How is It?

How is It?

How is it that thunder rolls, and man fears it’s mighty roar? 

Yet, the one that causes that thunder man seems to ignore. 

How is it that hurricanes can make us tremble and run from our homes; 

Yet our fear of the creator is virtually unknown; 

How is it that man can declare there is no God, 

Yet at his works he continually will applaud. 

He has no logical answer for who created this blessing called earth. 

But he stands in awe of the beauty in all of its worth. 

He enacts celebrations, earth day, to preserve what He knows.

But He is unable to see the creator, despite the display that He shows. 

We construct shrines and worship mother earth. 

While denying its creator and His worth. 

How is it that we are blind to God's master plan? 

And cant see a baby in the womb as life not a mistake of man. 

How is it that we glorify sin in all its forms 

And are unable to hear the precious heartbeat of the unborn. 

I have no answers, as I contemplate our current state. 

But I know who my redeemer is and who determines my fate. 

The God of heaven and of earth.

Calls every shot for us each since our day of birth. 

He holds back the thunder and the rain. 

And brings the snow in their time and does not refrain.

He allows man to exercise His freedom to choose what is right. 

Because you see He won't force us to come into the light.

How is it that thunder rolls and we can't see God's hand?

I daresay we do, whether or not we understand.  

And in time, the eyes of all the world will be able to see.

That God is sovereign in the earth and reigns eternally. 

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

Faith that Can Move Mountains

Faith That Can Move Mountains

Jesus told us we could move mountains by faith. 

We just have to believe what God's word does say. 

He didn't tell us to believe in what's already here; 

But to believe we have received from HIm without fear. 

But too many times I've felt alone and afraid; 

Too many times I've let fear get in my way. 

So the mountain in my life has remained. 

Sunshine has been hidden by all of the rain. 

Yet God has been waiting for an honest prayer; 

One full of faith and void of despair. 

One that believes and has cast away all doubt. 

One that knows God's promises inside and out. 

And oh the burden is lifted once again.

The simplicity of leaning by faith in Him.

Having faith in Him and trusting His word. 

Letting Him remove the mountain from my life with just one word. 

Yes, I've asked God to come help me today. 

Help me live with a mountain, He's waiting to take away.

Forgetting He's able to cast that mountain into the sea; 

My faith in His word simply holds the key. 

So help me father trust you starting today. 

Renew my faith when I kneel down to pray. 

So that I may be strong in you. 

Knowing in every situation, you'll see me though. 

Jesus told me a mountain was clouding my view; 

From seeing His promises steadfast and true. 

So now I know my God will take the mountain away; 

And lead us more in His will with each passing day. 

©1997 Sandra C. Johnson

Have faith in God,” Jesus answered. “Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. 

Mark 11:22-24

God's Mosaic

There are moments when God lets us glimpse the bigger picture—how our individual stories, struggles, and gifts fit into something far greater than we can see. This poem, God’s Mosaic, came from reflecting on that truth: that each of us is a unique piece in His unfolding masterpiece. Though our paths differ, they all lead back to Him, and together we reveal the beauty of His plan. I pray these words encourage you to see your place in God’s mosaic and to trust the work He is doing in and through your life.

God’s Mosaic

God’s mosaic began ages ago,  

When He breathed life into man.  

And through His only Son who died for us,  

A new and holy age began.  

Little by little through the years,  

He has revealed His perfect plan—  

Speaking in different times and ways,  

Still guiding the heart of man.  

Hearing His voice brings understanding,  

A vision that leads us out of the dark.  

To some He gives a picture unique,  

A path designed for each heart.  

At the end of the road our journeys meet,  

As His voice draws our spirits near.  

Our wills and hearts align with His,  

And His truth becomes our song to share.  

We carry His law upon our hearts,  

Testifying freely of His sovereignty.  

We are members of the body of Christ,  

As His unfolding mosaic comes to be.  

Different colors, different stories,  

Different places where we stand—  

Yet we come together at the end of the age,  

Declaring the fullness of God’s plan.  

We each hold gifts that honor His glory,  

Designed with purpose from the start.  

Though we may not always agree,  

We look to the Father who frees every heart.  

His mosaic is a masterpiece—  

A beauty the world has never seen.  

A picture of the body of Christ,  

A gathering of the redeemed.  

From the beginning of time it has unfolded,  

A story of restoration divine—  

God’s mosaic, piece by piece,  

Revealing His love for all mankind.  

© 2024 Sandra C. Johnson

Into the Fire

A reflection on God’s refining love

There are seasons when life feels like jumping from the frying pan into the fire. We pray for God’s deliverance, yet the heat seems to rise instead of fade. But often, that very fire is where God does His deepest work — not to harm us, but to refine us.

From the Frying Pan Into the Fire

From the frying pan into the fire —  

that’s where we go when God tests desire.  

We pray for His deliverance today,  

then wonder why our hearts still ache this way.

It’s because He’s burning off the chaff,  

our worldly nature we still grasp.  

We cling to our own thoughts and plans,  

believing strength is in our hands.

It’s a hard lesson when we ask God to deliver,  

to lift us out of the heat we’re in.  

Yet when we pray, into the fire we go —  

a necessary part of His refining.

From the frying pan into the fire,  

He cleanses us of human desire.  

Though painful as the dross is stripped away,  

the heart is shaped into a child of His grace.

So when you ask God to deliver you today,  

hold tight — He works in His perfect way.  

You may walk through the burning flame,  

but He is with you, giving strength to sustain.

©2025 Sandra C. Johnson

When People Hurt Us

 When People Hurt Us

When people hurt us as they often do

We have a choice of how it affects our life’s view.

We can hold on and dwell on how bad we feel.

Or we can let go as if it’s no big deal.

But with hurt comes our emotional reaction.

To let go, sometimes gives us no satisfaction.

So we hang on either for a time or longer.

Thinking that it will somehow make us stronger.

But it hurts us inside when we fail to let go.

Over time, bitterness is all we can show.

We soon become a victim and like it that way.

Our relationships change with each passing day.

When people treat us unfairly, as they sometimes will.

We have a choice of how to react, despite how we feel.  

We can feel sorry for ourselves, and once again

Live in a dark place, with a bitter end.

But when we choose to let go, and give it Him.

He takes it far away where we won’t find it again.

And He fills us with His love that replaces the pain.

Our God’s healing will never leave us the same.

It’s okay to grieve when your heart is wounded within.

Stay for a time then leave it at His feet once again.

That’s when we grow, that’s when the best is yet to come.

When no burdens are bearing down on us, the past is done.

So when people betray you and the hurt runs so deep.

Go cry out to God, lay it all at His feet.

But then allow Him to carry it all far away.

He wants you to be free to love after today.

©2008 Sandra C. Johnson

The Least of These

 The Least of These

Sometimes it's those little things we do.

To the least of those with a love that's true. 

We take a moment to send a text. 

To someone who was lonely thinking they had nothing left. 

We whisper a prayer for those we see. 

We simply say hello with quiet generosity.

It was said by Jesus when He  walked the earth

“If you did it to the least of these, you understood your worth.”

“You did it to me, your answered your call.”

It wasn't anything grand that made you stand tall. 

But it mattered to the lives that you touched. 

It's the least of these that matter so much. 

To the least of these we open our hearts.

We shine light into the lives that sit in the dark. 

We talked a woman out of a fatal decision. 

On her way to Planned Parenthood on a grim mission. 

To the least of these when we stopped on the road. 

Helping someone with a heavy load.

Not knowing a criminal would drive by later. 

With different intentions changing her fate forever. 

To the least of these- a daughter gone astray

Had her destiny changed by someone who prayed. 

Simply because they passed her that day, 

Her future shifted in a quiet, holy way. 

To the least of these we're given a chance. 

Each way we live, if we'll listen in advance

That's how He moves, How He draws us in. 

To the least of these He changes the hearts of men. 

