Lord, I have a confession to make
About the trials I'm going through.
I keep trying to hang on to them,
Instead of turning them over to you.

I finally turned them over, today.
For, they were just too much to bear.
It was then I saw the scratches,
From the claw marks I'd left there.

I didn't know I was holding so tight
To the problems that racked my brain,
Until I saw the claw marks, there,
And I knew it was time for a change.

When you're ready to give your problems up,
Don't dig in and keep holding on.
Erase the claw marks from them all.
Turn them over to the Father and the Son.


© 2002 by Claytia Doran




I got very upset, today.
My stress went through the roof.
Not only did I want answers,
I needed to see the proof.

I let someone get the best of me.
I didn't even put up a fight.
I think I know what happened, though.
My halo was on too tight.

It must have blurred my vision.
For, I can only see what's right.
Someone should have told me
That my halo was on too tight.

I've always tried to do my best
And keep my faith in sight.
But, in doing this, I need to see
That my halo's on just right.


© 2002 by Claytia Doran




I have dreams and aspirations.
I wanted to make something of myself.
But, if you want to be someone,
Just try being yourself.

I always wanted to be someone
And hold my head up proud.
I'd like to know I've touched someone.
I want to stand out in a crowd.

I want people to remember me
And say, "Oh, she's so nice."
I want them to remember my name,
Like they do Helen Steiner Rice.

I don't want to be forgotten,
Swept away like dust on a shelf.
But, if you want to be someone,
Just try being yourself.


© 2002 by Claytia Doran




As you go about your daily chores
And the anger comes and goes,
Try not to feed that anger.
For, what you feed grows.

I've often heard it said
That what man reaps he sows.
So, be careful of rotten seeds.
For, what you feed grows.

Rotten seeds come out of nowhere,
Scattering the way the wind blows;
Sometimes, landing on the purest heart.
But remember, what you feed grows.

Choose all your thoughts wisely.
For, no matter what, God knows.
Thoughts plant a seed in your heart
And what you feed grows.


© 2002 by Claytia Doran



People often talk the talk;
Their speeches loud and clear.
But, speeches are forgotten.
Yet, one kind word is dear.

Speeches ramble on forever.
They're saying the same old thing.
But, speeches are forgotten.
Yet, one kind word can sing.

You talk and talk about nothing.
Too many words jumble the brain.
Speeches are soon forgotten.
Yet, one kind word eases pain.

Your speeches will be forgotten,
Ten years on down the road.
Yet, one kind word will blossom
And ease another's load.


© 2002 by Claytia Doran



We walk by them every day.
Yet, we pretend not to see
The dirty clothes, the matted hair;
A soul that needs set free.

We walk by them and whisper
About what an awful shame;
How sad that they are homeless.
But, without Jesus, we'd be the same.

Are you lost and homeless,
Without Jesus in your heart?
Are you living on streets of sin,
Where begging takes a part?

Or, are you one who walks on by,
Ignoring the homeless and poor?
Are you the one who's homeless,
Yet knocking on Heaven's door?


© 2002 by Claytia Doran

"If it follows me home, can I keep it?
Can I, Mama? Can I?"
How many kids have spoken these words
As they begged and pleaded 'can I'?

I imagine Jesus praying to God,
"Father, if they follow me home, can I keep them?
I promise I'll take care of them.
But first, I must go out and seek them.

I'll show them just how much I care.
I'll feed them with Your word
And, if they follow me home, can I keep them?"
This is what I imagine God heard.

So, like the sheep follows the shepherd,
We follow Jesus towards salvation.
We followed him home and he kept us.
Now, we must spread it to the Nation.

© 2003 by Claytia Doran
 


 

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