A Call To The Remnant

Scottish Warriors for Christ- http://www.facebook.com/acalltotheremnant

Will you come to Me?

Posted by appolus on October 30, 2013

Many times in my Christian life I have run from God. Let me explain that. In some of my toughest trials, my tendency is to present a ” stiff upper lip,” as they say in Britain. To stand stoically and unmovable in the midst of trial. While some of this is positive, standing firm and all that, the weakness is in the ” shutting down,” emotionally and becoming detached as a way of dealing with problems. Problem is, to do this, one becomes detached from the presence of the living God, the very cure for a heart turned cold. In those times, sometimes weeks or months, my God has never failed to come looking for me. He should not have to come look for me, but He does. This is the synopsis of the poem below.

Why is it, in some of my roughest times
I run from You?
Frank my child, I call to you
Will you come to me?

I come to You, I run to You
I’m coming in from the cold
My hands held high, my heart opened wide
Here in your presence with nowhere left to hide

Sometimes life just beats you down
And comes against your very soul
Wave after wave they keep on coming
Surviving one more day becomes your only goal

I come to You, I run to You
I’m coming in from the cold
My hands held high, my heart opened wide
Here in your presence with nowhere left to hide

And so Lord here I am, broken and contrite
So many times that I have missed the mark
And when I’ve fallen short, I have run from you
And when I do I end up in the dark

I come to You, I run to You
I’m coming in from the cold
My hands held high, my heart opened wide
Here in your presence with nowhere left to hide

You have seen my tears, have you seen my tears?
Sometimes it seems that I am all alone
Barely remembering the many days gone by
When I worshiped before Your Holy throne

I come to You, I run to You
I’m coming in from the cold
My hands held high, my heart opened wide
Here in your presence with nowhere left to hide

The rain’s still falling but there’s sunshine in my heart
I am filled with the warmth of your love
The road ahead’s not clear but your love casts out all fear
Of Your presence I can never get enough

I come to You, I run to You
I’m coming in from the cold
My hands held high, my heart opened wide
Here in your presence with nowhere left to hide

2 Responses to “Will you come to Me?”

  1. Susanne Schuberth (Germany) said

    I love your poem, Frank.

    Q: Who would ever seek the Lord’s presence unless the Father draws him?

    A: Not me, actually. 🙂

    I often wonder about God’s graciousness toward my ongoing failure to seek His presence more than once or twice daily.

    But whenever I seemingly bring myself to pray more often, I am not only overwhelmed by His unconditional love and His blessings of peace and joy, but I must rather state, “My Lord, it has always been You who pushed me to seek You again and again and…”
    And thus I realized that I can’t do anything without His help (Jn 15:5), even in this field.

    Off-topic…
    It’s been a few days now since I’m ‘checking’ your site, Frank. 😉
    And I must confess that I do like what I read. It is exceedingly important to know that we are not alone in this spiritual struggle here on earth, and I am glad to see that you and others have a share in this, admittedly often painful, yet also more and more peaceful process of sanctification which prunes of everything that might hinder us from constantly beholding His face and being completely lost in His love.

    Every blessing to you and all your readers,

    Susanne

    • appolus said

      Dear sister Susanne, how wonderful to be speaking to a German sister. I know I get a lot of hits from Germany so it is good to be communicating with you. Amen to everything you said and indeed the Lord draws us and calls us. I am glad the poem touched you. I have another facebook page with just my poems, you can click on the link on my home page on the left hand side, I pray that you may find blessings there………..bro Frank

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