The selfish life says ME
The selfless life says FREE
Monday, June 7, 2010
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Boat Memories
Banging in through the door snowy and cold; tearing off snow crusted boots and mittens; I would run into the living room. The smooth maple rocker was occupied with my thin gray haired Nana Pearl formerly known as Daisy Hire. She gathered me up on her lap and into her arms. The only part I didn’t like was when she took my red frosty hands and put them into her shirt under her arms to warm them. Weird I thought, but then she would begin the stories.
The painting was ensconced about the mantle and the rocker was angled so the painting was in full view. “See that port hole there? Behind that porthole is a tiny room with bunks like hammocks”. ……. And the stories would begin. ….
“You know there are rope ladders to get up. I could scramble up the ladders so fast but land lubbers couldn’t” - we laugh.
“When I wanted to swim, they would tie an old empty keg to my back and lower me over the side. An instant life preserver. A bit heavy but once in the water – we would float and roll. “
The story I remember the most was about the Island Boy. Its veracity is in question these 60 years later, but a great story that I never forgot.
Curled up on her lap she would say.” My father would travel all around the world in his ship. He would go to islands to bring things to them and to trade for things to bring to England. One time, they stopped at an island that was full of tribal people who hadn’t seen the big ships and the white men very much. They stayed on the island making friends and trading. They didn’t speak English so they had to use their hands and point and smile and act it out. The natives had big spears and shields and knives.
When it was time to go, they had made friends. The Chief brought his son to my father. Communicating with hands my father understood that the chief’s son was a gift. My father knew that not to accept the gift is an enormous insult and could cause them to use those spears on him. So he took the boy. I remember, (my Nana would say with intensity), the boy was scared. He was shown a place with a hammock and a straw mattress in that porthole. When we came in to get him for breakfast, he had taken the straw out of the mattress and piled it in the corner to sleep on. He was very sad. He talked but didn’t make sense to us. We tried playing with him but he was sad and lonely and stayed curled on his straw.
When he got to England, he did eventually learn English and became a lot happier but still wanted to go home.
Later when my father was traveling back to those islands, he took the boy back to his father and told the chief that the boy could now speak English and would be more helpful there on the island with him to trade with the other ships that were beginning to come to the island.
Now – it doesn’t really matter if the story is true or not. I was a Nana story. It was an adventure on the mysterious boat over the mantle. It gave my family a few minutes away from my incessant chatter as I sat curled up, warm and quiet.
The painting was ensconced about the mantle and the rocker was angled so the painting was in full view. “See that port hole there? Behind that porthole is a tiny room with bunks like hammocks”. ……. And the stories would begin. ….
“You know there are rope ladders to get up. I could scramble up the ladders so fast but land lubbers couldn’t” - we laugh.
“When I wanted to swim, they would tie an old empty keg to my back and lower me over the side. An instant life preserver. A bit heavy but once in the water – we would float and roll. “
The story I remember the most was about the Island Boy. Its veracity is in question these 60 years later, but a great story that I never forgot.
Curled up on her lap she would say.” My father would travel all around the world in his ship. He would go to islands to bring things to them and to trade for things to bring to England. One time, they stopped at an island that was full of tribal people who hadn’t seen the big ships and the white men very much. They stayed on the island making friends and trading. They didn’t speak English so they had to use their hands and point and smile and act it out. The natives had big spears and shields and knives.
When it was time to go, they had made friends. The Chief brought his son to my father. Communicating with hands my father understood that the chief’s son was a gift. My father knew that not to accept the gift is an enormous insult and could cause them to use those spears on him. So he took the boy. I remember, (my Nana would say with intensity), the boy was scared. He was shown a place with a hammock and a straw mattress in that porthole. When we came in to get him for breakfast, he had taken the straw out of the mattress and piled it in the corner to sleep on. He was very sad. He talked but didn’t make sense to us. We tried playing with him but he was sad and lonely and stayed curled on his straw.
When he got to England, he did eventually learn English and became a lot happier but still wanted to go home.
Later when my father was traveling back to those islands, he took the boy back to his father and told the chief that the boy could now speak English and would be more helpful there on the island with him to trade with the other ships that were beginning to come to the island.
