These Christian Faith poems are examples of Faith poems about Christian. These are the best examples of Christian Faith poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
His daddy is fighting in Iraq.
His mommy is fighting tears.
His brother is fighting death.
He is fighting his desolation and fears.
Friends are but a dream
and companions are an illusion.
School is a concentration camp,
but he stands, though alone, in the midst of confusion.
His training school is loneliness.
His milestones are fears, thrust in lies.
His only weapon is faith
and his bullets are soft "hallelujah" cries.
Strength left his fragile body
and he lost the fight in life so coy,
yet on his knees he conquered agony
and I call him the little soldier boy.
O~n occasion, the mind accretes to, "the hurt," when facing
V~icissitudes; blinded by, "the better nature," causing to
E~fface the focus from the Architect while simultaneously
R~aising questions why. Impatience encourages the
C~ollaboration of misery to consult with those of the same mind.
O~nly then to find temporary pleasure due to humanly clocks power.
M~entally drained by dint of attacks upon attacks; seemingly to be
I~nsufferable and impregnable. Though the Architect,
N~ever vanishes and will never vanish from the scene. So,
G~ive and release all apprehension with entire trust.
S~torms will arise from daybreak to nightfall. It must be remembered the
A~rchitect of whom in total control oversees misery so
N~ever question the authority. Become courageous and
D~etermined that, "This Too Shall Pass." Be conscious of
S~trength, wisdom and knowledge evolving afterwards.
T~oday, focus on the size of the Architect and Not
O~n what the mind can't do. Always
R~emain prayerful and faith filled.
M~ust never ignore the Architect of whom created life's puzzle
S~hifting all elements of sand in place from day to day.
(To those who will receive)
Vicissitudes- Ups and Downs
Contest Title: Build Your Own Sand
I have been a Christian for many years,
Hiding behind the mad poet has drenched me with tears
For I am a sinner the chief of them all
Writing poetry that has made me feel appalled
I have coveted, lied, hated and stole
Indulged in adultery with an innocent sole
I have broken my family, and now live in separate homes
While writing perversions of my conquests in poems
The thing that worries me, is that I feel nothing at all
This is what scares Sidney. C Hall
I see the ten commandments almost all broken
Save for killing no words of remorse that are spoken
Am I destined to a life burning in hell?
As part of the masses with speeches that make heads swell
Denying God and not seeking his Grace
Awaiting the day to say “I have no excuse,” to his face
Or believing a lie that there is no forgiveness
And just going along my ungodly business
Ladies and Gentleman my soul is in turmoil
Sin runs through my veins causing my blood to boil
I say to myself Sid you need to change,
Then the next minute something take me out of range
But I feel nothing, so how can this scare me
If I feel nothing , why is fear in hell, I see
Could this be God preparing my final years
I hope and pray soaked in tears
He is the only King who touched my soul.
In his arms, I found my self as whole.
He pulls me up when I was down.
He saves my soul in flaming lawn.
Through His Father, the Sovereign God.
He was sent to Earth with all His love.
By the womb of a woman with faith and trust,
A child was born ,brought a message from God.
He is the light that shines my way.
The inspiration to face every battle.
He is the strength when I am weak.
He is the closest friend I used to speak.
Whenever rain pour down from the sky.
I always thank God for sending a cry.
I used to remember the love that's divine.
For giving us His only begotten son, Jesus.
There is a place you can go that is full of only love and Warmth .
you will be surrounded by a light that shines from the Heavens ,
Sprinkles of Silver and Gold.
This place is filled with brilliant colors of Purple , vibrant Gold, all colors.
not one Color is less significant then another ,
for every color is equal here .
This place is surrounded by the beauty of different Flowers.
All flowers have significance here . No one Flower is better then another .
All Flowers are equal here .
It is important you know , you can cry here , and should cry as often as needed .
For the tears will cleanse your Soul and give the Flowers water to grow.
No one Tear is insignificant here , every tear has value and not one is better then another .
money holds no value , Where you live , what you own, has no significance here .
You will be surrounded by a beautiful light that shines from the Heavens .
A shining warm light will encircle you and allow nothing to hurt you .
Hate will be shed at the door light a old jacket of no use.
There is a place of beauty and Worth.
This place will not be found on Earth .
It is a place where no one person is better then another .
