The Pretty Purple Blossom

The pretty purple blossom bloomed one sunny springtime day
and as the others grumbled, this is what she had to say...
"Enjoy the warming sunshine and the view we get from here.
Just concentrate on Jesus now. There's nothing more to fear."

But oh, the other blossoms argued in the stirring breeze,
"We're worried we'll get stung by bees or worried we might freeze.
We're on an old crab apple tree - not white or red or pink.
So why did God do this to us? Life is unfair, we think."
---
The pretty purple blossom turned her petals to the sun
and as the others grumbled, her calm faithful words begun...
"Please let me rest in Jesus' arms and let the whole world be.
His blessings all surround us now. Just look around and see."

But still, the blossoms argued underneath a darkened cloud,
"This shouldn't be permitted. No, this shouldn't be allowed.
What if the storm clouds gather and the winds begin to stir?
What if the lightning strikes us or tornadoes should occur?"
---
The pretty purple blossom seemed to wink at growing wind
and as the others grumbled, there were many there who sinned...
"Please don't be anxious and annoyed at what you can't control.
Enjoy this day that God has giv'n and worry 'bout your soul."

And still, the blossoms argued as dark clouds began to form,
"See? We were right! We told you so! Here comes a giant storm!
Now we are waving in the wind. We heard your subtle scoff.
It won't be long before the wind will blow us blossoms off!"
---
The pretty purple blossom folded petals as she prayed
and as the others grumbled, she was not at all afraid...
"Who can you trust if not our God, creator of all things?
The winds have been a blessing now - turned branches into swings!"

The other blossoms argued as the storm was overblown,
"The day will come when we will die. The facts have made it known.
There needs to be equality so we can stay alive.
If we could stick together we can certainly survive."
---
The pretty purple blossom looked up to the clearing skies
and as the others grumbled she had seemed to agonize...
"No matter what you do on earth, no matter how you try,
you will not live forever and one day you'll surely die."

The other blossoms argued in a meeting they had held,
and came up with a rule of law which was unparalleled.
The law was passed late in the day - about half-passed eleven.
The pretty purple blossom though, already lived in Heav'n.
---
The pretty purple blossom walked with Jesus, hand in hand
and as the others grumbled, she still prayed they'd understand.
A forest fire, burning hot, was headed straight their way
and though they didn't know it yet, it'd be their final day.

The other blossoms argued as the flames were heading near.
And this time it was serious. They had something to fear.
No social rule or law could save them from this certain plight.
In one way or another, there is death in dead of night.
---
So soon the purple blossoms fall from that crab apple tree
as time continues swiftly for the blossoms - (you and me).
The pretty purple blossom lives in full serenity -
still praying we will join her there ...for all eternity.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless

Deep Waters

No matter how deep
the waters get
I know that me . . .
God won't forget.

If they be shallow,
or be they knee-high
God will not leave me
alone to get by.

No matter how deep,
my troubles may go
I know the way out
God promises to show.

If there be darkness,
or if there be light
God will lead me
be it day or night.

No matter how rough,
the waters may be
I know God will not . . .
ever forsake me!
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !
Isaiah 43:2a

"When thou passest
through the waters,
I will be with thee;"

