Poems

Here is a collection of most of the poems I have written in the past couple of years:

He of Whom Prophets Had Spoken

The Father cried tears
The Son's heart was broken
Yes, this was He
Of whom prophets had spoken

The Lamb on a cross
The God on a tree
The King crowned with thorns
In shame and glory

What love there displayed!
What justice was done
When God, in pain
Gave His only Son

Darkness surrounds Him
Bruised, bloody, naked
He cries in the silence
"Why have You forsaken?"

His question resounds
In my quivering heart
Breathless, I listen
Then it pierces the dark:

"It is finished!" His voice
Shakes me, and the earth
Convulses and mourns
As He suffers the curse

We fall to the ground
In terror and wonder
I tremble to watch
The Trinity sundered

Who is this God?
This God on a tree
It should have been me
It should have been me

For I slapped Him and scorned Him
I mocked Him that day
Yet, "Father, forgive them"
Was all He would say

The tears of the Father
Break into my soul
I look to my Savior
Shattered, made whole

He saved me by grace
Conquered death by His love
He is risen, and now
Interceding above

Forget not this story
It cost God His life
Remember His love
Remember the price

The Father cried tears
The Son's heart was broken
Yes, this was He
Of whom prophets had spoken.

July 5, 2014

The Inn

I'm running

Over hills of green, with clouds above

A thunder crash spurs me on

As sky touches earth with rain

The masses above, rolling, enfolding

Black like midnight ink

A flash lights my way

Fading in the misty grey

I'm soaking

Clothes plastered to my skin

I look behind and hurry on

I search, look for the place

Where shelter may be found

Beneath the leafy green

To hide, from storm unseen

I'm tired

The distance stretches on

The pounding of my weary feet

Along the path, echoing

The beating of my heart

With short, panting breath

Pausing for a rest

I'm kneeling

Who cares about the mud

Rain and mist swirl around

No song of bird, nor snap of twig

To break the stillness now

I bow my dripping head

And hear a voice, instead

I'm here

Get up, go on My child

Don't stay here in the rain

For just ahead, o'er one more hill

Awaits a little Inn

It's safe and dry

There now, don't cry

I'm walking

The rain begins to cease

And sun lights up the path

My hand in His, we reach the top

Look, I see the Inn!

He, smiling, urges me

So I run, eagerly

I'm running

June 12, 2013

Fill Me

Before Thy throne of grace I bow;

Speechless, it seems, to say

The things that You already know

Are on my heart today.

I find myself here once again --

An everyday routine;

But Lord, today, You see I thirst;

I plead with You, fill me.

Fill me, and take my prideful heart,

My fearful tendency,

My quest for recognition and

My self-sufficiency.

Take all these things, and in their place,

Give me a strong desire

To glorify my King alone,

Be lighted with Your fire.

Lord, move me where Your Spirit leads,

To go where You may call,

To say what You would have me say,

To willingly give all.

It may not be on mountain's height,

Or over stormy sea,

It may not be at battle's front,

Where God may soon need me;

If by a still, small voice He calls

To paths I do not know,

I'll answer with my hand in Thine,

I'll go, my Lord, I'll go.

But now, I pray, "Fill me."

This is my earnest plea.

Valerie Jacobson

Jan. 2, 2012

The Painter’s Canvass

Nov. 5, 2011

Standing in the golden light,

The Painter, brush in hand;

The canvass sits, incomplete,

Awaits His soft command.

The bristles brush back and forth;

Yellow, green, and blue,

Black and white, purple, pink,

But wait, here’s something new.

His brush He plunges in the red

And draws it, poised to strike…

Stop! That corner’s set, it’s dry;

What’s there not to like?

With shaking head He sweeps across,

“No, not done quite yet.”

The black on white, now in part

Veiled by paint still wet.

Who am I to question

The One who’s painting me?

But why, oh why, must He hide

The art we once could see?

I know I’m not the Painter,

I cannot see it all,

The Master Artist knows what’s best

And He will make that call.