©2025 Sandra C. Johnson

 “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.  For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in,  I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

Matthew 25:34-40

The Mustard Seed

He replied, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”  Matthew 17:20

The Mustard Seed

The mustard seed, the smallest seed of all,  

Yet look at what it does though it seems so small.  

It rises up—growing sturdy and strong,  

Its quiet resilience lasting long.  

We are all mustard seeds waiting to be sprouted,  

As God reminds us our faith need not be doubted.  

And as we trust and rest in Him,  

He does His deepest work within.  

So don’t fret today if you feel small;  

God has a plan as we answer His call.  

In time we’ll grow in ways we never imagined,  

By His strength moving in ways we never fathomed.  

The roots go deep and the branches high,  

Their reach extending through all of our lives.  

So when God calls you and you wonder why,  

And nothing changes as the days go by—  

Wait on Him, for He’s the Master Gardener.  

He tends the soil and is the gracious Pardoner.  

He makes the seed grow—He knew you from the start,  

And He alone writes His law on your heart.  

So fret not; in His time and His way,  

The mustard seed grows with each passing day.  

Place your plans gently into His care,  

Trust His process and continue in prayer.  

He forgives when we wander off on our own,  

Thinking He’s forgotten while we flounder in the unknown.  

Yet still He waters the seed,  

Patiently tending us in our unbelief.  

For the seed was planted long ago—  

God’s work ordained, His promise sure to grow.

©2025 Sandra C. Johnson

He told them another parable: “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches.”

Matthew 13:31-32

Precious is Each Prayer

Precious is Each Prayer

Precious is each prayer that we lift to God on high.  

Though we don’t always know what to say, His Spirit hears our cry.  

So many times I carry feelings deep within my heart,  

And when I’m alone with God, I find them hard to impart.  

But my Father knows my thoughts before the words come out,  

And my whole life—He knows what it’s all about.  

He knows what makes me laugh and what will make me cry;  

He’s ever faithful to the prayers of both you and I.  

So precious is the little girl who prays,  

Asking God to help her know just what to say.  

When we simply try to start a prayer,  

God hears—and He is always there.  

So precious is the prayer of each woman and man  

Who searches for truth, seeking to understand.  

Not sure of it all, but laying it at God’s feet,  

And God gives the answers that they seek.  

Precious is each prayer, no matter how short or long—  

No matter how eloquent your speech, or if you’re weak or strong.  

For our God in heaven hears each and every cry;  

Each prayer is precious, whispered by you and I.  

So as I seek the Lord’s face once again,  

And my words get jumbled by all my thoughts within,  

I’ll remember that God still hears and He is there,  

And I will continue to be faithful in prayer.

©1996 Sandra C. Johnson

God's Unseen Hand

God's Unseen Hand

We can’t see everything God does, for it’s already done.  

These are the trials we were spared—those already won.  

We can’t see the dangers that could have come upon us;  

God’s protecting shield has guarded and covered us.

As we look to God and pray to Him today,  

We see Him working in His perfect way.  

Angels guard us and watch over our path;  

They protect and spare us from all wrath.

In our times of sorrow and pain,  

As we continue to call the Lord’s name,  

Though we cry out over all that we see,  

God still has been protecting you and me.

When Israel cried out in hunger and thirst,  

All they could see was a curse.  

God gave them strength to endure and sustain,  

But they grumbled instead of praising His name.

And as I do the things to help my children here,  

I cringe as they complain and shed many tears—  

Crying because there’s something else I forgot.  

They don’t see what they have, only what they have not.

Not always thankful for being pulled from the street,  

For helping them walk or stand on their feet.  

They want to play—they can’t see the things that I do;  

Toys and fun are all in their view.

God’s done so much in each of our lives;  

The things He doesn’t show us go unrecognized—  

The drunk driver that never crossed our path,  

The gunman in violent anger and wrath,

The sickness that could have stricken us all,  

The airplane crash or the broken automobile,  

Homelessness, no food on the table,  

Being handicapped or physically unable.

I’ll stop there, for I think now we can see  

How our Father protects you and me.  

We are provided for and blessed with health;  

Through Him, we hold such great wealth.

So let’s thank Him for His protection so strong,  

For being faithful when we do things wrong,  

For never leaving us or forsaking us here.  

O God, I praise You—it's You I revere.

©1996 Sandra C. Johnson

Little by Little

 Little by Little

Little by little, God’s work will be done.  

Little by little, we will all overcome.  

God’s timing is perfect in every way —  

It takes time when we walk in His way.

Little by little, another step is taken.  

It may take so long you’ll think you’re mistaken,  

But with God, a thousand years is only a day —  

So press on, my friends, and live solely by faith.

Little by little, the enemies of Israel were overcome.  

God said it would take time before the work was done,  

Lest the beasts of the land grow too many for them 

God’s timing is perfect, protecting all men.

Little by little, in our lives today,  

We draw closer to the Father as we learn to obey.  

At times it seems we’ve gotten nowhere at all,  

But that’s when we’re growing, though sometimes we fall.

God is always there to catch us again,  

Teaching our hearts to lean on Him.  

Overcoming takes patience and time 

But little by little, we find true peace of mind.

Little by little and day by day,  

We become more like Him and learn how to pray.  

One day we will understand why

Until then, we follow our Father on high.

©1996 Sandra C,Johnson

“I will send my terror ahead of you and throw into confusion every nation you encounter. I will make all your enemies turn their backs and run. I will send the hornet ahead of you to drive the Hivites, Canaanites and Hittites out of your way. But I will not drive them out in a single year, because the land would become desolate and the wild animals too numerous for you. Little by little I will drive them out before you, until you have increased enough to take possession of the land.

Exodus 23:27-30

A Thanksgiving Prayer

A Thanksgiving Prayer

Thank you God for being with me through the years. 

Thank you for showing me how to face my fears. 

When life felt heavy, you strengthened me

It is only in you that I am truly free. 

I remember the days when I felt empty inside. 

You met every need, your love never denied. 

You guarded my steps from temptations snare. 

My God, my anchor, my solace, my prayer. 

Oh merciful Father who reigns from on high

Thank you for your faithfulness when I failed you in days gone by. 

Thank you for your patience when I wandered astray. 

Thank you for hearing each whispered word  that I prayed.  

I look out at this vast nation and sometimes sigh. 

So many don't know you and I can't fanthom why. 

But such mysteries are not for men to figure out. 

Thank you for your presence  and removing my doubt. 

When I ponder your grace and the love you bestow.

That my plans and dreams are held in eternity's glow. 

I fall on my face so thankful to know

My God, who leads me in paths unfor own. 

Thank you for being my ever constant provider. 

Thank you for making my load so much lighter. 

Thank you for family and friends you've allowed me to know

For the comfort and companionship they gently bestow.

Oh God Thank you for keeping my path straight. 

For shaping my heart and guiding my fate. 

Thank you for all you have done and will continue to do

And as time passes may my life always reflect you.

©2025 Sandra C. Johnson

This poem was adapted into a song and can be viewed on my YouTube channel here:

https://youtu.be/Iam6eaCfjvg?si=WosSsqpsF96gbb-6

At Mount Sinai

There are many parallels today to Israel’s journey out of Egypt.

I can only imagine what they must have felt as they departed. Perhaps the closest comparison for us is the relief of finally leaving a job we dreaded, or moving away from a place we couldn’t wait to escape. Yet even in those moments, we don’t fully know where we’re going or how difficult the road ahead may be. Israel didn’t know either, as their travels would soon reveal. God delivered them from Pharaoh one final time at the Red Sea, performing a mighty miracle. They rejoiced, just as we do when God moves powerfully in our lives—whether through miracles, revival, or a retreat that rekindles our excitement for Him. But eventually, we return to everyday life and its pressures.

