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Church melodies wafted sweet and Holy
Entering my heart in earliest life
Joys song replaced with the melancholy
Forgetting grace, my mind was filled with strife
But Jesus, You're the One who planted faith
Though sorrowed doubt cut deeply like a knife
My robust spirit withered as a wraith
The fears ensued, I could no longer cope
You then employed Your skillful Holy lathe
Cutting away the lies till I had hope
Your tools are sometimes painful to employ
You molded me and pulled me up the slope
I am now yours, I'm not a broken toy
One day I'll stand upon Your Holy Hill
Your faithfulness, my Lord, fills me with joy
Glorious King, I long to do Your will
Filled with Your Holy Spirit, as a dove
Above life's storms You whisper "Peace be still."
I snuggle neath' Your pure and gentle love
Sweet melodies waft through my soul with grace
Sometimes I dream they're echoes from above
I seek You as a bride her Husband's face
Whose waited long and watches at the gate
Your love for me will never be displaced
Written for the 'Jesus' Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Regina McIntosh
Posted June 9, 2021