Edge of Heaven

Edge of Heaven
 
Rod Mayer has been the youth pastor at New Hope community church , Spartanburg ,S.C. ., for 15 years, and many in the church credit he and his wife Janet for being an instrumental tool in their children’s faith journeys. Through Janet’s recent three-year struggle with cancer, she kept a positive outlook and was often the one who cheered others who were saddened by her condition.
The Sunday after she died, the church was treated with stories of how Rod and Janet, knowing the end was near, had spent a beautiful week together in Hawaii. We also heard how Rod had taken their two children’s favorite toys and put them in a paper bag out of sight. He told them that although they couldn’t touch their toys or play with them, they knew where they were, and it was going to be the same with their Mommy. They wouldn’t be able to touch her or play with her, but they would know she was in heaven.
Two days later, with Janet in heaven, a memorial service was held at the church. There was not enough room for everyone who came. There were stories about Janet from those who were closest to her. Some tried to laugh and bring lightness to the heavy emotions by recalling her sunny disposition. I imagined Rod on the front row, choked up by all this. I wondered if he might speak, but then, if it were me, I surmised I would not be able to.
Suddenly, Rod was up on the platform speaking. He told us how in her last few moments Janet stood up in bed, reached her hands up to heaven and spoke. When he asked her who she was talking to, she said, “Angels.” And then he and a friend laid her back down on the bed, and she died.
I thought it was pretty courageous of him to do this—to tell us these things—given his situation and the frailty of human emotions. But I was soon to be even more surprised when he strapped on a guitar and began leading us in songs of praise & worship. Let me tell you, that was an experience like no other. It was the closest I’ve ever come to worshiping with the saints in glory. There was such a sense of reality in knowing that Rod could not do this if he wasn’t looking out over the edge of heaven right then as he sang. This was not drummed-up praise. This was exuberant, from-the-bottom-of my-shoes praise. There was no lie in it.
Rod’s voice carried over everyone else’s, and there was something about it that was different. It had a strength and confidence that was mystical, if not eerie. It was almost as if he stepped over the edge of heaven for a moment and sang to us from there. I swear I heard a glorified voice.
And then, if that weren’t enough, he had us all bow our heads and he gave an invitation. Yep. I’m not making this up. He told everyone at his wife’s funeral that this would be a really good time to make sure they were ready to die, and then he told them what they needed to do to receive Christ. From the edge of heaven, he welcomed a number of people into the family of God.
Rod is not a big man. He’s not a tall man. He is slight in build and usually a little nervous around people. But let me tell you something: Rod is a huge man now in my eyes. Bigger than anyone I’ve ever met. I’m sure he will go through some long, lonely days. By the time you read this, they may be his longest ever. I don’t know, but I hear it’s the little things you miss—the coffee ready, the toothpaste squeezed in the middle, the sniffle during a touching scene on television, or simply turning around and forgetting for a split second, that there is no one there. Not to mention all the support you had the first few days that is now gone. Not anybody’s fault; it’s just that way. They have to get back to their lives, and you have to go back to yours, except yours will never be the same.
I know after that service I'll never be the same, and I hope you won’t either, even just from reading this. And you know what else? If you don’t know what’s going to happen to you when you die, Rod would want you to do something about that. Right now. He would want you to make his loneliness worthwhile by meeting him someday, at the end of days, on the edge of heaven. You can do it right now.
Your prayer could sound something like this:
Lord Jesus, I want to know you personally. Thank you for dying on the cross for my sins. I open the door of my life to you and ask you to come in as my Savior and Lord. Take control of my life. Thank you for forgiving my sins and giving me eternal life. Make me the kind of person you want me to be.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !
Pastor Rod Mayer , we love you and your Family

It is Shame

It is A Shame

Occasionally my thoughts out run my brain,
Then I hear myself either brag or complain.
All uncalled for, of this there is little doubt,
As I brain feed them, truer words come out.

To brag, i take credit for what God's done,
For through Him my battles have been won.
He always lifts me up whenever I am down,
If not for Him, in a sea of problems I drown.

To complain is a shame, for I have no right,
The number of my blessings are out of sight.
So if I complain, remember what I have said,
They're wasted words that are not brain fed.

Brain before tongue and praises you'll hear,
As thoughts of past and present come clear.
Christ blood's covered my sins and its stain,
My thoughts here before I brag or complain.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !!

 Miracles

If, on this paper, I could pen
just one of God's creations, then,
it'd prove to all, His mighty hand -
His miracles on sea and land.

But how can I take fish and bird -
express their beauty in mere word?
Or on my paper, what remains
when grasping fragrance from spring rains?

Into my words, do rainbows melt?
Is, on my paper, sunshine felt?
Can words expose a flower's bloom?
Can page bring music to a room?

While we can see and smell and touch
and hear, we do not know so much.
Mere words are dark and empty holes
just like our dead and empty souls.

Our pride stands in the way of Christ
while we all think we've sacrificed!
So humbly pray to God above
through miracles of peace and love.

We're like mere words as body dies.
But spirits live above the skies
to see in Heaven all the more -
His miracles, like none before.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !

The Heart of Forgiveness

I question those Christians,
who say they love the Lord
and yet to forgive others
their hearts can't get on board.

They tithe and go to church,
sometimes they read their Bible
but to those who have hurt them
they still hold them accountable.

Forgiveness is an eleven-letter word,
that they know how to spell out
but to understand it's full meaning
they are full of hesitation and doubt.

They have chosen not to forget,
nor give to God their pain
to do so would mean to them
all their suffering would be in vain.

For deep in their souls,
they have become the judge
and to forgive others means
their hearts would have to budge.

And so they cling on to the past,
with hearts as cold as stone
instead of giving over their grief
to the One who judges from the throne.

I wonder if they ever think,
what if Jesus had thought this way?
I wonder what these Christians . . .
would then have to say.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless
Ephesians 4:32
King James Version

"And be ye kind one to another,
tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as
God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you."