Now – it doesn’t really matter if the story is true or not. I was a Nana story. It was an adventure on the mysterious boat over the mantle. It gave my family a few minutes away from my incessant chatter as I sat curled up, warm and quiet.
Dry Hope
The wind comes in the night rattling the open flaps of my tent. Is that rain? The long waiting dry hopes for rain. Crinkling, electric wind but no rain, moist winds teasing at the thirsty ground is picking any remaining moisture from the soil to tease another waiting ear.
Elusive Sleep
Elusive sleep
Want vs need
Wandering thoughts mingle with emotion
Disappointment fights with what is best.
God’s hand holding firm
Wiggling and squirming wanting to yield.
Wishing and hoping
Crying and praying
Enough
Where is truth?
Enough
Sleep is all there is
LaLa Kulala
Want vs need
Wandering thoughts mingle with emotion
Disappointment fights with what is best.
God’s hand holding firm
Wiggling and squirming wanting to yield.
Wishing and hoping
Crying and praying
Enough
Where is truth?
Enough
Sleep is all there is
LaLa Kulala
Emptiness
Lord,
I know most of this is simply the moment but there is a hole.
I am not aware of that hole until it gets filled for a moment.
Then it echoes through me. Empty.
The human emptiness.
You fill me, thoroughly satisfy my every need –
Fill me with peace
Complete the place that was forever restless.
But then –
Go away please and leave me alone.
Don’t make me see the empty place.
Don’t come and fill it for a moment and go away to leave it empty.
The emptiness is too hard to feel.
I know most of this is simply the moment but there is a hole.
I am not aware of that hole until it gets filled for a moment.
Then it echoes through me. Empty.
The human emptiness.
You fill me, thoroughly satisfy my every need –
Fill me with peace
Complete the place that was forever restless.
But then –
Go away please and leave me alone.
Don’t make me see the empty place.
Don’t come and fill it for a moment and go away to leave it empty.
The emptiness is too hard to feel.
I Felt It Coming
I felt it coming and knew it must.
Even wanted it in my heart.
But God is good and hedged me in
The strain still there
But God is good and hedged me in.
Is it possible to Simama Imara?
But God is good and hedged me in.
It is not possible for me alone.
Even wanted it in my heart.
But God is good and hedged me in
The strain still there
But God is good and hedged me in.
Is it possible to Simama Imara?
But God is good and hedged me in.
It is not possible for me alone.
My Boys
I sit here in the Matatu in “my seat”. They all know now. My thoughts turn to my children. Turn to my shortcomings as a Mom and Grandma. You can only do the Mom thing once. So what you miss or what you neglect or what you don’t know cannot be done again. But the joy of my boys filled my life. I am sorry for my shortcomings, for the times I would have given you anything yet failed.
But here in the matatu, I want to thank you. Thank you for being in my life. Thank you for the fun, sad and mad. Thank you for my grand children- they bring a full heart to cheer me.
Enough for now, I am beginning to emote in Kenya, a cultural nono.
But here in the matatu, I want to thank you. Thank you for being in my life. Thank you for the fun, sad and mad. Thank you for my grand children- they bring a full heart to cheer me.
Enough for now, I am beginning to emote in Kenya, a cultural nono.
If Only
If Only I had the courage to end it.
If only I would ask God for the power to resist.
If only my heart would stop breaking.
If only I would keep reality in front of me.
If only I could stop pretending, dreaming, creating a false world.
Then I could return to where I was.
But I am changed – Forever changed.
Created and filled new holes that fight being emptied.
Found places that never before felt.
You started it
Please end it for me.
If only I would ask God for the power to resist.
If only my heart would stop breaking.
If only I would keep reality in front of me.
If only I could stop pretending, dreaming, creating a false world.
Then I could return to where I was.
But I am changed – Forever changed.
Created and filled new holes that fight being emptied.
Found places that never before felt.
You started it
Please end it for me.
My Sons
It is not the work, which burdens my heart.
It is four sons who do not walk with the Lord.
Who, each time I consider, tears my heart with failure
and their eternal danger.
They are God’s and I trust His ability to save but the burden remains
to drive me to prayer.
