Sometimes we feel disappointed because we are deprived of some blessings or we don’t get anything and we also ignore the blessings given by Gods. Like breathing, changing day and night, loving others etc. We think we deserve more than what we got but Gods knows better what we are capable of. If we see that some people are deprived of the blessings that have been given to us. Be thankful for Gods blessings. Here is a list of some of the best poems about Gods blessings that will help you to be grateful to God.
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Our Blessings
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Blessings He’ll Shower On You
Poet: Greta Zwaan, © 2018
What will happen when your time
runs out and all your strength ebbs away?
When all the things on earth obtained have come to the point of decay?
When you cannot rise with the morning sun and
the night seems as long as the day?
When the strength of your youth is no longer your source
and all your plans go astray?
I know the results when you try to achieve the goals that you set long ago,
That you’re sure with hard work you could reach for the top,
Yet there’s so much in life you don’t know.
You trust in your skills; you honour your wealth;
your mind is filled with ideas;
You live at fast pace with no room to make friends;
being idle you call a disease.
But I want to warn you, your time is quite brief,
in a moment it’s all whisked away.
Take heed to this warning while you still have time;
this could be your final day!
Someone will claim what you now call your own,
things that consumed all your health.
Where is the gain when you cannot enjoy even one day of your wealth?
All that you have, all that you own, really is not yours to claim –
The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof;
the deed is made out in His name.
Be wary my friend, prepare for the day,
give unto God what is due;
Give Him your heart, give Him your dreams;
great blessings He’ll shower on you.
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Christ’s Friends
A Blessing
Poet: Thomas Otway
Then hear me, bounteous Heaven,
Pour down your, blessings on this beauteous head,
Where everlasting sweets are always springing,
With a continual giving hand: let peace,
Honor, and safety always hover round her:
Feed her with plenty; let her eyes ne’er see
A sight of sorrow, nor her heart know mourning;
Crown all her days with joy, her nights with rest,
Harmless as her own thoughts; and prop her virtue,
To bear the loss of one that too much loved;
And comfort her with patience in our parting.
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Thanksgiving
All My Help From God
Poet: J. J. Thorne
God’s love and mercy gave my birth,
God blessed me on my mother’s arm;
God blessed my mother to love me.
To her heart I was a charm.
God blessed me in the cradle,
God blessed my days of youth;
God blessed me with a mother and father.
That always taught me the truth.
God gave me life, health and strength,
And eyes that I might see;
Every blessing of my life
God has handed down to me.
God blessed me with a conscience.
To guide my steps day by day;
Yet am an alien vile and blind.
Open my heart to know thy way.
God has blessed me twenty-eight years of age.
Blessed my arm with a poet’s hand;
How my pencil has written this book,
‘Tis more than my heart can understand.
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If You Can’t Find Joy
Poet: Greta Zwaan, © 2008
If you can’t find joy in your daily life, have you walked away from the source?
Are you letting your problems fill up your heart, are you living in daily remorse?
Does your life feel empty, unchallenged and dull?
Is fulfillment not treasure enough?
Do you feel rejected unneeded, dismayed; is your road so lonely and rough?
Are you searching for treasures beyond your reach, for goals you cannot obtain?
Are you placing your trust in the gold of this world – a substance that will not remain?
Have you been persuaded that life is fulfilled when power is in your control?
Are you surrounded by thoughts of success to the point you’ve forgotten your soul?
Have you not heard that man is but dust and all earthly efforts are vain?
Are you so centered on what you achieve that other’s advice you disdain?
What will you do when your plans are fulfilled?
Will you sit back in your pride and your glee?
Will you tell the whole world of what you’ve achieved and proudly shout,
“World! Look at me!”?
Friend, I must tell you, your works aren’t your own,
there’s nothing on earth you possess,
You may have titles to deeds and great wealth, things here on earth to caress.
But God is the owner, Creator of all, who allows you this privilege, this joy.
It’s here for a moment and gone in a flash, so quickly time comes to destroy.
Lay not up treasures down here on earth, let not this be your concern.
Life in eternity holds your rewards, investments that bring great return.
Give back to God all that is His, not just the things you can spare,
You’ll find more fulfillment, more peace in your heart,
when you willingly give what you share.
God will reward you for giving to Him, more than your heart could request;
His shovel is bigger than any sized pails, be ready to be richly blessed.
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Does Supply My Needs
by J. I. Cover
Oh Lord to Thee on high
Who does my needs supply,
I raise my song.
Thy mercies full and free
On every hand I see,
Thy tender care for me
To keep from wrong.
I praise Thee that Thy grace
Saves from a fallen race
Who come to Thee.
Thy power can make me whole
And fully save my soul;
Where ceaseless ages roll,
There I may be.
May all who know Thy ways,
All join in songs of praise,
Thy name to own.
Guide us along the way,
That we may never stray,
Till we may praise and pray
Around Thy throne.
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Praise God
Poet: Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
“Praise God from whom all blessings flow.”
Praise Him who sendeth joy and woe.
The Lord who takes — the Lord who gives —
O praise him, all that dies, and lives.
He opens and he shuts his hand,
But why, we cannot understand.
Pours and dries up his mercies’ flood,
And yet is still All-perfect Good.
And when, the tempest passing by,
He gleams out, sun-like, through our sky.
We look up and, through black clouds riven,
We recognize the smile of Heaven.
Ours is no wisdom of the wise.
We have no deep philosophies;
Childlike we take both kiss and rod,
For he who loveth knoweth God.
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The Retreat
Poet: Gertrude S. Dupper
I carry in my mind a picture clear —
A low and rambling house; its people dear.
It nestles by a gently rolling hill,
And though I’m far away I hear the trill
Of red birds; hear a purling brooklet sing
Along the broad lawn’s edge — its source a spring.
I see the willow with its outflung arm
Stand sentry-like as though to guard from harm
Here water cress grows satin green, and moss
All those who would this crystal-clear stream cross.
Like velvet sheathes its banks, and reaches where
The Rose of Sharon marches tall and fair,
Along the sloping pathway to the door.
And inside there is peace, a goodly store.
All mine from which to draw when nerves and mind
Are taut and weary from the daily grind.
Ah! soon, I’ll leave the city and its noise
To steep my heart in peace, regain my poise
Among these friends who carry faith’s torch high.
Upon whose simple home God’s blessings lie.
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Read More: Poems About Grace of God and Beauty