To A Father It Led
Posted Oct 15, 2010 by Jonathan Otto in Worship of True God
My poem expressing my journey in understanding the Father and His Son in scripture
He found me when searching a book in my hand;
A heart full of questions trying to understand.
So I picked up the book and took it as it read;
The mystery unfolded and to a Father it led.
My Saviour, the Son, I cherished do dearly;
For my method of study let me see, oh so clearly.
And in Jesus’ sweet person I found my sonship revealed;
And a Father who gave that a lost child be sealed.
So I stood there a while in that sweet embrace;
I’m a son, found in Christ, I could see my Father’s face.
All my questions found answers in the pages I read freely;
For my method of study let me see, oh so clearly.
I said Lord, may I lead them to be in heaven crowned?
He said, My son, you must lead them to the place you were found.
A teacher called over, and said ‘How do you read?’
He said, ‘I’ll show you, son, and you’ll be in no need.’
He asked questions with no answers, and I searched through my book;
He said, Son, just look deeper. My cherished method; forsook.
I grew fond of power as in new pages I could find
Mysteries and secrets all subject to my mind.
I spoke with Plato and Alexander; even Valentinus, a friend;
And in these wise philosophers my peace of mind found its end.
For I cried out to the Father, ‘Please take these doubts from me!’
In these vain philosophies His face I could not see.
His identity obscured from sight a Father no longer close;
For His Son had lost everything I adored the most.
A Father and Son: heartbreak at Calvary I no longer read;
But three beings, all associates took their place instead.
I sought to ask the question, ‘How can this be understood?’
I faced a stern look and stare, ‘Keep quiet. You’ll do no good.’
And in all the turmoil, I searched for understandings pure;
But the few verses when presented seemed so vague, so obscure.
But I tried to gain souls for him but the gospel lost its power;
No Father or Son, left orphaned, alone; a new method: my darkest hour.
‘From where does the devil roar?’ On my knees I did plead;
A voice came from heaven, ‘My child, tell me how you read.’
I fought tooth and nail; could I lose all prestige?
My ego strove to live; the Lord aided in the siege.
After darkened ages shone the light of William Miller’s key;
The Scriptures unless breaking nature’s law must be read literally.
The truths unfolded like treasure scattered from its rusty chest;
And crowning jewel of splendor, my Father and His Son I deemed best.
I stand here all day in His sweet embrace;
I’m His child found in Christ; I can see my Father’s face.
And that precious word of promise, You’re my son; in you I’m proud
Received in Jesus, God’s own Son, I am finally found!