Long Forgiveness Poems
Long Forgiveness Poems. Below are the most popular long Forgiveness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Forgiveness poems by poem length and keyword.
I am YOUR Miracle--
Lord
i am
so unworthy
I AM unfit
And oh, Lord
I am unfit to live;
Full of sin and shame;
Lord I'm so unfit to live;
But I come to give;
What I have to give;
I now live
For you
i am
so unworthy but Lord I belong to you;
I Am
chosen I am forgiven
Filthy am I
Dirty sinner
Filthy I am
Lord
i am
so unworthy
I AM unfit
And oh, Lord
I am unfit to live;
Full of sin and shame;
Lord I'm so unfit to live;
Filthy dirty am I but yet I am Lord God your
Miracle
Lord I didn't believe in miracles;
Until you made me one of those;
While in my sins and shames you've changed my name;
Now you've made me yours;
Now I'm your child;
Been forgiven now I'm whole;
Guess now I'm gonna dance awhile;
Lord I didn't believe in miracles;
Until you made me one of those;
While in my sins and shames you've changed my name;
Now you've made me yours;
Now I'm your child;
I am YOUR Miracle--
9/25/05
when I look to the cross
I see my life's not all at a loss
I see all the things to gain
a life free from guilt
free from shame
when I look at the cross
I know in times of brokenness
I was not to blame
Jesus was crucified
and died
so he could be by our side
our Guardian through all of life to come
a life where gods' will be done
no matter what life may bring
when we look to the cross we can sing
lifes situations can try to crush us on every side
life can be cruel and tough
but we have peace we have hope
we have assurance when to the
cross we look. Amen
For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.
1 Peter 2:24
"He himself bore our sins" in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; "by his wounds you have been healed." NIV?
Hebrews 12:2
Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.
To be tried is to live,
And to repent to forgive.
Now is our time to prove,
To be healed and made true.
Not feeling worthy of love,
Dying in addiction’s clutch?
The Savior’s hands are around,
Working, until we are unbound.
It’s very brutal and rough,
To not feel strong enough,
To allow ourselves to strive,
To grow up until we thrive.
Abuse, turmoil and pain,
Keep us trapped in Satan’s game.
We need healing, physically, emotionally,
Mentally, spiritually and socially.
To partake of Christ’s fruits,
We must bear His life in us,
To tree from roots.
Herein are the gospel tools.
When we let the worst of us,
Get the best of us,
Our tribulation paves the way,
For greater need to obey.
Then with greatest urgency,
Christ comes and makes us free.
In descends the dove of peace,
As love from above to fully increase.
I stand by God’s well of blessings daily
As He invites me to enjoy them tremendously.
There He assures me of His eternal presence wondrously
With His providence and protection always covering me truly!
I draw living waters from God’s well of salvation
Whenever I lose my joy because of pride and transgression.
There I remember Christ’s sacrificial work for my regeneration
With His bruises and wounds for my forgiveness and justification!
I stay freely at God’s well of contentment
As He welcomes me to His satisfying replenishment.
There He comforts my soul, so weary of worldly entertainment
With His caring instruction and admonition that cure my envy’s ailment!
I desire to get near God’s well of revival
Whenever I’m discouraged at my earthly survival.
There He empowers me to cling to Him for His approval
With His strength and might to prepare me for Christ’s arrival!
I linger joyfully around God’s well of refreshing
As He meets me to commune with Him in His nourishing.
There He listens to my plight, answers my queries, never rushing
With His enlightening wisdom and correcting counsel worth cherishing!
I quench my emptiness along God’s well of abundance
Whenever I’m impoverished out of vain struggles and fleshly compliance.
There He enriches me with trials, filled with promises of His ready guidance
With His Word of hope and cheer, polishing my faith to shine in His brilliance!
I rest beside God’s well of peace and calmness
As He greets me after labouring in His kingdom’s business.
There He offers to me triumph’s sweetness in fellowship*’s closeness
With His blessings and rewards to my faithfulness thru His loving kindness!
*1John 1:3 ... Truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ.
December 15, 2018
Dearest Ann , today the world completes a soft, golden circle 'round the sun, and in that warmth, your name repeats as if the stars know what you have done: Loved me through the fires,
Kissed me through storms,
Held me when I broke
and rebuilt me to what I am.
Ten years, my love, and still I learn how you fold forgiveness into fire,
how your silence sings, how your eyes burn with a holy, undying desire.
You have bled and bloomed,
You're grace in motion, a garden that grew in droughts of emotion.
You are the moonlight that unbuttons the dark, the ache in my chest when we’re apart, the hush in the house that feels like art, the echo of God’s own beating heart.
Your breath is a hymn I rise to each dawn, your skin—like silk where my soul is drawn.
I have watched you weep and not wither, watched you laugh with pain still in your chest, watched you give more when there was little left,
my love, in every way, you will always be the one.
Ann, if I could make this moment a rose,
I would press it in time where no one knows.
If I could write this love on your skin, you would feel how deep it goes within.
So on your birthday, beloved Ann, let me unwrap your soul tonight: not just with hands, but with reverence rare, to honor the fire in how you care.
To thank you with touch, with eyes, with breath, for every “yes” you gave through death.
Through heartache, hope, and holy repair, you stayed. You stayed. And you are still here.
Let me love you slow like rainfall dreams, let me hold your name in sacred streams, let my words bless your life with love that you are not just a wife—you’re my life.
