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Expressions of Love
On a day quite dark and dreary causing mind and soul to weary
I sat beside the fire quite contented with myself
I entertained the thought of dozing and my eyes were ever closing
Focused vaguely, on a bookcase and the books upon the shelf
Yes, books of many volumes forming multi-colored columns
Awed my imagination in the secrets they must hold
My aimless fingers wandered as through the books I pondered
Then, by chance I found one volume that was ragged, torn and old
I thought best it be discarded, for the price of time had marred it
And it bore a musty odor caused by ever-growing mold
But, I happened to discover 'neath the dust upon its cover
The inscription "Holy Bible" lettered now, in faded gold
So, I probed amongst its pages, with its history of the ages
At first, with passing interest, then, transformed to utter awe
The story of creation with its wealth of information
To the sheer appreciation of God's wonderous, perfect law
It told how shepherds trembled when "angelic" forms assembled
to bring forth the joyous message of a wondrous, virgin birth
Within sin-infested nations, there was need of God's salvation
So, Our Lord, with love and mercy, placed His Son upon the earth
It told how Peter thrice denied Him; In result they crucified Him
Jesus murmurred "It is finished" with his last and dying breath
His body was imprisoned--Three days later--He is risen
And His mission, thus completed, even victory over death
I then laid the book beside me--Analysed the thoughts inside me
And I marveled at the message that this great book had to tell
Within its beaten cover was a "Treasure" to discover
Rich in paradise eternal and escape from satan's hell
Now, I cannot help but wonder of this world so torn assunder
In which greed will form a ladder by which man can raise himself
Man will go about his labor cheating brother, friend and neighbor
While, unopened lies a Bible gathering dust upon a shelf
I can draw but one conclusion why we're plagued with such confusion
My philosophy is simple, although some might think it odd
In man's constant search for pleasure; He's misplaced a priceless treasure
A guide for life--for love and happiness by the greatest author--God
by: Al Lauer (all rights reserved)
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"Lonely Little Chapel"
I was traveling, all alone, one Sunday morning--
Thru a little town not very far from home--
All the faces that I saw were those of strangers--
But, they smiled with a joy I've never known
I walked a narrow path, so long and winding--
And a chapel with a cross, came into view--
I heard the voices of a congregation singing--
Hymns of praises--Songs of love and life anew
Yes, a simple, hidden, lonely, little chapel--
With a steeple reaching to the skies above--
Filled with music and the sound of happy people--
Praising Jesus and His everlasting love
So, I walked into that lonely, little chapel--
A stained-glass window was the first to catch my eye--
The image of our Lord and precious Savior--
Kneeling down with His face raised to the sky
Though He knew he was soon to be imprisoned--
Though He knew He'd be crucified to die--
He knew He must do His Father's business--
Now He lives for the sake of you and I
Yes, a simple, hidden, lonely, little chapel--
With a steeple reaching to the skies above--
Filled with music and the sound of happy people--
Praising Jesus and His everlasting love
by: Al Lauer
(all rites reserved)
**dedicated to: Pastor Kyle Key and my friends
at Roxborough Presbyterian Church
***********************************************************
"A Path of Deliverance"
I often think of the years before--
And the many things that I adored--
A little boy with curious eye--
I'd watch the birds as they flew by--
I marveled at their ease of flight--
And how they disappeared at night-
They'd roost, and sleep the night away--
But, with the sun, another day--
The "Sun", another wondrous sight--
How, in the morn, it gives its light--
Its brightness growing, you wonder how--
Its growing warmth--You feel it now--
And, with its rise, it seems to say--
"Sleepy eyes wake up"--"It's now a new day"--
This "Fire-filled" giant" with light so bright--
What a shame it must give way to night.--
My thoughts, now change to other things--
To creatures that will come with spring--
I"d watch a snake behind a glass--
With interest keen, the hours would pass--
With Army life, the guns would roar--
I'd live with death within a war--
I'd pray to God, who's up above--
"Lord, End this war"--"Restore the love"
I wonder if God plans the fate--
To end this world, so filled with hate?--
It's foolish for one war to end--
And have another start again--
It seems so senseless, in my eyes--
Why war lives on and peace will die--
Is it power that will make men strive--
To cause a war and loss of lives?--
But, Power, is the seed of hate--
Is it worth serving satan's fate?--
The fate of war, sometimes is strange--
Through war, man's very life may change--
A soldier, on guard, standing alone--
His mind often wanders to his family back home
Then, suddenly, Combat--Death everywhere--
Terrible fear--Endless despair
In panic, He'll turn to the Lord above--
That invisible Being, with merciful love--
So, based on confusion,--Inspired by fear--
He utters his prayer and our Lord Jesus hears--
The soldier, now knows, that he's not alone--
For, he felt his deliverance and God's glory is shown--
And now, as a Christian, his story, he'll tell--
"I found my Lord Jesus through the terrors of hell!"
