Remember to Number

It’s strange that we often remember
so much that we ought to forget;
and forget what we should have remembered,
that’s one reason we worry and fret.

Remembering the hurts other give us
won’t make our lives happy and sweet.
In fact, it will be just the opposite,
and we’ll burden the folks that we meet.

Forgetting the kind deeds of others,
believe me, is fully as bad;
for this is how favors quit coming;
it’s selfishness, which is so sad.

Remembering each good we engage in
and wanting our neighbors to see;
forgetting how often we’ve failed them—
what blind hypocrites we can be!

There’s one thing I’ve recently noted—
it’s funerals—where truth we must face;
we may promise to make worthwhile changes,
yet how quickly these thoughts we erase.

Oh, teach us, dear Lord, then, to number
our days—yes, they really are few;
and open our hearts to Thy wisdom,
securing our “Well done” from You!

fpn/79

(Reposted from August 6, 2017. Alternate title: Remembering and Forgetting)



Picture: depositphotos.com #104026080, standard license

For the New Year

Emmanuel

God with us, O precious mystery!
Man of clay—Emmanuel;
thus portraying His true nature;
suffering more than tongue can tell.

God for us, the mighty sovereign!
Strength and shield when foes assail;
present help in time of trouble;
in His might, we cannot fail.

God in us—new life imparted
by His spirit—hope and joy;
love so pure and sweet communion,
peace divine without alloy.

God through us—the lost are waiting
in the darkness of sin’s night;
He can save and He can keep them;
let us point them to the Light!

fpn/1975
(repost from June 20, 2017)



Picture: depositphotos.com #22520023, standard license

The Apex of History

The shepherds in the fields by night,
the wise men far away,
the angel throng, the guiding star,
the Child on bed of hay—
these all combine and give to us
a story with intrigue,
which centuries cannot erase,
though fought by Satan’s league.

It seems so strange that wheels stand still
in factories everywhere;
and stores are quiet on this day
while clerks stay home to share
with loved ones, or go out with friends,
to “celebrate” they say,
a birth—two thousand years ago—
a Babe—born far away.

Of course, some folks don’t realize
just what it’s all about;
and some who know are not concerned;
their minds are filled with doubt.
But of all statesmen in the world,
or notables, not one
has caused a stir so great, so long,
as that Jewish maiden’s Son!

While on this earth, where Jesus went,
He chose a lowly place,
until the time had come to show
the world His power and grace.
And then at last, He yielded to
the passion of the crowd—
was crucified for sinful men;
He was the Son of God!

He did not die like other men, 
but shouted at the last,
in triumph, “It is finished!” 
as the soldiers stood aghast.
He rose again and lives today, 
in hearts that let Him in—
the mighty Victor over death;
the only Cure for sin!

fpn/undated



Picture: Wikimedia Commons

Emmanuel (Repost)

Who is this babe of Bethlehem?
Emmanuel, Emmanuel!
Who comes to save and not condemn?
Emmanuel, Emmanuel!
Who is this child of virgin birth?
The Son of God, now come to earth!
The Christ of God, our Lord and King!
Emmanuel, Emmanuel!

Who gave His life on Calvary?
Emmanuel, Emmanuel!
Who shed His blood to set us free?
Emmanuel, Emmanuel!
Who rose triumphant o’er the grave?
Whose name alone has power to save?
The Christ of God, our Lord and King!
Emmanuel, Emmanuel!

Whose feet shall stand on Olivet?
Emmanuel, Emmanuel!
Then war and strife we shall forget.
Emmanuel, Emmanuel!
Lord, haste the day of Thy return,
when all shall worship, none shall spurn
The Christ of God, our Lord and King!
Emmanuel, Emmanuel!

fpn/undated

This was written as a song, but the music was not put into print.



Picture: Sourced online, October 10, 2017

Man's Plight -- Unbelief (Repost)

God graced this earthly setting
as light invades the night;
He came as Friend and Saviour
to reach us in our plight.

He did not throw a life-line
while calling from afar,
but being born a  human,
He came to where we are.

Due to His lowly entry
so many failed to see 
the glory in His bosom
with power to set us free.

But few there were that welcomed—
whose hearts were right with God;
wise men, then too, the shepherds,
who slept upon the sod.

And there were several others,
but not a massive throng,
to hail the King of Glory
with tumult and with song.

Our pride keeps us from trusting
a God who can dissolve
the great and massive problems
which we have failed to solve.

