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Wednesday, April 20, 2022

" How Deep the Father's Love for Us"



~ How deep the Father's Love for us
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure.

How great the Pain of searing Loss
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the Chosen One
Bring many Souls to Glory.

Behold the man upon a Cross
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers.

It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His Dying breath has brought me Life
I know that it is Finished.

I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His Death and Resurrection.

Why should I gain from His reward?
I can not give an answer
But this I know with all my Heart
His wounds have paid my ransom.

~Yes, this I know with all my Heart...
His wounds have paid my ransom.


~ Steve Townend
U.K.


~ Beannaichte'
20 April, 2022

@beannaichte.twitter.com

Flying Column - Four Green Fields

The Dying Rebel

Wednesday, March 16, 2022

"Irish Blessing"

  
 I
wish  you Not 
Path Devoid of  Clouds.
Nor a Life on a bed of Roses.
Not that  you  might Never Need Regret,
Nor that  you  should Never Feel Pain.
No, that  is Not my Wish for you.
My Wish for you is:
That  you  might  be  Brave in Times of Trial,
when others Lay Crosses upon your Shoulders.
When  Mountains  must be Climbed,
and Chasms  must  be Crossed;
When Hope can Scarce Shine through.
That  every Gift God gives you,
might Grow along with you.
And  let you Give the Gift  of Joy
to All who Care for you.
That  you  may Always  have  a Friend
who  is Worthy of the Name.
Whom  you  can Trust,
and who Helps you
in Times  of  Sadness.
Who  will   Defy the Storms 
of  Daily Life, at your Side.
One  more Wish  I  have for you:
That  in  Every  Hour
of  Joy  and  Pain,
you  may Feel God Close 
to  you.
This  is  my Wish  for you,
and  All  who Care  for you.
This  is my Hope  for  you,
Now
and
Forever.
 
~ Unknown
~ Beannaichte'
 
17 March, 2022
@beannaichte.twitter.com 

Saturday, February 26, 2022

"War"


I hear the song the blackbirds sing,
The rush of mountain waters, tis Spring;
The corn lifts its ears, without a sound,
Church bells ring all around.
 The doormouse flits in an out,
A little squeak, he cannot shout;
A boy, a flash, and then a scream,
Is this the End, or just a dream.

Darkness fell in mirky cloud,
"It's only midday," said the voice out loud;
On my God, what has gone wrong,
Why is the burn and the hurt so strong.
In the distance, yet another boom,
I glanced around, I saw the gloom;
Mummy! Mummy!, came the child's scream,
Mummy had gone and could not dream.

My heart is pained, but I recall,
The forest, these trees, once so tall;
Burning timbers still remain,
No more Life in wooden veins.
Puffing, Panting, breathing smoke,
I try to breathe, don't want to choke;
How I wish I could scream,
Just to wake, make this a dream.

My Brothers and Sisters, are they near,
Their Future is my greatest fear;
For myself, I am not so sad,
In this World, so big, so bad.
The so-called super powers of late,
They've disagreed and sealed our fate;
Wait! That sound, I heard a scream,
I am awake, it was a dream.

~ Eddie Barber
 
~ Copyrighted Material
U.K. 


~ Beannaichte'
 
26 February, 2022
@beannaichte.twitter.com