Homesick

 

Neal Pollard

This time of year our minds go back
To days gone by, down memory’s track
Of laughter, stories, food and walks
Singing, sharing family history and talks

Some who once were in our clannish stable
Have left our banquets for the heavenly table
Childhood recollections may be larger than life
And death or loss may cut like the proverbial knife

Football played on the lawn or watched on the screen
Presents opened and distant relatives seen
For the blessed, much spiritual guidance and contemplation
And talk of our hope and our common anticipation

Do you miss those times of hearth or home?
Or revel in its prospect, when kids and kin soon will come?
Are you in the company of those Scripture upholds?
Those who desire a better country, with streets of clear gold?

Who are longing for a room in the Father’s house?
To bask in the Light that no tears can ever douse?
To stroll the banks by the gentle River Of Life,
A place of happiness, joy, peace, but no strife.

A place full of family, both known or which we meet
Of those we met in Scripture or those who made our lives sweet?
Are you longing for something far better than here,
Where sight replaces faith, where peace tramples fear?

Is your life centered around new heavens, new earth
Where righteousness dwells, only those of the new birth?
Do you long for what happens after being put in the ground
The home of the soul where eternity is found?

Let’s long for and live for that heavenly land
Where we’ll see God’s dear face and hold Jesus’ hand.

15134633_10154142971300922_7849930186330223016_n
Thanksgiving 1994, at Gary and Brenda Pollard’s house (baby is Gary)

A Proverb To Ponder

Neal Pollard

Now, not all our attenders are members,
And not all our members are attenders,
But if all our attenders were members,
And all our members were attenders

THEN…

We’d have more trouble menders,
More gospel defenders,
And more true soul-winners!

BUT…

We’d have fewer people offenders,
Fewer spiritual hinderers,
And fewer religious pretenders!

SO…

Let us all render a more tender surrender
To the Commander of a love full of splendor!
As we meander on this earth full of sinners,
Let us engender a life with the Lord at the center.

Before You Type Or Talk Today

 

Neal Pollard

A pick, a poke, a controversy,
Hit and run, a verbal grenade,
We may see it as clever, though without mercy
And own it like an accolade

But are we making people think
When what and how we say it scars?
If it causes a stir, a strife, a stink
Instead of edifying it maligns and mars?

People should be thinking anyway
And what they think should be of good report
Let’s meditate on what we say
Not load up on sarcastic, sardonic retort.

The world already knows that tactic
And uses it at the drop of scarf and hat
It brightens no story, dresses up no didactic
But stokes the fire and escalates the spat

Here’s something requiring greater skill
You won’t find it in general practice
Restraint and kindness, grace and good will
Be a rose in a field of cactus.

When entering today the public sphere
And the marketplace of varied ideas
Let the Jesus in you shine bright and clear
So they can look at you and believe He is!

imageedit_39_6587200324-compressed

In Awe Of The Greatest Freedom

 

Neal Pollard

I once was without representation,
Not a citizen of that chosen nation,
Enslaved and oppressed,
Deprived of the best,
And discouraged by my lowly station,

But my freedom was bought at a price,
With the one ransom that would suffice,
Sweet liberty was bought,
And my freedom I sought,
When I opted for virtue instead of vice.

Independence is becoming and sweet,
It is found when I fall at His feet,
And make Him my Master,
I avoid pain and disaster,
He offers me victory for my defeat.

I celebrate privileged position,
Embrace His heavenly mission,
Knowing the blessings He gives,
Is because He still lives,
He hears the faithful disciple’s petition.

As we celebrate the blessings in this land,
Bestowed by a Providential hand,
Let us never forget,
That He paid our great debt,
He’s preparing what’s infinitely more grand.

Whatever may become of our dear country,
I pray that our eyes will always see,
That no earthly place is home,
We are strangers who will roam,
’Til we reach the Great City across the sea.

flag-468345_640

God Revealed (poem)

Neal Pollard

The mighty arm of creation, brooding or building
The hand that tipped the canopy, drowning sinners
The finger that stirred the languages, babblers yielding
The heart that made the heirs of Abram winners

The Majesty presented in a bush, resilient though burning
The Master who through plagues made Pharaoh submit
The Merciful One who longed for Israel’s returning
The Measuring Rod whose justice sin did not acquit.

