Poems

Where is He?

When you're aloneAnd no one's home,God is there.

One Comforter

"As one whom his mother comforteth,so will I comfort you;and ye shall be comforted in Jerusalem.

Audio Collection

Anthology of classic articles III

Listen to this inspiring collection of articles.

From Safety

A safe refuge

Trust in God opens the door to a safe refuge, always available and always at hand.

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A grievance healed

A grievance,refrigerated in a cold, cold heartmelts in grateful tears,when we open, at Christ's knock,the icebox door and let in the warmthof our Father's tender lovefor all His children.

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Innocent!

Here I am, Lord!I'm just a little child.

An angel at midnight

Throes of thought,screaming for attention,cut the midnight silence.

"Who teacheth like him?"*

I've learned when healing comesIt's like the Beatitudes understood.

Audio Collection

Anthology of classic articles II

Listen to this inspiring collection of articles.

Audio Collection

A spiritual approach to healthcare

Listen to this Sentinel Watch series on a spiritual approach to healthcare.

From Living the Lord's Prayer

'OUR FATHER ...'

The Lord's Prayer sparks the recognition that divine Love is always with us.

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From Church

The demand for church

I like to think of each church that grows up in a community as that community's answered prayer for the presence of the saving Christ—the message of God's love for humanity.

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Inspired by this poem? Consider writing and sharing your own! Find out more by visiting Writer’s Corner.

Write for JSH

"The Lord is risen indeed, andhath appeared to Simon.

Back-street Christ

"No, it's not too late to walkto where no hands, no lies abuse— to wander openly, to talkof hopes to free, of fears to lose.

Stings

Angry words stung like the hornets whose nest was stirredby a broom held all wrong,as a boy swept the porch, his job that day,and I shouted to make my point heard.

Wake up! Wake up!

Have I been thoughtlessly so long sleeping—Losing the bright, sparkling, first love and joy,Resting on laurels long grown dim,A figure of apathy, ardency thin?

The angels of my life*

My angels wear no wings—except the wings of Loveto bear me upabove the stony pathand help me soar.

I fill the void

Right where a yawning void stares you in the face—loss, failure, and desolation,where nothing seems to thrive,where there seems to be no way out—right there am I.