So happy birthday, my Queen, my flame, my every whisper wrapped in our name.
Sweet Ann, the years may come, but this truth remain:
if I were born again, I would find only you.
Happy birthday my love,
Your Roger.
Mother, I pray for your forgiveness as it was me,
I had to let you go and it never leaves my mind;
It was me who made the decision to set you free,
I was the one they came seeking for papers to sign.
There was nothing I could do to change your fate,
I would have done anything even given my own life;
The decision was so difficult and it could not wait,
My heart was stabbed with a blood-soaked knife.
With each gasping, breath you took in this world,
I kept asking is there nothing that can be done;
Oh I hated what had to be, it still twirls and whirls,
I asked the Lord why, why did I have to be the one.
Can you forgive me mother, for letting you go,
You were so kind and sweet and I loved you so.
____________________________
September 24, 2015
Poetry/Modern Sonnet/It Was Me, Mother
Copyright Protected, ID 09-7117-40-24
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
For the Standard contest, Forgiveness,
sponsor, Craig Cornish, Judged 2015
Fourth Place
I'm so sorry I brought tears to your eyes,
each drop has grievously pierced my heart.
I wish to ease the pain each tear implies,
your sadness is tearing my world apart.
I lived the dream when you were by my side,
unaware my flirting was hurting you.
I didn't think it was cheating till you cried,
and l realized what I'd put you through.
When you became my wife and shared my name,
I never imagined this day would come.
Devastated by guilt, I'm racked with shame,
how could I possibly have been so dumb?
Although there's no excuse for what I've done,
let my kisses dry those tears one by one.
(Sonnet)
04,27,2019
I was in a cave and my best friend and I were trapped with just one way out,
And there was a tiger,
And my best friend said lie down and we’ll hide,
So we hid,
And we were under a grey flannel blanket,
And my friend said, “Keep Still”.
And so we laid there half asleep for hours,
Waiting to be devoured.
And my cell phone rung and I knew it was my wife,
And I threw the cell phone hoping to distract the tiger,
The tiger heard the cell phone,
Went to the cell phone,
And followed our scent.
I laid as still as I could.
I laid without fear, but also without the absence of fear.
I laid waiting.
And the tiger went to my friend and began to lick him.
And he began to whimper,
And I began to delight in his whimper, for it was not me that the tiger was licking.
And I felt the hot breath of the tiger, and was comforted that his hunger in that
moment was not for me.
And I laid hypnotized by the hot breath of the tiger, mesmerized by the tiger’s
comforting touch.
But still I did not rejoice,
I simply laid still.
And the tiger began to chew,
And as the tiger chewed I heard my friend whimper,
But still, I laid still, waiting in hope, waiting in silent rejoicing, for my opportunity
to escape.
And I heard my friend stop whimpering,
And I felt the hot breath of the tiger beginning to fade,
And I looked toward the side of my eye at the tiger beginning to feed,
And I jumped up and grabbed my cell phone and bounded for the exit.
In the end, when the tiger comes haunting,
We are often neither good nor evil, strong nor weak, courageous or cowardly,
In the end, when the tiger comes haunting,
We are simply slaves of the instinct to survive.
And so I hope in God’s freedom.
I hope in God’s freedom for me, my friend, and even the tiger.
Not because we are so good as to deserve it or so evil as to default to it,
But rather because God is neither like me, my friend, or the tiger,
But like something so sublime as to love us all.
Often, I fall to the ground in anguish and burst into tears,
not for lack of strength, but to ask for forgiveness;
seldom, I venture down a narrow and unlit road,
fearing the assailant is waiting for my innocent blood!
I call upon the Lord of infinite kindness and mercy
to keep those bad-willed men off my treacherous trail;
how I want to scrutinize the awesome universe
and name a few planets with careful observance!
And although I am unable to spot and discovered any,
with the naked eye: I seek them more than the Holy Grail!
Often, I question with disbelief how fate makes me broach,
affecting my emotions and destabilizing them to incur
dread when the heavy tread of footsteps approach;
are they those of a ghost or is someone at the door?
Not all men are evil and can boast of a massive wealth,
being rich is the privilege of the few, others only dream of it;
I've been assigned a formidable task which requires no stealth:
to make most of this existence, not indulging in excessive guilt!
I walked into the shaded forest
seeking comfort from my fears.
On a blanket of soft green moss,
I lay down and shed my tears.
I gathered a handful of tiny flowers.
among the bees, who seemed at play.
Was then I saw the flowers wither,
the beautiful blooms of my nosegay.
Bees stopped buzzing; birds flew away.
The tiny flowers, I looked down to see,
in my hand they had begun to die.
"I meant no harm, God, please forgive me."
I frowned upon their fading colors,
as in my hand they continued to wilt.
"God, I've destroyed your creations.
I'm plagued with remorse and guilt."
Torn with grief, on the ground I fell.
In solemn prayer, I bowed my head low.
I heard buzzing; birds sang once more.
Beside me knelt a fawn and mother doe.
She nudged me with her velvet nose.
Beams of light reached through the trees.
They fell upon a patch of tiny flowers.
"God, did you put them here for me?"
Gently, I touched each fragile bloom.
I inhaled their sweet perfumed scent.
I understood His merciful message.
Forgiveness for sins is what He meant.
They were to me, lilies of the field.
A reminder from my Heavenly Father.
That I need not worry over my fears.
He is with me, and he calls me 'daughter.'