[062C]. A MESSAGE FROM A POEM – DOES SUFFERING CANCEL OUT A GOD OF LOVE?
THE POEM AS IT IS WILL NOT FIT IN THE ILLUSTRATION SPACE AVAILABLE. I HAVE HAD TO SPLIT IT INTO THREE PARTS. THIS IS THE THIRD PART.
THE INTRODUCTION FOR THE POEM IS IN PART 1.
PART 3
SECTION C - PART 1 (GOD NOW ADDRESSES THIS PROBLEM. GOD SPEAKS)
Roar beyond the waterfalls
To universal heights proclaim -
Shout it out in all the world -
The God of Comfort is My name.
Listen now unto your God,
To what your Lord and Maker claims.
Separate from minds closed fast,
Become the ones that God reclaims.
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SECTION C - PART 2 (GOD NOW ADDRESSES THIS PROBLEM)
Come to Me you hurting ones -
With oil I’ll gently soothe your care;
Bind your wounds your sin has caused.
I’ll carry you in your despair.
Distressed I am about man’s pain,
The suffering and misery,
Crimes, inequity and sin,
Abortion, lies and treachery.
Come to Me O stiff-necked world,
Your scarlet sins made whitest white.
Reason together, repent,
And leave behind your blackest night.
I the Lord despise not hurt
I am aware of this world’s plight
Measures I have taken all
To intervene to make you right.
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SECTION C - PART 3 (GOD NOW ADDRESSES THIS PROBLEM)
Comfort, comfort, come to Me -
Compassion’s found beneath My wings.
Refuge for your hurting souls;
Contentment to your hearts it brings.
I’m the Lord, Your loving God
Who yearns to take your pain away.
Solace find, close to My heart -
Please come and learn of Me today.
Take My yoke upon you all -
All you weighed down, you weary ones.
Shed your heavy-laden load
And rest your souls, My chosen sons.
Listen, people, to Me now -
Your sins have caused you woe and grief;
Separated you from Me
But Saviour Christ has won relief.
I so loved this sinful earth
With all its sin and agony.
Gave for you My only Son
To bring you peace and harmony.
Come to me and come with haste
To feast on heaven’s milk and wine
Priceless gifts, but with no price
Now let your ears to Me incline.
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SECTION C - PART 4 (GOD NOW ADDRESSES THIS PROBLEM)
You will never know My hurt.
My back I gave to those who whipped,
Covered not My face from spit,
And from My beard the hairs they stripped.
Form distorted, there I hung
More marred I was than anyone.
Faces turned away from Me -
Despised, forsaken - Me they’d shun.
Gone astray each one of you -
I made your griefs and sorrows Mine.
Crushed and scourged - Yes I knew pain!
It fell on Me, the Christ divine.
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26 Feb - 6 March 2006 Ron Ferguson A-B-C-B throughout