It is four sons who do not walk with the Lord.
Who, each time I consider, tears my heart with failure
and their eternal danger.
They are God’s and I trust His ability to save but the burden remains
to drive me to prayer.
Monster in the Maine Woods
Once upon a time, not so very long ago, a little boy and his mother lived in the Maine woods.
They didn’t have a garage, a car or even a road.
They had a little path that led through the woods to their house.
They didn’t live in a house like most people.
They lived in a little cabin, a very little cabin, a one-room cabin.
They didn’t have lights like everybody else.
They had lamps that were lit with a match each night.
They didn’t have a computer, a VCR or even a TV!
They didn’t have a phone or a refrigerator.
They didn’t even have a stove to cook on like everybody else.
They had woodstoves, one to cook on and one to heat their little cabin.
They were very happy in their little cabin in the Maine Woods.
Every day the boy and his mother would go out and pick up sticks for the wood stove.
One day the mother made a swing for the little boy.
He was swinging on the swing and the mother was picking up sticks.
The mother was moving further and further away, picking up sticks.
Then she was out of sight around the corner of the cabin.
The boy heard a rustle in the trees.
He looked but kept on swinging. The rustle grew louder and louder.
The leaves moved.
Then out of the woods came a BIG UGLY MONSTER!!!
That monster came closer and closer!
The boy looked for his mother but couldn’t see her.
The monster stood in front of the swing.
When the swing came toward the monster…
The monster GRABBED the boy and ATE HIM UP!
NO!! That is no way for a story to end. Try again. O.K.
The monster stood in front of the swing.
When the swing came toward the monster,
The boy stuck out his legs and….
KICKED the monster in the face.
The monster ran away and never came back again.
Well, that’s better. How about another?
The monster stood in front of the swing,
When the swing came toward the monster,
The boy YELLED,
GO AWAY YOU BIG, MEAN, UGLY MONSTER!!
The monster looked sad and big tears came in his eyes. The monster said, “I might be big and look ugly to you but I am not mean. I just wanted to play with you.”
“Oh,” said the little boy, “I am sorry. Would you like to try my swing?”
“Oh, please, may I?”
From then on the little boy and the monster would play on the swing every day.
Now which ending did you like? Can you think of more?
They didn’t have a garage, a car or even a road.
They had a little path that led through the woods to their house.
They didn’t live in a house like most people.
They lived in a little cabin, a very little cabin, a one-room cabin.
They didn’t have lights like everybody else.
They had lamps that were lit with a match each night.
They didn’t have a computer, a VCR or even a TV!
They didn’t have a phone or a refrigerator.
They didn’t even have a stove to cook on like everybody else.
They had woodstoves, one to cook on and one to heat their little cabin.
They were very happy in their little cabin in the Maine Woods.
Every day the boy and his mother would go out and pick up sticks for the wood stove.
One day the mother made a swing for the little boy.
He was swinging on the swing and the mother was picking up sticks.
The mother was moving further and further away, picking up sticks.
Then she was out of sight around the corner of the cabin.
The boy heard a rustle in the trees.
He looked but kept on swinging. The rustle grew louder and louder.
The leaves moved.
Then out of the woods came a BIG UGLY MONSTER!!!
That monster came closer and closer!
The boy looked for his mother but couldn’t see her.
The monster stood in front of the swing.
When the swing came toward the monster…
The monster GRABBED the boy and ATE HIM UP!
NO!! That is no way for a story to end. Try again. O.K.
The monster stood in front of the swing.
When the swing came toward the monster,
The boy stuck out his legs and….
KICKED the monster in the face.
The monster ran away and never came back again.
Well, that’s better. How about another?
The monster stood in front of the swing,
When the swing came toward the monster,
The boy YELLED,
GO AWAY YOU BIG, MEAN, UGLY MONSTER!!
The monster looked sad and big tears came in his eyes. The monster said, “I might be big and look ugly to you but I am not mean. I just wanted to play with you.”
“Oh,” said the little boy, “I am sorry. Would you like to try my swing?”
“Oh, please, may I?”
From then on the little boy and the monster would play on the swing every day.
Now which ending did you like? Can you think of more?