As then, preferring darkness,
our race at large disdains
the light of life in Jesus,
while sin and error reigns.

fpn 12/82



Picture: depositphotos.com #10219777, editorial license

All Praise to Thee (Repost)

All praise to Thee, eternal Lord,
clothed in a garb of flesh and blood.
Choosing a manger for Thy throne, 
while worlds and worlds are Thine alone.

A little child, Thou wast our guest,
yet in Thy love our hearts find rest.
Humble and lowly was Thy birth, 
that we might rise to heaven from earth.

All this Thy love for us hath done,
by this our love to Thee is won.
For this we tune our cheerful lays 
and shout our thanks in ceaseless praise.

fpn/1969
This was written as a song. For a copy of the music, contact Joyce


Artwork: "Adoration of the Shepherds" by Gerard van Honthorst, 1622, from Wikimedia Commons

Mysterious Love (Repost)

Love of God - revealed in Jesus,
to a world wrapped up in night;
Born a babe in Bethlehem's stable
bringing courage, hope and light.
Love so warm - where cold hearts languish
and it seems that no one cares;
Love so strong - where human weakness
numbs with fear and no one dares.

Love so pure, offsets wild passions -
dignity to life restores;
Love enduring, never failing;
even on foes its grace outpours!
Love beyond all comprehension
such was God's salvation plan;
Justice? No! but mercy matchless;
He would die for sinful man.

Love of God - He still is waiting
to restore the severed bond;
While man curses, He is pleading
for the rebel to respond.
No one barred - the most notorious
can be saved from sin and shame;
None so good to bypass Calvary;
all must come in Jesus' name.

Wonderful - eternal Father;
Mighty God, the Prince of Peace;
Counselor, with all the answers;
born to give the soul release.
For and with us - King Immanuel;
Conquering Captain, Christ the Lord.
Lamb of God and Lion of Judah -
Be exalted and adored!

fpn 12/81



Photo credit: depositphotos.com #10774121

Oh, Precious Mystery (Repost)

Oh, precious mystery, that my Creator,
who fills the universe—earth, sea and sky—
came to be born within a lowly stable,
on manger bed in swaddling clothes did lie.

Oh, precious mystery, what matchless glory
and boundless wealth Christ Jesus left behind;
though He was rich beyond all comprehension,
bore pain and poverty with lowly mind.

Oh, precious mystery, with life eternal,
He tasted death on earth for you and me;
though He was buried, yet He rose triumphant
and lives today to set sin's captives free.

Refrain:
Oh, precious mystery, the High and Holy
who fills the universe—earth, sea and sky—
The great "I AM," who spoke the worlds to being,
for me He came, to suffer and to die.

fpn/1963
This poem is set to music as song #13 in "Sing and Give Thanks"
Contact Joyce for a copy.



Artwork: "Adoration of the Child" by Gerard van Honthorst, 1620, from Wikimedia Commons

Our Matchless Lord (Repost)

Royalty, born in a stable
with no regal robes to wear.
Wrapped in bands, oft used as grave clothes.
He would die, our sins to bear.

Paradox beyond explaining
that the highest of the high
chose to live in flesh among us,
learning what it is to cry.

Strategy of God, victorious,
subtle enemies to foil;
ruthless tyrants thus evading,
identified with men of toil.

Sinless spirit - human body -
with no taint of sin or guile,
demonstrating that one human
did live justly all the while.

Prophecies of old fulfilling,
so precisely - not a few
giving details of his coming -
life, death, resurrection, too.

Mystery - that his great power
so transforms a sinful soul,
changing lives from loss to profit,
untamed drives to self-control.

Destiny? There's no more guessing.
Heaven and earth shall both be new.
Christ came down to live among us.
We shall rise when life is through.

fpn 12/82




Photo by Ryan Graybill on Unsplash

The Prince of Peace (Repost)

In Bethlehem, one holy day
slept God’s own Son on bed of hay.
The virgin-born, sin’s debt would pay;
the Christ, the Prince of Peace.

The wise men saw His eastern star
and brought rich gifts form lands afar
to where the babe and mother were;
to Christ, the Prince of Peace.

Why is our world by war so torn
and why are hearts so sad, forlorn?
It is because they treat with scorn
the Christ, the Prince of Peace.

Wise men today, on land and sea
revere His name and bend their knee
acknowledging the deity
of Christ the Prince of Peace.

