MY COMMANDMENT

Here is my commandment. Don’t walk upon the grass.

The green rubs off on shoes and pants so don’t look like an ass.

You see that great big signboard that’s driven in the ground?

It spells out what I’m saying and doesn’t make a sound.

The letters are not tiny. They’re plain for all to see.

The only ones to walk on it are Peter, Paul and me.

Don’t look at me at so strangely. Your supercilious grin

Does not reflect the attitude I speaking to you in.

The fact Is I would like you to have eternal life.

Not the way you’re feeling now but free of hurt and strife.

Why do you never listen? Why don’t you wear my yoke?

You’ll find it so much easier and will not make you choke.

I’m asking this so nicely. Please do this thing I say.

It’s really in your interests to listen and obey.

Please keep my commandments and do not please yourself.

Those who say they can’t comply I’ll leave upon the shelf.

The only way to love me is to do the things I say.

The choice is never optional. There is no other way.

For those who try and keep them The Love of God they’ll know.

Only do it willingly don’t put it on for show.

I truly want to manifest Myself and come to you.

My Father likes the whole idea so do what you must do.

Seek for understanding. Do it the wisdom way.

Better than great treasure is simply to obey.

It is the way of blessedness and is the way of peace.

She is to you a tree of life that shouldn’t ever cease.

And if you really trust Me and keep all of my law.

You will not slip and stumble and fool around no more.

So put away all evil and do the things I say.

See if you can sort it out, there is no better way.

No better way to love Me that doing what I’ve said.

You’ll find it will keep going on till long after you’ are dead.

For love can have no ending. It goes on constantly.

And It’s available to you and everyone you see.

So please don’t think I’m talking about a field of grass.

It goes so far beyond this, that you won’t want to pass

The blessing it will bring you, just doing what your told.

Will far outweigh the problems of finding hidden gold.

Jim Strickland – written Wednesday, 29 June 2011

WHERE WERE YOU?

When we speak of Jesus Christ, who is it that we mean?

We‘re told He’s God in overalls. The God who last was seen

About two thousand years ago. Just dying on a cross.

You wouldn’t think it credible that all creation’s boss,

Cold ever let it happen. It’s too good to be true

That Father incognito would ever, ever do.

Something incomprehensible. Why do it? After all

He didn’t do a sinful thing from He didn’t even fall.

It’s equally impossible to think He walked on earth.

What purpose was there in it? An act of supreme mirth?

And did He think it funny squeezed into a balloon?

With hardly any space around to give Him elbow room.

Why bother with humanity. They’d only cause Him pain.

What purpose did it serve for Him? Did He Himself ordain

That it was necessary? If it was left to me,

They couldn’t point a finger at the man from Calvary.

And yet He came and did it? Perhaps He just went mad.

Was He perhaps a masochist who relished being bad?

That couldn’t be the Jesus, the one I’ve know so long.

The Man Who came to rescue us from all we have done wrong.

But that does not explain it. What plan was in His mind?

What reason did He give Himself? He wasn’t deaf or blind.

He knew what they had purposed. Perhaps He thought they’d missed

But Judas made it very plain for He was whom he kissed.

My greetings to you master. Now show me what to do

While all creations was transfixed and what would become of You?

A taste of Roman lashes? A mock up silly crime.

The only thing He ever said that He was Devine.

But that’s not good a reason to have Him crucified.

They couldn’t find a fault in Him, no matter how they tried.

Of course He was their scapegoat. Somebody had to die.

The High Priest hadn’t volunteered and so it was you or I.

And I’m paid up member a coward through and through.

So when it comes to volunteers, my friend its must be you.

So tell m e now where you were on that day the Jesus died.

Where were you when they drove the nails And thrust Him the side

You had to be quite close to Him. I’m sure you know it well.

The day they murdered God most High and sent Him off to Hell.

Jim Strickland – written Tuesday 28^th June 2011