Spilled Words

Don’t cry over spilled words,
things best left unsaid.
unkempt words on the table,
words that weren’t meant.
Pick ’em up
and put ’em back
in the boxes where they belong,
or fix ’em up to better express their emotion.
Maybe they’d work better in a song.

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All In a Row

After you’re finished
putting all of your ducks in a row,
you will find
one’s stepped out of line,
and back to the beginning, you’ll go.

Just stop looking for perfect,
in yourself or anyone else.
Stop looking back at behind.
Look forward with God’s loving eyes.
The ice you’ve been bound in will melt.
Only God’s perfect.

JT 6/1/2018

 

A Bit of Bread

Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Colossians 3:16-17

In this season

if we are able

we bring those we love

to our table

and celebrate

and feast

while at the same time

we’re honored to share

with others

who might not have the means

but God

to our joy

nevers limits himself

to our concept of time

or date of festival

So it is that

 

a bit of bread

a sip of wine

will always be

my Thanksgiving

 

We share communion

remembering

the body and the blood

some in open, some in secret

all together in God’s love

preparing for our mission field

ten thousand miles away, or one

 

The union of believers

gathered wounded searching souls

numbered few or many

makes no difference at all

God’s pleased as his children

make one giant choir call

in thanksgiving

 

If angels could cry tears of joy

it would rain

if angels could cry tears of joy

you know we’d feel the rain

 

God’s children

gathered around the world

lift their hands

different languages

accents of  their lands

placed within us all

a desire

to worship our Father

so

this offering we now bring

 

Praises to our God

he’s on the throne

we’ll sing praises to our Lord

till we go home

then every nation gathered

the bride’s song will continue

on and on

the sweetest song

on and on

our worship song

 

Whether my table

is laden or lean

the presence of Jesus within

sustains

and nourishes me

 

a bit of bread

a sip of wine

will always be

my Thanksgiving

 

©Joel Tipple
#9/16

 

 

Present

To be a gift
you must be present…
not a perfect present,
a present perfectly real.
Show me you,
the unique you God made.
Show me strength
that bends
instead of brittle, breaking.
Show me love
that can share my sorrow,
not only my joy.
Don’t just show me what you think,
show me what you feel.
Please don’t show me
what you own
and in the showing reveal
what owns you.
Oh, be owned
most definitely be owned.
But be owned
by the ultimate sacrifice,
the ultimate present,
the giver of life.
Be the gift
by giving yourself
to the present.

©Joel Tipple
#8/16

The Wings of a Butterfly

We all live

and we all die.

God gives us some time in between.

By his grace, while we’re here,

like the butterfly,

we move our wings.

 

Just how much do we really matter?

How much could we really matter?

Ask a butterfly if the edies of air that are born

with the movement of its wings

can make a storm.

Ask a butterfly.

 

Gather some thoughts.

Build some words.

Add a dash of joy

from a praise song you’ve heard.

Reach up your hands

to the giver of life

Make all we are and will become

ever sanctified

to Jesus.

 

 

God always has a reason

For his sometimes mysterious ways

Since he chooses us to be his hands and feet

Why would we waste even a day?

 

Wonderful Father, almighty creator,

would that we, and all life

Move at the direction

of your loving and just hands.

 

Gather some thoughts.

Build some words.

Add a dash of joy

from a praise song you’ve heard

Reach up your hands

to the giver of life

Make all we are and will become

ever sanctified

to Jesus.

 

©Joel Tipple
#7/16

Order My Heart

The world says I should listen
but I know you’ve an opinion
God, would you order my heart?

I need to hear what you say first.
My heart can be so wayward.
Examine each and every part.

I wake up to pursue your way
But the world and my ego often stand in the way.

I’m following you and asking you to mold my heart.
I’m such stubborn clay,
Father shape me, shape me.
Make my heart beat in time with your Holy Spirit now
I’m reaching out my arms.
Father hold me, hold me.

I’m hard of hearing
So come to my aid.
Help me sense your voice
today and all my days

I’m following you and asking you to mold my heart.
I’m such stubborn clay,
Father shape me, shape me.
Make my heart beat in time with your Holy Spirit now.
I’m reaching out my arms.
Father hold me, hold me.
Father hold me, hold me.

©Joel Tipple
#5/16