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A parched soil—
cracked, barren, yearning,
thirsty,
sinking into death.

My spirit, withering,
gnawed by hollow hunger,
enlisted in error
by a single act:

The act—
sealing shut
the Word of God,
the Living Water.

My soul,
a silent witness to this wrong,
sank
into depression,
into hopelessness,
into dust.

Yet opening His Word,
I drank from ancient wells—
joy spilling,
peace unfurling,
hope reborn.

For He
is His Word,
overflowing
in my hands.
Like a key and a padlock,
We unite in the Master's hand.

Like a pen and a paper,
We theorize in the Master's wisdom.

Like mud and water,
We form by the Master's will.

No us without His,
No me without you.

Complete in Him,
We edify one another as one.

Like a seed in the Master's vineyard,
We are fruitful,
Fulfilling our unity.
And if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him; and a threefold cord is not quickly broken.
-- Ecclesiastes 4:12
KJV Holy Bible

A union in God.
I was the echo in an empty room,
a shadow unloved by the light,
the prayer that faltered mid-breath—
half hope, half hush.

Grief wore me like a second skin,
and silence knew my name
better than joy ever dared to.
Every yes lost in the valley of no.

But grace—
it did not shout.
It came like morning
spilling gold on ruin,
steady as the hand
that cupped my cracked spirit
and called it whole.

I did not climb out.
I was carried.
Through muck and memory,
through the ache of again,
through the questions
that bruised my faith
but could not break it.

Now,
I stand—not tall, but steady—
not without scars,
but with story.
Held not because I held on,
but because Love never let go.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.
—Psalm 40:2
Scheduled
I sketched my life
with bold strokes of ambition—
my mind dancing,
my heart skipping like a tambourine.

I saw myself
advocating, defending—
a smile stitched on courtroom wins,
my name echoing through channels,
my praise in every mouth.
I daydreamed,
I built bliss in a vision
I thought was mine.

But my aim was narrow.
He, in wisdom, drew another path—
a path where mud clings,
where stains speak,
where pain walks beside me.

Like a painter
He brushed a new canvas
and smiled,
“Perfect for my daughter.”

Now, in the path He destined,
I care—
holding lives on fragile lines.
I teach,
I advocate for health.
I cry,
offering comfort,
living empathy.

Now, it’s no longer fantasy—
but His will done.
And in this,
I’ve found true bliss—
rising each day
to walk this chosen road.

In Him,
I see the masterpiece.
Perfect.
God's plans are always perfect.
I trust in His plan for my life.
Jesus' baby Apr 19
Wake up,
Wake up—
Are you slumbering
In the name of rocking?

It is written:
The devil has blinded their eyes.
Do you fantasize
Peace and life in hell?

Hello,
Hello—
You're dying,
Deceived
In the name of freedom.

Run while you can,
Run fast—
Let your heels
Hit your head
If that’s what it takes.

Run,
Run,
Now—
Into the arms of Jesus.

Wake up,
Wake up,
Before you're dead—
Dead in your slumber.
In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.
-- 2 Corinthians 4:4 (KJV HOLY BIBLE)
Jesus' baby Apr 19
Let me shine
As a city set upon the hill—
Unhidden, unwavering,
A beacon carved in twilight.

Let me burn,
Not as a candle
Tucked beneath the bed,
But as a flame that dares the dark
And declares the dawn.

Let me radiate—
The glory of my God,
Unmistakable,
Undeniable.

I must shine,
That the world may see,
And testify of good works born of grace,
Then lift their voice in praise
To the One who lit this fire.

It is mandated—
It is commanded:
By your fruits they will know you.
So let them see Jesus in me,
As He is in God,
His breath within my becoming,
Alive in the current of His heart,
No longer I—
But Christ revealed.
A true believer in Christ Jesus seeks to glorify God and God alone.
Jesus' baby Apr 19
No man,
No creature
Has looked at me with love—
Love that whispers:
“Till the end of time.”

Many come,
Wearing claims,
Speaking unity,
But their eyes—
Their eyes deceive.

Don’t hold me.
I fear I’ll break.
Don’t speak of me—
I tremble to spill from your lips.

My heart shuts out,
My mind dissolves
Like plum in flame.
Still, I forgive—
Even when I shouldn’t.

This life is not mine.
I must walk in the Spirit,
Even as I live by the Spirit.

For without love,
You are nothing
But a resounding cymbal.

Be perfect—
Just as He is.
"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love,
I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”
— 1 Corinthians 13:1

“Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.”
— Galatians 5:25
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