POETRY BY DIANNE SMALLING



THE FRAGANCE
What's that perfumed smell
That lingers round your hair?
I'd say it was supposed to be,
But dust is mingled there...

"Oh, I've been to see the Lord
And with me, fragrance took...
I bathed His feet with oil and tear,
As others stopped to look.

"They tried to make me feel ashamed
When I unpinned my hair.
But nothing could my tears refrain
As kneeling, I worshiped there.

"I could not keep from kissing
The dust upon His feet.
The dust that proved my God had come
To earth for me to meet.

"He said a thing so strange
Before I left that place...
He told me that this incident
Would never be erased.

"That generations, long to come
Will hear this humble deed,
And see the grateful worship
Of a sinner He has freed."

(Closing now the Bible
And leaning back my head,
I smell the lovely fragrance
Of the story I've just read.)


HE CALLED
He called me as a woman,
Though I knew not where I'd go.
Just He and I, a pilgrimage
With promise I would grow.

I wavered, then yielded my hand.
"If I can't trust You, then who?"
We took a step toward the unknown.
It felt so cold...so new.

I crossed a brink, leaving all
That makes a woman secure.
I peered to see what was ahead
But the view was fearfully obscure.

One comforting thing I noticed
As we took our second step...
His presence there beside me
Erased the world I'd left.

He took me to the fields beyond
and showed me other's need,
And challenged me to lay my life
On foreign soil, as seed.

I turned to go back home again...
Safe in comforts known before.
But then I knew my choice was made...
I only returned to close the door.


MY TESTIMONY
Oh Grace, that hid behind the door,
Until that moment You designed...
Removed the veil from heart of stone;
Shown in my eyes, that once were blind.

Found to me who sought You not
As in a web of love, I'm caught.
Empty hands...What can I give?
A grateful heart...
By grace I live.

THE SIGN
"Throne of Grace"...how rich that sign
That hangs outside Your door.
It beckons, "boldly enter in...
Behind the veil there's more."

So push the door wide open
He's waiting there for you
Accompaned by 'mercy'
And 'grace' attending too!

Push not gently at the door,
Give it the boldest shove.
For on the sign inside you'll see,
The "Home Sweet Home of Love".


FAREWELL
Cardboard boxes filled with things
That make a house a home.
Lovingly we store you there
To await us all alone.
The apartment has an echo now.
It whispers our farewell.
This haven's somehow lost its touch
To keep us from the trail.
No keys to open lodgings
Do we now hold in hand.
A promise from God's Word alone
Will open foreign lands.
So boxes filled with homey things
Keep silent for awhile!
And do not beckon our return
As you see our farewell smile.

THE TOUCH
He stopped despite the rush of life
to see who touched His hem.
"You see the crowd around You, Lord"
(It seemed so strange to them...
That as the throng pushed side to side
He's notice the touch so slight)
But it penetrated past His hem
And reached the heart inside.

He felt her desperation
He sensed the one last hope
He saw her trembling in the crowd
He asked her to approach

Your prayer, my friend, is like that touch
It makes it's way within
The heart of a caring Father
Where miracles begin.

Though millions throng His throne each day
With needs both great and small.
He sees your need and hears your prayer
As though beyond them all.

So reach right through the noisy crowd
Until He looks your way,
And says "My child, go, be healed!
I've felt your touch this day."

MY TREASURE CHEST
A treasure safely up above
No moth or rust can touch.
And put my heart along with it,
for that, too, can corrupt.

A single eye for you my God,
An eye so full of light,
That when I glance at earthly things
They vanish out of sight.

And make the motive of my alms
Be for Your eyes alone.
My right hand with a giving palm,
the left need never know.

And when I pass from this short life
And join my treasure chest,
You and I'll unpack the store
You've helped me to possess.

But I can't imagine keeping
One item from the box...
I can't see even thinking
To open up it's lock.

Your grace prepared the works for me,
And caused me to obey...
"It came from you, It goes to You"
That is what I'll say.

THE PURPOSE
According to His purpose
Romans 8:28 says,
That's why I'm chosen
That's why I'm led.

But what is this Purpose?
Is it defined?
So I turn the page over
...To Romans 9.

There it is clear
In verse 23,
He's showing the world
His riches through me.

I'm a vessel of mercy
Prepared before time...
Come through the Potter's House,
No work of mine.

Then I glance back
To 9, verse 11.
And see that I never
Could merit heaven.

For it's not of works,
But Him that calls;
So that's the Purpose
Behind it all!

THE PLAN

Then stood up a pharisee
Respected by all men,
A doctor of law, Gamaliel said,
"Here's what to do with them."

"These men that won't be silenced
But bolder yet they grow;
It seems a hard assignment
But there's a way, I know.

"It worked before with Theudas;
A following he sought.
In all there were four hundred,
But God brought them to naught.

"Now here we have another group,
Fearless in their speech.
I think the plan will work the same
As they proceed to preach.

"Now listen, here's my counsel...
We'll come not on these men,
But let the mighty hand of God
Decide the fate of them."

Gamaliel never knew that day,
two thousand years ago,
He'd give me hope by what he said...
A promise as I go.

If what I do be of the Lord,
No one can stop the plan.
For they would find a fight with God,
And not a fight with man!

PILGRIM'S HEART

I want a pilgrim's heart, O Lord
Not mindful of this world
Embracing a stranger's status
Indifferent to the lure...

Of things, opinions, fads & drifts...
Diluted in mediocrity
I wish to count my earthly worth
In view of eternity.

I look above this immediate haze
And see a city beyond
The foundations are unequaled
My heart cries, "I belong!"

How can I be at home here now
When deep within, a voice
woos with each and every step
To a place of better choice?