Chorus:
Thou Holy One, Thou Prince of Peace,
Thou King of Kings, make wars to cease;
may men acknowledge Thee as Lord
and Christ, the Prince of Peace.

fpn/undated
If you wish a copy of the printed music, contact Joyce


Picture: depositphotos.com #18080945, standard license

The First and Second Coming (Repost)

Originally posted on this blog July 22, 2017

’Twas not unto the masses
that “glory shone around,”
but to the lowly shepherds
all seated on the ground.
Their longing hearts enraptured,
so many years forlorn;
their trusting faith rewarded,
Jesus Christ is born!

Word of His first appearing
by faithful prophets shared,
fulfilled, yet found the masses
completely unprepared.
Though many knew the scriptures
pertaining to His birth,
yet few believed the message:
Christ had come to earth.

The dawning of the morning
when Christ shall reappear
is surely now upon us,
yet who shall see and hear?
Oh, may His second coming,
much heralded today,
find us awake and waiting;
let us watch and pray!

fpn/1972

Published as Poem #13 in Contemporary Psalms ©1975 by Radiant Light Enterprises
This poem has been set to music (Rutherford, by Chréten Urhan; arr. by Edward F. Rimbault).
For a copy of the printed music, contact Joyce.



Picture: Govert Flinck [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Rejoice! (repost)

“And the angel said unto them, ‘Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” Luke 2:10,11

Fear not! – (don’t worry!)
I bring you good tidings of great joy!
Fear not! – (don’t worry!)
A Savior is born—not just an ordinary boy!
This is the birth of the unique God-man.
He is at the heart of God’s redemption plan!
He affords hope now, as much as He did then.
Fear not! – (don’t worry!)

And when these things (end time calamaties) begin to come to pass, then look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth night.” Luke 21:28

Look up! – and rejoice!
Your redemption is now drawing near;
Look up! – and rejoice!
Very shortly, this world will see and hear.
The trumpet will sound in that hour;
Christ will return in great glory and power;
A new world will start to blossom as a flower!
Look up! – and rejoice!

fpn/91



Art: The Shepherds and the Angel, Carl Bloch [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Celebrate Christmas? (Repost)

Though Christmas is abused,
I do not advocate
that we, by some accused,
do wrong to celebrate.

What is it all about—
green trees—gifts stacked or piled?
It’s not a time to pout—
glad birthday of a Child!

The underlying cause
is there—and we can choose
to worship as we pause,
and serve God as we muse.

There’s nothing, far and wide,
which God ordained for man,
that Satan hasn’t tried
to desecrate or ban.

The traffic jams will show
it’s more than just a fad;
more folks are on the go—
the good, and yes, the bad!

No other time of year
marks such a spending spree,
and wishes of good cheer,
of sharing and of glee.

Yet loneliness abounds,
for some will feel left out.
And, with or without grounds,
of friends will stand in doubt.

And some will whoop it up;
at wild parties play;
with drinks out of the cup,
try floating cares away.

The aftermath, of course,
for decent folks or vile,
will force some, sick and hoarse,
to recuperate a while.

A time for song and verse,
God’s love for everyone;
Christ came to break sin’s curse;
let’s honor Him—God’s Son!

All those who know the Lord,
from sin now find release;
for them, God’s gifts outpoured,
bring life and hope and peace.

fpn/undated

The Wise Men (repost)

Who were these wise men who came from the East
at the sign of a star in the sky?
Long was their journey, but how was it made?
And just why, at a cost surely high?

Were there but three who came all the way
through a desert so wide and so wild?
Kings could they be, or great prophets per chance,
or scholars in search of a child?

Why did not others who lived nearer by
see the star? If they did, then just why
did no one seem aware of a happening so rare
in the probable months that went by?

Silent on questions like these is God’s Word;
but the God of high counsel and thought
called and persuaded and led them that way,
that a wonder (one more) should be wrought!

Opening treasures, they knelt at His feet
and worshipped God’s favor to win;
low my heart bows, but rejoices again,
when I think that they brought him their sin!

Back to their land—was there nothing they took?
Ah yes, pardon from sin their reward!
Hearts that were light, hope glorious and bright,
what a gift they received from the Lord!

Where are the wise men who follow today,
while the light of his grace clearly shines?
Come to the Savior and leave Him your sin;
oh, be loosed from satanic confines!

