Fresh Prints

I love Beth Moore's poetry. This poem spoke to me as we see the world in chaos around us and where we live has just so many problems. It's so easy to just come out with platitudes and wring our hands and say, "How terrible". This poem really challenges that. I'm particularly struck by the line,

"Let's cease to hide behind the cross and carry it instead".

Fresh Prints

We're inundated with the news

That all is at unrest.

We've not a clue

What this world's coming to,

Just thank the Lord we're blessed.

Beloved, this very day

You thought you'd never live to see

Is just the one God preordained

And chose for you and me.

We're not called to shake our heads

And utter "what a pity."

We're called as candles on a hill

And towers in a city.

We can draw far more to Christ than tracts

Or fancy steeples

We are proof in breathing flesh -

God moves among His people!

Please understand, this race you run

Is not just for your prize.

Grab young hands, courageous band,

Run for their very lives!

For us we must live for today,

For them, live for tomorrow.

Redeem the time for many blind

For there is none to borrow!

The prints of history's heroes

Will soon fade into the dust

If there will be fresh prints, my friend,

It is up to us.

Footprints that walk the talk that says,

"I'll go where You will lead!"

Kneeprints that bridge the gap

And make the hedge to intercede.

God, kick us off our cushioned seats

Don't let us turn our heads!

Let's cease to hide behind the cross

And carry it instead!

You beckon us, "My warriors,

The time has come, ARISE!

Draw your swords, fight the fight,

Sound the battle cry."

"Where are my few who dare to say,

'Come follow Him with me?'

Would you lay down your own dear life

So that my Son they'll see?"

"Consider Child, carefully -

Am I quite worth the cost?

To surrender hearts to holiness

And count all gains but loss?"

"I call you from your comfort zone,

Dare you be one of few?

If you'll not leave fresh prints, My child,

Then I must ask you, who?"

If you'll not lead the way, My child,

Then look around you,

Who?