When the Israelites reached Mt. Sinai, Moses went up the mountain and remained there for forty days. The people lost hope, lost faith, and urged Aaron to make a golden calf. I imagine they were eager to reach the promised land. What was taking Moses so long? Were they stuck here? Their conversations must have gone on and on.

And what about us? We all have our own Mt. Sinai moments—times when we don’t hear from God, when prayers seem unanswered, when we ask for purpose and guidance and things seem to get worse instead of better. Hard circumstances can overwhelm us. It can feel like a giant foot is pressing us into the ground. Many of us have been there.

In those seasons, it’s easy to lose touch with God. We may turn to others for the love, acceptance, and spiritual support we crave. But if that person fails us or leaves, we crumble. I believe something like this may have driven Israel to pressure Aaron into making the golden calf. They wanted something they could see, something tangible to cling to. And when Moses finally came down the mountain, he found them in idolatry. We know the rest of the story.

All of us stop at Mt. Sinai at some point in our Christian walk. We all face times of testing. But Jesus is about to come down the hill as well. This present wilderness will not last forever. One day we will cross the Jordan. That is the struggle—and the hope—we share. The beautiful part is that we’re in this together, encouraging and praying for one another until that day.

These were the thoughts on my heart as I wrote the following poem.

At Mount Sinai

It was a place where holy knowledge reached a few,  

Who carried it to others, teaching what to do.  

A place of isolation, far from all the rest;  

Where hunger often met them, and faith was put to test.  

Mount Sinai held both blessing and deep sorrow,  

For they stood suspended between past and tomorrow.  

Leaving what had been to reach what lay ahead,  

Unaware the present trials would shape their hearts instead.  

No, we never seem to linger in that place—  

Where every path is closed except to seek God’s face.  

Look anywhere else and disaster’s sure to strike;  

It’s inevitable when we refuse to walk in Jesus’ light.  

And yet, Sinai can become a sacred place;  

God is ever-present to the ones who seek His face.  

He is the Provider—yes, the only One;  

In the desert, look around: luxuries, there are none.  

We mustn’t lose heart while Moses climbs the hill;  

Just wait on God and keep your spirit still.  

This is the hardest struggle we must overcome—  

To work with faith and patience until the task is done.  

It’s easy in the land of milk and honey to stand strong,  

And in times of revival when God’s goodness feels lifelong;  

But the test comes when you’re at the mountain all alone—  

Trusting in the Lord’s provision, not the comforts you have known.  

So when you’re trapped between the future and the past,  

Feeling purposeless, your fading zeal slipping fast;  

Remember: God provides—so lift your prayers once more,  

For in His time, He’ll guide you safely to Jordan’s shore.  

Then you will cross at last to the other side.  

It was at Sinai you surrendered fear and pride.  

And in that day, you’ll understand and you’ll rejoice 

Entering the promised land by heeding God’s voice.  

© 1996 Sandra C. Johnson 

This poem was adapted into a song and can be viewed on my YouTube channel here:

https://youtu.be/fgeYTpetuWA?si=TGHhk_m1CdKuVVJO

In the Palm of His hand

In the Palm of His Hand

He holds me in the palm His hand,  

That is how I learn to stand.  

I know Him, for He lifted me there,  

And now I speak with Him in prayer.  

He holds me firm, He will not let go—  

Not for the good works I may show.  

But because He is God, who chose to love,  

And keeps me near by grace from above.  

I choose to follow, to love Him today,  

Grateful He holds me each time I pray.  

By His pure mercy I’ve come to know  

The Lord of heaven, in whom I grow.  

He could release me, let me fall,  

If I declared I don't need Him at all.  

And yes, I’ve tried to run away,  

To walk alone, to seek my own way.  

In tears and sorrow, He let me roam,  

Lost and wandering, far from home.  

Yet love compelled Him to lift me again,  

From mire and dirt, forgiving my sin.  

He draws all people, longing they see  

In the palm of His hand, they're meant to be. 

Humbly yielding, carried through  

In every trial, in all that they do.  

It’s not our will, nor our design,  

But His great love for all mankind.  

All things unfold beneath His reign,  

He holds our lives, our joy, our pain.  

Yes, we are safe in the palm of His hand,  

By His grace alone we’re able to stand.  

So thankful I rest, upheld by His care—  

My God, my Creator, is present everywhere.

©1998 Sandra C. Johnson

This poem has been set to music, found here. 

https://youtu.be/DXKZmwWQ5Fg?si=A0XXG3XwfNYMR15x

The Quarry

 The Quarry

It’s at the quarry where God’s work begins—  

He prepares our hearts and changes us within.  

We feel the pain as each rough edge falls,  

He quarries our souls, leading us to the cross.

The quarry is where we all reside,  

Our spirits refined, our flesh denied. 

So one day we’ll be living stones,  

In His house, where we’ll be home.

Many arrive unprepared for the test,  

Hoping somehow they’ll be spared the unrest.  

And they flinch when the chisel draws near,  

Exposing their hearts and long-hidden fear.

Some stones are cast aside for a time,  

Worn by arrogance, pride, and grime.  

Restoration takes longer for these,  

But in His mercy, they too find peace.

At the quarry, His work begins in us all,  

Shaping us into living stones who answer His call.  

A day will come when His house is restored,  

And living stones worship Jesus, their Lord.

Not all choose the quarry’s way—  

Some reject salvation and go astray,  

Resting in the work of their own hands,  

Following the flawed precepts of man.

And we at the quarry look out and see  

Those who seem happy, thriving, and free.  

We question God and wonder inside:  

Should we, like them, just run and hide?

But it’s in the quarry that God’s plan unfolds,  

While outside, the self-made grow cold.  

They are the straw, the stubble, the dust—  

Destined to crumble, due to whom they trust. 

Yes, the quarry is painful for now,  

But one day, before His throne, we’ll bow.  

The glory we’ll share—beyond imagination—  

Standing in awe of His holy creation.

So even when you look out and see  

Those lost in sin and debauchery,  

Gaining the world, blessed beyond measure—  

Their souls are lost in worldly pleasure.

But you—His living stones, being formed—  

From heaven above, you were reborn.  

And in time, you’ll stand grand and tall,  

As His church shines bright before all.

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

This poem has been set to music found here:

https://youtu.be/VJ0rD7noMgQ?si=Wxjq98GP947z9A7I

The Sea of Hate

Each evening as I prepare dinner, the news plays in the background.  

Sometimes it’s a headline, sometimes just a passing phrase—  but something stirs within me.  

A switch flips, and I find myself contemplating:  

What might God think of our current political climate?  

The poem below is one such reflection—  born from those quiet moments of spiritual pondering.

The Sea of Hate

They are lost in a sea of Trump disdain.

To them, his every move is flawed and profane.

They call him a tyrant, a king in disguise. 

A racist, a hater–truth clouded by lies.

But lost in their own sea of spite and blame.

They point at others, yet play the same game.  

Never owning the wrongs they have done,  

Their hatred exposed in the light of the sun.

When they don't agree with the results of an election,

They riot and burn buildings as an act of rejection. 

Yet they call us MAGA extremist and unkind,  

Blind to the grace that we strive to find. 

But what do we do when we’re let down?  

Do we sulk and rage, wear anger’s crown?  

Or do we pray for those cast aside,  

And love the forgotten with arms open wide? 

Yes, we have values that we make clear. 

We stand for God– the right to life we hold dear. 

We defend the right to bear arms and protect,  

Because our neighbors come first and deserve respect. 

And if your lifestyle differs from our creed,  

We don’t attack or force you to heed.  

We don’t block roads or shout you down,  

We believe all should live free, and never be bound. 

Yet they say we lack compassion and grace,  

While we hold prayer vigils and truth we embrace.

We pray for an end of violence, vengeance, disdain.

For healing and forgiveness, not more pain. 

So for Rosie, Schumer, and AOC,  

I lift a prayer, not hostility.  

