{"id":15609,"date":"2025-02-09T15:44:16","date_gmt":"2025-02-09T20:44:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.halmoran.com\/?page_id=15609"},"modified":"2025-07-06T14:31:15","modified_gmt":"2025-07-06T19:31:15","slug":"psalms-and-laments-2","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.halmoran.com\/?page_id=15609","title":{"rendered":"Psalms and Laments 2"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

This is page 2 of Psalms and Laments. Page one is is located here.<\/a> Click here for page 3.<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Since retiring a few years ago I’ve had the opportunity to do… well… nothing if I don’t want to. During those “nothing” times I do a lot of thinking and reflecting. Which sometimes leads to random thoughts that ultimately find their way to paper. And, it happens very quickly! If not, it’s gone!

Now to be sure, I do not consider myself a poet – not by a long shot! I simply look for a creative way to express a thought or a personal experience I’ve had, that in turn may encourage someone else.

I usually include a photograph. Sometimes the visual aids in telling the story, other times, oh, just because. So, if you’d like like, then read on. And, if you want to share with others – of course!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Open Hearts – Closed Doors<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

We say our hearts are open,
But have we really closed the door,
We say we care for widows\/orphans,
But does “religion” matter all the more?

We say our arms are here to reach,
But are they stretched enough,
We speak of love, of grace, of peace,
But walls of pride keep going up.

We claim to serve the poor in need,
But only when we have the time,
We preach of justice, hope – indeed,
But watch them wither on the vine.

We sing of faith that moves a mount,
But fear to step beyond our gate,
We speak of God, an endless fount,
Yet measure love and seal our fate.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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Empty Hands Fix Broken Doors<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Empty hands fix broken doors,
But some folks say, “It’s not my chore,”
So they shout, “Let others try!”
And I can’t help but wonder why.

The hinges creak and often groan,
Yet still they stand there, all alone.
I’ll take a breath, my hands unsure,
Then something in me finds the cure.

When others say I should refrain,
I fix what’s broken in the rain,
For in the cracks and worn-out frames,
I find new strength in all the pain.

Empty hands may seem so weak,
But there’s a power in what we seek.
To mend, to heal, to shine a light,
Even when no one’s in sight.

So when others doubt what you might do,
Just fix the door and walk on through.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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The Word has never failed me<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The Word has never failed me,
Though I often miss the mark,
Right on time it hits the target,
Leading me on where to start.<\/em>

The Word resides within me,
New chapters every day,
Lighting up a path to follow,
Guiding me along the way.

The Word is old yet new again,
Reviving souls from death,
It reaches deep within the heart,
Life springs with every breath.

The Word is strong, a steady force,
It whispers when I\u2019m lost,
A voice that echoes in the quiet,
Reminding me of what it cost.

The Word can heal the broken,
And soothe the troubled mind,
It offers peace within the soul,
And leaves no fear behind.

The Word is light and my salvation,
It leads me through the night,
With every step I tread its path,
And know His way is right.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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Some things are taken to the grave<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Some things are taken to the grave,
And some are left behind,
Doubt and fear are two of which,
I’ve filtered from my mind.

Some things are buried deep within,
Where time can\u2019t fade away,
Yet wisdom blooms in solitude,
And guides me through each day.

The past may whisper softly,
But its hold is growing weak,
For in the light of brighter paths,
His strength is what I seek.

I carry only what grace can hold,
And let the rest decay,
For peace is found in letting go,
While memories fade away.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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If I could be you…<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

If I could be you for just one day,
What would I do, what would I say?
Could I walk in your shoes, could I feel the weight,
See the world through your eyes – could I relate?

I’d hopefully listen to your every thought,
Discover the battles you\u2019ve bravely fought,
I\u2019d laugh with your joy, share in your tears,
Live through your struggles, face all of your fears.

Could I feel the rhythm of your beating heart,
Dream the dreams that set you apart,
To look upon wonder at unplanned events,
Or fashion the child in the way you were bent?

Could I really be you for just one day,
The answer isn’t mine to choose,
But I know there is One who is greater than me,
He has already walked in your shoes.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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I know<\/h2>\n\n\n
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I Remember<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

It’s 4:30am. I’m sitting at my desk with a prefilled communion cup. (I usually bring one home and partake sometime later.) Then I remember the words of Jesus, “Do this in remembrance of me.”
Then I offered up these words…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I remember a body broken,
I remember a blood stained cross,
I remember graves were opened,
I remember a mother’s loss.

