The Day After
By George Thurlow
In the stillness of Monday morning
Only crickets now are heard.
The church sits quiet and empty
After worship, praise and Word.
But still I hear the preaching,
Those mighty words of faith.
The voices raised in worship
Still echo in this place.
Oh the miracles that were wrought here
Only yesterday,
And the way the Spirit ministered
Will be felt for days and days.
The love of God's own people
Shown through warm embrace
Or a simple smile or handshake
And a radiant face.
What a glorious taste of heaven
All being one in You.
The "City" is drawing closer;
I'm getting a clearer, crisper view.
Even now I sense Your Presence;
It permeates this place.
So I'll take my station
Commune and seek Your face.
I'll pray the seeds sown Sunday
The enemy will not steal,
But will yield a bountiful harvest
That in time will be revealed.
A poem written early one Monday morning down at church as I was sprawled out in front of the altar spending time with the Lord in fellowship and prayer. It was a very peaceful September morning, and all I could hear were the sound of crickets outside. The services Sunday morning and evening were replaying in my mind as I reflected on what the Lord had done in this place the day before.
Photos of Faith Lighthouse Assembly of God
Old Orchard Beach, Maine