Job
My heart is heavy thinking of Job.
All the Jobs of the world
We concern ourselves with such trivia. – like our shoes match our clothes
Oh, my fingernail broke
I, as much as anyone, focus on me too. But give me Job to remember.
The gift he gave me.
Job a small boy with sad eyes and curly lashes.
One doctor to another: a line of pills each day.
His smiles, few and precious
Is there another in there?
What is best for Job? Talking heads – the truth?
HIV/TB the terrible twins…. Where is his childhood? The smiles.
I will try Deborah. May God help me
All the Jobs of the world
We concern ourselves with such trivia. – like our shoes match our clothes
Oh, my fingernail broke
I, as much as anyone, focus on me too. But give me Job to remember.
The gift he gave me.
Job a small boy with sad eyes and curly lashes.
One doctor to another: a line of pills each day.
His smiles, few and precious
Is there another in there?
What is best for Job? Talking heads – the truth?
HIV/TB the terrible twins…. Where is his childhood? The smiles.
I will try Deborah. May God help me
My Heavenly Father sees me and knows about this
Thank you Lord. You have seen and you know.
Forgive me.
I can accept what comes as a gift – a failure – or a lesson.
The Lord Knows.
God be in me and in it.
Let this bitter and sweet time be in your control.
May the decisions made “good” or “bad” all draw closer to you.
May I be driven by you and not by the power of my humanity, my fears or insecurities.
Lord I miss the river of your love that refreshes as it flows.
As I wander this desert, thirsty and confused, help me see you, the stark beauty and the seeds of the harvest.
How sweet the river will be.
Forgive me.
I can accept what comes as a gift – a failure – or a lesson.
The Lord Knows.
God be in me and in it.
Let this bitter and sweet time be in your control.
May the decisions made “good” or “bad” all draw closer to you.
May I be driven by you and not by the power of my humanity, my fears or insecurities.
Lord I miss the river of your love that refreshes as it flows.
As I wander this desert, thirsty and confused, help me see you, the stark beauty and the seeds of the harvest.
How sweet the river will be.
Now I am Alone
Now I am alone with myself in my little house.
Now the pain returns
The shame and hurt.
I am grateful to know – to work at the hardening again.
I know I can do it and can sing again.
I don’t want to hear your voice.
I don’t want to hear kind words I can no longer trust.
I wish I had never let this happen.
My heart aches but my mind knows it is good.
There is never a good time for pain but it was inevitable.
“Every little thing gonna be alright”…
As long as I keep busy – look ahead - put mind over emotion.
But the ache is there and pushes forward to tell me my loss.
To desire what it can no longer have.
To fear an even deeper betrayal
What a fool am I
At least here, alone, I can cry.
Empty myself again.
God is good.
He has protected me from open shame yet let me feel the depth of pain.
I pray He protects me from more.
I will need to find out.
Whatever He allows is right and good.
Shame to make me humble.
Love to make me human
Pain to help me avoid
Emptiness for Him to fill
I fantasized the end.
It was so calm and loving
So honest and open
What a fool am I
Childish and naïve
A dreamer full of fantasy and fluff.
Mjinga sana
Now the pain returns
The shame and hurt.
I am grateful to know – to work at the hardening again.
I know I can do it and can sing again.
I don’t want to hear your voice.
I don’t want to hear kind words I can no longer trust.
I wish I had never let this happen.
My heart aches but my mind knows it is good.
There is never a good time for pain but it was inevitable.
“Every little thing gonna be alright”…
As long as I keep busy – look ahead - put mind over emotion.
But the ache is there and pushes forward to tell me my loss.
To desire what it can no longer have.
To fear an even deeper betrayal
What a fool am I
At least here, alone, I can cry.
Empty myself again.
God is good.
He has protected me from open shame yet let me feel the depth of pain.
I pray He protects me from more.
I will need to find out.
Whatever He allows is right and good.
Shame to make me humble.
Love to make me human
Pain to help me avoid
Emptiness for Him to fill
I fantasized the end.
It was so calm and loving
So honest and open
What a fool am I
Childish and naïve
A dreamer full of fantasy and fluff.
Mjinga sana
Pain
Pain – Distraction –
Lord I love you more than life itself
Why the complex conflict?
