My Words

It was one of those days. I sat on my bed, wanting to write something, anything. Words had been elusive for weeks, and I felt as though my ability to write any poetry was fast escaping me. So I wrote what came to mind; what I was feeling, "The words used to flow." And it poured out from there:

My Words

The words used to flow
My thoughts would connect;
Pen to the paper--
Ways to pause and reflect.

But lately it’s not there,
Just broken, jumbled chains
Missing all the links
That make up sweet refrains.

My praise can seem so futile,
My thoughts all scattering.
And yet my voice You’ll raise again,
And through my pain I’ll sing.

And perhaps the pieces will come
To fit the puzzle again;
And the links will join as I raise my hands
To praise You in the rain.

It’s in this storm I find my voice
And raise it only for You;
Above the blustery billows’ roll
My heart is forever true.

Jesus, in the darkness of pain
I will cry out, and be heard;
For in Your heart of love unmeasured
You’re storing every word.

And now, overcoming futility,
I’ll keep clinging to Your hand
To rise again above it all
And on Your rock I’ll stand.

If

If life were a daydream
I'd dream of you.
If life were a song,
I'd be singing of you, too.

If life was a dance,
you'd be the one I'd choose,
And if I ever must make a decision,
You'll be the only one I use.

I love you forever and always,
My heart in your hands shall lie.
Parting shall n'er be an option,
for love is the strongest tie.

What did Jesus think?

I wonder...What Jesus thought as He triumphantly entered Jerusalem. Peacefully astride a donkey, throngs joyfully calling "Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the Name of the Lord!" Yet in the background, the scowls of those who did not love Him. Surely, He, the Seer of all things, could see their hearts. Could penetrate that joyful throng to see those shadowed, evil stares. Knowing that He would that day be lovingly welcomed, His way softly padded by branches, His cheeks caressed by the winds stirred as the people waved Him in, and then a short time later He would die, their own words condemning Him. "Crucify, crucify!" His heart must have been breaking.

I wonder...What Jesus thought at that last supper. Sharing with disciples who love Him. Who worship Him with their souls. Then Judas, the Betrayer. What thoughts would come here? Compassion? Love? For this man? Ah, but yes. For even into the hands of the Betrayer was the cup passed. "This is my body...this is my blood..."Then that man turned in the One who had led him, had taught him.Even then, remorse. Isn't that how it happens? We regret once it's too late?

I wonder...What Jesus thought as He hung on the cross. Spittle and blood on his cheeks, the burning and stinging of His beard pulled out. His body opened from the whip laid to his flesh. The thorns, pounded into His skull. Feeling the sins of the world upon Him. Blackness, knowing Your own Father is no longer with You. Feeling Judas' death as His own. Gasping for air. The cries of babes unborn or murdered. The weeping of the desolate woman. The despair of the vagabond. The living death of the leper. The blindness of those He had healed. The anger of the man who has failed. Loving them, even as He died.

Spikes through His hands and feet. Those same hands that John held as he baptized his Lord. "This is my Beloved Son, in Whom I AM well pleased..."

I wonder...What Jesus thought as He went back to His Father, knowing He had completed all.What Jesus thought when He was sent back. Leaving the Father a second time, yet not the final time. Defeating death, only to leave the world to the great Destroyer. Having to wait, knowing all He has suffered, and yet how many do not accept it. Everything He endured, and yet it is taken as myth.

I wonder...What Jesus thought as he looked upon Mary in the garden. Daughter of Grace, of Redemption. Peter, the one who came out on the waves, who would take the Gospel. Thomas, the doubter, then the Believer. Knowing all that would happen after He returned Home.

God here on earth.

God in heaven.

Lived, Died, Rose.

This is Easter.

Innocence and Remembrance

I've run through the rain,
danced in the sunshine,
climbed up so many trees,
and when I hurt said, "I'm fine!"

I've playing in the mud puddles,
fallen off my bike,
skinned up my hands and knees,
and mowed more than I'd like.

I've played in the sandbox,
Swung as high as the sky,
rolled in the morning dew,
and wished I could fly.

I've played pretend and dress-up,
cried myself to sleep,
hurt someone who loved me,
and wanted what I can not keep.

I've prayed and sung and worshipped,
been loved more than I'll ever know,
and jumped off of a mountain
created from the snow.

I've grown and lived and loved,
I've hated, feared, and cried,
and I've found out how I have
a vicious, raging pride.

I'm thinking of the past,
and entering the future.
I'm knowing I'll only last
if my foundation is secure.

And so I will say thank you
to my Best, most Awesome friend,
the Jesus who always loves me,
and will love me past the end.

And until the end

I'll dance in the rain,
sing in the night,
and smile through my pain.

THE GREATEST WAR

Hope sounds the battle cry:
It's time to chase away the fears
of this sinner who has turned one-eighty,
so come now, warriors, and raise your spears!

Love tears down the fortress
of Hate, Lust, and Pride,
throwing them into the fire
that's warming the soul inside.

Faith crushes the timbers
supporting Fear's strong towers
and plants a watered garden
full of fountains, warm breezes and flowers.

Kindness spreads the welcome mat,
after kicking Hatred aside,
and strengthens the heart for service
to others, instead of Pride.

Honor captures Lewdness,
and slashes the demon in two
as Patience sooths the troubled mind
and runs Worry through.

And in this endless, eternal fight,
we see the greatest fusion:
where Man meets his God in sweet surrender
in the most beautiful conclusion.

SHE

She won't slow down,
she can't stop.
She's wrapped up in her pain,
running until she's ready to drop.

She's all alone,
in her silent suffering.
She's cast away
with the ill and dying.

We look at her
and see a disease,
thinking our ignorance
is a way to please.

Where did we lose

our innocence?
We take the far side of the road,
ignoring this conscience.

Why are they condemned to die
alone, forsaken, in the back way?
Why do we live in our mirage
ignoring what happens in a real day?

We can't wait for someone else
to come and be the hero,
when we have so much to give.
So let's disable our pride and go.