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MOST RECENT WRITINGS
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THANKFULNESS
Content with little, content with much;
how could this possibly be?
Because my love, my devotion, my focus, my passion
is Jesus . . . and that makes me happy.
Salvation, forgiveness, mercy and grace . . .
a Father who is forever faithful;
these things alone are more than enough
for me to be totally grateful.
What more do I need? What more could I want?
Dare I moan about things I have not?
Should my contentment be based upon commodities and wealth
or the treasure of my friendship with God?
A Redeemer who died in my place for my sin
deserves all I have, all that I am.
If I devote my attention to earthly success,
it dilutes my devotion to Him.
He’s the One I was created to glorify;
not my self, my desires, my fulfillment.
If He is my focus, I need nothing more ~
because He is the source of contentment.
Salvation, forgiveness, mercy and grace,
a Father who is forever faithful;
these things alone should be more than enough.
They are. And He is. And I’m grateful.
THE TRADEOFF
If my pastor never preaches
on salvation and holiness,
never speaks out against my sin,
never calls for my repentance,
bypassing the hard scriptures,
preaching prosperity “now” and blessings . . .
when prosperity “now” is over . . .
what will I do?
Plead ignorance before the Lord
and point at you . . .
pastor?
Who will come to my quick defense
to explain that my ignorance
was the result of a charlatan
in shepherd’s clothing?
Can you hear my cries and screams
as I writhe in burning flames
or are you much too busy today
just preaching nothing?
Yes, under your guidance
I chose to be.
Your words ignored my lifestyle
and tickled my fancy,
but I am now faced with eternal reality.
How I wish . . .
how I wish . . .
I’d sought the Truth.
How I wish . . .
my horrid death sentence
could be passed
to you.
AS EASY AS TURNING
Away from the word,
away from worship,
away from time spent with him;
dry ~
so dry,
vacant, empty,
you cry ~
longing for the passion again.
It’s as easy as turning,
turning,
just turn around,
turn around ~
face him;
he’s never left you,
his presence awaits you,
just turn around,
he’ll embrace you
again.
WHO, WHO ARE YOU
Who,
who are you
when you’re in the marketplace
in the midst of your workday
does the fragrance of Christ remain
or do you inhale
the polluted air
of the lost and dying?
Does your fragrance go away
replaced by the smell
of death’s decay
no longer separate
you laugh and play
with unholy playmates
where some of the words you speak
are in conflict with what you believe
can fresh water and salt water
ever flow from the same spring?
Who,
who are you
away from brothers and sisters in Christ
away from family oversight
does His light in you burn bright
or does it dim
hidden under a basket
of compromise?
Who,
who are you really
when the one really watching you . . .
is Jesus Christ?
ME IN ME
Me in me. How smart am I?
How wise. How discerning. How brilliant.
God’s thoughts may be much higher than mine;
but surely He's impressed with my input.
Or is He?
If it’s true that His hand spans the universe,
then I’m just a speck on that plain,
and within that speck
lies a microscopic fleck
of the teeniest, tiniest brain.
In all I do,
in all I say,
in every calculation,
if it’s done without God
based on vanity and pride,
it's dangerous,
it’s ineffective,
it’s wasted.
Me in me ~
so much of nothing.
Jesus in me ~
the source of all wisdom.
Me in me ~
a hindrance to the Kingdom.
Let me listen
to the counsel
of the Lord.
I'M A CARRIER
A carrier of hemophilia,
I learned at the age of 13
every son I'd potentially give birth to
was at risk for this awful disease.
So in fear I made the decision
to never have one single child,
and this “carrier of hemophilia”
became a barren and childless wife.
But this Sunday during corporate worship,
as we sang "send your rain,
send your rain,
oh Lord",
the Holy Spirit spoke so powerfully to me
and He showed to me something much more.
He said, “Yes, you are a carrier . . .
a carrier of Jesus Christ . . .
not a carrier of sickness, but of life-giving Life;
unborn children wait for you past these doors.
Pregnant with My power and purpose,
take what you've received to the outside ~
share Life with the ones you encounter this week
and watch the family of God multiply."
