The weakest part of my life can become the strongest part of my faith.

As we have progressed through this exercise of motivation, and in fact this entire excursion into poetry, it has become apparent that the major lot of us are very spiritual people. And in spiritual, I don’t necessarily mean highly religious, but that does enter into it at times. We believe this spirit comes from a Higher Power that tells us everything is possible if we have faith. Faith is more than merely believing. Faith is a devotion and trust even when we do not understand what God has in store for us. Man says … Show me and I will trust you. But His response is … Trust me and I will show you.

So this should be the best last word of our journey into motivation. How does your faith or your faith in something, motivate you? Write that FAITH poem.


My faith is not unshakable, nor grand.
But God is not reduced by human flaws.
For when my need is great and faith is dim,
His unrestricted love renews my hope.

While apprehension plots to halt my steps,
His ever-present guidance leads me on.
See, any strength you see in me is His.
Without His faith to feed on, I am numb.

Before I even recognized my need,
He sacrificed His Son to pay my debt.
It’s not my faith that led me to my Lord,
But Jesus’ love that led me to my faith.

It’s not my faith that led me to my Lord,
But Jesus’ love that led me to my faith.

Trust in Jehovah, and do good; Dwell in the land, and feed on his faithfulness. ~ Psalm 37:3

 © 2016, Marie Elena Good

Truth-be-told, I wrote this in 2016.  But it is my statement of faith, along with this one that I wrote in 2010.


One heart was freed
One soul was saved
One life unchained
One sentence waived
One died for me
One took my place
One sacrifice
One act of grace
One Holy God
One Trinity
One Perfect Lamb
One thankful me.

 © 2010, Marie Elena Good

I’m sorry to have not written a new one for this prompt yet.  It has been one busy week.



Seeing is believing,
and yet looks can be deceiving.
You can have your questions,
but it is laid out there for you to accept.
Except, you’re from Missouri
and you’re in a hurry to be shown.
You can demand proof and appear
aloof and arrogant. Some believe
although they have not seen.
This is a leap of faith.
You can have your doubts,
but without faith, you have nothing.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2019

This poem was repeated from Robert Lee Brewer’s prompt “Leap of Faith” at Poetic Asides

41 thoughts on “PROMPT #245 – MOTIVATION: FAITH

  1. Two very powerful statements, Marie. I esp like One. It is foundational.
    Walt, I am very drawn to yours because I feel like I was adopted out of Missouri. My doubts came late in life and I grapple with them but have decided faith is taking Jesus on faith. I’m looking forward to this prompt but it will take some honest mulling and I’m not as quick as I use to be, hehheh.

  2. Amen to what Georgeplace said!

    Here’s a short o ne to start with:

    Matthew 24:35

    If my words have pow’r
    It’s because of who He is
    Never-disappearing Word

  3. Faith spurs conviction of what is not seen
    Improves my vision till my sight is clear
    I’m confident in those things I hold dear
    It’s faith gives substance to my wildest dreams
    My poems are based on real things if unseen
    It’s only in my skills that I find doubt
    Can my mere words shout perfect truth aloud?
    I rest, for from God’s strength my muse has gleaned
    Through faith, I am assured my work has worth
    Because he plants the seeds within my heart
    Although at times I struggle to give birth
    By faith, my stumbling words find wings, not art
    My word choice matters, but it’s not first
    In all of life faith plays a major part

  4. A Garden Faith – a Tricube

    On my knees
    In the dirt
    I find hope

    Buried bulbs
    Burst with life
    Without fail

    Here on Earth
    Garden faith

  5. Armor for the Day
    By David De Jong
    Sunday, April 28, 2019

    Parsing lives stranded in time
    Wasting moments to save a dime
    Forsaking courage for mere vanity
    Selfless shame replacing dignity

    Broken dreams and happenstance
    One world mourns as the other’s dance
    Not for misery or relished pain
    But cleansing relief, blessing’s rain

    Opinions slanted as factual news
    Lies presented as victim’s trues
    Twisted words match captioned memes
    Hate mongers all is what it seems

    What to believe, who to trust
    Where to run, where to bust
    When does woe give in to hope
    Where does a spirit learn to cope

    On a tattered brow and whip stripped back
    A Redeemer born in a farmer’s shack
    His Father, who planted the very tree
    Whose wood was drawn for you and me

    He knows the day and works His plan
    Seeding an outcome none can span
    His ways presented as mystery
    Yet work for good toward eternity

    I’ve seen the redeemed of broken souls
    I’ve measured the dark of deepest holes
    I’ve treasured the moments of simplest times
    I’ve heard a symphony from storm strewn chimes

    Realized Peace with pockets empty, holey shoes
    Experienced Grace while covered in unholy dues
    Found Joy amid sorrow of lonely seas
    Swept off my feet, to land on my knees

    I trust The One who knows and loves me
    Even though I hung Him on a tree
    I believe in His purpose, function of time
    Even when it doesn’t curtail to mine

    My Rescuer, My Savior, My Lord
    My Shield, My Armor, Unbreakable Sword
    My Hope, Assurance, Soul’s Reward
    My All in All, My Redeemer, My Lord


    Many, many years ago,
    when I was twenty-three,
    I knew an older man, who spoke
    defining words to me.

