Welcome to my blog. I'm afraid it won't be updated too frequently, as I only write when moved to write. These are a group of my poems, as written through the often difficult trek of the past nine months (at present) of my life.
I hope they speak to you and somehow reach the chords of your life, and that God will bring you through as He without doubt is doing to me.

God bless you.
~Jane Johnson,
August 14th, 2010

Saturday, August 14, 2010


There is an emptiness deep in my heart,
The happiness I show is a fake.
Transistory joy is all that lies within -
Revival - oh, what will it take?

My sin looms darker, right over my head,
A burden that's ready to break.
For those who care and love me still -
The blackness could that violently shake.

I see the sin lying deep within,
I know not what to say.
I call out, and fall back to sin -
My tongue speaks; I do not pray.

A queen of purity - demonical laughter
Falls loudly on my ear.
Soldier of Christ, knight of His Truth -
He seems to disappear.

The blackness of guilt drives me from His face,
My soul is too weary for prayer.
I search and I try to overcome sin,
Loathsome, its presence still there.

There are areas of life I cannot surrender,
I'm afraid to lay them at His cross.
My life, my own, to serve Him as I want...
I will continue to suffer this loss.

Why be afraid to trust the Refiner,
His Hands ever strong and so sure?
He has to put me in the burning fire
To bring me out perfect and pure.

Why not trust the Weaver Whos weaving goes on,
With the shuttle and thread of my life?
The colours are dark and the snip of the scissors
Can be the symbols of strife.

Why not trust the Helper, Who stands there beside
Waiting to take me in His arms?
The Hands that will help will hurt to cure -
He will break before He uses the balm.

I am afraid of the pain and the hurt,
The fire, the darkness, the wounds;
So afraid of the injuries; I will pursue
My course, though my heart it entombs.

Is dying to self more painful a death
Than the pain I've already gone through?
How can I tell? If I surrender now,
There is pain - certain and true.

And so the emptiness lies on my heart,
The pressure, the pain carry on.
Until I surrender my all to the Cross -
This trouble has only begun.

August 14th, 2010

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