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When Grace Takes Hold.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

I praise The Lord, dance, sing and shout

With eyes on true life’s Door

Knowing what grace is all about

What Jesus Christ died for

 

Recalling when in shameful sin

Filthy in Satan’s bed

The dreadful state, grace found me in

Living to Jesus, dead

 

Love desires we understand

Forgiveness wears a crown

Still, grace took hold my filthy hand

And stripped away my gown

 

Naked I stood for self to see

Before The King Supreme

The same who died upon the tree

Who’s blood flowed like a stream

 

Grace, my heart soaked deep in light

God’s truth caressed my soul

Whilst love revealed it’s awesome might

And true life’s open goal

 

Accessible is everything

When knowing Christ as Lord

Repentant sinners shout and sing

And death lays down its sword

 

I know this testament is true

On which you rest your gaze

Grace saved this pen now writing you

The changing of my ways

 

Not of self, power, or thought

Not silver gold or jewel

But faithful trusting Christ’s report

Grace raised me Jesus’ tool…..

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Submitted: Monday, July 16, 2018

Last Updated: Monday, July 16, 2018

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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