Best Ministration Poems
Before He was born in this earth,
Angel announced Christ Jesus' birth;
When He was born, a tiny boy,
Angels declared it - Oh! What joy!
He grew up, not with much élan,
But in favour with God and man;
After fasting, came temptation,
Then came angels' ministration;
Three and a half years of preaching,
With His Love to people reaching;
Then He went to Gethsamane,
Praying there in deep agony,
An angel came down from heaven,
Just, in order, Him to strengthen;
He hung on the cross sinister,
No angels came to minister;
An eternity of silence
Followed His affliction intense;
On the third day morning, they came,
Christ's resurrection to proclaim;
On the mount after forty days,
He ascended 'midst angels' praise;
Right from birth till His ascension,
In Christ's life, they had a mention.
Ev'n today, angels are singing,
With His praise, heavens are ringing
He sends them down to protect us,
When we choose to serve Lord Jesus.
08/08/18
fewer …
stars there are
in the heart of heaven
than the myriad ripples of brine that
gently placed me here -
tender tongues of tide that tossed me
and polished my bark away
shaped me smooth from jagged -
turned from beast, to beauty …
courses ago -
I was loosed from a tree
and lost to the sevens in a gale -
sundered from all I’d known
yet …
my journey was ordered
as all things are
made divine not by substance
but by ministration
and singularity …
for the universe, entire,
holds no other creation like me
the countless moments
and patient, boundless energy
that my trek required
would never have been wasted
on the unremarkable …
and though one sojourn has ended
something awaits
that is more infinite, even
than waves …
OR suns …
possibility.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, August 12, 2023
( photo taken 8/1/23 by Gregory R Barden, Ferry Beach, Scarborough, ME )
A Chosen Generation
“9 But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; ” 1 Peter 2:9 NKJV
We’re all God’s children;
A Chosen Generation;
A royal priesthood for the Father—
A holy and special relation.
God has gifted us the talents
To represent Him here;
He’s called us out of darkness;
His marvelous light to share.
We are all equipped for ministry;
We’re God’s ambassadors.
The Devil would like you to believe differently;
It tells us in God’s scriptures.
We are here to serve others—
This Chosen Generation.
When we’re connected to the Lord,
We’ll gladly join His ministration.
By serving God and others
Our blessings will abound.
Great satisfaction and joy,
In such serving can be found.
Whether you preach a sermon
Or bake a pie for a stranger,
Both are important to God,
And considered His ministerial labor.
This Chosen Generation is important
In the finishing of God’s harvest.
Complex or simple labor,
By all must be confessed.
We must all work together—
Both the young and old.
It’s through us God reaches others,
To bring forth saints of gold.
© Copyright 2012 Maureen LeFanue
www.maureenlefanue.com
There are only so many poems you can read
Then your heart just starts to bleed
Because you still have that burning need
You're trying so hard your soul to feed
Your husband is so far away
Your night is longer than your day
You wonder if God can hear you pray
Or if always alone you’re meant to stay
The words just do not come out right
You dread the long and lonely night
The joy in your life has turned to blight
Your choice? To die or to take flight
Then healing words appear on your screen…
That wash your heart and make you clean
You feel like to heaven you have been
A angel's ministration you have seen
That’s the charm of gifted poetry
Makes you live sheer ecstasy
Wipes from your heart the drudgery
Makes you taste eternity!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
(At the tomb)
I had some relationships outside marriage,
So I knew that the temple very religious,
Didn’t represent truth and love’s carriage,
Which seemed independent with impetus.
Love was within you, inside your heart,
And you were free to give it, your choice,
But that to make it into a law to impart,
Would only give you far louder of voice.
So I knew Jesus’ way was so much better,
Than life at the moment, rich edification,
Which quietly between me and my brother,
Got me down, made me need ministration.
So I gave the baton to Jesus partner, mum,
Determined society’s mind for Jesus’ right,
To live on in minds and in the hearts, tum,
To accentuate the poor as needy of height.