Sometimes I feel the need to paint

The picture of my life:

“Look here, this fine design I’ve drawn,

Now paint it green and white.”

Patiently, with gaze intent

The Painter carries on,

Undaunted by what seems to me

A masterpiece gone wrong.

Stepping back, He eyes His work;

A smile plays on His lips.

He chooses now the finest brush

For such a time as this.

He dips it gently in the gold

And with each careful stroke,

Unveils the beauty in His mind;

This never was a joke.

Who am I to question

The One who’s painting me?

Why ever did I doubt His skill,

His great ability?

Because I’m not the Painter

I cannot see how much

The artistry will be revealed

In His final touch.

Standing in the golden light,

The Painter, brush in hand;

The canvass sits, incomplete

Awaits His soft command.

The Edge

June 19, 2011 

Close to the edge

But not close enough to see

Hard to imagine

What will there be?

I step a little closer

Hesitant to even peek

A knowledge of the other side

Not sure I want to seek

I peer from a safe distance

Into the great unknown

Too blurry, it hurts the eyes

And I turn. I'm not alone.

Twenty-five pairs of eyes

All return my gaze

Look out there; look at each other

As if we're in a daze

We step a little closer

Catch a glimpse of what lies ahead

Expecting to see 26 together

Realizing we'll be apart, instead

A dull ache begins to grow

Excitement, sadness, fear

I quickly shut my eyes

Must not shed the first tear

We think of all the memories --

Of how the Lord, our Guide

Brought us here, once just a class

Now a Family, close and tried

Hand in hand, we look again

Out to the world beyond

A spark has lit within our hearts

In Christ we'll keep this bond

We must not let the spider web

Of not too long ago

Ever break, though time and space

May come between. Do not let go.

And we'll go forth, beyond the edge

To greater heights unknown

We'll trust each other to the Lord

And pray, for it's been shown

That a people, a class who puts Him first

Shall reap a great reward

Though we are sad to leave each other

It's a price we can afford

For God is eagerly waiting

Preparing our home in Heaven

To welcome our Family into His

The Class of 2011

Press On

April 21, 2011

Words and Music by Valerie Jacobson and Jessica Hall

With Thanks to Anna Fink and Cyrus Guccione
All Praise Goes to God

1st Vs:

"Lord, the battle's raging;

It's drawn out through the night.

I just don't think I have the strength

To keep up with the fight.

The dawn begins to rise;

I see more clearly in the light.

The enemy looks stronger

With overwhelming might. 

Chorus:

And You say:

"Look up to Me, don't let your courage ever falter.

The battle seems uphill; take heart, I've called you higher.

Just take My word, unsheathe the sword,

With prayer you'll not go wrong.

I will give you strength; press on."

2nd Vs:

When I think the battle's over

The foe attacks again

Lord, let me not my guard let down

Or to my self give in. 

For inside there is a battle

And self the enemy.

Pride, temptation, circumstance:

The chains of self I see. 

Chorus:

"But look up to Me, don't let your courage ever falter.

The battle seems uphill; take heart, I've called you higher.

Just take My word, unsheathe the sword,

With prayer you'll not go wrong.

I will give you strength; press on."

Bridge:

But when you see the standard falling,

And you fear that all is lost;

You must hear the Captain calling,

"Go forward, count the cost."

Last Chorus:

"Look up to Me, don't let your courage ever falter.

The battle seems uphill; take heart, I've called you higher.

Just take My word, unsheathe the sword,

With prayer you'll not go wrong.

I will give you strength,

Oh, I will give you strength,

I will give you strength; press on."

A Soldier's Prayer

January 22, 2011

Lord, I'm tired of it all,

tired of fighting, of taking

a few steps, but then fall;

It's not just the old ones,

but the young soldiers too;

At least this one,

she's one of the few

who to her comrades may appear

to hold nothing in life

'cept Your mission dear.

But it's a lie.

