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Thanks for Stopping
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


† †Thanks for stopping

ďItís good of you to stop for me

Amidst this dreadful storm

Iím soaked all through as you can see

But your carís nice and warm

My friend, Iím truly in your debt

The cold was like a knife

For hours Iíve suffered cold and wet

I think youíve saved my life

It may to you sound rather odd

But out there in the rain

I raised my eyes and prayed to God

Who heard me once again

Though wet and frozen to the core

I heard Christ Jesus say

ďTo you, Iíll send an open door

To help you on your wayĒ

I saw you coming from afar

God gave me this decree

ďThe door for you will be a car

Wherein youíll speak of meĒ

Godís holy Word is my command

I heard and will obey

You stopped for me as Jesus planned

Now hear these words I say

God could have made me warm again

He could have stopped the pour

He could have called ten thousand men

A million even more

Instead my friend Heís chosen you!

God chose to set you free

Believe that Christ, Godís Son is true

Believe my friend and seeĒ.....


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Submitted: Monday, February 27, 2012

Last Updated: Monday, February 27, 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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