Poetry

"Digging in the Dirt"

I prepared my gift with eagerness, wrapped with a bow of green.
I lowered my head and placed it at the feet of the King of Kings.
He inspected it and smiled a smile that made my spirit sing.
"Lift your head," He told me, "I'm pleased to say, I love your offering."
"Yet, this gift does not contain the thing I've requested of your heart.
Keep digging, seeking, listening for the message I've told you from the start."
I walked away, and with a nod, decided to try harder still.
I joined some studies, lead a class, because surely this was His will.

I gathered my works, so excited to approach His throne that day.
This time the bow was royal blue, and the wrapping a silvery-gray.
He lofted it up onto His lap and looked at me with love.
"My daughter, you've worked very hard for this-but it was not inspired from above."
"Go back and listen carefully, your holiness depends not on your works.
As a matter of fact, belief in that is where the enemy lurks."
"I've placed a stamp upon you that contains one word: 'Purpose'.
But, you've got to find it, it's well beneath this pretty, landscaped surface."

I got an idea, and began to dig for this beautiful buried treasure.
The thing my Father spoke of that would bring Him glory and bring Him pleasure.
I dug with such excitement, what could be buried far below?
The thing God wanted most surely had the biggest, nicest bow!
The excitement left as the digging continued, how buried could this thing be?
With exhausted tears, I raised my head and cried out from there on my knees.
"It's not here, God! This beautiful treasure you're asking me to seek!
It's not in me, and now I feel so frustrated and so weak!"

He wiped my tears and comforted me, then gently said, "Open your eyes".
I looked where I had been digging, "God, you don't want that.", I cried.
"Give it to me, trust me." He said from His holy seat.
So I picked it up and hesitated, but then laid it at His feet.
There it sat, a gloopy, gloppy, stinky bubbling mess.
I wanted to run, I wanted to hide!
How could this possibly be my best?


He scooped it up into His arms and began to do a work.
He removed the things not usable.
He washed off the mud and murk.
Then there before me, cupped in His hand, was a diamond.
How it shined!
Breathless, I gazed at my healing Father.
He said, "My Love, it was there all the time."

written by:  Leigh Ramsey



"Empty"

Empty instruction, little mention of prayer.
Empty teachings without the Bible there.
Empty feelings-nothing felt much like love.
Empty life, uninspired from above.
Empty dreams that You didn't point me toward.
Empty values that meant nothing without You, Lord.
Empty "love" that only made me feel worse.
Empty worth, concluding that uselessness was my curse.
Empty ideas as I was blind and afraid.
Empty beliefs as the decision was made.
Empty emotions when I walked down the sterile hall.
Empty womb, I had let them take it all.
Empty heart every time I numbed the pain.
Empty hands as I searched for joy in vain.
Empty spirit, so I looked up to the sky.
Empty soul, but I heard You knock as I cried.
Empty of sin and filled with grace.
Emptied of hopelessness, joy in its place.
Empty vessel, God use me today.
Empty of me and filled with you, I pray!
All of this emptiness you chose to consume,
with Your love and a cross, and an empty tomb.

written by: Leigh Ramsey