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Poem of Praise a day in December
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by
M.L.
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Dec 14, 2021 12:19PM

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In my closet and in my crises,
amidst my anguish,
beneath my burdens,
He hears me.
When I’m tottering under tasks
and my children clamor,
when the world is woefully loud,
He hears me.
There is no wilderness nor wound
that can keep Him from
hearing my plea.
Only my silence.
Speak.
God hears.

“Take my yoke upon you.”
I grunt under my burden.
“Why do you want me to take on more?
I can barely lift what I already have.”
“Come, take my yoke upon you.”
I glance at the load He carries—
the weight of the world.
My load is tiny, is nothing, compared,
but even it is too much.
“Come,” He beckons.
“I’m so busy right now.
Maybe tomorrow,
when I’m less tired.”
“Come.”
I come.
I slip into the harness of His yoke,
bracing for the weight to crush me.
Instead the burden that weighed every moment
lifts from my shoulders.
His hand squeezes mine,
and He nods for us to step forward together.
“My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
- inspired by Matt 11:28-30 and Mosiah 24:14-15

The blind, begging by the wayside.
The leper, unclean and shunned.
The woman taken in adultery.
The social pariah publican.
All rejected.
Except by Him.
He hears the blind man’s pleas.
He touches the leper’s decaying flesh.
He lifts the woman to a new life.
He enters the publican’s home.
He loves each one.
Seeking and ministering,
One by one.
And one by one
the broken find
peace and healing.
—Inspired by 2 Nephi 26:27-28

Wise men brought gifts:
gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
The shepherds brought gifts too:
Immediate obedience
to go and see.
Humble worship
to a baby lying in a manger.
Shared testimony
to all.
I don’t have gold, frankincense or myrrh to give.
But I can give gifts like the shepherds’.
—Inspired by Luke 2:15-17