I still have my interests, just like before--
But, now, in my heart, it's the Lord I adore--
I now look at nature and the message it brings--
"In the beginning"--"God created these things"
by: Al Lauer
***********************************************************
"Put Him First"
My Savior died for me--Upon the cross of Calvary
He shed His blood for me--to bear my sins and set me free
Jesus, my Savior--Jesus, my King--
Put Him first within your life--
Put Him first ahead of everything
My Savior promised then--He would arise and live again
He lives within my soul--And now my life's in His control
Jesus' my Savior--Jesus, my King--
Put Him first within your life--
Put Him first ahead of everything
My Savior welcomes you--Give Him your life and live anew
He's with you everyday--He's just a simple prayer away
Jesus, my Savior--Jesus, my King--
Put Him first within your life--
Put Him first ahead of everything
by: Al Lauer
(all rites reserved)
***********************************************************
"Jesus"
Jesus--Your my "Rock"--My "Foundation"
You're my "King--You're my "Lord"--
You're the one I'll adore evermore
Jesus--You're my "Strength"--My "Salvation"
Fill my heart --Fill my soul--
Take my sin--Make me whole and secure
You're my "Teacher" -- My "Holy Redeemer"--
You're my "Comfort"--My "Savior" and "King"--
Jesus--You're the "Gift" from the "Father"
Spread Your arms open wide--
In Your Love I'll abide --evermore
by: Al Lauer
***********************************************************
This Poem was written in loving memory of my grandmother, Elmira Lauer. Although the words are quite fitting of her, there are not enough words to adequately decribe the Godly woman and influence she was in our lives. It is with her in mind, that I strive to be the grandmother to my grandchildren that she was to me.
"We Watched our Mom"
We watched our Mom--
Loving--Giving--
A life so rich in its living--
Laughing--Caring-
Constantly loving and sharing--
Thinking of others--
A beautiful, unselfish mother--
Held us together--
She'd talk-- we would feel better
We watched our Mom--
Stricken--Paralized--
Tested- analyzed--
Doctors--Being careful--
Mom remained hopeful and prayerful--
Praying--Talking--
Hoping, someday, she'd be walking--
Her body--Losing feeling--
No sign of a cure or of healing
We watched our Mom---
Laughing--Kidding--
Now, in a wheelchair, she's sitting--
Resigned to her condition--
To be loving was her only mission--
In bed--Laying--
Earnestly--Sincerely Praying--
Talking--To her Savior--
This was her honest behavior
We watched our Mom---
Peaceful--Dying--
All of the family was crying--
Now--They're together--
She'll dwell with Her Savior forever!
**dedicated to our Mom--
"The center of the family"
by: Al Lauer
**********************************************************
A Beautiful Flower in a Broken Pot
Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out patients at the clinic.
One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. "Why, he's hardly taller than my eight-year-old," I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body. But the appalling thing was his face, lopsided from swelling, red and raw.
Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'til morning."
He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success, no one seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face... I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments..."
For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: "I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning."
I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us. "No thank you. I have plenty." And he held up a brown paper bag.
When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn't take a long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury.
He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was preface with thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going.
At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch.
He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said, “Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair." He paused a moment and then added, "Your children made me feel at home.
Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind." I told him he was welcome to come again.
And on his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning.
As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4:00 AM and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.
In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden.
Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these, and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious.
When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning.
"Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!"
Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illnesses would have been easier to bear.
I know our family always will be grateful to have known him; from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.
Recently I was visiting a friend, who has a greenhouse, as she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself, "If this were my plant, I'd put it in the loveliest container I had!"
My friend changed my mind. "I ran short of pots," she explained, and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn't mind starting out in this old pail. It's just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden."
She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven.
"Here's an especially beautiful one," God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. "He won't mind starting in this small body."
All this happened long ago -- and now, in God's garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand.
The LORD does not look at the things man looks at.
Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart." (1 Samuel 16:7b)
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