To be called ..
~ Grandma is a Honor ~
I have been blessed with 4 Grandchildren
~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb " He is God's Angel ~
~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~
For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
Time passed another gift to see
we are " Mickes" and Loved
Our Dad held the title in Baseball
~ that's how we roll ~
those children are Grandmas hero's
The Irish they love big and Family is everything
The brothers will protect the beautiful sister
~ as many lads will be calling ~
Every time my Grandson hits a home run
There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand
It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs
~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
either baseball or Art ~ you shall find your gift given
These children have been blessed~
~ a beauty to hard to describe
If you think not ~~ Take a look at the Mom
That girl can stop Traffic
after raising three and still~
"Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "
May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell
I never knew following dreams could be this lonely,
But up on the hill, looking back, thank God I'm not the old me.
If the tears will fall, let them be;
I believe this is God's plan, follow your dreams.
I am the hypocritical Christian.
I say I follow Christ,
But I'm still consumed by my demons.
I go to church on Sunday,
But I refuse to invite someone back.
I want to serve on mission,
But I'm too afraid to act.
They think I read The Bible,
But I just fall asleep in it.
They think I'm positivity and smiles,
But underneath I'm death and addictions.
They think I'm clean and pure,
But I'm broken and mistaken.
I say I'm not worthy of His love,
But Jesus will never let me be forsaken.
I pray long prayers,
But inside they're empty repetition.
It might look as if my faith is strong,
But my core is too easily shaken.
I say the things I'm supposed to say,
But don't follow His actions or obey.
I speak the truth the church wants to hear,
But deep inside on matters I don't know what to believe.
I walk in shame as if I'm not good enough
To be loved by God and saved through Christ,
But there is nothing I could ever do to earn His peace;
It's a free gift.
Now forgiven, changed, and released.
Thank You God,
Thank You Jesus,
Thank You Holy Spirit!
In Jesus' Holy Name,
Fighting mid the strong and bold,
His eye and blade were keen;
Marching like a thund'ring storm
On foes of Faith, his queen.
Now returned in victory
Upon his mighty bay,
Set he off to Langley Tow'r
Her summons to obey.
"John the Squire," the footman called,
And held the oaken door;
Faith, it seemed, had gleaming eyes
Like never once before.
"John! 'tis good to see thee hale,"
The queen exclaimed, and rose:
Tales have sped to Langley's gates
Of many broken bows."
"God has saved me whole and well,
By prayers, I ween, of thee;
Tell me please, my lady Queen
What service I may be."
Saying thus, the squire bowed
And doffed his burnished helm;
Struck in awe by Faith, his love,
The queen of Arthur's realm.
"Gilbert saith," rehearsed the queen,
"That deeds of thee are done
Greater yet than those of Wat
Or even Henry's son."
Tears bedecked her youthful face,
And glistened in the light;
John the Squire, as she had hoped,
Had done her favour right.
"Nay!" the humble squire cried,
"This word is not so true!
How could I, the meanest squire,
Perform the deeds they do?"
"Hush!" It was a firm command;
"I'll hear these lies no more;
Kneel before me, Squire John,
A knight shall leave the door."
Down before the queen he knelt,
He pledged his knighthood true;
Swore her ev'ry small command
With cheerful heart to do.
From his side she drew his sword,
She struck the accolade;
"Thus the greatest knight," she said,
"Is from a squire made."
From her hand the sword did fall,
It clashed upon a stone:
"John, if battle claimed thy life,
How could I be alone?"
"God has prospered all my ways;
My Queen, I praythee, cease!
Soon these wars shall claim our foes,
And Britain be in peace."
Faith remained there by her throne,
With light upon her hair;
Not one maid of Camelot
Was even half so fair.
"God be with thee evermore,"
She bravely said at last;
"Guard and keep thee from the foe
Until the very last."
John the Knight farewell did bid,
And swiftly rode away:
When the wars were hammered out,
He'd be a king in May.
For the Famous Art contest. Inspired by the painting "The Accolade" -1901 by Edmund Blair Leighton.
Heather will have to copy and paste this url in a web browser, the rest of you can use the links in About Poem.
--Your Persona, Captures Elegance,
Your Heart, Values At Top Rate,
Your Soul, Priceless, GODS LOve--