will be glory when we meet face to face!
What Is Faith?
Poet: Emily Hersey
We live by faith – what is faith? but to say
“I take Thy hand, O Lord, lead Thou the way;
For without Thee as Guide I dare not go;
Gladly I take the pathway Thou dost show;
Teach me Thy will to do;
I trust Thee, for I know that Thou are true.”
To feel whatever comes, though dark the way,
Secure in Thee; more confident each day
That Thou are good. – Thy hand is guiding me;
Serene my soul can rest;
For all that Thou dost plan for me is best.
Poet: Greta Zwaan, © 2008
Can it ever be said of you, “You wear the cloak with joy?”
You’re the example to follow, for daily your faith you deploy.
Pain and hardship excepted, trials and tears on your path;
Others may find these distractions, daily increasing their wrath.
What is the point of this suffering? Who is the one that will gain?
Is this a means of correction? Is there a cause for my pain?
If only I could see reason, is there a purpose, a plan?
A benefit in this dark saga? Perhaps an assistance to man?
I wonder, am I being faithful enough to show others God’s light?
I feel overwrought by this burden, when day seems as dark as the night.
I can’t see a light in this tunnel, I’ve tried but my mind is a blur,
I’m far from being heroic, no bravery when such things occur.
By nature I’m not a complainer, my sorrows I bury inside;
Others too have their battles, compassion is often denied.
I long for this to be over, be back as things were before;
Considering this just a memory, not walking this road anymore.
But who am I to demand it? What claim do I have to be healed?
I center my focus on Jesus to whom all my pain is revealed.
He promised not to forsake me, He said all my prayers will be heard;
I trust His judgment completely; I fervently heed to His Word.
I do not claim to be joyful; I do not fare well with pain,
However, compared to Christ’s suffering, this trial I will not distain.
The peace I have in His presence, the knowledge that He understands,
Allows me the freedom to follow, and walk on the road He commands.
His Voice I Hear
Poet: Jennie Mast
I can not tell when the thunders peal,
How fiercely the storm may rage,
Nor how dense are the shades of the night that steal
O’er the path of my pilgrimage;
But I know with my Savior always near,
As that night on the Galilee,
The tempest will cease when his voice I hear,
And the darkest shadows flee.
I can not see through the darksome clouds
His image so wondrous fair;
I forget sometimes when the gloom enshrouds
The mansion awaiting there:
But if on the wings of faith I soar
In the strength of his Word alone,
My soul can drink till I want no more,
From fountains of love unknown.
I can not drink one draught of pain
From the cup once drained for me,
Or bear the heat on the desert plain,
Nor the grief of Gethsemane;
But I know if his cross I meekly bear,
If I labor and watch and pray,
His sufferings I a part my share
From thorns in the narrow way.
I can not see for the veil between
The beautiful gates ajar,
The streets of gold and the living green
On the banks of the river there;
But I know somewhere on that heavenly strand
Is a mansion and robe and crown,
Preserved by the Savior’s loving hand
Till my work on earth is done.
Read More: Faith Over Fear Poems, Messages
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