Throne on High

I marvel at the goodness of our Savior, and the power of His atoning sacrifice. His atonement is progressive and perpetual; It not only reaches back to right the wrongs that I have committed, but it heals me in this very moment and reaches forward to right my future course.

In essence, Christ's atonement makes hope in the future possible, and all possible joy springs from it. I can look forward with hope to that great day when we will kneel before His throne, because He makes it possible for me to look forward. Christ is the light by which I see and the joy which I hope to attain.

We Have a Throne on High

We have a throne on high, next to the angels above.

I dare my soul to fly, to that bought by Christ’s dear love.

To me He freely gave, that I may through grace obtain.

My soul He would save, though I would cause Him pain.

I marvel at His goodness, the way He lived his life.

All was done in kindness, so that we might feel His light.

Nowhere near to falter, while in blood He paid the price.

Now I kneel upon the alter, and take the name of Christ.

The way is clearly laid, to that throne on high.

The price of sin is paid, His day of glory nigh.

I pray for wings to take me, to the Father’s throne.

So I can take a knee, and praise a new found home.

                                                   Jack Shirley

Dearest Lord

God has a plan for each of us, and he doesn't make crappy plans.

I have realized that sometimes, when I sin, I am being impatient with the Lord and his timing. When I break his commandments, I am acting as if there is another way to get what I want or need. In reality, there is no other way. Regardless of what I may think, his way is the only way to get what I truly need. His plans and vision are far greater than mine. Accepting that and living by his commandments makes life the best it can possibly be; for that is what God wants for each of us, that life may be as beautiful and full as possible.

Dearest Lord

Dearest Lord,

The Father of my soul,

I am sorry

For what I have done

again.

It seems as if I draw nigh unto Thee

Only to fall from Thy grace;

Only to commit the same sin,

            Over and over.

Thou hast blessed me so much;

Made my life a dream better than my own;

Yet, I am unhappy

Not with Thee,

But with Thy timing.

I lack the faith to believe in Thy promises;

To really grasp the blessings

Afforded those who wait.

It seems faith and impatience

Are pinned against each other.

To wait is to believe.

To sin, is to doubt.

            To settle.

To rely on the carnal now

As if, Thou doest not exist,

And it all matters not.

How could I entertain such thoughts?

Let alone indulge in sin?

I know the truth:

Thou art my God.

Thou hast a plan for me.

Thou hast the power and the means

To accomplish Thy plans.

Thou art pure and holy.

Thou art ever nigh.

Thou knowest all.

And Thou offerest salvation.

            Hope.

            Mercy.

            Redemption.

            Healing.

How can I lose faith in Thee?

For Thou art my joy and my happiness.

My joy is not in far off promises

Or even in instant gratification,

It is in the fact that Thou lovest me

And gave Thy life for me

That I might have life

More real and abundant

Than I had ever known.

Thou art my happiness.

Thou art my goal.

Thou art my strength.

I will no longer be impatient,

For it mattereth not

If Thy promises come today or tomorrow

For I have Thee now.

Thou art the true blessing.

On Thee I rely.

No longer will indulge in this sin,

No longer will I deny Thy existence

To satisfy this lust.

I will believe.

I will be Thy child.

For Thou art the Father of my soul.

Thou art my dearest Lord.

                 Jack Shirley

The Prodigal

This is the poem I was going to share next in a poetry slam. It's a spiritual odyssey that seems to be stuck on repeat in my life.

A Slave and a Master: The Prodigal

I. Sorrowing of the Damned

I did not wish to be a slave,

Not to anyone.

I was a master of my fate

Until all was said and done.

Yet somehow in these chains I’m bound,

Welded through the chest.

A master pulls me where he will;

I do get no rest.

“I didn’t want these chains!” I cry,

Gasping short for breath.

A master spits and slaps my face,

“You did choose your death.”

Is there no balm in Gilead?

No salvation near?