A NECESSARY DELAY
You’ve asked and you’ve asked,
and you’ve waited and waited,
and the gift you’d most like to receive
has yet to arrive,
one more year passes by . . .
is it one that you ever will see?
How many times do you have to ask
or receive "a word" time and again
that it’s a gift,
it’s a calling
which will someday be yours?
Okay. You believe it. Now when?
It’s about timing.
It’s about preparation.
It’s about faith and hope and trust,
walking humbly in God's plan.
It’s about patience.
It’s about refining.
And no amount of whining will rush His timing . . .
‘cause it’s all about Him.
When you become
nameless,
faceless,
and submitted,
you might see it then.
LIFE CHANGES
Life changes ~
the scenery . . .
the faces . .
different people . . .
different places.
But the mission
does not change.
Our assignment
stays the same:
light and salt . . .
today . . . always ~
each day,
a day
the Lord has made
to save 'em.
THE RIGHT TO SPEAK
A little rhyme
about yours and mine
and I hope you'll pay attention . . .
though my words disagree
with the things you believe,
it's my right to speak forth freely in this nation.
Though my words may quite offend you,
get a spine and speak your mind ~
it's freedom that makes this Country tried and true . . .
but if you take away my rights
to freely speak my mind,
one day someone else will surely muzzle you
because
impeding First Amendment rights
is a dangerous, slippery slope . . .
if you remove my right to speak,
you will one day lose your own
when you offend another
with an intolerant, insensitive word,
your right to speak will quickly cease
as you fall on your own sword.
THE DEAD "c"
Have you ever used a product ~
a cheap, imitation brand,
you called it Kleenex and blew your nose
and wound up with snot in your hand?
It wasn't a Kleenex, but it looked like it was ~
a knock-off . . . an imitation . . . a ruse;
even though you just called it a Kleenex,
it was simply a second-rate tissue,
the kind of product, if people didn't know,
that would give Kleenex a really bad name . . .
like the label of christian you hear tossed about
in these "anything goes" kind of days
where everyone says they're a christian,
but the thing that their label implies
is sometimes I'm nice and sometimes I'm spiritual,
but I'm really not living for Christ
because if I were, you would see the fruit . . .
not a pro-sin or anti-Israel stance . . .
you'd see a person solely devoted to Jesus,
one who lives by and keeps His commands,
you'd see a person who believes He's the only way
and doesn't pray to . . . or worship other gods,
who extends a hand of mercy and speaks the Truth in Love
to the sick, the dying, and the lost.
So let me just say to each one of you
who've been injured or mocked or betrayed
by someone who says they're a christian . . .
that's not how a true Christian behaves.
What you've encountered is an imitation . . .
low-end goods with a high-priced sticker . . .
a little "c" christian who's not the real deal . . .
a dead "c" . . .with no life, love, or power.
THE DEFINITION OF TOLERANCE:
broadmindedness, open-mindedness,
acceptance and lenience,
but what does that mean . . . and how can that be . . .
if we follow the teachings of Jesus,
who said
wide is the gate and broad is the road
that leads unto destruction.
Should we ignore his words to pacify the world
and disregard his truthful instruction?
When he said
I am the Way, the Truth and the Life,
no one comes to the Father but through me,
did he mean what he said or did he forget
to include Allah, Muhammad, and Gandhi?
No. He didn't.
He said go and teach all of the nations,
baptize them in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit . . .
so this is what we do because he told us to;
we are His . . . and we will be obedient.
You see, we can't pick and choose what we believe . . .
there are no two ways around it . . .
He is God and there is no other . . .
it's your choice to believe or discount it.
But fear not, we are truly Christians
and as such, we walk in his Love . . .
we will not injure you, torture or kill you
if you choose not to live for the One.
Your judgment comes
when your life here is done.
JESUS INSIDE
Trendy hair styles,
proper make up,
pluck those eyebrows,
work out, shape up . . .
weekly manicures,
clothing that flatters,
diminish those wrinkles,
because how you look matters . . .
oh yes,
how you look matters . . .
don't you know
how you look matters . . .
to the world?
How sad that
it should matter . . .
to me.
