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by Steve Wessels
© 2-14-98

This poemís my Valentine,

about Godís gift sublime,

about my Lord,

Who is adored,

and proved His love divine.


Do focus on the cross,

and Jesus Christ, the Boss,

Who paved the way,

and sin did slay,

so please donít His love toss.


There comes in every life,

so many times of strife,

we need to know

Heís in control

of circumstances rife.


God gave us symbols sweet,

our sinful needs to meet,

the cross, so grand,

so ugly, stands,

to all who know its fete.


For all who with sin strive,

the cross is full of life,

to it we flee,

to be sin free,

if in His blood we dive.


I learned those years ago

to master sinís control

by kneeling there,

His blood to share,

it is, for me, pure gold.

No one can break my grip,

when to that cross I slip.

I hold onto

that cross until

His blood does on me drip.


And as my arms wrap Ďround

that cross on holy ground,

and rest my head,

against wood dead,

my heart to Him is bound.


I choose to hold onto

His cross, and am renewed.

I do wait there,

a time in prayer,

His blood becomes my dew.


Some wear a cross on chains

around their neck and brains,

but yet they swear,

and mock it bare,

their icon is not gain.


Donít from the cross recoil,

or flee from its dread toil.

His cross is light,

and His delight,

His sin-cure, heavenís oil.


Now in your daily grind,

in seasons of your mind,

recall the cross,

it canít be loss,

as all who know Him find.


We like John canít see

what He has planned to be,

we know not all,

 that will befall,

yet to that cross we flee.


As Jesus does foretell

of times He knows so well,

we need but read

The Living Seed,

His cross did conquer Hell.


As we with bread and wine

commune His love divine,

His sacrifice,

 look in His eyes,

and see His love so fine. 


As Jesus Christ did die,

so must you and I

to selfish will,

He waits there still,

to meet us eye to eye.


The cross is our open door

to life forever more,

so enter in,

be free from sin,

to meet Him at deathís shore.


So never do forget

this poem, or what itís meant.

You have to choose,

to win or lose,

His cross is your best bet!



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