He Leads My Soul

There, there He leads my soul:
   through mountains, rivers, brambled lands;
There, there He feeds my soul:
   on manna from His loving hands.
The way be rough and arduous,
   great strain at every turn;
But though the way is filled with pain,
  'tis graced by His presence at each turn.
I'd not have chosen this my path,
   this way so filled with grief;
Nor would I trade these many years,
   because I've seen Him bring relief.
My God, my God—He leads me on,
   and though I know not where;
I know I'm safe within His hands
   and on Him cast my care!
Soon, soon this road shall wind to heav'n—
   by faith I'll see that place;
Then by His own dear Sovereign love,
   I'll see His smiling face.

- D. Benning

God's Timing is the Best

Lord, Your timing is the best,
   The working of Your perfect plan
   Your dealings and works with man!

How marvelous Your perfect charity,
   How gracious Your Mercy and Your Love.
   Now seen in the symbol of Your dove.

You watch o'er us with gracious Love,
   All to work Your perfect will and desire;
   Amazing how You bring us higher!

- D. Benning

We Weep But Not

We weep but not like pagans weep:
   the doleful sorrows and mournful cries.
We weep but not like those sans hope:
   the empty pit within a thousand sighs.
No, our sorrow is a tempered sorrow,
   buoyed up by hope of endless shores.
Our sadness pauses to look up
   and catch a glimpse of Heaven's door.
And at that door all earthy sorrows will flee
   with but a single look at Jesus' face!
There thousands join in joyful song,
   where soon we'll be by grace!


~D. Benning

1 Thes. 4:13

Thoughts

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

Phil. 4:8 - 9

The world is closing in around me, press-
    ing out all thoughts of God, and leaving me
    With hate.  The world is going crazy: see
The raging vengeance—all around the ugliness!
They rush around with forkéd tongues—speak "Yes"
    But mean "No"; look not but at one's Pedigree,
    And selfishly give to charity:
All so that they might further their success!

    But how?  Success to what, dear God and Lord?
        For theirs is but a fleeting joy of ease;
        For You have promised to give all my needs
    According to Your wealth, as in Your Word.

            So whatsoever things are lovely, just, and true,
            Think on them and the God of Peace shall be with you.

 - D. Benning


This poem from 1982 was written as a poetic expression of the fourth chapter of Philippians: "Christ our Adequacy."  Especially incorporating verses 19 and 8 - 9.

On Silverwind

The sunset set no more upon the land
   In twilight dimming at the end of day,
Because the Light did glitter and expand
   To fill the sky and drive the night away.
The air just shook with mighty chords of praise
   As saints and angels sang unto the KING;
In solemn righteousness He then did gaze
   Upon His Bride: His Love for Her—His suffereing!
  
     Dear Lord, Oh! this vision of beauty:
        I thank You for the promise of Home—
     Where the streets are of gold and of rubies—
        Vivid!  so vivid a land unknown!
     
   Take me O Morning Star on Silverwind to that Place far, far away
   Where You are the Lamp like a Sun—Giver of Eternal Day!

- D. Benning

This was written sometime in 1980 or 1981 when I was still in junior college and had just found the music of a group call Silverwind.  They were very '80s sounding and were a little bit early Euro-techno even though it wasn't called that yet.  One of the singers escaped from communist controlled Bulgaria and had an incredible story to tell how he came to believe in Jesus Christ. 

Long story made short: I bought a cassette tape of their album and was fascinated by this one line on the cover under their name, Silverwind:

Take me, O Morning Star, on Silverwind to that Place far, far away.

I was in the midst of my exploring sonnets and  the "sprung rhythm" of Gerald Manley Hopkins, so I suddenly, on a whim, decided that I should incorporate that line into a full-fledged poem.  The above is the result (with slight edits here some thirty-five years later).

In case you're curious what that group sounded like, here is their "Taking the Narrow Street."