They are lost in a sea of hate.

But Jesus alone will alter their fate. 

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

 

I am Not Deaf

 I am not Deaf

I am not deaf, though some claim that I am.

I hear every prayer uttered by man.

Though at times it may feel as though I'm not there,

I am the God of Heaven and Earth– I am everywhere.

I am not deaf to the cries that I hear.

Nor deaf to the weight of man's fears.

I am not deaf to the pain that I see.

I hold it all in my hand in my sovereignty.

I sometimes say no when men seek my face.

I intervene with love, truth and grace. 

But my no's are all a part of my plan.

To intervene and help you to understand.

I have things to show you when I say no.

And trials designed to help you grow.

So when you cried and asked me to intervene,

My silence was never to be harsh or mean.

You cannot see the Heavenly Realm,

The battles where I stand at the helm.

I am aware that you've asked me before,

But my answers I gave, you simply ignored.

Ask me again– but know that I hear.

As I teach you to let go of your fear.

I could make it so easy, but what would you learn?

Sanctification often comes with a burn. 

And usually, my child, that's what it is. 

As my refining fire gently persists. 

Hold fast to me through every trial, 

I will steady your path and walk every mile. 

It's because I love you as I train you to be,

Someone who will minister before me.

As you come to learn of my ways,

And rest in my presence all of your days.

©2025 Sandra C. Johnson

This poem has been set to music found here:

https://youtu.be/SzDhpJVZLYQ?si=6wtoExKZUEB4E6fM

Reproductive Health or Reproductive Harm?

In recent years, the term reproductive health has been increasingly used as a euphemism for one thing: abortion.

It’s a curious choice of words. Reproduction implies the creation of life—bringing something into being. Abortion, by contrast, is a procedure that ends that process. It’s not reproductive; it’s anti-reproductive.

True reproductive health should refer to supporting a pregnant mother through childbirth, not terminating a pregnancy. Yet the language has been twisted to obscure the reality.

The roots of abortion in America are darker than many realize. Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood, held deeply racist views. Unlike today’s climate, where accusations of racism are often thrown around carelessly, Sanger’s agenda was deliberate: placing clinics in low-income, predominantly Black neighborhoods. Her legacy is documented in sources like this USA Today column (https://www.usatoday.com/story/opinion/2020/07/23/racism-eugenics-margaret-sanger-deserves-no-honors-column/5480192002/) which outlines her ties to eugenics and racial targeting.

Some fact-checkers now try to downplay this history, arguing that Planned Parenthood today is different. But history matters. The era in which Sanger operated was rife with racism, and there is ample evidence that her motivations were not purely about women’s health. Even today, whistleblowers like Abby Johnson—once a director at Planned Parenthood—have faced backlash for exposing what goes on behind closed doors.

Many people I speak with who support abortion believe it’s primarily used in cases where the mother’s life is at risk. They argue that the pro-life movement ignores these women. But the data tells a different story: fewer than 20% of abortions are performed due to serious health risks. The vast majority—over 80%—are not medically necessary.

Those who advocate for abortion often muddy the waters, using compassionate language to mask a procedure that ends a life. It’s a chilling reality, and one that deserves honest reflection.

Yesterday, I saw a post by Abby Johnson that struck a chord:  

“Healthcare heals. Abortion kills.”  

That simple truth inspired everything I’ve written here.

---

Reproductive Health

We call it reproductive healthcare. 

It is supposed to cure, not lay bare. 

Instead of being the place we go to heal 

It misinforms, destroys, and kills. 

We call it reproductive health but that is a lie. 

As the silent screams pierce the sky. 

A world veiled by abortion's curse. 

A name rebranded, an image reversed. 

The title covers the truth. 

So they can re-educate our youth.. 

So these precious young women won’t see.

A child deprived of it's destiny. 

They changed the name to mask the pain,  

To lure the crowd, to shift the blame.  

From “pro-choice” to a softer phrase,  

A cloak to blind, a term to praise. 

They call it reproductive health but the only thing that's true. 

Is they deny reproduction to a child in the womb 

And who knows how many generations have been affected. 

By a procedure that has left them unprotected. 

Abortion was the first term which made it all clear

Kill the future generation before they get here.

Place clinics in neighborhoods of low income and poverty. 

Remove the riff raff from our society. 

They call it healthcare– doesn't that sound grand?

A right for all women right where they stand. 

But healthcare heals, it doesn’t deceive;  

It doesn’t teach young moms to grieve.  

Healthcare should be where hope is found,  

Where cures and comfort do abound.  

Not a place where our bodies are mutilated. 

Genders changed or whatever is contemplated. 

They call it reproductive health but we know that is not true. 

Stop and ponder the life growing inside of you. 

That child, that gift, that sacred plan—  

A life ordained by God’s own hand. 

Children are a gift from God, made in His image. 

We don't get to choose life or death without limit. 

Each embryo worth saving, not for promise or perfection,  

But because it bears His image, cradled in eternal affection.

©2025 Sandra C. Johnson

Now the word of the Lord came to me, saying,

5 

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,

And before you were born I consecrated you;

I have appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”

Jeremiah 1:4-5

 

Fret Not

 Fret Not

Fret not if you do not understand. 

There is a greater calling beyond man. 

Your ministry is not of this age.

Have faith, as you turn the page. 

A day is coming for you and others. 

A day where you will minister with your brothers. 

That longing in your heart you have always felt.

Was put there by me where I have always dwelt.

I have a bigger plan for the entire earth.

And many will take part who now question their worth. 

I look not at the great inventions man has discovered. 

It was me who let them see what I alone have uncovered.

I am not impressed by monetary sacrifice. 

Or by those who are generous and nice. 

Because those are simply works of the flesh,

But without me they all still lead to death. 

Fret not because I have not unfolded my plan.

I will, in my own time, help all understand. 

But only I know the time and the hour 

When I will reveal myself with glory and with power. 

I give you small hints, at times, of what is to come.

Before I call you to rule and reign with my Son. 

That is when you will see the fruits of your labor

The lives touched when you followed me and I extended my favor. 

Fret not, because even though you feel that seed that you planted–

Fell on rocky places and many words recanted. 

Have faith because with your human eyes you cannot see–

My purpose in the earth and divine decree.

Fret not my child, all things are under my watchful eye. 

Though it makes no sense and you can't understand why. 

Those who have faith in me in the midst of all they see. 

Are the ones who will minister before me. 

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

 

 

He Is With Us

 He is With Us

He is with us in our darkest hour. 

When we feel we've lost all power.

When we have no strength to carry on–

He lifts us up and makes us strong. 

He is with us when no one understands. 

When we can't keep up with life's demands. 

He carries us through weary days. 

And revives our souls out of its tearful haze.

You see He feels what we feel.

His heart aches over our sadness so real. 

He gathers every tear, every emotion. 

And holds us in the midst of the storm and commotion. 

He understands us like no one could. 

He bears our burdens like no one else would. 

And sometimes when we look up we see Him there,

Even though we blamed Him in our despair.

He simply waits for us to breathe.

To let go and let Him meet our need.

And when we do, oh such a burden is lifted. 

Others think we are strong, resilient and gifted. 

But unknown to them we're not alone. 

HIS strength is what the world is shown. 

It doesn't mean we never fall apart.

Healing takes time as He mends our heart. 

He is with us today and forevermore. 

He speaks, He guides, and He won’t ignore

He hears every prayer, each silent plea

Our Father leads us out of the dark, setting us free. 

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

This poem has been set to music found here:

https://youtu.be/Ll2hz3u-2AE?si=6i-cEaz0s1x_9LKX

Opposing views

I find it amazing when I watch the news, how both parties make the same claims about the other side.  I know which side I am more alligned with.  The truth is though, Jesus Christ died for all of us.  His truth should be the foundation of what we believe in our heart and even in our politics.  