Father now journeys
into afterlife destination alone,
October 7th, 2020 mid afternoon
with Earthlings ministration did attone
where night envelops his lovely bones
rendered devoid of any groan
courtesy Roxanol (morphine)
and Ativan finding him prone
to experience painlessness, and no
his dying wish, plus last will and testament
won't include burial and/or headstone
cuz, he wants to integrate and did intone
cremation as ecologically friendly option
scattering ashes to parts known
someday... yours truly will too
succumb to the dead zone.
Stark reminder to live fully an urgent yen
to live life fullest between now and when...
ever yours truly exits
stage door left, perhaps ten
twenty, thirty... eighty, ninety, one hundred...
additional orbits around sun
a remarkable human phenomenon
(me) courtesy mine burning ken
bequeaths modest minute man
near accursed immortality longevity totaling even
score of years counting (crows)
and father time among his brethren.
Distress unavoidable which mortality doth bring
nevertheless, tis impossible mission
to eradicate pain and suffering, which doth sting
consolation assuages grief, viz prayer
and buttressing coping with spiritual wing
profound absence augments biting zing.
Biological reproduction begetting offspring
lodging within uterine abode
subsequent in utero development
regarding accretion embryonic node
biological algorithm doth automatically encode,
nevertheless longevity invariably affected
no doubt courtesy lifestyle mode.
Random crapshoot luck of the draw offspring born
genetic blueprints also decree existence transient
parents emphatically teach progeny
got no choice must inform
daughter(s), and son(s) ineluctably forsworn
demise bound with birth certificate presents horn
of dilemma conscious the next generation
granted only so many Earth orbitz around sun.
Once grim reaper deftly
communicates I must bid adieu
eternal hasta la vista to kith and kin
please don't shed a tear for generic
germane admirable bad company crew
member, albeit healthy as an ox
never got the flu,
an atheist doubting thomas
though genealogy records
incorporate many a cynical Jew
at least one legendary antiestablishmentarian
gleaned within mine purview
shunned, ostracized and banished to Xando.
Everyone is intelligent
Of this, histories are reminiscent
You know something I don't
And I too have something to front
Then comes the flowery ideal of the idealist
To be straight-faced by the reality of the realist
And you wonder as you watch in mime
Whether you were born before or after your time
Some assert their point across
And soft spoken reason suffers loss
Some claim to be a voice for the voiceless
Claiming to air the point of the pointless
Some know how, others know what
Some have the world round and others flat
Some reside in the serenity of thought and deed
Others on the podiums of herald and creed
All these are the plenitude of God's Grace
Our striving comprehension is His Master ace
As we behold Him doing a new thing
One time a lifting shout, another a jingling ring
The greatest of a time may become a hazy memory
Or a legend commanding some unfaded glory
But all in all be not he that the enemy mildly sifts
When you hold back your ministration by your gifts.
K. Muitherero.
If you bear the best of intensions
Then fear not the malicious oppositions
For the case of Christ and Godliness is worth contention
Pursue it heart and soul without concession
For eternity trumps lifetimes in proportion
Seek yourself here and hereafter a worthwhile portion
Endurance against times and seasons
While opting out squeezes itself among your decisions
Is the mocker of every man who claimed a vision
What then is this aura and power among the nations
That subdues men into passing time and abdicating mission
Little achievement but endless collosal celebration
We work hard for the money, severance and pension
And many still feel fruitless at the day of their ascension
How things could have been be the lingering question
If all the lost time and energy took a meaningful direction
"Undared" adventure and "unshown" affection
Unrendered service and hence nothing worth the mention
It's the wrong exercising of rights we tend to with passion
Leading in the following of trends and perceived fashion
Our will we surrender and ourselves we place on auction
Even the freedom we claim is subject to instruction
Try God and see yourselves burn and bury your frustrations
And have His Spirit to your day-to-day ministration
K. Muitherero.