Those who grew up singing hymns may notice similarities between those songs of yore and the writing style I adopted for this poem. I don’t like singing hymns but I cannot deny the talent and the Spirit-filled way in which those writers were able to convey a message of truth to a lost and dying world.
The Withered Hand Retracts
If Christ is all that all men need
To cleanse their hearts of sin
Then ask yourself “Why tarry we
In His freedom to bring?”
Freedom is the heart-felt cry
With which the sinner pleads.
For it is Christ alone who breaks the chains,
And Christ who sets us free.
To each person is apportioned faith-
Some much, some almost none at all.
But to each also is given
The burden of the fall.
This weight so heavy, who can bear
The cost that it demands?
Put what little faith you have
Into His bloodied hands.
Sufficient grace alone is His
To disperse to whom He choose.
His will is that you be among
The sinners He won’t lose.
A love so strong it caused His death
And took Him to the cross,
That man whose love is great enough
That death set Him not at loss-
He will be the one in whom my faith
Is placed day after day,
For I know in Christ I am secure
Come trials though they may.
So wind or gale,
So stormy seas,
So hurricanes of might
Shall not usurp the rightful place
Of the King of Light.