It's hard though, when both sides claim they are Christian. They declare to be defenders of our constitution. Yet at the same time, both sides have polarizing policies.  I woke up in the middle of the night as the first two lines reverberated in my head. 

Opposing views

Why is it, when we on the right take a stand,  

We're accused of hate, with deception close at hand?  

Yet when the left declares what they believe,  

They're hailed as heroes, destined to achieve.  

Why is it, when we questioned the COVID vaccine,  

We were cast as villains—cold, cruel, and mean?  

But when the left walks through Planned Parenthood’s door,  

It’s called a brave choice, praised all the more.  

When a conservative speaks of what made this nation great,  

He’s labeled a racist, a Nazi, a vessel of hate.  

Yet when a liberal shares his opposing view,  

He’s seen as kind, though none of it’s true.  

This is the world we’re living in today:  

Both sides shout, both sides sway.  

Each claims the other breaks the Constitution,  

Each offers a different, clashing solution.  

Two bibles, two laws, two paths to defend—  

Each side insists theirs is the end.  

But only one truth will rise and shine,  

Only one Word stands the test of time.  

So stand for what’s right, make your declaration,  

Live with boldness, not hesitation.  

For when all is said and all is done,  

The truth is found in God’s own Son.  

We live in a world of opposing views,  

And truth is often hard to choose.  

It’s not the one who seeks to please,  

But the one who clings to Christ with ease.  

Not the voice that avoids offense,  

But the heart that stands in reverence.  

For in the end, what will remain  

Is faith that endures through joy and pain.

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

We Will Not Be Baited

We Will Not Be Baited

We will not be baited thinking we are standing tall. 

We will remain faithful to our God only answering His call. 

We will not be tempted to argue over what we believe. 

And have our words twisted by those who are deceived.

We will not be baited to engage in arguments over words. 

We know the truth and believe in what we've heard.

We will not argue with those who refuse to see. 

But only seek to trap us by their words and creeds. 

We will not be baited by those on the other side. 

As they make false allegations that can be denied. 

As they try to demonize us for our faith and life we lead. 

We will walk away and continue to the Holy Spirit heed. 

We need no words. We will not reply. 

Jesus spoke not a word, just before he died. 

He will give us words to say when the time is right. 

Until then rest in your Savior and resist the fight. 

God will go before us and make the battle cry. 

He will sound the trumpet and we will be ready to reply. 

Just rest in Him my warriors, though you are ready to defend. 

Don't waste time arguing with those who will never be your friend. 

We will not be baited or engaged in your war on Words. 

We understand the battle is spiritual and we believe in what we've heard. 

So we wait on God and ask Him to show us when

To enter into battle because in His power we will win. 

No….we wont be baited no matter what you say. 

Our faith is firm, established as we bow our heads and pray. 

We pray for God's Kingdom to come to earth. 

And stand at the helm with His armor awaiting on His Word. 

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

I Forgive Him

I Forgive Him

She knew what she must do– God gently explained. 

Oh, she had no problem standing up and calling on His name.

But the next step was harder, as God gently held her close.

And said “I'm going to ask you to do what hurts you the most.”

In her tears she looked to him and said “Oh God why?”

How can I let this go– the hurt runs so deep inside.

How can you love someone who brings so much pain?”

He said “Because I love all men– and did not die in vain.”

“I forgive him,” she declared for all the world to hear. 

Standing in her grief, yet without fear. 

And as she spoke the audience was moved by love. 

This is what it's about, what we should be thinking of.

“I forgive them” Jesus said. while he was on the cross….

“They know not what they do,” he continued, paying the final cost. 

When Peter asked “How many times must I forgive?” 

Jesus answered with a number hard for most who live.

“I forgive him”--words easy to say, but hard to feel,

Especially toward one who without thought chose to kill. 

But Jesus loves all men–it's not ours to decide. 

And when we hang on to that debt, it tears us up inside.

Forgiveness is not something our world applauds. 

We are taught to get even, to take them for all they've got.

But unforgiveness is not for God's people.  

Especially when we have been released from our own evil. 

“I forgive him.”--Three words that echoed through the world..

She may not have known what she had just unfurled. 

But God's Spirit moved across the earth.

Inviting all who thirst to come and find rebirth.  

“I forgive you,” Jesus said when he died. 

It was for the entire world that he was crucified. 

And when you say it too, you are choosing to set him free–

The one who may owe you into eternity. 

“I forgive you” are the words of an overcomer.

And its power exceeds the lightning and thunder. 

Those words reverberate across the earth and into heaven's throng.

Where the angels sing before the Lamb the most angelic song. 

I Will Pray for You

I scroll Facebook on and off throughout the day.  There is so much division, so much hate.  Today, I am watching the Charlie Kirk Memorial and I wonder how these haters feel about it.  

It's sad to see even posts from people I consider friends.   With that in mind, came the following poem. 

I Will Pray For You

I read the hate and how they try to turn the tables. 

They mock and ridicule us calling our faith a  fable. 

And I am tempted to respond by calling it all out. 

To correct their thinking, to silence their doubt.  

But my hand is restrained, my tongue is held still. 

God will speak justice by His sovereign will.

My faith does not require approval of any man. 

God upholds me right here where I stand. 

To those who cheered at a Godly man's death, 

Know  your views will be weighed by God's breath.

And the truth is, I pray for you to turn your heart before then. 

I pray that you will be reconciled to God and turn away from sin. 

You can say who am I to judge and to condemn. 

Again you fail to see my heart and love for all men. 

I restrain myself from hateful words I could say. 

Instead I get on bended knee and pray. 

I reserve judgement for God alone. 

He reigns in power, seated on His throne. 

And I believe you know not what you do–

So I look to heaven and intercede for you. 

There are many ideologies, religions and doctrines we believe.

There many good works men of all cultures have achieved.

But none of that matters without faith in Jesus Christ. 

Our fleshly deeds are dust in God's sight. 

So give your millions you have earned to your favorite charity. 

Stand up for the weak and broken and proclaim your morality. 

While those acts are worthy of man's praise. 

God looks at our hearts not our works and  saves us by His grace. 

So when I watch the news and the social media feeds. 

As man fights against man over doctrines and creeds–

I hold back my voice and simply choose to pray. 

My words pale in comparison to what God has to say. 

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

Be Still and Know

Be Still and Know

Be still and know that I am God.

Be still and listen along the path that you trod.

When you speak to me, breathe–rest in my presence.

Shhh…. Don't speak, just listen in reverence. 

Be still my child, I know you have much to say.

But I know your heart, as you kneel to pray.

I am not far off and beyond your reach. 

I reside within and my spirit will teach.

But be still so you may hear my voice.

Be patient and strong before making a choice.

At the right time, in the right way, I will answer–

Not before and not after.

So simply be still and know: I am El Shaddai.

I am Yahweh, the great God to whom you cry.

I comfort the brokenhearted by healing them.

I guide those who seek me to turn from sin.

I change hearts but only when invited to.

I love you more than you know and patiently wait for you.

Be still, be ready. I am right where you are.

Again, my child, I remind you– I'm not very far.

I see all things– both good and bad.

I rejoice at some, and at others I'm sad.

For I long for men to choose life, not death. 

I see what is and what has not happened yet. 

So be still and know: I am in control. 

I am the God of heaven and earth and will make all things whole. 

Fret not over what you see in the world today. 

For the evil one is temporarily holding the world sway. 

A day is coming–it is now at hand–

When I will silence evil right where it stands. 

The entire world will profess my name for all to hear. 

As I remove all sin and wipe every tear. 

So be still, my child until then. 

Know I am watching over the how and the when. 

My arm is not so short that I cannot save--

Those on the earth, and those in the grave.

