March 20, 2013

Let's Pretend

by Gary Field (author's profile)

Transcription

Gary Field
M05398
Century C.I.
Century, FL 32535
E1-103

LET'S PRETEND

Let's pretend - for just a moment, my friend,
That all your deeds, were shown on C.N.N.
That everything you had ever done,
Was shown on "prime time" to everyone.

Let me ask - would you do the same -
Just pretend that this is a game.

The things you've done, would you do them again,
If they were all broadcast on T.B.N.?
What if your life was an open book
And everyone could just "take a look"?

And all the things that you'd like to forget,
Were splashed all over on the Internet,
If all the things that you knew were wrong,
Were played on every station as a number one song.

If the darkest secrets, hid within your soul,
Were flashed on the big screen at the Super Bowl.
If all the dirt - the darkest part of you
Was shown on cable or on "pay per view"?

How would you feel, if all your "petty crimes"
Were shown on the front page of the New York Times
It's just a game - but imagine the shame,
If all your sins were "posted" under your name!

Well, my friend, it's time to open your eyes.
Consider this, just a word to the wise.
The heart of man can wear no disguise
That can hide your intent from the Master's eyes.

Hebrews 4:12 will erase any doubt,
If you don't understand what I'm talking about.
"He discerns the thoughts and intents of the heart".
Soul, spirit - joints and marrow - He divides apart.

If it's still not clear, if you have any qualms,
Take a look at 44:21 in the Book of Psalms.
"Shall not God search this out?" No secrets, my friend,
This time it's not a game of "let's pretend".

Thank God for His mercy, and His amazing grace,
Though we all have stumbled, we're not out of the race.
There's redemption - and forgiveness of sin -
It's about where you're going, not where you've been.

Come now, friend - let us reason together,
The weight that besets us is as light as a feather.
And though your past was as if it were mud,
You can get cleansed - put it under the blood.

Because the price was paid at Calvary,
And the blood of Jesus has set us free.
He paid the price to give us liberty
When He shed His blood - we got the victory.

So while there's time - think about it, my friend,
This is just a poem, and soon it will end.
It's up to you, what the future will hold
Just remember - you've already been told.

"He discerns the thoughts and intents of the heart."
But it's not too late to make a fresh start.
The next time that you hear an altar call -
You can nail your sins up on the wall.

The time is at hand, yes - the night's far spent,
Make a stand on your knees - time to repent.

Something to think about, my friends -

How is it that a man would grab, desperately, at straws if he thought it would add just moments to his life - and yet he would be so careless about where he will spend eternity?

How can we, who believe, not feel a sense of urgency? How can we, who believe, NOT do all that we can that others may know?

Corinthians 4:4 says "In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them." - Satan is the god of this world... Let us not only PRAY that others may know the glorious gospel of Christ, but also share the riches of His Glory.

I realize that -
Some of my poems are over the top
With their visions of fiery hell.
But when I look upon a "bumper crop"
Of lost souls, it makes me want to yell.

Some go to church wearing their Sunday best -
And hear messages that make them feel good.
Meanwhile, their sins may go unconfessed,
And the urgency misunderstood.

The choir may have them stomping their feet,
Waving their hands and dancing in the pews.
And a sermon served up saccharine sweet,
May enlighten, entertain and amuse.

But after the tithes and offerings,
And a sermon preached for itchy ears.
The emotional choir's murmurings,
The altar calls with the OFT SHED tears.

How many hearts have been convicted,
How many felt a stirring within.
How many souls have been afflicted,
By the reality of their sin?

Yes - some of my poems are over the top,
But I'd gladly climb a mountain and yell -
If it would reach some of that bumper crop
And get them off a path that leads to hell.

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