I Caught a Glimpse of the Universe

I caught a glimpse of the Universe.

He was the One who showed it to me.

From where I stood, I saw from eternity to eternity.

I caught a glimpse of the Universe

It only lasted a second.

I felt in the love I had for the woman who felt abandoned.

I caught a glimpse of the Universe.

It was only there a moment.

I heard it as the doctor told of stars and the Son’s movement.

I caught a glimpse of the Universe.

It happened rather quickly.

I spoke it as I sang aloud, me and all God’s Amy.

I caught a glimpse of the Universe.

I felt it in my heart.

I heard it every day we spent months and months apart.

I saw it in the people.

I spoke it to them too.

I had it work I did, the work He gave me to do.

I caught a glimpse of God’s Universe.

He send me here to find it.

He pointed down which path to look,

And with His love He signed it.

-Sister Clorisa Hansen 7/11/14

Joys of the Journey

A young traveler once met a divide on a mountain side.

One road was current with the path he now tread.

The other seemed harder for in a higher plain did it abide.

But with a hopeful heart, the boy stepped up his stride.

At first, it seemed all was well,

But then he tripped and his courage fell.

His progression slowed as he stumbled along.

The hope he once had was now gone.

He needed to stop. He needed to rest.

But then he recall something that put his faith to the test.

It was the voice of his father and friend.

“Push on, my son. Look for joy on your way.

Don’t stop until you’re reached the end of the day.”

So again he started, his feet still sore.

But he would walk and climb ’til he couldn’t anymore.

As he continued his climb,

He couldn’t help but notice the beauty sublime.

When he stumbled, he would spot all the wild flowers.

As he sweat, he was grateful for the wind and its powers.

Finally, as the day began to close, the weary traveler reached the summit’s peak.

Down the trotted path he looked, o’er the vast valleys and streams.

Such was the beauty he beheld, such marvels as no tongue can speak.

Then upon his shoulder he felt a touch and looked

To see the father death had once took.

Tears brimmed and fell as each embraced.

“Well done, my son,” His father beamed. “Your reward is well earned.

You labored well and did much good.

Thank you for doing all you could.”

Isn’t it interesting

Isn’t it interesting
That the worlds aligned so perfectly.
And the smallest detail has come to be.
Isn’t it interesting
That the heart beats just right,
That the stars come out at night.
Isn’t it interesting
That the lights come on when you flip a switch.
That voices change in tone and pitch.
Isn’t it interesting
That winter turns into spring.
If you want to talk, just give a ring.
Isn’t it interesting
That you were made with eyes that see,
That friends are made of you and me.
Isn’t it interesting
That in a garden there suffered one
to pay the price for what the world has done.
Isn’t it interesting
That He would leave His throne divine
to save each soul, including mine.
Isn’t it interesting
That in this world so full of hate
He loved enough to save us from our cursed fate.
Oh, how grateful I should be
that He gave all these interesting things to me.
-Clorisa Hansen 11/25/13

A Missionary Poem

A new missionary pin on his badge,
All shiney and bright.
He wore it proudly
As he toiled both morning and night.
As the weeks passd slowly, and day merged into day,
this little greenie had nothing to do but pray.
His badge was now tarnished.
His proud spirit broken.
His sore feet was his only token.
No one would listen.
No one would hear.
No one allowed that Holy Spirit near.
“Why, O God?” The missionary cried. “Why send me here?
I’ve used all my smarts, but they’ll never change.
Lord, send me away.
There is no work to be done in the vineyard today.”
Then a voice came with a heavenly sound.
It comforted the child the whole world ’round.
“Be still, my son. Humble your heart,
And show me willingness to do your part.
Peace, my child. Dry your eyes.
Remember I am by your side.
I will show you what My hand can get.
You are not defeated yet.”
With new vigor, the missionary sprang to his feet.
With God as his sheild, nothing couldn’t be beat.
He rose to the task, both body and soul.
He spoke, but a little and let the Spirit flow.
Disappointment still came. His faith was still tried,
But never, never did it break his stride.
-Clorisa Hansen 7/26/13