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

"Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." Psalm 46:10

This poem was turned into a song and can be heard on my youtube channel here: 

https://youtu.be/yYwrMC2a1FI?si=Iw8E6CLVE77E5Nle

I Dare You

I watch the news every night—and yes, sometimes I end up yelling at the TV, depending on what’s being said. It’s hard not to get frustrated when you hear things that are so inaccurate, so far from the truth.  

But at the end of the day, I remember who’s truly on the throne. God is in control of everything that happens, even when it feels chaotic or unjust.  

Still, there are moments when I just need to write out my frustrations. And it’s funny—because every time I do, God gently reels me back in. He reminds me of His perspective, His sovereignty, and His grace.  

That’s the heart behind the poem that follows.

I Dare You

Those of you who claim you cannot speak,  

That the First Amendment has grown weak,  

That freedom is gone in this land—  

I dare you! Why not take a stand?

How many of you would boldly go  

To a conservative college and share what you know?  

Would you navigate hatred, endure the heat,  

And still choose dialogue over retreat?

I dare you to go on Hannity and teach,  

If your truth is real, then rise and preach.  

But how many times have you been asked to debate,  

Only to decline, dismiss, or hesitate?

There’s a difference between Charlie Kirk and his crowd—  

They stand with courage, humble, not proud.  

They don’t burn buildings when they feel wronged,  

They pray, hold vigils, and remain strong.

Will you stand for God when no one else will. 

When values are mocked will you stand still?

Would you dare to put your life on the line?  

Charlie Kirk did—time after time.

He didn't spend time hating he just spoke truth

He had a heart to open the eyes of our youth,

Despite our colleges and their indoctrination

He gave a voice to young people across this nation. 

Fear was not in his vocabulary.  

He faced the haters, though it might be scary.  

So while you cheer his death and curse his name,  

We will not stand for your hatred and shame. 

We’ve received a call from our God on high  

To labor in truth till the day we die.  

And yes—we’ll pray for your heart to turn,  

For hatred is not where we yearn.

Go ahead—speak, say what you feel.  

But if your words inspire someone to kill,  

That burden is yours, and I pray it won’t come to pass.   

Yet sadly, my brothers, it already has.

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

The What If Train

The What If Train

All Aboard come one come all. 

The train is about to depart when the conductor calls. 

There are not many seats left on this train.

It's named, “what if” and many ride in vain. 

We board and head to the first destination:  

A weary stop known as Frustration.  

The conductor feeds our “what if” thinking,  

With visions of car crashes, boats sinking.

And when we arrive, we get back on again.

Bound for a city called Worry, where it all begins.  

We fret over things that never came to be,  

Haunted by chilling scenarios we only see. 

We settle in—this train feels like home.  

We replay regrets, long since gone.  

Next stop: Past Mistakes, where guilt resides,  

And “what if” shame alters our strides.  

“All aboard!” the conductor cries, far and near,  

As we leave Mistakes and head toward Fear.  

This place paralyzes, stops us in our tracks,  

And the conductor’s voice feels like an attack. 

It’s the What If Train—but you can get off anytime.  

The next stop is Crossroads, where we reach a sign:  

A fork appears, a choice to be made—  

Keep riding, or let go of the burdens we’ve weighed. 

That's where we find the road to peace. 

And where we realize our true destiny. 

So next time you hear all aboard, don't get on. 

Wait for the next train calld you are strong. 

“What if” is not in the language of His Word—  

This path takes you where the Prince of Peace is heard. 

It's in this town that Jesus reigns.

And frees you from the lies heard on the “What If” Train.

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

This poem was adapted into a song and can be viewed on my YouTube channel here:

https://youtu.be/2uvBxsQkmD8?si=16Kh2OJssVSX3QYW

Show Me Your Ways

SHOW ME YOUR WAYS  

Show me Your ways, O God above.  

Reveal to me Your unfailing love.  

Help me to know Your Law deep in my heart—  

To live it out and bring light to the dark.  

Show me Your ways, not the ways of man.  

Empower me to spread it across this land.  

Show me Your ways, so I may become  

A person more like Jesus the Son.  

Christlike, and all You’ve called me to be,  

O Lord, each day help me learn and see.  

Show me Your ways, that I may instill  

Your truth in my children, teaching Your will.  

Why do I ask? So I may know You,  

And lack nothing, as Your Word proves true.  

So I may walk with You, understanding Your ways,  

Living in wisdom through all of my days.  

So I may discern what You would do  

In moments unknown, and speak what is true.  

Not leaning on self, but trusting instead  

That Your ways will guide me where I’m led.  

Show me Your ways each day and night—  

While working, while sleeping—teach me what’s right.  

While driving, while walking throughout the day,  

Help me to hear Your voice and obey.  

Show me Your ways, that I may know You,  

And discern the hearts that are not true.  

Show me Yourself, Lord—Your ways so pure.  

O Father, make them clear and sure.  

And thank You, Lord, for hearing me tonight,  

For loving and guiding me into Your light.  

For showing me thus far, and continuing to lead  

Down paths yet unknown, meeting each need.  

© 1996 Sandra C. Johnson

This poem was adapted into a song and can be viewed on my YouTube channel here:

https://youtu.be/q_joKFoiASA?si=F4LY4i5VTtmze2yQ

The Greatest of All Gifts

Today I share something I wrote back in 1991 and 1997. In 1984, I had known a friend who was a Pentecostal. She tried to pray over me to give me the gift of tongues. I became scared and ran away. This was when I was a freshman in college.

I realized soon after that God had a different calling on my life, but in 1997 he made it clear to me what that calling was. The next two poems are about God's love being the greatest of all gifts. 

The Greatest Gift

She spoke in tongues, was filled with the Spirit—so it seemed,  

Leaving me confused beyond what I’d ever dreamed.  

I wondered, Is tongues for me? Could my views be wrong?  

Then deep within, I heard, “My child, be strong.”

“Many come to you with stories of miracles and such,  

And many great things happen to those lives that I touch.  

But you need listen only to Me—  

By heeding My voice, not man’s, will you truly be free."

So I walked away from her one heartfelt night,  

Unsure of my faith, alone in my fright.

But God gave me peace, and so I journeyed on—  

He showed me that I've known Him all along. 

The greatest lesson I could ever learn:  

Is to love others and God's presence yearn.

Still, there was more for me to understand.  

God gave me joy—and pain, both carefully planned.  

Yet always, His presence remained in my life,  

Guiding me through both joy and strife.

God had shown me peace in Him alone.  

No sign was needed; my faith was known.

Time passed, as I knew it would,  

And I walked on in faith, knowing where I stood.  

When someone insisted I must have these gifts,  

I simply smiled because God’s truth gave me a lift.

Yes, I’m still journeying, still walking with God.  

Still learning obedience on this path I trod.  

I’ve never known wonders noble or grand—  

No tongues, no healing by my hand.

Even as I sat with the sick in a hospital bed,  

Healing never came, but the time was spirit-led. 

I knew in my heart, this gift I’d attained  

Was the one most precious, though hard to explain.

It’s not a gift I can show to man—  

It’s etched in love by God’s own hand.  

Though I speak not in tongues or heal,

God's gift of love is the most excellent still.

© 1997 Sandra C. Johnson

1 CORINTHIANS 13

If I profess to have tongues, what does it profit me

Without love, I am a resounding symbol with no melody. 

I can claim to know all knowledge and prophecy; 

And have a faith that can hurl mountains into the sea. 

But without love, it's useless and means nothing in the world. 

I can give endlessly, and into the flames my body can be hurled. 

You see, I can surrender my whole life for man; 

But without love, I gain nothing, no matter how much I understand. 

But what is love? How are we called to live? 

It needs to be our foundation when we serve and give. 

Love is patient, with those who cannot see; 

Trusting God to allow the seeds to grow, planted in humility. 

Love is kind, in kindness to our neighbor; 

We reach out and show them God's loving favor. 

Love does not envy what others seems to do; 

Even though maybe those good things are not in me and you. 

