No Eye Has Seen

These are the lyrics to the song we sang this afternoon for our grandfather's 70th birthday thanksgiving service. Building upon my favorite Bible verse, this song describes how wonderful human deeds and thoughts can be...but still be incomparable to what the Lord has prepared for those who love Him. Amazing, isn't it?

Verse 1:
The architect may draw his scale,
The doctor help his frail,
The navigator hoist his sail,
The author write his tale.
Yet none of them could ever show
The wonders of His hand,
For what the Lord has done for us
No man can understand.

Chorus:
No eye has seen,
No ear has heard,
No mind has e’er conceived
What Jesus Christ
Has long prepared
For those who have believed.

Verse 2:
Musicians write their symphonies,
The lawyer makes his pleas,
While tycoons plant their companies,
Philanthropists their trees.
Yet none of them could ever show
The wonders of His hand,
For what the Lord has done for us
No man can understand.

Bridge:
Who can understand His ways,
So higher than our own?
Who can fathom His intent,
Except Himself alone?

Arise and Sing, Ye Children of God

This is probably the very first hymn I ever wrote. At age 13, I read a novel on hymn appreciation and consequently wrote this simple composition. It's not a perfect work. The thoughts are vague and the meter inconsistent. But even if only for nostalgia's sake, I treasure this hymn in my memory.

Arise and sing, ye children of God,
Bring forth great praises to Him;
He is our Lord, our Savior, our Rock,
Come praise Him from deep within.

His glory expands to all of the earth,
His blessings abundant still;
Return unto Him, whom glory is due,
Great praises with all goodwill.

Almighty god, Creator of all,
Receive now our humble praise;
Thou art the God of spirit and truth,
To Thee our voices we raise.

The Sanctuary

The inspiration for this poem came when I was strolling about our church's empty sanctuary. I do not find this poem perfect, but I enjoyed writing the imagery, and I love reading it as well.

A spacious room with wooden walls,
White tiles over the floor;
A carpet where the shadow falls,
Small boxes by the door,
Four-columned pews in mannered lines,
Five steps towards the stage,
A pulpit wires and screens define,
Two vases—flow’rs don’t age,
A piano on the speaker’s right,
An organ to the left,
A drum set tops the choir room’s flight,
A book the pianist left,
Two screens announcing nothingness,
Two tow’ring panes of glass,
Some scattered forms for ev’rythingness,
A stack of Supper’s brass
Upon the table, oh so big,
More wires squirm on the floor,
Some dust the naughty kids will dig,
More wires and more and more,
An echo through the empty space,
No lights to show the way,
Communion’s blanket made of lace,
A beckoning to stay,
How warm the welcome there for me,
When weighed by pain and loss,
I step inside our sanc’tuary
And gaze upon that cross.