    My friend, the bishop, sang his Mass
    with candles gleaming low;
    in robes of red or green or gold,
    he was a holy show

    and yet, despite the glittering gloss
    that captivates the eyes,
    the man inside knew how to laugh,
    and so the man was wise.

    I asked him, once, to share with me
    the essence of his faith.
    He chuckled merrily and said,
    “Mostly, it’s a wraith.”

    He then went on to tell me this:
    “The Church is like a salad.
    You toss a slew of chants and smoke
    together with a ballad;

    you blend the Bible, then you add
    the proper of the saints
    and serve them to the people,
    to ameliorate complaints.”

    I laughed at that. He laughed with me,
    but then his grin declined,
    and thereupon he spoke the words
    that ever guide my mind:

    “Remember me when I am gone,
    and think on this, my blessing:
    faith is doubt; doubt is faith;
    all the rest is dressing.”

  7. The Good News One More Time

    If you haven’t yet heard the Good News
    ‘Bout the Way, the Truth, and the Life
    And how that Good News cuts to the heart
    Like a God-sharpened surgical knife
    Then here is His story one more time
    A story of hope for a world so lost
    A story of perfection and sacrifice
    And how His Son paid the ultimate cost
    On the cross
    Two thousand years ago
    He paid the cost
    To save the lost
    He died for you
    Because He loves you
    And now He waits for you
    To simply believe on Him

    To me those words are so familiar
    But to the lost they’re filled with hope
    And all one has to do is realize
    That His story is more than just that
    It’s been proven that Jesus existed
    And proven He was crucified
    And there’s a mysteriously empty tomb
    With no body of Christ found inside
    You see, He arose on the third day
    And was seen by hundreds after that
    Then He ascended His way back to Heaven
    And to me, I believe those are facts
    But a measure of faith may be needed
    To fill in the “gaps” that exist
    I have that faith without reservation
    So with that I must insist
    Believe He is real
    Believe He walked this earth
    Believe He was perfect
    Believe He was crucified
    Believe He rose from the grave
    Believe He is alive
    Believe He is the Way
    Believe He is the Truth
    Believe He is the Life

    Just believe

  8. From the prompt: “The weakest part of my life can become the strongest part of my faith.”

    Tell A Story

    Track marks tell a story
    she wishes they didn’t tell
    about a girl who faltered
    as to smack she fell
    when her heart was bleeding,
    bruised by evil men

    His scars tell a story
    she grieves that they tell
    about the Innocent who died
    as to evil men he fell
    when His heart stopped beating,
    thrashed and hung upon a cross.

    His grave tells a story
    she rejoices that it tells
    about a dead Man raised
    to overcome her hell
    when His tomb was empty,
    defeated death and evil men.

    Her life tells a story
    she humbly does share
    about a drug addict rescued
    by the King’s gentle care
    when He silenced accusations,
    made her a new creation.

    Her scars tell a story
    she’s no longer shamed to tell
    Bout a Savior who renamed her
    made her sick heart well,
    when he freed from heroin’s call,
    healed harm done by evil men.

  9. Unseen

    What unseen is truly known?
    What unfelt is sensed?
    Is there, friend, another place,
    a pasture green, unfenced,
    a golden sky beyond the blue,
    and could I be convinced…

    that somehow, Someone died for me,
    so I could meet Him there?
    Belief cannot be reasoned,
    and certain faith is rare–
    but oh, His whispers to my heart
    indeed have taught me prayer.

    And what is any plea, but faith
    that Someone hears who cares?

    © Damon Dean, 2019

  10. It Takes Faith

    It takes faith to face the blank page and write
    And trust that bits of impressions and thought
    Will take shape and some substance will be caught
    To go against doubt when nothing’s in sight
    To feel earthbound but let musings take flight
    Knowing that somehow it will come out right
    It takes faith.

    It’s true that process itself can bring light
    But I’ve learned that a writer can be taught
    By the Great One above who knows a lot
    It is He who causes words to ignite
    It takes faith.

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