Poison enters through my eyes;

No physician here.

Alone I tremble in despair,

The only thing that’s real.

I close my eyes and do not pray

Because I do not feel.

It’s silent now. I hear a laugh;

The devil at his prey.

He pulls the chain; I follow in vain.

It’s just another day.

II. Faint Hope

Canst thou hear this prayer, my Lord?

In sin I’m wrapped so tight.

The devil’s angels in one accord

Seek to end all light.

My masters two and Thou the one

Who seeks to save my life,

Yet to whom I’m bound, when done,

Will end it with a knife.

For Thy mercy I pray in haste,

Yet I am not Thy friend.

The words I speak are vainly laced,

Shallow to the end.

Look down kindly, I so implore,

On this wretched slave

Who did sell for Satan’s lure

What thou freely gave.

III. Redemption

Dearest friend, raise thy head.

Salvation is in sight!

I have come to free the dead,

To fill thy life with light!

Good tidings are at thy door;

Liberty I preach.

I will free thee and do more

Then thou now beseech.

For in me, though thou mourn,

Thou wilt be comforted,

Godly virtue thou wilt adorn,

And sin’s stain be rid.

I break the chains that hold thee tight,

The prison in which you’re bound;

And grant to thee a new life,

One with glory crowned.

Thou art no longer to be a slave,

But to be a son.

And to master thy own fate

Through the Holy One.

Out of love, I give my life

For thee, my dearest friend.

May thou know my love for thee

Never hath an end.

Jack Shirley

Poetry Slam: Why I Write

I wrote this for the poetry slam and wish I could recite it to you because it's meant to be spoken not read. It more or less goes through what I see in an average week as a social worker. It's also a cry to stop judging people because their lives aren't what we think they should be.

Why I Write

There’s a man who sits on a curbside bench just down the street wearing a beanie and a winter coat in the heat of summer and he doesn’t act like you expect and he doesn’t talk like me or you, but I still understand, and I write for him;

Because his awkward grin deserves a smile back and his disordered speech shouldn’t fall on deaf ears; because if he can be optimistic, why shouldn’t I?

In a house a little further down there’s a boy laying in front of a TV who slept through school today because his mom was too depressed to get him up because she has to raise him on her own and her life isn’t what it was supposed to be, and I write for him, and I write for her;

Because all they can do is try and they should try, and keep trying.

If you take a turn and walk a block or two there’s a theater with flashing neon lights playing nothing but the best Hollywood has to offer and in front you’ll see couples in droves crowding in to see the latest romantic comedy and inside on a row alone you’ll see a girl who took herself to the show because no one else would, and I write for her, but not only her, I write for the fake-baked beauties and the fohawked Romeos they came with, I write for the quiet couple who use pop and popcorn to replace the chemistry they once had, and I write for the young lovers on the back row who just plain don’t have clue; because they all stare at the same twisted romantic drivel and wish it was them; and they’re all lonely , whether they came alone or not;

Because they need to know that they’re reality is better than that screen and they shouldn’t need a director to tell them what living is.

And if you’ll walk with me a little further we’ll come to a house, you might not want to stop at, with a man inside about my age sitting in a dark room with the door locked staring at a flickering computer screen who wishes he could look away but he can’t, and I write for him;

Because if you knew the fight he’s in you wouldn’t blame him for slipping a time or two, and if you look in his pained eyes you’d see he’s just as pure as you or me, he just can’t see it yet because the unholy stigma, the deep shame society places on his shoulders is more than he can bare.

And I write for the wife who’s crying in that same house and doesn’t think she can take it anymore because this isn’t how her life was supposed to be, and I don’t blame her, but she tries and she should try, and keep trying.

I could take you further down the street, but in the end, I write for you;

Because you’re the one who will hear these words, and you’re the one who will understand, and you’re the one who will come to see that we’re all worth writing for.

