As you abide, you listen and hear. As you do that, you are called to love. From love, comes fullness of joy!
Just a Thought on Having Been Asked for a Thought
I was asked to write down a thought today, so I thought and then I jotted:
“I am swimming in an ocean of wonder and grace, jostled and thrilled by the waves of time and circumstance, but steady on course, neither washed ashore nor out to sea.”
If anyone asks, and I’m sure they won’t, that’s attributable to me.
I am preparing a sermon –
Some would say – contradicting
The topic on which I shall preach –
Judge not –
As if to say
Is to judge –
It is to say,
Shall we say,
As a buffet or
A main course –
Not to force feed,
But to lead.
So, I shall prepare
With mny usual stare
My own beams
That it will help others
With their specks.
The Best YOU
You are the best you there is.
There is no competition.
You can do it better than anyone.
No one can take your place.
Along with that dynamic truth there are two,
Seemingly contradictory, but ultimately
Paradoxical and mysterious:
You are not yet the best you can be …
Or will be …
You can duplicate yourself and your efforts
In others who are each, individually,
One Of A Kind
The keys are …
Stand in awe and wonder at God’s creation of you.
Appreciate your own uniqueness and that of others.
Extend yourself beyond your immediate reach.
Invest in people and in your own development.
Commit yourself to the long haul.
By God’s grace and power,
You can do it.
You are well on your way and you are …
Oh So Special!
– Tom Sims
What is that on your heart?
Is it just another attachment,
Or is it part of the whole?
Can it be severed as part?
An incidental detachment ?
Or must it remain as your very soul?
I think it is more than you know
More than you suspect
More than you can part with.
I think it is ebb and flow,
Something you must protect,
That which you must daily start with.
It is – Is it not, your dream?
It is that essence you embrace,
That core of being driving you on.
It is the radiant, pulsating beam
That neither time nor trouble can erase.
It is what keeps you striving when hope’s gone..
You are a dreamer, fashioned with purpose.
You are a schemer, designed for greatness.
You are a believer, infused with boundless hoping.
Live your dreams surrounded by the circus,
Under the big top with crowds predicting a fate less
Wonderful than what you know as groundless coping.
Reality is what you dream.
Activated by what you do.
Empowered by who you are.
You are far more than what you seem.
Your reach extends beyond your view.
Do it now and you will go far.
God be with you as you dream and do.
The perplexing poles of gratitude and regret,
Pictures in the mind we cannot forget,
Unwritten sonnets, unsung songs,
Unfulfilled wishes, un-righted wrongs.
Tempered and enveloped by words aptly spoken,
Mended hearts which once were broken,
Loves requited, love extended,
Hearts united, truth defended.
All of life is blended in a stew
Of all and everything that comes to you.
Blended and seasoned by all you believe,
Life is all your heart will receive …
By faith, willing, hopeful, and eager.
All that is impressive and all that is meager
Is life, and life is very, very good.
Have a happy, happy birthday. You should.
– Tom Sims
Come to the table
Grace calls gently, firmly, stubbornly.
You are not able,
Flesh weak, willing, needy, humbly.
Look in the stable,
A baby wimpers, helpless child of destiny.
He comes to lead us
Tableward, forward, beyond ourselves.
(c) Copyright, 2007, Thomas B. Sims, All rights reserved.
What Do You Think It Means?
Perhaps silence will mute
Out of rhythm.
Frozen in fear
I say nothing
To the thundrous applause
Of they who crouch in the shadows.
Ode to Traffic School
Bob was late and Jan was really very tired.
She for fate, and he, for fear of being fired,
Compressed the metal to the waiting floor,
Confessed within to driving sixty-four,
And let it loose midst stress to play the happy fool.
Not in the least obtuse, and yet, they’re both in traffic school.
And by their sides are Mary, Sally, John, and even Jim,
Anticipating scary films and lectures dull, and bleak, and grim,
Lost to opportunity today in commerce and in study,
Cost in dank impunity, fear the teacher is a fuddy duddy.
Tension seeps within collective pores.
Apprehension sleeps, introspective snores,
Fears of hopeless hours of endless pain,
Tears and jeers, nor flowers of potential gain.
Resentment festers for the unjust writ.
Contentment? Jesters only know its bliss.
To wit: We do not wish to be confined;
We do not wish to be maligned.
This never was our blessed choice,
And ever will our muzzled voice
Resist in silence, thus we deem,
The grist of this unholy scheme,
To take our money, time, and pride
From home and honey off our hide.
Beyond it all we only hope
Instructor may not be a dope.
And if ’tis true that there is life
Beyond this brew of toil and strife,
We’ll do our best to make the most,
And through it all to make this boast:
Although the task was far from cool,
We made the best of traffic school.
copyright 1994, Thomas B. Sims
DEATH BY ELECTION