How I wish we could be cherished
for what is inside
and not have to worry
about what is outside . . .
because as we grow older,
it's harder to compete
with lovely, young women
and their concept of beauty . . .
someday what's inside
will be all we have left
and nothing we can do
will have any effect . . .
old is old and wrinkled's wrinkled . . .
slapping paint on an old, warped barn
accents the holes where the knots used to be . . .
it's painted, but it's still an old barn
so let me say now
that there's beauty inside . . .
it's the place within us
where Jesus resides
and shouldn't such beauty
be cherished . . . recognized
by all those who love and serve Christ?
Whose we are should be much more attractive
than the way we appear on the outside.
Godly husbands, please look at your wives in this way . . .
and bless the Beauty that lives inside.
ON SAVING A LIFE . . .
The clink-clatter of dishes being served and collected . . .
muted conversations . . . hints of laughter . . .
I sit in a booth all alone and quite happy . . .
away from stress . . . enjoying food . . . it's my lunch hour!
I savor my meal . . . warm, delicious, nutritious,
as a woman at the table next to me
lifts a fork to her mouth, inhales as she swallows,
coughs and sputters . . . with eyes bulging . . . she is choking.
Struggling for air, I observe her with interest . . .
it's obvious she can't breath on her own
and I know CPR . . . the Heimlich Maneuver too,
but if help her, then my food will become cold.
I look around to see who else has noticed
as her face turns scarlet red, then purpley-blue.
I sip my soup, butter my bread, and wonder,
am I the one to come to her rescue?
Perhaps when I am finished I can help her . . .
Ooops! Too late, she's now collapsed upon the floor . . .
a crowd gathers 'round her, feeling for a pulse,
but the stress has caused her heart to beat no more.
Dead . . . they roll her body out the door.
Dessert anyone?
How different are we, the followers of Christ,
as we meet the lost and dying every day?
We know the Way to save them from death,
but wrapped up
in our own lives . . .
we turn away.
Perhaps we need to save a life today?
HIDING IN THE SHADOWS
Hiding in the shadows
flirting with the devil
shading your eyes from the Light
you peer out on occasion
but it's a glaring reminder
of the time you once spent
in the sunshine . . .
a place where you once lived
where you sang
and you danced
in the freedom
that comes from True Life . . .
but you stepped into the darkness
with flesh-feeding comrades
to another life . . .
which is no life . . .
it is Death.
I'M TALKING BUSINESS
Your Spirit is more convincing
than all my verbal acrobats
and the power of my persuasion
has no power
outside Your plan,
yet the one who stands before me
needs You, Lord,
quite desperately . . .
so . . .
oblivious to the fact,
as before my desk he stands,
I am praying . . .
praying for him . . .
and I feel Your presence
come in like a flood;
we're talking business,
but I'm pleading Your blood
to pierce His darkness
and save His life . . .
he's looking at me,
but You're the one
who's making me smile.
TEARS FOR VIRGINIA
Frustrated by my far-away location,
I see your faces; hear your stories, through the news.
Oh, that I could reach out to you through the television,
wipe away your tears and say I love you.
For I see the tender, wounded ones of Virginia,
and I feel a great compassion from the Lord.
I know He's weeping with each one of you this hour,
and I know His tears are falling on Blacksburg.
How I long to be His arms of great compassion,
His hands of healing and His voice of gentle love.
He wants to comfort all the hearts that have been broken,
and He longs to draw each one unto Himself.
So I say to the wounded, frightened, and the weary,
I love you . . . I really love you in Jesus' name.
And though I can't be with you in your time of grieving,
Jesus can, and for each of you, that's what I pray.
ALL THINGS NEW
That was then
this is now
different people
back then
we were
lost
but now
found
free
and unbound
to love . . .
greatly love
each other.
Scarred by the past
no longer
we're new creations in Christ
hurtful words said
washed away
by the blood
forgiven
forgotten
forever.
A FRAGRANCE BEYOND FLOWERS
More fragrant
than a hundred bouquets of flowers . . .
sweeter
than all the candies in the world
is the transparent,
gentle heart
of a husband
when he gives
his wife
a tender,
loving
word.