The everlasting to everlasting, whose word’s a holy knife
Inhabitant of the heavens, swaddling Incarnate babe
Kindling Spirit, Father, Son, the way, truth and life
Perfect in character, with power the obedient to save.

Gatekeeper of heaven, consigner of the wicked to hell
Served by angels, ruler of the living and the dead
Spirit, love and light, divinest nature not one part frail
Eyes all-seeing, mind all-knowing, power unlimited.

Hope of the hopeless, joy for the tearful mourner
Source of strength for the heavy-laden soul
Lifter of the penitent fallen, all-glory adorner
Author of salvation who one day will call the judgment roll.

Since He is and is rewarder, let not one refuse His order!
If Satan’s power you’d have repealed, obey the God the word’s revealed!

IMG_1199

A Tale Of Two Crosses

Neal Pollard

“Tell us father, were you really there that day?

Did they make you take His burden the rest of the way?”

“Son, I stood in the crowd when I got my painful commission,

And they thrust it on me without asking my permission.

He was staggering and bloody and gripped by exhaustion

I was pressed into service, whether expediency or precaution.

The skull-shaped brow scowled back from a distance,

As I offered that Sufferer my lowly assistance

I was far from the lush valley that cradled my idyllic town

In the bustling, boisterous crowd full of heckles and frowns

Taking outside of Jerusalem this rough-hewn beam

Accompanied by His friends and more foes, what a curious team

Every step in the cacophony of the heckling hateful

When I got to the spot, I was wearily grateful

To cease my assignment and be through with this affront

But I stayed long enough to see men with a malice so blunt

Take the man I relieved and affix Him securely

To the implement I’d carried so slowly but surely

With frightening precision they attached Him with nails

To the cross which they lifted, oblivious to any wails

For the pain, sons, I know must have been unrelenting

As I watched this plain gentleman hang, with no champions dissenting.

No, the crowd with their clamors. bloodthirsty and wild

Made a contrast with this Man, His face loving and mild.

He hung for six hours, and during that ordeal,

Things happened that day, both incredible and surreal.

At the end, after the torture and the mockery were through,

He’d said, “Father, forgive these who know not what they do.”

Now He offered the Father Himself, His own spirit,

I wonder how many of the rabble there could hear it.”

Alexander and Rufus, the sons of this infamous servant

Had a father involved in a task he did, whether feckless or fervent.

We know him today, though we know not what became of the man.

Did it cause him to follow or, like Pilate, to wash his hands.

Was the Rufus of Romans Simon’s son, whom Paul adored?

Was Alexander the villain Paul scornfully deplored?

We won’t know on this earth just who all these men were,

Though we’d like a clear picture in place of the blur,

But we know on that morning, when we gained by Christ’s loss,

That this Simon of Cyrene carried Jesus’ cross.

Today we are called to assume a great load,

Not His cross, but ours, is the burden that’s bestowed.

The cross of self-denial, we must kill our self-rule

And be His, day by day, until our journey is through.

cross_in_sunset

Reflections At Middle Age

Neal Pollard

The first few decades we rush ahead
Wanting time to fly, but it creeps instead
Impatient to be older, sure that it’s our way
To freedom and happiness, where we’ll leisurely play.
Sure enough time goes rapidly by
Flashing so speedily, we watch it fly
Moments of grandeur, days that are grueling
Ordinary stretches our quick lives fueling
Soon the road in our rearview stretches much longer
Our foot on the brakes, though the pace is much stronger
The road out before us is sloped and quick,
We savor the present, future curves might make us sick.
But we know that this journey, so speedily taken
Will reach its destination, there’s no mistaking.
There’s still plenty of grand views on the side of this road
But we encounter new impediments and a heavier load
How could we go faster, as there are higher hills to climb?
Yet this road is so short and is hemmed in by time.
I praise God this journey is not a dead end,
I’m traveling to see my dear Savior and friend,
Who’s waiting my coming, however many more miles,
Where days are not counted, and tears become smiles.
That’s free of all calendars and increases in age,
And length of existence stretches one eternal page.
The law of averages says I’m about halfway through,
Or perhaps a bit farther, so here’s what I’ll do,
Make the most of each moment, helping others prepare
For a happy destination, showing how to get there.