Naught can we bring, be the gift e’er so rare,
till we own Him as Savior and Lord;
as a star in the night, His truth shines today;
be wise, and believe in His Word!

fpn/undated



Art: Henry Siddons Mowbray [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

He Came for All (Repost)

Some seem convinced that Christ is just
for women and the kids
and so they don’t expose themselves
to the good that Jesus bids.

“Peace on earth—good will to men,”
that takes in everyone;
but now as then some miss the joy
of knowing Christ the Son.

The merriment at Christmas is
so hollow at the core.
For some it spells much tragedy—
to rich as well as poor.

Could they but know the peace of mind
and comfort to the soul
available to those who trust,
and let Him have control.

Oh, “taste and see—the Lord is good;”
just face reality!
He offers resurrection life,
from chains of sin be free.

So many then received Him not
and nothing much has changed,
but those who do—oh, what a thrill!
Their lives are rearranged.

A babe, two thousand years ago;
today, the King of Kings.
In His domain, there’s peace and joy
not found in earthly things.

fpn/December 1984

(Alternate Title: The Supreme Good)

Overcome at Christmas (Repost)

Loaded with packages on a cold afternoon,
fingering money gone all too soon!
Fighting the traffic, finally get home
simply exhausted, “plumb overcome!”

Hurrying the supper, stacking so high
dishes, which later we’ll wash—maybe dry.
Prodding the children, force them to bed,
packaging gifts, numb hands, weary head!

Finally to bed at a quarter past twelve;
can’t do the dishes, they’ll wait on the shelf.
Oh, what excitement, just why do we give?
“Christmas,” they’re saying. I’ll know, if I live!

Weary and nervous, unable to sleep.
Trying to drop off and counting the sheep.
Suddenly shepherds appear in my mind:
angels, a stable, a mother so kind.

A Son has been given, a babe has been born.
Jesus, they named Him; to save the forlorn.
God’s gift so precious, for souls in sin’s night;
Birthday? Yes, His—why, of course, that is right!

Was all of it needful, to rush around so?
I ponder the question; my answer is, “No!”
Forget about Christmas, if, as many do,
the One to be honored, I leave Him out too!

Lord, give me wisdom to put first things first;
oh, Gift of true substance; oh, Quencher of thirst!
Oh, Love so transcending, my heart be Thy home;
I drop off to slumber, in peace, “overcome!”

fpn/undated



Picture: depositphotos.com #44255237, standard license

Wings of Prayer

Lift me up above the clouds
where Thy sunlight I can see.
Let me rise above my doubts,
for a clearer view of Thee.

Lift me up above the clouds,
though it cannot be for long;
for I know on earth below,
others truly need my song.

Lift me up above the clouds,
I'm so weary of earth's gloom;
I feel cramped and oft distressed,
let me be where there is room.

Lift me up above the clouds,
let me view the heavenly dome
of Your universe so vast--
somewhere out there is my home.

Lift me up above the clouds

for a breath of heavenly air

far above earth's dust and fog,

take me up on wings of prayer.

fpn/1986

Photo by Samuel Zeller on Unsplash

The Genuine and Original (Repost)

Editor's Note: December 6 marks the Feast of Saint Nicholas of Myra (270-343 CE), the source of many legends around the Christmas season. Stories around his life and ministry have endured serious revision over the centuries. Steve Bell (another poet/singer/songwriter) writes about this in Pilgrim Year: Advent: "From his beginnings as the beloved Bishop of Myra and champion of the poor in the early fourth century, to the Coca-Cola endorsing, ruddy-faced red elf of the 21st century, Nicholas' fame has been appropriated to inspire sincere empathy in some and excessive consumption in others." 

While little information is known about the historic saint, legends suggest he was renowned for secret gift-giving and had deep compassion for children. His generosity was driven by his love for God and it birthed a passionate desire to share with others out of the material blessings he had received. To learn more, click here.

As today's poem by Frank Nickel suggests, the current picture of "St. Nick" or "Santa" is a very far cry from the original man who loved and served God. He, more than any, would be aghast that his distorted image has displaced that of Jesus as "the generous giver of good gifts" in many Christmas celebrations. This year, may you remember to keep your eyes on Jesus, the Reason for the Season!

The Genuine and Original

Where ever there is counterfeit
the genuine can be found;
and where the imitations are, 
the original has been ’round.

