Daily there are new hits.
The death toll rising and no place to sit,
at the table of commerce there is hunger and doubt.
Some will be let in but so many left out.
So a new reality is here.
In whom will I trust and whom will I fear?
Will people be kind and help s to the bleeding?
My country is dying and my soul is grieving.
Decency and kindness are being crucified!
No one tells the truth, the media is all lies!
My soul is crying in the long dark night!
Deliver us oh God with your Holy light!
Never let it be said of this patriot here,
that she ever gave up her country so dear!
Let her be remembered as a woman who prayed,
“In God we trust until the end of days!”
Photo by Louis
I listen to the sound of my boots on the ground.
I walk these dry roads, it is just me.
Nothing but my footsteps makes a single sound,
but I know up ahead there is a stream.
A stream in the desert of loneliness.
A stream that flows for all mankind.
A stream where all people can be washed clean.
A stream flowing with the Water of life.
Each one will be like a shelter from the wind and a refuge from the storm, like streams of water in the desert… Isaiah 32:2
Photo by Zukiman Mohamad
He smiled with no malice when I said, “I don’t trust you but I’ll try you rather than stay the way I am.”
“Well, at least your honest,” he replied adding, ” I can work with that. “
So, this man had a sense of humor and his eyes danced like chocolate stars.
His face was not handsome and his hands looked rough and scarred.
There was a warmth and strength in his voice that I’d never heard before.
A sound of gentle peace fell before me like a tide pool near the shore.
We must have walked for hours but I was not tired or worn.
He told me every single thing I had ever done before.
I cannot express with words the happening.
A wonder of transformation began to form.
I was then and then I was new and I trust Him forevermore.
Photo by Pixabay
In a trillion star galaxy.
The One who made it knows my name.
I stopped making promises I cannot keep.
I lay my life Lord at your feet.
I feel you made all of creation just for me.
When I was blind you let me see.
On the miraculous day I believed.
You made me your daughter, and call me, “friend.”
Photo by Ruvim
The sea grass sways like a waltz that makes a pathway to the dunes.
Her body casts a shadow beneath a snow white moon.
The warm breeze smells like a salty seaweed lullaby.
The tall sea oats whisper in tempo with their peaceful sighs.
She follows the resounding song that leads her to the shore
and wonders how the ocean seems to know that she has been here before.
She is welcomed to the water and the sand soothes her aching feet
and she marvels at the miracle where sky and ocean meet.
She kneels in the warmth of this waltz and says a grateful prayer
then she is dancing once more to the Song of The Holy Ones’s love and care.
Photo by Ray Bilcliff
As I sit by the ocean and hear it’s deeply powerful roar.
The waves seem so angry and crash on the shore.
Brother against brother like I have not seen before.
My heart cries at the hatred, it is a Civil War.
Everyone is talking but it is just a screaming noise.
Oh God show us mercy for all we’ve destroyed.
Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. 1John4:8
John 3:16. For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.
The salty air lay thick upon my skin.
Laughter in the village sings so sweetly.
Never does a hard day meet me here,
when I walk by the sea in God’s keeping.
This beach helps me see outside of my self,
and find The One who is the Hope of all things.
Exposed and authentic the waves hit my feet,
with no fear of the dance tomorrow will surely bring.
I will sing in this His cathedral
of sky and sand and sea.
I praise The Holy One who cannot be undone
and give thanks as He walks here with me.
Photo by Ir Solyanaya
There were many who could accuse her, she knew it was the law.
The very men who used her now want to see her stoned.
She remembers how it started, so hungry and alone.
She rode the tide of shame and commerce, with nowhere else to go.
She heard about the Holy man healing all the sick.
They said he spoke of God’s love for all, even those who have no hope.
So now she stood before Him and prepared herself to die.
He then wrote something in the dirt and gazed up into her eyes
And said, “no man here can accuse you and neither do I.”
Oh the washing of her soul a deluge fell that holy day,
and she followed Him from that time on, He is The Truth, The Life, The Way!
Photo by Emre Kuzu
Time is not a matter here
in the midnight hour
I sing to you my love song
though it be worn and tattered
I fell the deep wells of danger
of both your Joy and Light
To such will be the way of it
beneath the looming night
Come endure the midnight hour
where language has no name
Yet Hope and Hardship mingle
with your Faithfulness and Grace
Photo by Kristina Paukshtite
If I die tomorrow my sweet grandbabies won’t remember
how I held and rocked and loved them with all I’ve got.
They will not know I sang them songs made up just for them,
or how I prayed everyday of my life
that they will follow the call of God.
I hold you now with such unfailing love though
I will not be here to keep every grief at bay
I hope you’ll feel these arms holding you now
and know I am yours Forever and a day.