180778_494356300921_2048026_n
Me on the right with my sister, Mendy, and friend, Zack Carter. About 1973.

THE HUMAN HEART (POEM)

Neal Pollard

That part of each man crafted by God
But unseen by mortal observation,
That figurative place of our emotions and thinking
Helping our spiritual station.
A place where we alone can nurture and tend,
To work to better or embitter
That directs our whole body and life on a path
That makes us a winner or quitter.
God put in place ways to help our own heart
Stay in tune to His perfect intentions.
To mold us and make us like Him in our thinking,
To stave off man’s wicked inventions.
The Bible, as His mind, He has given to mankind,
A heart monitor as well as a mirror.
It gauges our true selves and guides our footsteps,
If used it will make His will dearer.
He has given us music, a wide world of nature,
And people as living examples,
So much that exists we can see and by seeing
Can resist Satan’s slick sinful samples.
Yes, true, human hearts can be darkened and hardened,
Becoming a frightful container,
That holds in the worst, the depraved and perverted,
That becomes such a wicked retainer.
But such is the work of neglect and of lust,
A struggle that fights a higher objective,
For when in human hearts there’s willing submission,
They become more spiritually selective.
So spiritual battles are lost or they’re won
In a place where no other can see,
Keep your heart, you alone with heavenly help
Will determine your soul’s eternity.

See The Living God (Poem)

Neal Pollard

I cannot stop staring at the mountains and the skies

The beauty is so breathless, an endless feast for my eyes

I cannot look at all this and give credit to luck or chance

I’m a victor of the Creator, not a victim of circumstance.

The heavens preach this sermon, Our God He loves and lives

All nature shares the message, what joy and hope it gives

He’s up in heaven waiting until the day He’ll bring us home

For now He’s left us evidence, and we pray, “Lord Jesus, come.”

I cannot stop looking into my little baby’s eyes

I see his parents’ imprint when he laughs and when he cries

In awe my tears are welling as his face shows eternity

This little one God’s endless power shows to all who clearly see

You cannot look at people and fail to see the living God

Our design says a designer, to say “no God” is to play the fraud

He’s patiently waiting for more people to come to Him and live

What will you do with this moment?  Give what you have to give.

I cannot stop reading this Book that explains it all

My cause, my purpose, my destiny, His plan, His way, His call

It has proven to be perfect, it’s been tried and tried again.

It says there is an answer to my problem it calls sin.

The Bible shares the mind of God, it helps us find the way

It helps us understand His heart, and how to live today

It pierces our hearts so we’ll make room to put His will inside

How great our God to show us the path where we can walk at His side

THE GIRL ON THE WINDOW OR THE AISLE?

Neal Pollard
Two women sitting on a plane
They didn’t seem acquainted
The “aisle one” seemed in anger and pain
The other by cares seemed untainted
“Window woman” smiled with a beam
As past their row I filed
The other was cursing at a full steam
She was ruffled, rankled and riled
After the flight, we all stood to go
I watched as the ladies departed
The grouser was healthy, with youthful glow
But from her my eyes quickly darted
To watch the other one get to the aisle
I marveled at what I could see
Her left arm was mangled from something vile
She was amputated above that same knee.
I heard her, soft-spoken, tell of her surviving
A car fire that happened last June
But she lost her dear husband, who was driving.
They were so in love. Yes, she lost him too soon.
But the twinkle reappeared as thought about him
And anticipated their ultimate reunion
She still had much to live for, she wasn’t a bit grim
For with Christ she said she had sweet communion.
Soberly, I left still thinking about this
As the jet bridge I left for the concourse
There was “aisle girl” causing a scene hard to miss
Yelling until she was almost hoarse.
Apparently the airline had failed to upgrade
Her from lowly coach up to first class
She was special, important, so went her tirade
But her language was lowbrow and crass.
I thought about me in that moment
All healthy, without big losses or trouble
How I handle my blessings or treat my opponent
When I’m tried, am I gold or am I stubble?
Some people’s problems eclipse ours, it’s true
But we all have our crosses to bear
Yet, when you’re under pressure, they see what’s in you
Will they want what you’ll inevitably share?
I went on my way after what I witnessed that day
Resolved to live in true, Christlike style
Every thought, feeling, deed, and think that I say
Is like that girl on the window or the aisle.