Where something excellent exists,
you’ll find the copy-cat;
who sells for cheaper price and claims,
“It’s just as good as that!”

Oh, yes, there’ll be a lot who try
to get into the act,
and peddle junk as though ’twere gold
and fiction, as ’twere fact.

Just who invented Santa Claus?
And whom would they crowd out,
while telling youthful, trusting hearts 
that he’s not one to doubt.

An imitation may at times
not really be so bad,
but worthless counterfeit for truth,
that, friend, indeed is sad!

When celebrating Christmas,
with gifts and much ado,
consider implications
of the counterfeit and true!

fpn/undated

Artwork: Tamás Kolozsvári, Wheat Miracle of St. Nicholas of Myra, 1427. Tempera on wood, Christian Museum, Esztergom, Hungary.

From the Archives

A significant time in Frank Nickel's life came when he realized the family singing ministry was no longer going to be a sustainable venture. The last child was in university, they were empty nesters. A small church in Springfield was in need of a pastor. After much prayer and consultation, Frank made the decision to take on the pastoral role at Southern Heights Bible Church and he ministered there faithfully until his death in 2002. 

This career transition meant they were no longer able to attend their home church where they had fellowshipped for many years. Frank had served on the board, their fifth son, John, had been employed as youth pastor a few years prior, all the children had grown up there, played in the band, sung in the choir, and attended youth group. Many deep friendships had been forged. 

As part of the farewell to this church family, Frank wrote a poem, "An Ode to Friends." Pictured above is a copy of the "farewell" letter he sent to the church, dated February 25, 1977. 

Here's an interesting tidbit of trivia: note the telephone number on the letterhead. In 1977, the telephone company still used alphabet letters in telephone number prefixes. The Nickel's number was UN2 4995. The "UN" stood for the "University" telephone exchange, and was eventually changed to 86 when technology transitioned to using only numerical digits.

In his farewell letter to the church, Frank included the poem and this short closing paragraph: 

We are deeply grateful for the sweet fellowship and the many kindnesses which we have enjoyed in the Grace Bible Church over the past years. ~Frank and Eva Nickel 

Today, please enjoy Frank's 40+ year old poem which is both a tribute and a "Thank you!" to the folks they had come to love in the Lord. The poem is readily applicable to many of our friendships and is an exhortation to serve the Lord faithfully with eternity's values in mind. 

An Ode to Friends
(Whom we love in the Lord)

There come some times in life when we
are forced to make a choice;
And though it hurts and spells much loss
our feelings cannot voice.

It may well seem that we've betrayed
our friends and gone insane.
Yes, this is why it's doubly hard;
we hate to cause them pain.

But there is One who sanctifies
for us both gain and loss,
if we but follow where He leads
and gladly bear our cross.

Let's praise the Lord for what we've gained
through fellowship we've shared,
and plan ahead when we'll resume
in mansions now prepared.

God works in a mysterious way;
His benefits are sweet.
Let's do our best so we may place
some trophies at His feet!

This life is but a transient scene,
like vapor fades away.
Let's make investments we can claim
on that eternal day.

fpn 2/77
Originally published on this blog: January 25, 2014



Photo: personal collection

Mountain Peaks and Foothills

We may speak of hills and valleys
in the routine of this life.
Some hills may seem more like mountains
as to glory and/or strife.
And one valley may be fertile
where we reap some joys sublime,
while another deep and dismal
as a canyon carved by time.

Mountains loom out in the distance--
highest peaks first meet our gaze;
yet the foothills are much nearer,
hardly noticed in the haze.
But in progress, as we scale them,
we invariably lose sight
of the higher mounts envisioned,
hidden by the foothills' height.

Soon we learn that climbing foothills 
calls for more than feeble strength;
and our patience, all too often,
is quite strained by journey's length.
But it still is gratifying
that the dream has been fulfilled
and we thrill in retrospection
when the mountain we have scaled.

Marriage is much like a foothill
where we climb by prayer and plan;
worthy venture--quite mysterious,
so ordained by God's own hand.
But a summit in the distance
beckons on to lofty goals,
spanning yet a few more valleys,
challenging the best of souls.

We may travel toward the summit
in companionship sublime;
but the journey's far from over,
there may be great tests, in time.
And the Captain of Salvation
bids us all His power employ,
there to hear His "Well done!" spoken,
and review our trek with joy.

fpn/Sept 1979



Photo by Aaron Benson on Unsplash