[129]. A MESSAGE FROM A POEM – HISTORIC GLIMPSES - PAST, PRESENT, FUTURE
The bible is so true that we can count the future as historical. The title of this poem is Historical Glimpses and is in three sections – what is past; what is present; and what is future. God knows the end from the beginning. The I AM is present in every period of earth’s history.
There is very little in this poem touching on the present. Most of it is taken up with the past.
Don’t get too occupied with trying to allocate the stanzas. Take each one as they come and think about the message in each.
{{Romans 8:35-39 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Just as it is written, “For Your sake we are being put to death all day long. We were considered as sheep to be slaughtered,” but in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us, for I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.}}
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HISTORIC GLIMPSES - PAST, PRESENT, FUTURE
He came to earth -
A stable home.
Of humble birth,
Where cattle roam.
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He cured the dumb,
The lame and blind.
From death came some,
Who life did find.
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A man possessed
With demons much;
By God now blessed, (God now, his rest)
And so were such.
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God provided
For all His needs,
Women who cared.
God knows their deeds.
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“This My body
I give for you
Upon the tree,”
Will soon come true.
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When on the cross,
He suffered sore.
Dealt with my dross,
For evermore.
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His head was thorned (His head wore thorns)
By man’s mock crown.
Glory adorned, (Glory Adorns)
In heaven sat down.
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He gave His best
For me, freely.
For my soul, rest;
Loved me dearly.
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He waits the time
To rapture us.
‘Twill be sublime
And glorious.
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Through redemption,
He’s claimed His own.
His possession,
Before the throne.
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Then Israel learns
Of her true Lord;
In grief discerns
She bore the sword.
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Joy forever,
In His presence.
None can sever,
From that time hence.
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4 August, 1997 R E Ferguson 4-4-4-4