Thoughts/Poems

I went to a movie at a local church.  They were showing, “God’s Not Dead”.  I was very impressed with the how the movie addressed so many issues in a positive way.  It was about a young man and a professor that had a debate about God.  It was also about other people who were questioning their faith.  It had an interesting mix of actors and music. If you haven’t seen it yet, and are looking for some Christian drama and entertainment, along with a terrific message,  watch the movie, “God’s Not Dead”.


 

I have written some poems in the past, thought I would share a few.


 

This poem was written for my mom after she passed away, when my sister asked if I could write a poem for her funeral bulletin.  I am one of nine kids.  My mom had a lot of trials in life.  She read the Bible, and tried to find comfort there.  She had so many hardships from her own childhood,  her marriage, her kids, and her life.

She experienced a lot of loss.  Her two sons passed away as infants. She always thrived on children, and the wonder and excitement of new life.  I miss her very much, but I bet God has wiped away her every tear, and she now knows and understands fully why she experienced the things in her life.  She is with Christ, and that is the best place to be! To live is Christ, to die is gain!

MOM’S LOVE

 Love lives here.

Amidst the chaos and the fear.

It lives in a woman’s heart

Who though far, is very near.

She held the babies that cried,

And comforted children who sighed.

She had troubles and sorrows,

but those she denied,

So she could give love to those who cried.

She always defended her own,

though right or wrong she’d never disown.

She would correct and reprimand,

but did so with a loving hand.

She gave love freely, and showed patience,

grace, and love,

She received the love she gave from heaven above.

God entrusted her with many children,

to establish them in the truth to find heaven.

She read and searched God’s Holy Word,

And found salvation and was assured

that her children too, would seek God’s face,

and be set free from sin and find His grace.

She used her angel wings to reach great height,

To bring her request into God’s great light,

At God’s very feet, she laid her children there,

And put them all in His precious care.

Now she’s in God’s arms, walking with Him in the garden,

I know she’s safe with her everlasting guardian,

Who is now wiping away her tears

and casting away all her fears.


God gave me this poem about the woman who sat at Jesus’ feet as I put myself in her shoes:

Crying and weeping

at the feet of Jesus,

Convicted by the Holy Spirit,

My sins I confess.

What aweful things I’ve done,

Deceived by sin,

Grieved by my wickedness

born from within!

Others in disgust

are pointing,

while with tears,

Jesus’  feet I’m annointing.

With a heavy heart,

I can’t look at his face,

but I came here

to seek and find grace.

I look up

to see his pity,

I know I made Him sad,

but Jesus isn’t angry.

Instead, He welcomes me

to draw near!

He helps me to my feet,

and tells me not to fear.

He tells me I’m forgiven,

and smiles at me!

I know that because of Him

I’m totally set free!

I love my Savior deeply!


This poem was written at a fire lookout in the Payette National Forest.  I was pretty lonely, and wasn’t really sure I was where I was suppose to be.

I’ve been up on a mountain

breathing clean air;

I’ve been down in the valley,

In the deepest despair.

From drinking clean water

at pure mountain springs,

to drowning in sludge,

and thinking about things,

Am I where you’ve led me,

my Shepherd, my guide?

Or am I wandering aimless

without you by my side?

Well, Jesus, please lead me

beside those still waters.

Give me green pastures,

And a  sky full of stars,

For I am so broken

Of you, I’ve lost sight.

I need your forgiveness

to make it all right.

I’ve built a fortress

of sin, shame, and guilt.

Let it all crumble

For it’s not what you’ve built.


I wrote this poem just thinking of how I wished God could make me something else, less of a failure, more perfect, like Him. I wrote it while I was a fire lookout in a remote cabin in the Payette National Forest:

Things aren’t always

what they seem,

take a piece of wood,

simple and green,

You can carve it

into something beautiful,

use glue and nails,

and make it useful.

We don’t have

to be what we are.

I know a master builder,

a carpenter.

He’s ready to take

what you possess,

And make something

better than you could guess.

His hands can carve

a life eternal,

Out of just

a simple mortal.


When I was looking for Christmas presents at the last minute, a few years ago, I was trying to buy American.  My pholosopy was to keep the dollar home with our country in such bad shape financially. I was getting frustrated with reading the labels, and seeing everything was made somewhere else, so I wrote this one:

Twas the Night Before Christmas Shopping

‘Twas the night before Christmas,

When I ran to the store

To shop for some presents,

With visions of gifts galore.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear?

Behind the aisles stocked with merchandise-

Why, a little old lady, so dear!

She created such a clatter,

When to a salesman she cried,

“Look where all this stuff is made.

It’s printed on the side!”

As the salesman put his finger aside of his nose,

He said with a grin,

“Yes, China, is where its all made,

But that’s not a sin.”

The little old Lady winked,

As she said it again-

“Yes, China-it is no sin,

But, I’ll tell you why I don’t buy foreign,

I worked hard for a paycheck

When I was a youth.

I bought American products,

And that is the truth.

It kept our economy growing,

And provided employment.

Why, I remember when

We even had some left over for enjoyment.

How will our country progress

When other countries make the things we buy?

Haven’t we provided enough for the world?

Let’s invest in the U.S.A., she said with a sigh.”

So she walked out of Walmart,

It could have been Kmart or Sears,

As I solemnly said to myself,

“She speaks with the wisdom of years!”

I too walked out the door

With no presents that night,

And I declared with a smile,

You know, that old woman is right!

Dawn Hauff

12/2009

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