Poems

Faith's secret

I ask not for a field already grown,nor even for the cheery mustard flowerfully blown.

The door

I pushed open the door with the signCARE ABOUT OTHERS,which led up from the cellar of self.

Audio Collection

A spiritual approach to healthcare

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

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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The breath of prayer

The streetlamp pours its pale washacross the still wet bricks,and the summer's breezeis an eddying of invisible feathersacross my gazing face.

Write for JSH

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

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In the morning...

Peter, I know you—the wondrous joy when,led to the mount,you saw, you nearly understood!

In heaven always ...

Discouraged once again, lost in anguishFor what seemed the thousandth timeTo face recurring pain (relief often immediate)Only to come again,"What's left for me to learn, Lord?

The eternal student

A satire

Audio Collection

Shared reflections

Listen to this inspiring collection of articles or download the audio.

Audio Collection

Changing your world

Listen to this Sentinel Watch series—and discover how your prayers can make a difference in the world.

From Conquering hate, enthroning peace

Love's triumph over hate

How can we love when others hate? Prayerful turning to God, divine Love, with the earnest desire to express His qualities under all circumstances will give us strength and ability to do right.

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From Place

"The secret place of the most High"

We learn in Christian Science that God is infinite Truth, Life, and Love and that He imparts to His creation only that which is completely beneficial.

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

Write for JSH

Holy Bible, book divine,Precious treasure, thou art mine:Mine to tell me whence I came;Mine to tell me what I am;

Contemplation

Teach me where I need to go.

Breakthrough

Bright light, white, pure, beneficent.

As brother to Zacchaeus*

I climb my sycomore tree,wholly lifted above crude crunch, mundane mutterings,to the free, uncluttered viewI seek.

Thy will, not mine

Ah, the fruitless, formless heaviness of indecision,That oversurging of pros and cons,That final tally of confusionYielding non-answerandStarting all over again.
Once I dwelt in the tomb of mental darknessamong the rocks of ignorance, fear, and sin—ranting in despair.