The Book of My Life

My life is not an open book,

Like many a poet have commit,

I don't let just anyone look,

And read there whate'er is writ.

People few and far between

I trust thoroughly to gaze thereon,

And know my personal thoughts and dreams,

Of which I have writ upon.

The thoughts of my heart do I keep,

In the depths of my own soul,

Under strict lock and key,

In the depth of that hole.

The depth of that hole is great,

So great that none besides one,

Has dared enter thereat,

The key to my heart hath He won.

Because of His great triumph,

He hath well earned my trust,

And with me is he not gruff,

But with love nearby to bust!

He hath earned my love,

My devotion, 'tis true,

He's as gentle as a dove,

For Him anything I'd do.

No matter what I do,

T'will never compare,

With His act to make me new,

Art thou not aware?

Aware of His power,

Dost thou know of His might?

He is the great sower,

He is the light!

Love stories and poems,

Have always been writ,

But of the God who conforms,

Have few poets commit.

The reason for few I understand not,

For therein lies the greatest love story,

Better than romantic battle fought,

No matter the magnitude of glory.

For the story of Christ

And His undying love

That cost so great a price

From One so high above.

He was born of a virgin,

Then died on a tree,

He then rose again,

To give hope to you and to me.

Because of His demonstration,

Of His great love for me,

And His great act of salvation,

I now clearly see.

I see that the book of my life,

Was sinking in the sand,

And no matter the amount of strife,

I could not reach land.

I was sinking in fast,

When He stretched out His hand,

He brought me to the Rock, at last,

This was not the end!

The end, no, but the beginning, yes!

For now I was on Solid Ground,

Fertile, green and lush - the best!

Yes, Home I had found.

Now that I rest on firm ground,

I have found that although I am

Safe, sound, and secure all around,

And in the strong arms of the Lamb,

That I still have challenges,

Some harder than I think I can stand.

But He helps me thought by His graces,

And helps me to understand,

That no matter what I face,

No matter the size,

By God's great grace,

I can prevail.

Because of His mercies,

I am new every day,

And because of His strengths,

In His arms I will stay.

This Man has read my book,

Cover to cover,

But no matter how deep He looks,

He still loves me like a Father.

Every day I love him more,

But his love stays the same,

On His love do I soar,

Even on the winds of change.

The dedication to my volume,

There is no doubt about it,

I will inscribe to His Great Name,

Jesus Christ, the Beloved.

-Buttercup