EASTER MESSAGE
When you care
more about you
than you do
about me
it counters all your claims
about your spirituality
for if I am your Savior
and if I am your Lord
I (and all I want from you)
take first place
over your wants
and what is yours
(which, by the way, is nothing)
when you care
more about you
than you do
about me
you make yourself a god
and you have no part of me
my plans and my purposes
should be yours
and if they're not
as you celebrate today
the Resurrection
you might ask yourself
who (or what)'s become my god?
As you stand today
in the midst of the congregation
dressed up in all your Easter finery
are you here
so friends and family
can have a "look at you"
or have you come
because
you live
to
worship
me?
THOUGH THE GROUND MAY SHAKE . . .BE GROUNDED
(Definition of "grounded": the secure feeling of being in touch with reality)
The Lord says to his people
be grounded
be grounded in what you believe
be grounded in My Word
be grounded in Me
in the reality of eternity
for dark days are ahead
ones of sorrow and tribulation
of despair
hopelessness
and death
do not be grounded in the world ~
if you are, you'll collapse when it's shaken
instead know what you believe and in whom you believe
keep your heart and your mind on your Savior
and though the ground may shake
uncontrollably
you will stand
stand in faith and peace
if you're grounded
grounded
in Me.
CHOSEN TO BE . . .
Paul tells us that he was chosen by God
to be an apostle of Jesus Christ,
so I wonder if God then also chose me
to be something specific in this life . . .
for instance . . .
if I, Cheri Henderson, were chosen by God
to be a poet of Jesus Christ,
I can't take this assignment lightly
nor the words and the phrases I write.
for if, in fact, I am His poet,
there are people He's appointed to read
what I wrote . . .
and respond . . .
and dedicate their lives
to the thing they've been called to be!
So think about it. What is your calling?
What has God chosen you to be . . .
for this moment, this hour, this day, or this life?
Your obedience will affect eternity.
How many await the call on your life . . .
to respond to the call on their own?
LOST LITTLE GIRL - A Letter to Britney Spears & Jessica Simpson
Lost little girl, you once knew me
but you traded my love for the world.
In your darkness and despair,
call my name, child, I am there . . .
waiting for your return.
I do still love you.
You and I -- we used to be friends.
Remember the love you had for me then?
I was the one on whom you could always depend
to love you. Will you love me again?
Your days are filled with such loneliness.
You find that the world brings no gladness.
Your heart now knows nothing but sadness.
You wanted much more and found less.
So many times I have knocked at your door,
but my presence is one you choose to ignore.
Why? When there's no one who loves you more.
Would you love me as you used to before?
For from my love there's nowhere to hide.
There isn't one moment you're free from my sight.
Have you forgotten, dear daughter, I gave you my life?
Do you remember me? I am your Savior, Jesus Christ.
WOOD, HAY & STUBBLE
Surrounded by so many wonderful things,
my home, my sports car, my necklaces and rings,
a camper, a motorcycle, a new ATV,
a swimming pool, hot tub, and a wide-screen TV,
all quite enjoyable I really must say,
still wood, hay and stubble at the end of the day,
nice to have around, but someday I'll "leave town"
and none of these things will go with me.
And so the thought is sobering to me
that my purpose, my life's passion can never be
wood, hay and stubble . . . to gain and to keep
because if it does . . .
than it's become my god . . .
and my heaven . . .
oh so brief . . . is here and now.
AND THE TWO SHALL BECOME ONE FLESH . . .
Wife, pay attention to your husband
and continually keep him covered in your prayers;
watch always that the Lord remains his passion
above all his earthly interests and affairs.
And if you see his passion begins waning,
hit your knees, fast and pray and intercede
because if the Lord decides he needs a spanking,
more than likely you will also feel the sting!
THE HEART OF THE COUNTRY
The recent election
is truly a reflection
of the spiritual condition of this nation.
The arrogance of conversation
spewing forth from this population
has been verdict enough for damnation.
Words, words, words
flowing forth to elicit support,
tickle the ears of the hearers
and betray the condition of our hearts.
We want what we want
and our votes tell the tale
of this country’s desire for the hour,
but the ones we've elected
were actually selected
by the One who is truly in power.
Put in position for His purposes
to be used according to His plan:
wicked men and women to govern
a stiff-necked and wicked land.
He sees it all . . .
He knows full well
the motives behind our votes:
the heart of this country is godless.
We will reap what we have sown.
