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How Much You Love Me
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

 

How Much You Love Me

 

When first I sought my Saviour’s face

Tears of joy I cried

Feeling the first sweet touch of grace

The leap it bought inside

 

O sweet and tender God I Am

O Ancient One supreme

Displaying love through Christ Your Lamb

Beyond my wildest dream

 

I’ve seen The Light The Truth is mine

My eyes are trained above

I’ve ate The Bread I’ve drank The Wine

And seek to walk in love

 

Support me in my plight my King

Assist me on The Way

Allow my song on eagle’s wing

Delight You night and day

 

To walk Your Way, restore my sight

In Yours, hold tight my hand

Be with me through the vale of night

And help me understand

 

With faith my God You give me hope

Your Holy Ghost’s as Guide

Power to stand the will to cope

Through Jesus at my side

 

You saw my filth when running wild

Willingly drenched in shame

Yet washed me clean and reconciled

To bear Your holy name

 

My God how much You must love me

How much You truly care

You died to save, to set me free

Eternity to share.....

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Submitted: Monday, April 4, 2016

Last Updated: Monday, April 4, 2016

About the Poet
I never wrote a word of poetry in my life. Till the day Jesus took my hand and touched my soul.....I invite your response. However most poems are not about me! Very few are. But the feed-back good, bad or indifferent is always desired. Not meant to offend, but I write about many things in many a guise. Of life, death, lost, found, saved, backsliders, new comers, repenting souls, doubting hearts, heathens, Christians, fire, water, Satan's daughter, wallowing in sin, saved, made sound walking in Light, graceful righteous. Suffering, ecstatic, bored, excited, sad, delighted, Sick, well, lame, able, living, dying, etc. etc. etc. Writing about anything, everything and everyone as the spirit leads. All meant to reveal, waken, revive, encourage, shame, help. Gladden, pick up, exalt, portrait, liberate. Again over 99% of my work is not about me. Although at times I write as though I were or am. Speaking e.g. in the first person. This is quite common even in the bible itself. Prophets speak of themselves, then God speaks, again the prophet, then God......Quite often it's difficult to distinguish whom it is that at any given time is speaking or narrating.

Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

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