The Trenches

Unless I'm in the dirty trenches
Sharing in the toil and stenches,
I should never cast a stone
At the one down there alone,
Unless I've walked with him awhile,
Wept his tears and shared his smiles,
Pushed against misfortunes wind,
Shouldered burdens of his kind,
Unless I've borne his bitter fate
And fought his battles, small or great,
I should not have a word to say
Unless of course, it is to pray

Love is for the weak and brave,
Not the crest of some great wave,
Love seeks out the lonely face,
Searches in the dreary place,
And it never casts a rock
Into the trench where weary walk,
Love is gentle, love is kind,
Love to differences is blind,
Love does not seek out its own,
Or worship heroes on a throne,
So if love's not my driving force
I should be still, and pray, of course
Jan Bagwell
God  Bless

Mother

When I was young,
I often clung,
to many little things.
I'd reach up high,
again retie,
my mama's apron strings.

I sometimes did,
what mom forbid,
although she'd make it clear.
Thoughts still linger.
I remember,
through each fleeting year.

Acquainted still,
her stories thrill,
with many left untold.
I can't go back,
though mem-ries track,
to years I'd rather hold.

I'm lost in thought,
it can't be caught,
despite my futile search -
mama singing,
mama bringing,
this small boy to church.

Though I was touched,
and changed so much,
through Christ, the perfect One -
I cannot stay,
time slips away,
from all that she had done.

I try to grasp,
and hands I clasp,
around those many things -
but mem-ry strands,
slip through my hands -
just like those apron strings.

I miss her so.
Emotions show.
There's moistness in my eyes.
I can't withhold,
though I am old,
my oft guilt-ridden cries.

Though sometimes sad,
I'm always glad,
whenever I think of -
my mama's cares,
my mama's prayers,
and her most precious love.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless

Life is a blessing given to us

Life is a blessing given to us
From the day of our own birth
And through the hands of God Himself
He gives us all self-worth.

We all have the choice to choose what's right
'Cause he gave us all free will
For if you choose the things of this world
You will surely roll down hill.

You will land in a hole that you can't get out
No matter how hard you try
And no one will be able to help you out
No matter how loud you cry.

There is only one way out of this hole
On a path that is very thin
You must surrender your life to Jesus Christ
Then He'll forgive you for all your sin.

He will set your feet on solid ground
He will help you walk up hill
He will show you how to choose what's right
Then He'll show you His own will.

When we keep our eyes on Jesus
God's only begotten Son
Everything comes in second
For the Lord is number one.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless

I shall Go Alone

I shall go out alone

Tonight beneath the stars ,

I shall forget the world

With its wars and rumors of wars ;

I shall lift my face to the sky ,

To its friendly fires and feel

The night winds reaching its hands

Into my heart to heal .

The darkness will soothe my eyes

That have looked too long at the light ;

The clamor within my ears

Will cease in the soundless night ;

And perhaps I shall find again

A thing I have lost for long :

Laughter upon my lips ,

And a light-hearted song

Jan Bagwell

God Bless

 I am Living For My Lord

I have told the Gospel story
To many children over the years.
Some seemed not to listen.
Some repented with bitter tears.

Sometimes I am tempted to say,
"One soul was saved, only one."
Then my Father gently reminds me.
"For that child I sent my only Son."

I keep singing the Gospel story.
Sometimes I hit a wrong chord,
But I have a song in my heart,
So I'll keep singing for my Lord.

I have prayed so many prayers
That got answers of plainly "no",
But I got so many "yes" answers,
That it pays to pray, I know.

For every good poem I write,
I write one that's not so fine,
But I'll keep writing about Jesus,
For I am His, and He is mine.

I'll keep living for my Lord,
For He has done so much for me,
Until the day He takes me home,
And His dear holy face I see.

Jan Bagwell
God Bless

Tomorrow May Be Too Late

Have you ever thought to send a card or letter,
To encourage someone that they may feel better?
Do you know of a lost relative or a friend,
Who needs the Gospel so they may know their end?

Have you ever been impressed to hand out a tract,
To those with whom you come in contact?
Or are you sidetracked by the busyness of the day,
And you forget to talk to someone along the way?

Have you ever thought that you could be the only one,
To give the message of salvation to that someone?
Did you pass up an opportunity to be a witness,
And because you did, Heaven someone may miss?

When the Lord lays someone on your heart,
Don't put off another day the Gospel to impart.
Behold, today is the day of salvation-don't wait;
Because for someone, tomorrow may be too late.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless

My List

When I wake up in the morning,
before I get out of bed.
The plans I've made for the day,
start to plummet in my head.

Do this, do that, and this-that too,
the list goes on and on.
The plans I've made for the day,
begin with the crack of dawn.

Before I arise and get moving,
to do all that I have to do.
I reach for my Bible to see,
if He has any plans for me too.

As I read through the verses,
I shiver and my head starts shaking.
For all that I have to do,
has nothing to do, with His making.

I put my Bible down,
and throw the covers off the bed.
I give to Him all of my - this and that,
and He gives me His list instead!
Jan Bagwell
God Bless