NEW YORK (Nov. 9) AP - "From the country's heartland, voters sent strong messages that altered America's culture wars and dismayed the religious right - defending abortion rights in South Dakota, endorsing stem cell research in Missouri, and, in a national first, rejecting a same-sex marriage ban in Arizona."
"I believe in a woman's right to choose. I would veto any attempt to outlaw a woman's right to choose if Roe v. Wade were overturned." (Ted Strickland Quote, "Open Mike," Cleveland.com 3/3/06)
"This is an evolving situation," said Strickland, who believes it is only a matter of time before gay marriage is widely recognized. "I absolutely believe that adults should be able to enter into legal relationships which give them the legal rights and privileges that are usually associated with the marriage relationship," he said. (Paul M. Krawzak, Copley News Service, 7/14/04)
"No, I don't think America was founded as a Christian nation." (Ted Strickland Quote, The Columbus Dispatch, "Church and Statehouse", 7/23/06)
Surely NOT?
Me and mine,
me and mine . . .
if an action would cause me discomfort
then surely it can't be Divine.
If it's distasteful . . .
if it's demeaning . . .
if it hurts just a little bit . . .
even though another would benefit . . .
God wouldn't ask me to do it . . .
would He?
We who are strong [in our convictions and of robust faith] ought to bear with the failings and the frailties of the weak and not to please ourselves. Let each one of us make it a practice to please his neighbor for his good and for his true welfare, to edify him [to strengthen him and build him up spiritually]. For Christ did not please Himself [gave no thought to His own interests]; but, as it is written, "The reproaches and abuses of those who reproached and abused you fell on Me." (Romans 15:1-3 AMP)
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:13)
WHO’S THE BETTER MAN?
Lord, I want to be a help,
not a hindrance;
a blessing at all times,
never a curse;
to speak forth
words of life
even when
I’m faced with strife;
to be the better man
since the Better Man
lives in me.
WHERE ARE THE ONES?
Where are the ones who once worshipped Me
in Spirit and in Truth?
Gathered together in one accord;
not long ago,
I consumed you.
All your days were devoted to Me;
I took priority
over everything else.
But when expectations were not met
according to your timing and your plan,
the enemy came in
and there were casualties.
Callings, unfulfilled;
the devourer, seeking to kill,
has been successful.
Family relationships - utterly shattered,
close-knit friendships - bruised and battered,
to bring isolation and pain,
allowing further penetration
by an enemy set on destruction,
and what once brought satisfaction
is no longer Me.
A calendar of meaningless events,
extravagant purchases, ungodly friends,
was not part of the Plan
I had for you . . .
and will never fill that place
reserved for Me.
DESERT REMEDY
Why does it seem
there are so many times
I’m found in the desert place
where I severely thirst,
and become dry as the dust . . .
while the remedy
is as close as my face?
My Oasis in the desert . . .
a remedy for the strength to climb out
from that place of death
into Life once again . . .
is to bow down,
to bow down
and worship You.
I must
worship you to live;
because
when I worship You,
You give
living water to my soul.
And it really is my choice
to go to the desert place
and there forever remain
if I won’t.
I live to worship You, Lord.
I live to worship You.
I worship You to live.
THE MISSED MESSAGE
This message is for you.
You’ll know who you are;
the minute you hear it,
it will speak to your heart.
You may choose to consider it
some other day,
but the message is for now;
tomorrow will be too late.
“Ring, ring”, the phone rings,
but there’s nobody home;
the answering machine plays
“I can’t come to the phone.
I’ll call you back later.
Leave a message at the tone.”
And so the message begins . . .
“Honey, this is your father
and I wanted you to know
your mother’s in the hospital;
she’s had a massive stroke.
The doctors are telling me
this isn’t a joke.
She hasn’t much longer to live.”
Hours later you come home,
see the answering machine blinking.
In and out . . . in a rush,
there’s no time to be listening -
there are too many other things
that you’re wanting to do.
You’ll listen a little later
when it’s convenient for you.
“Ring, ring”, the phone rings,
another message is left . . .
“It’s me, son . . . your dad . . .
and your mom . . .
son . . .
she’s . . . dead.
She tried to hold on.
She so wanted to see you.
Where are you?
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