Jack Shirley

The Healing Spring

I've thought a lot about prayer lately. I've decided to pray and not to act, is to not pray at all. As Elder Ballard recently stated, "We are responsible for the salvation of our own souls."

The Healing Spring

A body ravished by disease

Lay lifeless on the ground,

Sprawled beside the healing spring

That it never found.

A man that had but lift his hand

And dip within the spring,

Didn’t move or turn his head

Or even do a thing.

He cried and wallowed for relief,

But no one heard the sound.

So he lay without a prayer

On the unforgiving ground.

“Why not move and save yourself?”

A voice seemed to say.

“I have faith; I’ll be healed,

But not in such a way.

I need but pray.” He replied

From the spot of ground

Where now his lifeless body lay

By the spring he never found.

                       Jack Shirley

Affirmation

"I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."

Phillipians 4:13

Poem of Affirmation

There is hope and there is love;

There is a Savior up above,

And if you look, you will see

His arms of hope stretch out to thee.

Do not doubt, and do not fear

Christ, our Lord, is ever near,

And in his arms you will find

Peace for your worried, troubled mind.

So lift your head and look above,

And let him fill you with his love.

                        Jack Shirley

The Leaves of Spring

I love this time of year: rebirth and new growth. I wrote this poem a couple years ago while watching the tree outside my window put out new leaves. 

My Bedroom Window

The leaves are green,               serene,

           merely little buds of spring.

The birds’ content,              heaven sent,

           just letting their voices ring

                  through little buds of spring.

                                     Jack Shirley

Thy Words

"I glory in plainness; I glory in truth; I glory in my Jesus, for he hath redeemed my soul from hell."
-Nephi

Thy Words 

Simple, sweet,

Thy words complete

The yearnings of my heart;

So all the more

I implore

For Thee to impart

Thy loving grace,

Thy sweet embrace,

Thy words of eternal life

That move my soul

Till it is full

Of sweet and healing light.

Jack Shirley

Healing Water

The Savior's love is the greatest gift we will ever know.

Healing Water

Crystal water, cool and clear,

Full of Spirit, yet calm on a summer’s morning

Glistens in the noon day sun.

 

When beheld, eyes stare in awe,

Words lose meaning, and lips stand still,

Calm overcomes the troubled mind.

 

Sweet water, like a mountain stream.

With one sip, guilt and pain fade away

As peace fills the void.

 

Beautiful water, that when partook,

Tastes like life eternal.

 

How I yearn for its soothing taste,

Its sweet savor on my lips.

 

Peaceful water, cool and clear.

Beautiful water, like a mountain stream.

Sweet water, that when partook,

Heals the wounded heart.

 

Crystal water, flows from loving hands.

My Spirit calm, mind clear on a Sunday morning,

My countenance glistens in the Savior’s love.

     Jack Shirley

Pretty Girl

New song I wrote for a good friend. (Sorry the guitar sounds like crap, i'll record another one sometime.)

Pretty Girl

Pretty girl, with eyes that shine,

Why do tears fall on your skin so fine?

I know it’s hard when you’re on your own,

But you don’t have to do this alone.

Pretty girl, I see you smile wide

When your little boy lays by your side.

Life may not go exactly as you planned,

But I see hope when you are hand in hand.

Each day is but a stepping stone

Towards a place where your dreams are known.

God will gently light the path

With tender mercy and your child’s laugh.

It ain’t easy being on your own,

But God will make sure that you’re never alone.

Pretty girl, life may try your faith,

But God will bless you with love and strength.

Pretty girl, when your mind is set

You make it happen, on that I can bet.

I see your struggles and your dreams too,

And I can bet that they’ll all come true.

Pretty girl with a fight so strong,

Don’t you worry if it might take long.

You’ve got the strength and God has a plan;

Time will lead you to that perfect man.

And pretty girl, he will hold you tight,

And love till it’s all made right.

Time will dry the tears from your skin so fine

Pretty girl, how your eyes will shine.

                                     Jack Shirley