It should be easy but it becomes more complex each day.
Open my eyes that I may see……..
What a friend we have in Jesus…..
My eyes look -- my heart yearns –
my soul convicts…
Show me what to do.
Conflict -- Stay away
For a while
Let me spend time with you Lord.
Lord I love you more than life itself
Why the complex conflict?
It should be easy but it becomes more complex each day.
Open my eyes that I may see……..
What a friend we have in Jesus…..
My eyes look -- my heart yearns –
my soul convicts…
Show me what to do.
Conflict -- Stay away
For a while
Let me spend time with you Lord.
Planting Seeds
Relaxing in the comfort of a London Cab in Nairobi, we were watching the city lights drift behind as we traveled our final few kilometers to the airport: the end of my annual 90 days in Kenya. This year was so different. My wallet stolen on the flight over, complex people problems, selection of 5 new children for the boy’s Home, struggling financial development, driving challenges in the “bush” were just a few. My 14 year old nephew, Jay, had shared it all. We both sat quietly in reflection until the swerving, squealing tires.
I screamed, “This guy is CRAZY!” Accustomed to the developing world’s public transportation, my usual acute sensitivity to reckless drivers was dulled by the proximity to the airport. The swerving. The curb.
Jay in the seeming distance stated quietly, “We’re gonna roll”.
As if in slow motion, I saw the ceiling of the cab approach my head. “I could die. – No, don’t pass out, you have Jay.” I told myself as the roll completed to the roof and the vehicle continued to skid along the roadside.
Quiet. Dark. “Jay, you OK?” hoping for response. A quiet, in control voice responded, “Yup, should we get out?”
“Is there a way?” my grateful, apprehensive heart responded.
“Yup”, and he led the way. His youthful eyes had spotted a break in the shattered rear windshield. Slight pressure and it gave way leaving a gaping crawl hole. We passed through the fountain of gas pouring from the newly filled tank onto the damp grass and reached safety. Our friend and guide exited the front seat a few minutes later and police captured our escaping driver.
I marvel we are alive. God is so good! It is not my time to go home yet. We are out, alive and with no significant injuries.
“We have to fly.” I told police officers. Incredulous and wonderful, they collected luggage, escorted us to the airport, followed us to take statements, sent airport nursing staff to be sure we were fit to fly and wished us a safe flight. Bumps, bruises and a bit of chest pain, but we did fly.
Settling into our seats, the thoughts begin. Jay dares to say, “Gee, Aunt Beverly, that was sort of fun.”
How does God work in our lives? Earlier, on the way to Nairobi without any foreshadowing, the conversation turned to near death experiences. We shared our near brushes and changed the subject to lunch. Then driving down Haile Selassie on the way to the airport, the conversation drifted to the brevity of life and prompted my standard conversation feeler, “Well, you can be sure you know where you are going when you die.” The conversation died.
The talk of death…the accident. An accident? Fate? Coincidence? Perhaps, but..
My brother is a prominent scientist, an atheist. My niece and nephew have been raised to be loving, generous, kind, honest, sensitive children with no God but nature. My faith strong, but on caution, (I remember my own journey only too well) I desire to love my brother, and his family, to appreciate them for the wonderful special people God made them and be ready to speak when the Spirit prompts and provides open doors and fertile soil.
I shared three wonderful months with my nephew. We lived, worked, slept, got dirty, laughed, shared, grew and even went to church together. Isn’t it like God to bring words and acts together at the last minute?
No, my nephew did not accept Christ as his personal savior. But the ground was made ready and the seed firmly planted.
My trust in God’s ability to move and act in our world to meet His will and answer our prayers, often in unusual ways, was yet again assured. Not only does He have me in His hand, but my nephew, my brother, his family, the boys in our Home, the Home’s financial support struggles, my unemployment, you, your family, your struggles, indeed the Whole World in His Hands. I can be content to plant seeds, knowing God will provide the time and people to water and another to harvest.
1 Corinthians 3:6
I screamed, “This guy is CRAZY!” Accustomed to the developing world’s public transportation, my usual acute sensitivity to reckless drivers was dulled by the proximity to the airport. The swerving. The curb.
