Another of the same…

In the old hymn books there used to be two versions of the same hymn now and then. They were both printed and the second went under the title, “Another of the same.”

Well, here is “Another of the same” version of  my previous blog, “Sometimes He just smiles…” It is in simple poem form. It came to me in five minutes, which probably shows the influence of steroids  and a better sleep last night as much as the Spirit of God or any artistic ability,  but it brought hope to me and I hope it may bring the same to some of you who might not be managing to be quite where you want to be in terms of your devotional life. By the way, take out my name and put in yours. It is a sort of gospel “Whosoever” poem for any believer who at this moment may be aware of your own weakness but not quite so aware yet, save by trembling faith, that God’s strength is made perfect in that same weakness. He will get you there…don’t worry.

By the way if you haven’t read “Sometimes He just smiles…” maybe it would be good to read that before this! May one or other or both blogs bless you.

Kenny

A meeting in the cellar

I Am is there when I am and when I am not
The Artist in Residence, warm in thought.
His smile says “Welcome,
Wellness will come.
Please don’t worry,
There is no hurry,
Sit with me if you are able,
I know things are not quite so stable.
When thoughts stop jumping
And steroids stop pumping,
Know I am waiting,
Lovingly creating
A work that speaks of grace,
However slow or fast the pace.
I will complete what I have begun,
The whole story is being spun
On eternal looms of perfect love,
Kenny my fair one, Kenny my dove.”

Copyright K.S. Borthwick

8 comments on “Another of the same…

  1. judithjamesdavies says:

    Wow …..

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  2. Robbie Kinnaird says:

    From the heart. To the heart. As always, Kenny.

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  3. Kim Ennis says:

    I have no cellar as retreat
    But there is a path at my feet
    It winds it way,like a distant place
    Where there I’ll rest and not make haste
    It may be the pasture green, or field of the harvest to be gleaned.
    It’s there I see I am no longer alone
    It s there I find the space called home.
    It has no doors, no walls to confine
    It has the sunlight and sound of time
    And By my focus as the dappled shade
    I see those trees on parade Joy and peace oh how they clap
    Jesus light in my darkness, welcomes me back.

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  4. Kim Ennis says:

    I cannot stop singing, No longer slaves.
    I am a child of God.
    Oder and over again.

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  5. Fran Brady says:

    I edit the quarterly magazine of the Scottish Fellowship of Christian Writers (www.sfcw.info) and am always on the lookout for new writing both prose and poetry. Can I use your poem in a forthcoming issue? Credited to you or anon, as you dictate. If you prefer anon, we can delete the last line.

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