I remember disciples scattered,
I remember one betrayed,
I remember the friend who stood there,
I remember He chose to stay.

I remember, “It is finished!”
I remember His body laid,
I remember the grave stone opened,
I remember the price He paid.

Now I join with heaven’s chorus,
Now I lift my voice and sing,
Now I live a life victorious,
Now I serve a risen King!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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Love – and don’t hate<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

This morning I was contacted by an NGO ministry in South Africa asking for butterfly images to decorate a safe-house for girls rescued out of sex trafficking. My immediate response was a broken heart that there even is such a need, and secondly, “whatever I have is yours.” www.freetofly.org.za<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Love – and don’t hate,
Heal – and don’t hurt,
Kindness is a holy work.

Words are like waters,
They flow without borders,
That feed the seeds that are spoken.

Let empathy guide us,
Let shadows remind us,
There’s a world full of people who are broken.

So give without measure,
From the abundance of treasure,
Because “faith without works is dead.”<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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It was…<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

My cruel intent, a heavy stone,
I am the one for whom He died.
The weight of sin, a crushing load,
My guilt, my burden, I could not hide.

My hands, they wove a crown of thorns,
Each piercing point, a world of scorn.
“Crucify! Crucify!” the mob’s harsh cry,
And I, I turned my face aside.

My wicked hand, a cruel swing,
The spit and slaps, a brutal sting.
Insults hurled, “Look at him now!”
For me, He suffered, He bled, He bowed.

Then it flowed, His crimson blood,
For me, His life, the battle’s won.
Redeemed, forgiven, washed anew,
I’m saved by grace, I know that’s true.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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Birds of a feather<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Birds of a feather mock together,
But unkind words won’t make us better,
They sting and wound the heart and mind,
Leaving only bitter scars behind.

Instead, let kindness be our guide,
A gentle touch, a soothing tide.
For empathy is a precious art,
It mends together broken hearts.

So let our words be soft and kind,
And let compassion fill our mind,
For in the end, it’s love that binds,
With songs of peace beneath the skies.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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Stop the bus<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Sometimes you have to stop the bus,
And take a break from the rest of us,
To find a moment just for you,
To breathe, to think, to start anew.

The world will rush, the hours fill,
But peace is found when you just stand still.
In the quiet, listen to your heart’s soft beat,
A secret place where you and God meet.

So park the wheels, let the noise fade,
And in the silence, let dreams be made.
Sometimes you need that pause, that hush,
Then reconnect, to the rest of us.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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When doubts creep<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Scoffers will often remind you,
Of your failures in the past,
But time, and time, and time again,
God will always take you back.

When the world casts shadows deep,
And doubt begins to creep,
He’ll lift you up, restore your soul,
And heal the wounds you keep.

For grace, a river flowing wide,
Washes over every fault and stride.
Though voices whisper, sharp and cold,
His love’s a story to be told.

So let their mocking words just fade,
A fleeting echo, poorly made.
For ‘neath His wings, you’ll find your rest,
His peace to get you through the stress.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n

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Get off the bench<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Expect the unexpected,
Your life will be affected,
By lots of curve balls thrown your way.

The path you thought you’d walk with ease,
May twist and bend with shifting breeze,
But through each trial, through every test,
You’ll find new strength, He’ll give you rest.

And when the world begins to sway,
Just hold your ground, don\u2019t run away,
For in the end, you\u2019ll understand,
Your journey’s shaped by God’s own hand.

Now off the bench and on the plate,
Your fans are cheering, you’ll do just great,
So take your swings and go for the wall,
When the game is over, you’ll be standing tall.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This is page 2 of Psalms and Laments. Page one is is located here. Click here for page 3. Since retiring a few years ago I’ve had the opportunity to do… well… nothing if I don’t want to. During those “nothing” times I do a lot of thinking and reflecting. Which sometimes leads to random
+ Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":15637,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-15609","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nPsalms and Laments 2 - Hal Moran - a wandering photographer<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"We say our hearts are open, But have we really closed the door, We say we care for widows\/orphans, But does "religion" matter all the more?\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.halmoran.com\/?page_id=15609\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Psalms and Laments 2 - Hal Moran - a wandering photographer\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"We say our hearts are open, But have we really closed the door, We say we care for widows\/orphans, But does "religion" matter all the more?\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/www.halmoran.com\/?page_id=15609\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Hal Moran - 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