Advertise Your Business Or Website At HomewithGod.com

 
 
 
 
 
 
A Real Man
 

Men are of two kinds, and he
Was of the kind I'd like to be.
Some preach their virtues, and a few
Express their lives by what they do.
That sort was he. No flowery phrase
Or glibly spoken words of praise
Won friends for him. He wasn't cheap
Or shallow, but his course ran deep,
And it was pure. You know the kind.
Not many in a life you find
Whose deeds outrun their words so far
That more than what they seem they are.
 
There are two kinds of lies as well:
The kind you live, the ones you tell.
Back through his years from age to youth
He never acted one untruth.
Out in the open light he fought
And didn't care what others thought
Nor what they said about his fight
If he believed that he was right.
The only deeds he ever hid
Were acts of kindness that he did.
 
What speech he had was plain and blunt.
His was an unattractive front.
Yet children loved him; babe and boy
Played with the strength he could employ,
Without one fear, and they are fleet
To sense injustice and deceit.
No back door gossip linked his name
With any shady tale of shame.
He did not have to compromise
With evil-doers, shrewd and wise,
And let them ply their vicious trade
Because of some past escapade.
 
Men are of two kinds, and he
Was of the kind I'd like to be.
No door at which he ever knocked
Against his manly form was locked.
If ever man on earth was free
And independent, it was he.
No broken pledge lost him respect,
He met all men with head erect,
And when he passed, I think there went
A soul to yonder firmament
So white, so splendid and so fine
It came almost to God's design.
 
Edgar Guest
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Special Love
 
Special heart I love him so
He fills me with such pride
Such tenderness I always find
When I look into his eyes
 
Days of sunshine days of rain
His beauty does remain
This gentleness I always feel
Whenever there is pain
 
What an echo in my life
His words forever near
Telling me how much he cares
The joy forever here
 
Captured in this life for me
The softness of his love
This my gift so heaven sent
This peace my soul made of
 
Smiling laughing as we go
Spending all the years
Precious moments in my life
This sacredness revered
 
Could not reach a higher place
To share such special light
My friend my spirit in my soul
His wisdom bound so tight
 
 Francine Pucillo
©2001 used with permission
 
 
To read more of Francine's poems click on stars!.
 
 
 
 
 
 
THE MAN IN THE MIRROR
 

When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day,
Just go to a mirror and look at yourself,
And see what that man has to say.
 
For it isn't your father or mother or wife,
Who judgment upon you must pass;
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one starring back from the glass.
 
He's the fellow to please, never mind all the rest.
For he's with you clear up to the end,
And you've passed the most dangerous, difficult test
If the man in the glass is your friend.
 
You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years.
And get pats on the back as you pass,
But your final reward will be the heartaches and tears
If you've cheated the man in the glass.
 
Unknown
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
WHEN JESUS LOOKS
 

 
  When Jesus looks upon my life,
  What picture does He see.
  Does He see His own reflection,
  Or does He just see me.
  Does He see His likeness,
  The product of His hand.
  Or just another Christian,
  Who never took a stand.
  Does He see a child of God,
  A child that He made free.
  Living life to honor Him,
  Or does He just see me.
 
  What about the other folks,
  I meet along the way.
  Do I show them Jesus,
  To brighten up their day.
  When someone looks into my eyes,
  Can they truly see.
  That calm and gentle peace of God,
  That dwells inside of me.
  When I reach out and shake a hand,
  Is He right there in my grip.
  Can they feel that strength from God,
  That steadies when I slip.
  When folks are in my presence,
  Do they know His Spirit's there.
  Can they see that He's the one,
  Who guides me everywhere.
 
  When other people think of me,
  What is on their mind.
  Do they think of Jesus Christ,
  So gentle and so kind.
  I try to be like Jesus,
  Every single day.
  Spreading love and kindness,
  All along my way.
  I'm afraid that I have failed,
  I could not pass the test.
  Deep inside my heart I know,
  I haven't done my best.
 
  I have had to fight my flesh,
  Since the day that I was born.
  It's always causing trouble,
  And being such a thorn.
  That's why His Spirit dwells in me,
  He's helping me to learn.
  In every situation,
  Where I need to turn.
  He knew I'd never pass the test,
  That's why He took my place.
  He gave His life to save my soul,
  He suffered my disgrace.
 
  Now I try to be like Him,
  I must represent Him well.
  So other folks will want His gift,
  And turn their backs on hell.
  Other folks should see the joy,
  That Christ has given me.
  They should want to have it too,
  Especially since it's free.
  They should begin to ask me,
  What is it they must do.
  Just how it is they go about,
  Getting Jesus too.
  Then I get to tell them,
  This wondrous gift is free.
  It only takes a humble heart,
  A prayer on bended knee.
 
  Someday when I'm face to face,
  With the Lord who made me free.
  Will He see His own reflection,
  Or will He just see me.
 
by Chick Velasco
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
         
 
 
 
 
         
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The Painting:
The painting is ©Elaine Vance Shaw and used with her permission.
  Thank you Ms. Shaw!
Ms. Shaw's Logo to:  elaine@backofthemoonart.com
 
 
 
 
 
MUSIC: "YOU'RE THE WIND BENEATH MY WINGS"
 
 
page by granidee
September 18, 2003
 
 
 
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take,
but by the moments that take our breath away.
 
 
 
 
 
If God brings you to it ----
- he will bring you through it