Deserts No More

Velma Monday

3/24/04

 

 

I’ve just been in the desert

It was rough, and dry and long.

I couldn’t hear God’s voice,

I could not sing my song.

 

I tried to read His Word,

I tried to speak in prayer,

I had no words to say

I was sinking in despair.

 

Every now and then

He would throw to me a bone

He would show me very clearly

That I wasn’t all alone.

 

Then as soon as He appeared

He was gone again,

He’d shown a little mercy

I had felt a little rain.

 

It was enough to keep me going

For just a little while

Enough to let me know

One day again I’d smile.

 

Then all of a sudden

Like a rushing mighty wind

I felt His Spirit moving

Oh the joy that was within!

 

He came sweeping o’er me

He came in like a flood.

I was surrounded by His presence.

I was washed once more in His blood.

 

Now I’ll go on singing.

Now I’ve regained my song.

Oh, what joy awaits me yonder.

When I reach the heavenly throng.

 

For if this long, hot desert.

I’ve just been walking through,

Could be compared to our days on earth

And this joy to what’s beyond the blue.

 

 

But multiply it by ten thousand,

Or maybe much, much more.

What wonders are awaiting

When we reach sweet Heavens shore.

 

I can’t wait to get to see Him

To see His blessed face.

To be fulfilled by His mercy.

To understand His grace.

 

Oh what joy awaits us yonder

When we reach sweet Heavens shore.

For wandering days will be over.

We’ll walk in deserts no more.

_________

 

That Little Helpful Guy?

By Velma Monday

10/30/04

 

 

You know that little guy

On the computer screen?

Some days, more oft than not,

I wish he could not be seen.

 

He has his eyes that look too big

For that clip of a body of his.

He raises his eyebrows and scratches his head

As if he knows what I just said!

 

And then he does these flippy things

When my work I want to save.

Who is he to judge my stuff?

Who taught him how to behave?

 

I guess he’s supposed to be helpful.

Who made him anyway?

He makes me want to wad him up

And throw him clean away!!

 

I guess I could change him

To that dog, or the bouncing ball.

But then I think I’d miss him,

If I didn’t see him at all.

 

Even with his watchful eye

Upon my computer screen.

He’s not really very harmful.

He doesn’t even look mean.

 

He just makes me think I’m being watched,

With those big ol’ beady eyes.

Why did the inventor of this thing

Think I needed a spy?

 

Someone to look over my shoulder.

At every word I say.

Look, did you see him move his body

In that little disrespectful way?

 

You know, when he sways his belly

From this side, and then to that?

Oh, that little clippy man.

I think he needs a hat!

 

Because then he could pull it down over

His little beady eyes.

Or he could tip it at ladies.

You know, the way that makes them sigh?

 

He could be taught some manners.

If only I knew just how.

To re-program him to suit me,

I could make him curtsey or bow.

 

He could march up and down,

Each and every row.

He could examine each word with ease,

And act like he didn’t know.

 

He could act like he liked my writing!

He could act like the dust made him sneeze!

He could even be like a high flying act,

Upon a swinging trapeze!

 

He could have a bulbous big nose,

Like a circus clown!

Then he could be entertaining.

I wouldn’t mind having him around.

 

Oh, well! I guess I’ll keep him,

Just the way he is.

At least he keeps me company,

But these words I write are not his!!

________