Between God and I

We are "Born Again", and continually grow,
Always Searching, more Grace to know.
Never doubting His promise, as the Word proclaim,
Just a stepping stone here, A new home to gain!.

There is no middle ground on which to stand.
No time to slouch or fool around.
We are called to the fields, to plant His Word.
Tis the sweetest story ever heard.

To God be The Glory, as we labor hard,
To reach some soul, who's life is mired.
Trusting Him for direction's led,
and wisdom of the words that said.

Though the Harvest is white and laborer's few,
We jump right in, knowing what to do.
Standing on his promises, The story UN-folds,
As we see light! ahead, our Heavenly Goal.
written by: Isaac Wilson: To God be The Glory,
First published by: lulu,com

Winds of Persuasion

by Sunshinexpress
Wind blows free, in early spring.
Stimulates growth of living things;
We watch the Trees rock to and fro.
As Roots dig deep, in soil below:

The rain soon follow, and this we know,
Is a living cycle, as flowers grow.
A Child is born! a mother's prayers,
Is for guidance, against satan snares:

The Father jubilant, but yet aware,
of the drifting wind, this child must bear.
A Changing nation, and so disguised;
We search for answers, just to survive.

New hope we find, in God's own word,
encountering wisdom, Book of Proverbs;
As the whirlwind pass, we are promised peace,
The wicked no more, righteous never cease:

We gain this peace through faith and love,
As we trust in Jesus, our Father above.
The message here is to be aware, of satans snares;
And winds of persuasion, that you must bear.
Copyright © 2009 First published by: lulu,com

Grapes of Paradise

The move was sure to come, as family’s quarreled
Kentucky, neutral on civil wars fighting one another
To be a yank or reb supporter, meant looking down a rusty barrel
North or south, families split, most often some would travel.

It must have been a hard decision which side to follow,
Wagon trains to Arkansas, to Join the confederation, Or to remain hidden in Ninivia Hollow
Arkansas they came, The Keen’s, & Brummett congregation.

They crossed the mountains, they crossed the rivers
Across the delta, across the plains
Then chose to settle in the rolling hills
Terraced hillsides to plant their grain

Land development booming, virgin timber
Logging and farming, a trade they knew
Wild Grapes and Game along the Creek
So here they settled, and the settlement grew.

Down the creek there was The Wilson’s
Where travelers stopped to take a break.
A store provided your basic needs and more,
a Post Office established, The Town of Grape.

Time moves on, Tabernacles built,
Then a Log Church, where families met.
In wagons they came from all directions
Grape Chapel established, with no objections.

Times were hard, but we didn’t know it,
we lived off the land. plenty time to visit.
A community united, No intentional vice.
Forefathers now gone, Grapes of Paradise.
By Isaac Wilson

Grapes of Paradise E-Mail  "This is the day the Lord has made" "Oh Lord, Show me the path today, and give me the vision to see beyond the veil of darkness " "As You lead someone into this path that I may be a witness unto" In your opinion, Where would you spend eternity if you were to die tonight? --------------------------------------------------------------------