Edna

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Edna

Edna's Poetry

The Realm of Need

To dwell in the realm of need,
Is a most precious blessing, indeed,
To fall into your arms, strength all spent,
My own pride and intentions, well rent&ldots;

Provoked by such desperate contrition,
Humility comes to fruition,
As I empty the cup of self will...

~Lift it up~
*
*
*
You have something to fill.

Edna Frances Haist
© May, 1989

Where Is This Man?

Hang a cross on the wall; do as you please,
Stab your neighbor in his back; get on your knees,
Say Hail Mary’s ‘till you’re hoarse ~ it’s a disease,
Can’t get Jesus in your heart through a Diocese!

Tell me, where is this man who walked on water,
Who healed the sick and raised the dead ~ where’s his abode?
Is he just pretty story read at bedtime to your kids,
Or is he just a decent, upright, moral code?

Send a Christmas card; spread gossip to a friend,
Curse the poor; then see what you can spend,
Borrow when you want to, don’t dare trust to ever lend,
Go to church each Sunday morning; pretend.

Tell me, where is this man who walked to Calvary,
Who bled and died, yet rose up from the dead?
Is he just a pot luck supper, bread and grape juice once a month,
Or is he merely an image in your head?

Play the victim, well aware that you have lied,
Extol the truth in conversation; live your pride,
When life questions ~ let selfishness decide,
You, the Christian, in whom love does abide!

Tell me where is this man who walked with crowds,
Who taught love by his example ~ where is he now?
Is he living in your heart and loving others through your skin,
Or is he more than your hard heart can quite allow?

Edna Frances Haist
© 1989

Grief

~^~

My fear is over,
and deepest sorrow begins,
and I tread heavily
in hollow,
desolate,
places.

I am below even the aching of my soul.
My tears are dried up,
although they are not finished.

I cannot even begin to speak my grieving.
My lips are sealed.
My burden knows no end.

I am done, and I wait for my redemption.
There surely is reward for bowing down.

But as I walk on,
I cannot realize it.

For my bones
~ even my bones ~
have melted.

I am forsaken.

~^~

Edna Frances Haist
© 1989

Author's comments:

"Oh that my grief were thoroughly weighed,
and my calamity laid in the balances together!
For now it would be heavier than the sand of the sea:
therefore my words are swallowed up."
Job 6:2,3 KJV

Stone Must Needs Be Chiseled

~*~

Stone must needs be chiseled,
While clay is gently molded,
Slate, when bent, is broken,
And linen, softly folded.

Yielding to the Spirit,
Is a process borne of pain,
For he who has lost nothing,
Can truly never gain.

So, do not oppose it,
The correction of the Lord,
It is because He loves you,
He is seeking your reform.

~*~

Edna Frances Haist
©1989

~*~

the refiners fire,
the potters wheel,
the sculptors rasp,
all burn and peel,
and purging dross,
our souls reveal.

Edna Frances Haist
©2008

Rick's Song

I knew him when
He was cold and hardened
By the world
He'd been given to.
I remember him
Living just to party
Day by day
Just to get him through.

I knew him when
He was lost and blinded
And in Satan's grasp
To sin he did succumb.
I remember him
Before his eyes were opened
But only God
Knew who he would become.

I knew him when...
Well, if you knew him then
You'd agree with me
Anyone can be
A miracle of God
Or you might find it odd
If you knew him then
But he's been born again!

I knew him when
Wicked things were funny
And the world
Pulled him right along.
I remember him
When some thought him hopeless
But one fine day
They were proven wrong!

I knew him when...
Well, if you knew him then
You'd agree with me
Anyone can be
A miracle of God
Or you might find it odd
If you knew him then
But he's been born again!

Yeah, I knew him when...
Thank God he's born again!

Edna Frances Haist
Copyright 1989

Speak To Me

Speak to me, and I will listen,
Tell me things I do not know,
Lead me up the highest mountain,
And in your will, I’ll gladly go!

Fill my mind with your direction,
Flood my heart with your great love,
Load me with the Spirit’s presence,
Make me as Him who is above!

Keep me safe; provide all wisdom,
Give me strength to face the day,
Make me walk your paths, most holy,
Lead me, guide me, all the way!

I have no need of bread, nor water,
While my soul, in hunger, thirsts,
Yet you promised, Lord, to fill me,
With your precious, sweet, desserts!

So I’ll abide in expectation,
For I know the answer’s near,
Oh, how wonderful to wait,
Upon the Lord, with godly fear!

There Is A Place

There is a place where I can rest
And lay down all the day’s possessed,
A place so quiet, peaceful; still,
Where I discern from mine, His will.

From whence I rise, in strength, renewed,
With zeal to serve; with power, endued,
And forth I go to serve the day,
Unto the Lord, and walk His way!

This place of blessed rest I’ve found,
Where comfort, love, and joy abound,
I’ve found in Jesus ~ He who gave,
His all, the likes of me to save!

And so, I give to Him my cares,
And scars this earthen vessel wears,
Because He came to set men free,
And give new life, abundantly!

The Sacrifice Of Love

One who does not know love rebels,
A tightness in his chest has formed, and swells,
And hurls itself against the rocky cliffs.

It’s hard to kick against the pricks.

The more it hurls, the more it can’t save face,
Until, near lifeless, bruised, it seeketh grace,
And sees what all who would live one day must,
That there is One who loves, whom we can trust.

And still, rebellious waves come crashing in,
In sin, rebelling ‘gainst the lie of sin,
That said, “There is no love!”
Creation wept,
Embracing what it couldn’t quite accept.

The lie!
It hardened hearts; anger unfurled,
Futility and chaos ruled the world,
Until One came to set at naught the lie,
Who, loving much, was quite prepared to die.

And proven was the lie, at precious cost,
The Truth was lifted up to save the lost,
No greater love can there ever be,
Than One who willed to die for you and me.

What else could hardened hearts be looking for?
Accept the truth of love, there is no more!
The sacrifice of love ~ it has been made.
The cornerstone of life ~ it has been laid.

Maybe

maybe
in the scheme of things
where I don’t see that I fit in
there is a special empty place
which waits for me to fill it

and
as a piece of a giant puzzle
lying on a table
knows not its ultimate purpose
nor the picture it will help complete
I also
ignorant
know not my ultimate purpose
and so
despair and complain

yet all the while
a hand far larger
works to put it all together
and touching me
knows the time is near
when I should come into the picture
making it a little clearer
‘till I be lifted up
to where my view is
complete.