"Buckets Full of Love"

 

Written for Mrs. Sylvia Rager, who for these years, showed up at Vacation Bible School and served more than Snacks. She served us all “Buckets of Love"

 

 

 

 

 

As July summer rolls around

And VBS draws near

We get our games, the crafts, and snacks

For our favorite time of year

 

The kids get all excited

All our workers get new shirts

We put up posters, practice skits

And send out loud alerts

 

Then here comes Monday evening

The Buses roll on in

We sing and clap and have such fun

Then preach of hell and sin

 

The youngins come in by the droves

With pennies in their hands

We take up offerings for the Lord

We’ll send to foreign lands

 

Some kids get loud, some fussy

Some quiet as a dove

But when they leave to head on home

They take Buckets Full of Love

 

Who made the Buckets each one bears?

Who put such love inside?

To pour out over every child

This Love so Deep and Wide

 

For every child is a gift

The ones that makes us smile

And even ones that draw our frown

Who force us the extra mile

 

Yes, they all need bathed with charity

From head to knees and toes

To rid them of their hurts and griefs

The pain only their God knows

 

Buckets Full of Jesus Love

Dripped over every kid

To heal wounds of a cruel world

Their scars so often hid

 

Who gathered all these cherished pails

And placed such care in them

Who emptied all a mother’s love

And filled them to the brim

 

This love that soothes a child soul

And gives them joy anew

I know who poured these Buckets

Sweet Mrs. Rager, It was YOU.

 

He Called Us Mom and Dad

 

One of the most difficult times  in the lives of any couple, is when they are expecting a new baby, and suddenly the life of the baby slips away while still in mother's womb. It has been two years since we experienced this heartache in our lives. We have tried to find God in sadness. We know that He is there and resolve to love Him, though we may never understand the "why".

 

 

  

 

The grief that you carry will oneday subside

As we near heaven’s shore forever up there abide

 

The sorrow you felt in the cold doctor’s room

Will be forgotten up there where there’s no death nor gloom

 

How we hoped for a child to both call our own

But in a moment was lost and God’s reasons unknown

 

You sobbed every night awake next to my side

Your tears I tried to prevent, my soul ached as you cried

 

We both had high hopes of our having a child

I envisioned him robust but with your spirit ever mild

 

I could teach him to love sports and watch ESPN

And you could teach the piano to her maybe him

 

What a joy could’ve been to rear one we might share

Who loved us the same, not prefer other’s care 

 

But in swift moment of time was all swept away

I hurt even now as I imagine that day

 

I am sorry for our loss, I wish it never had been

I know you haven’t forgotten what happened back then

 

But I want you realize that there’s coming a day

When in Glory we’ll hear a sweet little voice say,

 

“Welcome home, Mom and Dad, I’ve been waiting for you”

And he’ll say that he loves us, and he’ll hug us both too

 

He is there with our Savior and he wants us to see

That we’ll one day embrace forever, o eternity.

 

We will all hold hands while walking down Celestial Street

And we’ll hear all about Heaven from one we never did meet

 

Oh the pain of his passing will end when we both rub the face

Of this one that we so love up in God’s resting place

 

The empty, void feeling will no longer be seem sad

When our boy who’s gone, calls you, “Mom” and me, “Dad”.

 

 

WE LOVE ALL OUR CHILDREN, BUT HOPED TO LOVE AND BE LOVED BY YOU ALSO

Happy in the Village

While on a month-long trip to Africa, I spied how that the children in the villages of Burkina Faso were some of the most contented I had ever seen. Yet most did not have access to a good education, nice clothing, consistent electricity, or any of the "things" that the developed world relies on for day-to-day satisfaction. As I dwelled on this, I not only thought of the emptiness of the young generation in America, but how that many marriages are based on temporal things, rather than true love. I am glad that my wife, Kimberly, and I have known the kind of relationship that does need all the "stuff" that so many others require for a good life and marriage. I could live an eternity with her and be satisfied just to come home to her each night and sit on the back porch and watch the sun go down. I am truly "Happy in the Village".