How Terrible To Be Poor

A poem that reflects the thoughts of an unbeliever who is sees others who are poor. They can't imagine have little to live on. Yet being poor brings a strong reliance on God and His provisions. And in the end you are richer than the richest person. You have to feel sorry for the rich, for those who don't believe. We know our time on earth goes by in a flash, but eternal life is forever where nothing decays. As stated in James 1:10, "But the rich should take pride in their humiliation—since they will pass away like a wild flower."

I would far rather have riches in heaven than riches here on earth. To quote from the Bible, Matthew 6:19-20 (NIV), "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal."

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How Terrible To Be Poor
Greta Zwaan, © 2019


How devastating to be poor, not having wealth on earth,
No cause to brag of all you own, to be of little worth.
No mansion to adorn with lights, no gardens to display,
No servants who would call you "Sir" and do what e're you say.

No limousine to drive in style with chauffeur at the wheel,
No smart, impressive clothes to wear, no luxury appeal.
No bank accounts with great assets, no office to address,
No friends to envy all you own and no one to impress.

You are so poor you only have what God gives you each day;
Faith to draw you close to Him when e're you kneel to pray.
A promise that His strength is yours, a knowledge that He's there,
A hand of love to hold you up where you are free of care.

You own no lands, you have no claims but you are royalty,
You are a child of God the King, eternal Majesty!
He recognizes what you're worth – a jewel for heaven's crown,
You are a witness to His love, your feet on holy ground.

Your popularity on earth does not exist for you,
But God's own angels guide your path when day begins anew.
Your needs supplied, your goal is set, and you are heaven bound,
Your earthly ties do not entice for heavenly wealth you've found.

All earth's values will decay so no one can lay claim,
But poverty exists no more when you have Jesus’ name!

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More poems to consider and reflect upon:

The Will Divine
Poet: James Mudge


Thy will, O God, is joy to me,
A gladsome thing;
For in it naught but love I see,
Whate'er it bring.

No bed of pain, no rack of woe -
Thy will is good;
A glory wheresoe'er I go,
My daily food.

Within the circle of thy will
All things abide;
So I, exulting, find no ill
Where thou dost guide.

In that resplendent will of thine
I calmly rest;
Triumphantly I make it mine,
And count it best.

To doubt and gloom and care and fear
I yield no jot;
Thy choice I choose, with soul sincere,
Thrice happy lot!

In all the small events that fall
From day to day
I mark thy hand, I hear thy call,
And swift obey.

I walk by faith, not sense or sight;
Calm faith in thee;
My peace endures, my way is bright,
My heart is free.

Unfaltering trust, complete content,
The days ensphere,
Each meal becomes a sacrament,
And heaven is here.



Thou Sweet, Beloved Will Of God

Poet: Unknown


Thou sweet, beloved will of God,
My anchor ground, my fortress hill,
My spirit's silent, fair abode,
In thee I hide me and am still.

O Will, that willest good alone,
Lead thou the way, thou guidest best;
A little child, I follow on,
And, trusting, lean upon thy breast.

Thy beautiful sweet will, my God,
Holds fast in its sublime embrace
My captive will, a gladsome bird,
Prisoned in such a realm of grace.

Within this place of certain good
Love evermore expands her wings,
Or, nestling in thy perfect choice,
Abides content with what it brings.

Oh lightest burden, sweetest yoke!
It lifts, it bears my happy soul,
It giveth wings to this poor heart;
My freedom is thy grand control.

Upon God's will I lay me down,
As child upon its mother's breast;
No silken couch, nor softest bed,
Could ever give me such deep rest.

Thy wonderful grand will, my God,
With triumph now I make it mine;
And faith shall cry a joyous Yes!
To every dear command of thine.




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