And love does not boast of all we seem to know; 

Nor loudly announce the ways we grow. 

Love is not proud-- too proud to acknowledge sin. 

True love, walks humbly before God and men. 

Love is not rude, nor quick to wound with speech.

It thinks of others, and in love will gently teach. 

Love is not self seeking, chasing it's own cause; 

It puts others first while honoring God's laws. 

Love is not easily offended by another. 

Keeping no record of wrongs, it  forgives a brother. 

Yet if someone is in sin, love must stop and say; 

Your not in the right, your going the wrong way. 

And when they change, oh how love does rejoice; 

In the truth, it has no other choice. 

Love always protects, and it always trusts.

God's love is fair, unconditional and just.

It always hopes, and always perseveres; 

Loving those estranged from us in prayerful tears. 

This perfect love breaks through and conquers all; 

It lifts the weary and never lets them fall. 

This love must be the foundation of our Christian walk; 

And the sweet aroma of the way we talk. 

Still, it won't always sound gentle or nice; 

For true love must sometimes give hard advice. 

Yet it still remains unchanged, if it's the love of Christ. 

Out of love, He died for us, and was sacrificed. 

God's love is never ending, and never fails; 

It's His love that will in all things, prevail.

© 1991 Sandra C. Johnson 

1 Corinthians 13:1-8, 10-13 NASB1995

[1] If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. [2] If I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. [3] And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me nothing. [4] Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, [5] does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, [6] does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; [7] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. [8] Love never fails; but if there are gifts of prophecy, they will be done away; if there are tongues, they will cease; if there is knowledge, it will be done away. 

[10] but when the perfect comes, the partial will be done away. [11] When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things. [12] For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known. [13] But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love.

We Are Not the Same

 We Are Not the Same

Cities on fire, buildings demolished,  

Crimes unchecked, their acts so polished.  

It all began with George Floyd’s death—  

They made him a hero with every breath.

Church vigils spread across the land,  

Prayers lifted by a humble hand.  

But when Charlie Kirk passed away,  

No riots broke out, no cars ablaze.

We are not the same as those on the other side.  

We’re not consumed by anger, arrogance, or pride.  

We pray for our enemies, walk in humility,  

And honor the fallen without hostility.

We are not the same—we don’t demand  

The right to wreak havoc across the land.  

We don’t mock those who vote another way,  

Or ridicule the faithful when they pray.

The contrast is striking, though years have gone by.  

They claimed we staged an insurrection, a lie.  

But someday, I’m sure the truth will be clear:  

January 6 was not what they feared.

We are not the same—the line has been drawn.  

By their fruits, you’ll know them, from dusk until dawn.  

Jesus said it, and it still rings true:  

One tree bears fruit, the other—few.

We are not the same—we preach Jesus Christ,  

But never by force, nor under cover of night.  

We love through rejection, hold fast to what’s true,  

And follow the call God gives us to do.

You have a choice—two paths to tread:  

One leads to life, the other to dread.  

One is forgiving, full of love and light,  

The other is bitter, cloaked in spite.

As for me, I will follow Jesus the King.  

I will listen to His voice and joyfully sing.  

I won’t let hate rule—I’ll give it to Him,  

For that is His will for all men.

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson 

This poem was adapted into a song and can be viewed on my YouTube channel here:

https://youtu.be/2qS6KGahrF4?si=NMEAH6lYz5bZiT1X

All Lives Matter to God

This has been a very somber and sad week as we mourn the loss of Charlie Kirk. And as I read social media posts criticizing us for not mourning the loss of a Democrat or somebody we don't agree with as much, I stand in shock. This is not a time to judge each other. Some of those posts that were put out there I didn't even know about. I do not think they are less significant.  Charlie Kirk was a well known figure that touched many people. Those who he touched have the right to mourn without feeling judged for it.  So in thinking of that I realized yes those Democrats that got killed matter to God. The unborn that are killed in the womb matter to God. The black person that's murdered matters to God. The white person that was slain in the subway matters to God.  They ALL matter to God.

All Lives Matter to God

When people criticize us for grieving one man,

And show us others slain by a murderer's hand,

Implying we don't care for those who've died–

Oh how wrong they are. We love all lives.

All lives matter to God– not just black or white.

Race, religion– it's all the same in His sight.

In this culture shaped by social media's sway,

It's easy to assume and misjudge what we say.

All lives matter to us who love Jesus Christ.

When one of our own dies, it cuts like a knife.

Losing someone close, tears you up inside.

That's why we grieve for this precious man who died.

It's not that we don't care for others now gone;

We've grieved their absence all along.

But let us weep in peace without accusation–

And use words of comfort not condemnation.

This isn't a time for name calling or taking a side,

But a time to unite and lay down our pride.

Whether you liked this man or disagreed with what he said,

I would hope you wouldn't have ever wished him dead.

He is gone now after fighting a good fight. 

His loss is felt– but not his alone in God's sight.

Every life, every child is precious and dear. 

God cherishes every single life and holds them near. 

So when you post pictures of others who have died,

And question why for them we haven’t cried–

It’s not that we did not care or mourn their fate,

But we did not know them--but still our grief resonates. 

All lives matter– Christian, atheist, Republican, Democrat

Jesus died for each one of them right there where they're at.

And all lives matter to us as we reach the world for Christ.

Praying many will see His love and His light. 

God desires none to perish, none to be lost. 

So we choose to love, no matter the cost. 

We endeavor to reach the world and make our enemies a friend

As God reconciles the entire earth to Him. 

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson 

I Won’t Apologize

I Won’t Apologize

I won’t apologize for my faith or for saying what I feel.  

I won’t apologize for believing in a God I know is real.  

I won’t apologize for my morals, my values, or where I stand—  

And I won’t apologize for grieving the death of a godly man.

I’m sickened and disgusted by the world I see today:  

The hate, the accusations, the venom they send our way.  

I won’t apologize for standing against corruption and lies.  

I stand firm in my convictions—I’ve learned to spot their disguise.

You’d think they could have paused, just briefly,  

As someone mourned the loss of a father.  

You’d think they’d show compassion  

To a grieving, widowed mother.  

But when we weep, they ask about others who’ve died—  

As if we didn’t care. That’s just another lie.

No apologies—I’m done. If offense is taken, so be it.  

I know my heart. I strive for fairness, and I mean it.  

No one should be assassinated—no matter who they are.  

Democrat or Republican, we’ve let it go too far.

When the children in Texas died, the left rushed to assign blame.  

While parents grieved in silence, drowning in their pain.  

Again came the attacks, the politics, the shame—  

Instead of simply praying for the families by name.

So I look at this world and hear the rhetoric from both sides.  

I throw my hands to heaven—only in God do I confide.  

We’ve failed the test of love, of mercy, and forgiveness.  

This tragedy exposed our hearts—and our divisiveness.

I won’t apologize for being gaslit by the world.  

For questioning my faith as their accusations unfurled.  

For honoring a godly martyr with reverence and grace—  

No, I won’t apologize for giving him his rightful place.

We fail the test of compassion when we pick and choose  

Whom to honor, whom to shame, based on their views.  

But God’s love is unconditional—He died for every man.  

Not based on politics, religion, or where we stand.

So let us never apologize for what we believe.  

Let us treat one another with dignity and reprieve.  

Let us stand firm, even when the world demands we cave—  

For we each have a choice in how our souls behave.

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

An Ode to Charlie Kirk

An Ode to Charlie Kirk

He was not a politician, but struck down in his prime,  

A man who sought to shape young hearts and minds.  

Simply because of what this young man believed,  

He was shot down by what another perceived.  

We say our nation’s divided—and sadly, it’s true.  

People hurt others for a different point of view.  

But today as this man of God was shot down. 

There was not a dry eye that could be found. 

“It all has to stop” many out there will say. 

“It's time to legislate and take the guns away.”

The left will accuse the right as they always do. 

