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Now I know.

Trust falling on a daggers edge.
Will leave a deeper wound,
when you reach the end.
you bashed out your songs
and they spoke of what I could not
A rebellious teen-ager
dumb struck and hoarse
The art of solitude
is measured in eternity
Writing graffiti
and finger painting walls
He was a young lad and in the fourth grade
Struggling hard for the grades he made.
Everything he tried seemed to vanish in the air
For he could not read and there was no one to care.

The teacher made fun of the young boy’s plight
No compassion, understanding, was ever in sight.
The days were filled with doubt and fear
He was told to repeat grade four next year.

Starting the fourth the second time around
A new school, a new teacher, made his heart pound.
For the world to see, on the card it came
The very first day he had to spell his name.

J - E - E - R - Y came out of the pen
The letters did appear to be correct just then.
The teacher bent close and whispered in his ear
“One E and two R’s, I think you meant dear.”

He fell in love with the teacher that day
She knew his heart and just what to say.
She knew the pain that the young boy felt
And all the embarrassment the past year dealt.

Miss Hagness, the angel, had come to his aid
He sensed her love and was no longer afraid.
Like the gentle Shepherd, reaching down from above
She taught him to read by her affection and love.

He went on to college to prepare for a life
Giving to help others with trouble and strife.
Pastor Jerry’s the Shepherd of many a heart
With love and compassion from the fourth grade did start.



===============================================
Teacher­ Part II
The story told in verse is about my pastor. It is about the struggles of a lad who was ridiculed in school because of a reading disorder called dyslexia. It is about how the system would have let him sink into oblivion but for the personal interest of a young teacher who came into his life the second time he went through the fourth grade. A teacher who had compassion in her heart for the boy and helped him discover the talents that lay hidden deeply within him. The talents that allowed God to develop within him, developed a compassion for others and a giving of himself first as a youth pastor for many years and then for the first time as a senior pastor.

It is also a story of how indifference toward others can lead to destruction of a young mind to the point of total loss of self worth. It is about the deep wounds that can be inflected by the harsh words we speak. Such words can never be retrieved from the abyss of time. How many times do we fail to see or ignore what we see because it does not conveniently fit into our schedule and in the process, contribute in the destruction of a life?

If we are teachers, mentors, leaders, or just breathing, we can share the pain of others to ease their burdens and encourage them in the difficult times. As we share the pain of others, we gain the right to share the joy in their triumphs and successes.

The story came from a message delivered on Sunday morning May 1, 1999. The poem wrote itself from the words spoken in that message. Can we do anything less than what the young teacher did for the boy? As God leads us, let us listen to the still small voice. The voice may be the voice of a child pleading for help, the voice of our Father directing each of us in the path we must travel. Be ever aware of the opportunities that God lays in our path. Maybe just doing only what is required and not seeing beyond ourselves we miss seeing the potential of a young mind. Could this be the greatest disservice we could do to our Father?

Oh God, give me the wisdom to see the promise and potential in others and be led by Your hand in molding the young mind.

It is written, “Though you have done it unto the least of these, you have done it unto me.”
© May 1, 1999
John L. Stevens
Our leaders make promises
They cannot fulfill

They overspend their budget
And we foot The bill

They send The troops
To faraway lands

Yet none of them focus
On the problems at hand

We've people in our country
Who just don't belong

It has nothing to do with race
But because they did it wrong

They cut our defense
They cut education

That's two bad decisions
One more  = end of our nation
Everywhere I look
Visions of you

Ghostly images
Blurred and out of focus

I can't seem to shake it
This strange hocus pocus

I want you to leave
But I don't want to forget

The love that we shared
From The moment we met

I cannot move forward
Your love haunts me so

Will my heart mend
I really don't know

I travel through my days
With no end in sight


No matter What I try
You're still my hearts light
Death
Is a fact of life
So what is all this strife
About everlasting life?
I think that would ****
I don't want eternal life
Because I don't want to worry
About where I go after wards
And
The answer
Seems quite simple
You go into the ground
And are eaten by decomposers
Who only get ten percent of the energy consumed
Why?
Do we have to worry about where we are going?
It seems pretty obvious to me
Disguised as a shadow,
Creeping among the pools of people.
I watch carefully.
Reading every movement.

My eyes glitter in the light,
It blinds me.
I blink once, twice.
I now can see.

Living in the shadows,
You see everyone change.
Around you they age,
And become wise.

No one senses what you feel,
You fake a smile to appease them at will.
They dont know my pain.

Now as I walk,
Within the pool of people.
A riot has started.
Between them,
And my people.

Dont test the shadows...

It may be your demise.
Walk  within the shadows..
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