Jay in the seeming distance stated quietly, “We’re gonna roll”.
As if in slow motion, I saw the ceiling of the cab approach my head. “I could die. – No, don’t pass out, you have Jay.” I told myself as the roll completed to the roof and the vehicle continued to skid along the roadside.
Quiet. Dark. “Jay, you OK?” hoping for response. A quiet, in control voice responded, “Yup, should we get out?”
“Is there a way?” my grateful, apprehensive heart responded.
“Yup”, and he led the way. His youthful eyes had spotted a break in the shattered rear windshield. Slight pressure and it gave way leaving a gaping crawl hole. We passed through the fountain of gas pouring from the newly filled tank onto the damp grass and reached safety. Our friend and guide exited the front seat a few minutes later and police captured our escaping driver.
I marvel we are alive. God is so good! It is not my time to go home yet. We are out, alive and with no significant injuries.
“We have to fly.” I told police officers. Incredulous and wonderful, they collected luggage, escorted us to the airport, followed us to take statements, sent airport nursing staff to be sure we were fit to fly and wished us a safe flight. Bumps, bruises and a bit of chest pain, but we did fly.
Settling into our seats, the thoughts begin. Jay dares to say, “Gee, Aunt Beverly, that was sort of fun.”
How does God work in our lives? Earlier, on the way to Nairobi without any foreshadowing, the conversation turned to near death experiences. We shared our near brushes and changed the subject to lunch. Then driving down Haile Selassie on the way to the airport, the conversation drifted to the brevity of life and prompted my standard conversation feeler, “Well, you can be sure you know where you are going when you die.” The conversation died.
The talk of death…the accident. An accident? Fate? Coincidence? Perhaps, but..
My brother is a prominent scientist, an atheist. My niece and nephew have been raised to be loving, generous, kind, honest, sensitive children with no God but nature. My faith strong, but on caution, (I remember my own journey only too well) I desire to love my brother, and his family, to appreciate them for the wonderful special people God made them and be ready to speak when the Spirit prompts and provides open doors and fertile soil.
I shared three wonderful months with my nephew. We lived, worked, slept, got dirty, laughed, shared, grew and even went to church together. Isn’t it like God to bring words and acts together at the last minute?
No, my nephew did not accept Christ as his personal savior. But the ground was made ready and the seed firmly planted.
My trust in God’s ability to move and act in our world to meet His will and answer our prayers, often in unusual ways, was yet again assured. Not only does He have me in His hand, but my nephew, my brother, his family, the boys in our Home, the Home’s financial support struggles, my unemployment, you, your family, your struggles, indeed the Whole World in His Hands. I can be content to plant seeds, knowing God will provide the time and people to water and another to harvest.
1 Corinthians 3:6
I See Myself
I see myself through worldly eyes
I do not measure up
I see myself through heavenly eyes
I do not measure up
But plucked for no merit of mine
I am wrapped in
Richest silk
Placed in brotherhood with God
Teach me how to walk
And act and speak my gratitude
Accept the responsibility
That comes with unmerited favor
Teach me how to wear your love.
I do not measure up
I see myself through heavenly eyes
I do not measure up
But plucked for no merit of mine
I am wrapped in
Richest silk
Placed in brotherhood with God
Teach me how to walk
And act and speak my gratitude
Accept the responsibility
That comes with unmerited favor
Teach me how to wear your love.
White Sands
White Sands
Blue water
Time washed away
Why are bad things –
Hurtful things done
In your Name?
Chase away
Chase away those that
Might come and
Find the peace and rest and
Love and eternity.
Forgive us Lord
Forgive us these things
That chase others away
From your table
As if they are not welcome
As if we were worthy
Blue water
Time washed away
Why are bad things –
Hurtful things done
In your Name?
Chase away
Chase away those that
Might come and
Find the peace and rest and
Love and eternity.
Forgive us Lord
Forgive us these things
That chase others away
From your table
As if they are not welcome
As if we were worthy
So many children
So many children
They didn’t ask to be born
So many children
Facing life alone
So many children
Hungry, cold and sick
So many children facing death alone.
They didn’t ask to be born
So many children
Facing life alone
So many children
Hungry, cold and sick
So many children facing death alone.
Take a Seat
The dreaded words of Kenya
TAKE A SEAT
Five minutes Five hours – all the same
TAKE A SEAT
No action appears to be happening
TAKE A SEAT
Lunch has come and gone
TAKE A SEAT
Alone on the bench
TAKE A SEAT
Crowded like sardines in a can
TAKE A SEAT
I grow old and cobwebs gather
TAKE A SEAT
TAKE A SEAT
Five minutes Five hours – all the same
TAKE A SEAT
No action appears to be happening
TAKE A SEAT
Lunch has come and gone
TAKE A SEAT
Alone on the bench
TAKE A SEAT
Crowded like sardines in a can
TAKE A SEAT
I grow old and cobwebs gather
TAKE A SEAT
Thorns and Dust
Thorns and Dust
Cement and Steel
All covered in sunshine and smiles
Beating me as surely and thoroughly as a flogging
Cement and Steel
All covered in sunshine and smiles
Beating me as surely and thoroughly as a flogging
It was a difficult night.
It was a difficult night.
I was hoping not to struggle so hard.
Thank you for your provision of escape.
It will be a long three months.
Keep me from stumbling.
Even here in the land of Hakuna Matata, there are changes.
Some things never change.
Your love is the most steadfast rock of all.
I was hoping not to struggle so hard.
Thank you for your provision of escape.
It will be a long three months.
Keep me from stumbling.
Even here in the land of Hakuna Matata, there are changes.
Some things never change.
Your love is the most steadfast rock of all.
To the Bush
To the bush please
Where people are people, not obstacles
Where breathing is deep, not choking
Where silence is broken with chirps and warbles
Where the soul can find rest.
Where people are people, not obstacles
Where breathing is deep, not choking
Where silence is broken with chirps and warbles
Where the soul can find rest.
Total Dependence vs. Insanity/Irresponsibility
Total Dependence vs. Insanity/Irresponsibility
Is it you Lord who has me on the edge?
If So, then I am truly free
If not, I am truly insane or irresponsible as the case may be
I am tired, working, working, always working
Working but seeing no fruit
Am I planting in a desert?
Will I ever bear fruit?
Is it mine to break the ground, break the plow for the drought?
If that is for You, then I am truly free.
If that is not for you, then I am insane or irresponsible as the case may be.
To everything there is a season.
A time to build up and a time to break down
Will I know?
Persevere and Trust
It looks alluring over there.
To finish with some toys – not lots
Is that sanity or responsibility as the case may be?
My account in heaven, my retirement account for eternity growing
Is it you Lord? Then I am truly free.
If not then I am truly insane or irresponsible as the case may be.
Is it you Lord who has me on the edge?
If So, then I am truly free
If not, I am truly insane or irresponsible as the case may be
I am tired, working, working, always working
Working but seeing no fruit
Am I planting in a desert?
Will I ever bear fruit?
Is it mine to break the ground, break the plow for the drought?
If that is for You, then I am truly free.
If that is not for you, then I am insane or irresponsible as the case may be.
To everything there is a season.
A time to build up and a time to break down
Will I know?
Persevere and Trust
It looks alluring over there.
To finish with some toys – not lots
Is that sanity or responsibility as the case may be?
My account in heaven, my retirement account for eternity growing
Is it you Lord? Then I am truly free.
If not then I am truly insane or irresponsible as the case may be.
Water
WATER
Dare I speak with passion of my love of water.
Cool, smooth, soft
The softest bed
Gliding through almost effortless seeking the rhythm that lets each breath enter and flow, deep and slow
Slowly easily in smooth rhythm
Feeling the refreshing flow
Endless seemingly effortless
Stroke after stroke
The tension releases
Finally sated the long suspended imagery before reality must return
Dare I speak with passion of my love of water.
Cool, smooth, soft
The softest bed
Gliding through almost effortless seeking the rhythm that lets each breath enter and flow, deep and slow
Slowly easily in smooth rhythm
Feeling the refreshing flow
Endless seemingly effortless
Stroke after stroke
The tension releases
Finally sated the long suspended imagery before reality must return
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