Now don't get me wrong --

To die for that mission,

she enlisted, with strong

resolve to complete.

To go forward

To forsake all for the call

and count all but loss

no matter the cost.

But in the thick of battle

resolve starts to break.

When the mighty foe presses in,

how much more can she take?

I have not the strength

To meet the strength

of the attacks

To return blow for blow

I'm being pushed back

Who is this foe?

Who makes the attack?

from within.

It is me. My self.

And I

hold Your mission dear.

This soldier, her focus clear

at times. But the enemy

Has infiltrated

Has betrayed

Has battled

Has blurred

Made dear to her these things else:

pride, desire, temptation --

The chains of self.

I have not the strength

To shake off these chains.

But I will try again

I will fight again

I will somehow win

And You say:

"Will you stop living a lie?

Yes, you must try again.

Yes, you must fight again.

Yes, you will somehow win.

But not with those chains on.

It is My mission or those,

what will you choose?

"The choice is yours

But you have not the strength."

This soldier has not the strength to battle at all

She takes a few steps, but then falls.

She holds dear the chains

She holds dear Your mission

She fights with confusion.

She cannot see

But she will go forward

Forsake all for the call

Count all but loss

No matter the cost.

I have not the strength

But You are my Strength

Break the chains

Return the blows

Push self back

Press the attack

I will somehow win.

Contemplation

June 19, 2010

How can one feel

So numb and careless

Yet they are broken inside?

Why is it,

When it feels as if

I will break down and cry,

Instead it feels my heart is stone…

Or gone?

Perhaps that’s what it is:

My brain wants to feel, but

My heart

Is not there to feel it?

Yet everyone has one,

Somewhere.

That is why

I feel this way.

Maybe I’ve been ready so long,

And even my feeble attempts

At self-control

Have been all too successful,

Leaving me,

A confused pile of thoughts.

How can one look

So happy and cool,

Yet inward conflicts rage?

It’s a skill

I’m having to learn.

But

Is it fake?

Is it right?

Is it cowardly?

Is it strong?

It is reality.

Building that wall

Does not appeal to me,

But sometimes

It has to happen,

Else the knife that tears at me

Will turn on others too.

Then how to escape

This sad reality?

I’m searching for the answer,

And yet I already know.

It’s You Lord

With whom I must not build that wall.

When it’s not right to burden others

With all my numb pain,

Depressed happiness,

Excited fear,

Sorrowful gladness,

I can go to You

And know I’m safe.

‘Cause the knife in me

Has already been felt by You

On a hill far away.

So Lord, I’ll say

I’ve fallen on my face

Again,

Or I’m in the process.

Catch me, pick me up.

Hug me, patch me up.

Love me, fill my cup.

“For when I am weak,

Then I am strong.”

Wait

April 26, 2010

  Last night the Lord said to me

"Wait" when I asked Him to make me see—

—Make sense of the confusion raging in me.

Too much to think about, it was no wonder

That it hurt too much to ponder

About it all, and not just that,

But I was tired of thinking,

Tired of blinking back tears,

When I just couldn't figure out

What God was telling me about.

I felt Your voice speaking inside;

When I called, You did not hide.

But You said it wasn't for me to know

The answers all at once and so

You said "Wait."

"What for?" I asked, but that was all.

I didn't complain, You answered the call.

But still, Lord, I can't help but ask:

How long till You lift the mask?

I guess that in reality

You really said, "Just wait and see."

So Lord that's what I'm choosing to do,

I'll just have to trust in You.

'Cause I know all things work together for good

For those who love You, and even if I could,

Not for the world would I let go of You;

You're the One who has brought me through

All the rough times before.

I just can't wait to see what You have in store.

Till then I'll wait patiently

And treasure the peace You've given me.

Lord, just please hold me up,

'Cause like I've said, one hand is not enough.

I heard Your warning, that it will be tough,

That it will be hard, but I know

That You will keep me even so.

I'm all of Yours,

And I will wait.