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Thank God for Rain
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

Thank God for Rain

From all lifeís storms we seek the shade

We shrink away from pain

While constant sun, are deserts made

Thank God for precious rain

Without His rain to make it grow

Our land could yield no crop

Yet still we shun the storms below

And seek the mountaintop

Up there we laugh, we dance with smiles

In joy we sing our song

Yet in the deep amongst lifeís trials

We donít feel quite as strong

But this is where true strength is found

When man feels weak and low

Itís there we tread on holy ground

Itís there in Christ we grow

If Godly joy, is strength to all

Is weakness; then a sin?

Does sorrow bring about oneís fall?

Does Satanís reign begin?

Too many see in sadness, shame

When someoneís life seems down

Yet donít be quick in Jesusí name

To judge anotherís frown

Help others climb Godís holy hill

His love to reap and share

Not only is it Heavenís will

But shows how much we care

Down valleys deep, up mountains high

Better we understand

It may be you, my friend or I

Who next may need a handÖ..

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Submitted: Saturday, November 3, 2012

Last Updated: Saturday, November 3, 2012

About the Poet
I never wrote a word of poetry in my life. Till the day Jesus took my hand and touched my soul.....I invite your response. However most poems are not about me! Very few are. But the feed-back good, bad or indifferent is always desired. Not meant to offend, but I write about many things in many a guise. Of life, death, lost, found, saved, backsliders, new comers, repenting souls, doubting hearts, heathens, Christians, fire, water, Satan's daughter, wallowing in sin, saved, made sound walking in Light, graceful righteous. Suffering, ecstatic, bored, excited, sad, delighted, Sick, well, lame, able, living, dying, etc. etc. etc. Writing about anything, everything and everyone as the spirit leads. All meant to reveal, waken, revive, encourage, shame, help. Gladden, pick up, exalt, portrait, liberate. Again over 99% of my work is not about me. Although at times I write as though I were or am. Speaking e.g. in the first person. This is quite common even in the bible itself. Prophets speak of themselves, then God speaks, again the prophet, then God......Quite often it's difficult to distinguish whom it is that at any given time is speaking or narrating.

Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

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