Though much of what they claim will not be true.

A man died today because of what he believed

And some will scoff, while others will deeply grieve.

He was a husband, a father, a friend—  

His life had meaning; it should not have met this end.  

He wasn’t a politician, but an activist bold,  

With wisdom beyond years and a heart of gold.  

We may never grasp why his life ceased today,  

But we find comfort knowing with him, God had His way.  

This world is upside down—he tried to make it right,  

Restoring common sense to youth lost in the night.  

And many like him will rise follow in his steps,  

For he left a legacy that few will forget.  

His name was Charlie Kirk. May he never be forgot.  

Today marked infamy—a great man was shot.  

May he rest in peace, and may his family find grace  

To gather the pieces and stand in his place.

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

God's Vindication

 God's Vindication

When God says I will vindicate you. 

It doesn't mean vengeance will come true. 

Sometimes vindication means working through pain

And forgiving the others who stay the same. 

Vengeance is mine, says God on high. 

Which means He calls the shots on the how and the why.

You need not know what He is going to do

Just rest and let God vindicate you. 

When God promises vindication. 

It means He will intervene in the situation. 

But just as He works on you he is working on them.

His way will always work out in the end. 

What we forget is that God's vengeance,

Is sprinkled with grace and forgiveness. 

His plan is to restore all men,

And create a new person within. 

So when God says “I'll vindicate,” remember: 

His ways are best, His love the center.

His vindication works both ways. 

And He is worthy of thanks and given all praise. 

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

17 Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. 18 If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. 19 Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,”[d] says the Lord. 20 On the contrary:

“If your enemy is hungry, feed him;

    if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.

In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.”[e]

21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

Romans 12:17-21

Unless I See the Scars

Unless I See the Scars

I need to see the holes where the nails were. 

Before I believe–I need evidence to be sure. 

To feel, to touch, to know it’s true,  

I fear being deceived, as many do.  

 

“Blessed are you,” said Jesus long ago,  

“To those who believe, though don't always know.

Faith is the evidence of things unseen,  

Trusting the promise and all it will mean.  

Do you need to see the scars before committing?  

Do you need trust in the proof you’re admitting?  

Today’s culture cries, “Follow the facts!”  

“Follow the science!”—but faith often acts  

In contrast to what the world demands:  

Degrees and data, not nail-pierced hands.  

Yet God understands the heart that needs to know—  

Jesus showed His wounds so Thomas wouldn’t let go.  

He does that to those of us who need to know too. 

Because He loves us and will leads us to what is true. 

But blessed are you who have never seen

And still believe in Christ the King.

“I need to see the scars,” many say today,  

As they search for God, and hope, and pray.  

Afraid to believe, taught to doubt,  

They need more before they can work it out.

If you need to see his scars, dear friend, it’s okay.

If that is what it takes, for you I will pray. 

Just as Jesus met Thomas with grace back then,  

I pray He’ll show you what you need—Amen.

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

24 Now Thomas (also known as Didymus[a]), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. 25 So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!" 

But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

26 A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” 27 Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”

28 Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”

29 Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."

John 20:24-29

 

 

 

They Know Not What They Do

They Know Not What They Do

A long time ago, in a place far away,

As Jesus hung on the cross He did say:

“Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do.”

And still today, walk a path that's not true.

I stand and gaze at the world's vast population,

Listening to the news and man's declarations.

I realize nothing is new under the sun–

We repeat, age by age, what's already been done.

The right accuses the left, the left accuses the right,

Each side convinced they dwell in the light.

They invoke God’s name to defend their morality,  

Yet truth isn’t found in political polarity.

I look at the world and wonder: do they know, God, what they do?  

Do they grasp how far they’ve drifted from You?  

So I pray, as Jesus did long ago on the cross:  

“Forgive them, Lord—they are truly lost.”

I don’t say this to excuse mankind,  

For not all are blind—some choose to be unkind.  

Yet who am I to judge what others believe or say?  

All I can do is kneel and pray.

“Open their eyes, Lord, so they may see  

That only in You can they truly be free.  

Forgive them, for they know not what they do—  

Illuminate their vision so they may follow You.”

We live in a world where hatred reigns,  

Where passion and pride leave spiritual stains.  

But I believe change is near—not by my hand,  

But by Your Spirit moving across this land.

They know not what they do, indoctrinated by lies,  

Which is why so many on the right are despised.  

We know not what we do when we fail to seek truth,  

When we follow like sheep, uncaring and uncouth.

Yes, they know not what they do—so I’ll continue to pray,  

Entrusting their souls to God each day.  

I’ll reserve judgment, for only He can decide  

Who walks in blindness, and who in pride

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

Unexpected

God moves in ways we don’t expect—  

What He ordains, the world rejects.  

We sketch our plans, but He smiles instead,  

And shifts the path where we thought we’d tread.  

He moves in ways both bold and unseen,  

His hand at work in all routine.  

His thoughts are higher, His wisdom deep,  

He reigns above—our souls He keeps.  

God’s ways are unexpected—by design,  

Set in motion before our time.  

We lean on strength that cannot last,  

Yet find His sovereignty steadfast.  

So when life shakes and feels unsure,  

And you wonder if He’s still near—  

Fret not, His ways are not like ours,  

They stretch beyond the stars.  

His ways are not our ways—hold fast.  

He moves through seasons as they pass.  

He knows the end from what we see,  

Which is why He moves so unexpectedly.

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,

    neither are your ways my ways,”

declares the Lord.

9 

“As the heavens are higher than the earth,

    so are my ways higher than your ways

    and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Isaiah 55:8-9

Kicking Against the Goads

Kicking Against the Goads

To those in high places upon the earth,  

To kings and rulers of noble birth—  

Why do you kick against the goads,  

Then stand in shock as God's plan unfolds?

God placed you there; He alone decides  

What comes to pass, despite your pride.  

When you resist His will, you fight the Most High,  

Blind to His purpose, deaf to His why.

God is the true ruler, granting limited permission.  

He moves through history, despite your ambition.  

If you exalt your ways above what He’s designed,  

You kick against the goads—every single time.

To all mankind, of every race and nation,  

A day will come of holy revelation.  

You’ll fall to your knees and confess with your tongue:  

Jesus is Lord—no matter where you're from.

You kick against the goads when you stand on your own,  

Rooted in morals that man has condoned.  

Built on opinions, ideologies, and trends,  

Ignoring the truth that never bends.

God is the same—yesterday, today, forever.  

You fight His will when you chase your own endeavor.  

When you step outside the path He’s drawn,  

You kick against the goads from dusk till dawn.

Paul the apostle thought he was right,  

Persecuting Christians with zealous might.  

But he was stopped by the Savior of all,  

Who asked, “Why do you kick against My call?”

God revealed the battle Paul could never win—  

He was fighting against Heaven, steeped in sin.  

God still does this when we go astray,  

Interrupting our plans in His sovereign way.

And to those who claim to follow Him,  

Yet stand with those who won’t turn from sin—  

Who support infanticide and gender confusion,  

You kick against the goads in moral delusion.

Stop fighting God, my friend—it won’t end in your favor.  

He reigns supreme; our fate rests in the Savior.  

Just as the scales fell from Paul’s eyes back then,  

May we all let God remove them and write His law within.

© 2025 Sandra C. Johnson

13 About noon, King Agrippa, as I was on the road, I saw a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, blazing around me and my companions. 14 We all fell to the ground, and I heard a voice saying to me in Aramaic,[a] ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.’

15 “Then I asked, ‘Who are you, Lord?’

“ ‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,’ the Lord replied. 16 ‘Now get up and stand on your feet. I have appeared to you to appoint you as a servant and as a witness of what you have seen and will see of me.

Acts 26:13-16

This poem was adapted into a song and can be viewed on my YouTube channel here:

https://youtu.be/x2IweblRYN4?si=7BmMrirK2p-fYxAc