Thursday, December 13, 2007


The Lost House
Fay Inchfawn

It was not the sort of a house where He
Could enter and belong,
He had not been invited, for
This was a house where wrong
Flaunted itself without disguise
Openly, unsahamed--
The wrongness which the Holy Book
Says never should be named

But, as He entered at the door
With friendship in His face
The strong man of the house rose up
And gave Him honoured place.
Then, as He took the offered seat--
Guest at an alien board--
The woman of the house brought out
The best she could afford.

It was like breathing mountain air
Or wind which comes over the sea;
It was like rain on a thirsty land
To be in His company.

Now came the touch He loved the best:
The children of the household pressed
So close to that most friendly Guest
Determined not to miss a thing
Just for the want of listening
And presently a small clear voice
Spoke, and half shyly said,
'Would you please to tell us a story, Sir,
Before we go to bed?'

He looked in her face with His kindly look--
That shy little five-year-old;
'Shall I tell you the tale of a little lost lamb
The shepherd brought back to the fold?'

Gently He spoke, but it came to pass
His voice was heard in the street,
And swift as the breeze in the aspen trees
Came the sound of hastening feet.
His voice had been heard and their hearts were stirred
As they wandered up and down,
And into that long-lost house they came,
The lost folk of the town.

In at the door
They came by the score.
Wild-eyed, bold faced terrible folk
Hung upon every word He spoke.
Everyone who had ears to hear
Eagerly, hungrily, drawing near.
Silken mantle or beggar's cloak,
The soul beneath it was moved and woke,
Saying so wistfully over and o'er
'Never man spake like this before'.

Lovingly Jesus sat with them,
Too courteous to intrude.
To some, maybe, it might seem that He
Had forgotten to do them good.
Yet He was the only Man who knew
The heart of a sinner through and through.
And only He heard the speechless plea,
'Find me, Lord Jesus,
Even me.'

Until lost sheep,
Lost coin,
Lost son,
Was found again--
Found again--
Every one.

When He rose to go, small fingers tried
To hold His hands and His robe beside.
The midnight cock had crowed before
Those glad folk followed Him out the door.
He went by the light of the harvest moon
And the children called after Him:
'Come again, soon;
Come again,
Come again, soon.'

I received an email this evening and in it my dear friend shared how the Lord had touched her so many years ago and changed her life. It reminded me how fortunate we are to have a loving Savior and Friend who sticks closer than a brother.

This poem by Fay reminds me of the very night the Lord, Himself came to me and stayed by my side until the morning, when I would be alright. The very next day I gave my life to Him. Situations and circumstances in my life led to me crying out to Him. And He came to me. Me, in all my ugliness, filthiness and wretchedness. I was amazed that He came to me in my used and abused state. But He did and He stayed until I was able to get help the next day. Help from a Dear Auntie who I knew would encourage me and together we would grow and walk with Him.

The Lord gives grace to the humble, that's what His Word says. I was floating on grace, no, I was swaddled in it. My life has never been the same since. I was like those lost folk of the town, that lost sheep, that lost coin, the lost son. And I was so worth it to Him. Me. Worth it to Him. And are worth it to Him too. You are ever so valuable to the Lord. And He longs to bless you with His breathing mountain air or wind which comes over the sea, like rain on a thirsty land-ahhh to be in His company.

I can say, that night, long ago: alone, death hovering near, self-inflicted stupidity, a feeble attempt to cloud, to mask years of hurt...He came to me and breathed His breath into me and gave me to drink of His living water...and gave me life and promise of a new day-and it was like sunrise over the mountaintops, the warm sand at the ocean and the bubbling, clear water in a mountainside stream. I pray we can learn to remain there, in His presence-in the Spirit.

My little list for The Thousand Gifts:

#11 shelter in the storm
#12 hugs for someone who truly needs to be loved
#13 tears before the Lord-my Father-leading to peace
#14 pretty icicles dripping
#15 a helpful son

Lord, I thank You that You find us valuable:so valuable that You gave Your life for us-even in our unworthy state. While we were yet sinners, You died for us, to give us life. Breathe Your breath upon us Lord, baptize us in Your Holy Spirit and that we may walk with You-giving You glory, forever. Amen

Remember your testimony-it will strengthen your armor. Commit your plans to the Lord and let Him order your Home-sweet Things. Then, whatever you do, in word or deed, do all in the Name of the Lord. xo

No comments: