to be himself a star most bright
to draw the wisemen to his side
to be himself a voice most sweet
to call the children to his feet
to be himself with gentle eyes
to see the dead and bring them life
to be himself the Son of God
to call me chosen and beloved
i’ve seen his face, I know the voice
he calls to me
i’ve touched his scars, and felt his wrists
i’ve seen the truth
holy, holy god
holy, holy god
you are love
you are love
to be himself and bring us light
to bleed for us a sacrifice
to be himself a humble king
to take upon the curse of sin
to be himself a spotless lamb
to sit with god at his right hand
to be himself redeeming love
to raise me up along with him
praise him
praise him
all ye little children
god is love
god is love
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 3:29 PM UTC
i see light
and it's too bright
it awakens my senses
and lifts me to heaven
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 3:24 PM UTC
when I was young
i was told a thousand stories
of a world of love
and all the painful memories
i couldn’t see the world
behind the stained glass walls I knew
the things that I was taught
didn’t match up with the truth
and right before my eyes
a life was being lived
begging me to let them in
there’s a world of blues
and painted skies
the distant sound of lullabies
of orphans in their beds
crying out for a better life
and there’s mountains to climb
and there’s people to love
and there’s hearts filled with something
you've only scratched the surface of
and that's hope
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 3:22 PM UTC
every tear will have a place in eden
and every heart and hungry soul be fed
there again we'll see the good in eden
when every heart and hungry soul is fed
enemies will hold each other's hands
around your table
stories will be told about your kindness
and everyone will see the love that you poured out
because you're god
because you're love
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 3:14 PM UTC
i was sitting with my family at a mexican restaurant in ocala, florida when the idea of death was brought up. my great uncle cecil had recently died and i would be playing violin at his funeral in a few days.
he was cremated. and i knew that.
“i don’t like the idea of cremation,” i shared with the table. my dad responded with empathy but reminded me that he himself wanted to be cremated. of course i had heard this before. but this time was different.
ashes.
something deep welled up inside me and i began to feel a weight hanging from my eyes as if someone was pulling every single tear from my ducts.
i quickly removed myself from the table so that my family wouldn’t recognize the pain stirring inside my bones. anxiety. ashes.
as i stood in the bathroom, i began to wipe away the not-yet-healed wounds of being told my body would be burned in hell. in fact, i remember every time a preacher would in their own way tell me my body would be subjected to billions of years of excruciating torture because I was gay.
sinners in the hands of an angry god.
mixed messages of god loves everyone and god burns **** and sinners have torn apart my once held view of a gracious deity.
ashes.
words of scripture I once revered now tell me i’m no longer welcomed.
ashes.
faithful christians whom I once knew now tell me that satan has a grip on my soul...
i still love jesus. and I know that love is reciprocated.
and that is why my very core breaks into a thousand different pieces when I hear about a loved one that has chosen to be cremated. how could I ever choose cremation... for it has already been chosen for me.
glitter.
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 3:11 PM UTC
mustard gas and hand grenades
****** wounds that seep with pain
the sergeant yells to shoot the guns
and all the children start to run
and then we're told the battles' ours
the enemy he has no heart
the lines are drawn
it's time to choose our sides
every war
it only leads to ten thousand more wars
it only builds up ten thousand more walls
the hunger of the bloodlust never dies
and then just leaves us empty here inside
if only we could look into our brother's eyes
we might find a love that's worth a life
empty towns and shattered hearts
limb by limb they're torn apart
by our words and by our hate
we can choose to love or ****
but we're told the battle's ours
the enemy he has no heart
the lines are drawn
it's time to choose our sides
choose to love like Jesus
how he loved his enemies
reaching out to the broken
he showed us his mercy
mercy, mercy
christ have mercy
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 2:59 PM UTC