Blessed are You, Lord my God,
Who lifts the poor from the dust,
Who calls the tormented by name,
Who walks into hell to find His beloved
and does not leave them there.

Blessed are You, Lord my God,
For You saw me when I was lost,
You rescued me before I even knew Your name,
And carried me out of darkness,
Not with shame, but with love.

You placed Your hand upon my life,
And everything changed.
Not because I earned it,
But because You are mercy,
Because You are love,
Because You are good.

I was in hell,
But now I see.
My life is no longer mine;
You live through me, with me, as me.
There is nothing but You.

Thank You.

Amen.

See them *****, ******* thoughts?
And those ****-ugly feelings?
Aye?

If it’s *****—it ain’t right.

Canny have rats in the hoose!
Crawlin’ aroon' yer skull,
clawin’ and draggin rot aboot—
kickin' up ****
and makin’ a mess!

No wonder yer ******.

Ye canny feed hope tae rats.

This is the hoose of God—
and it reeks.

So get tae work!

Say the name.
Chase them out.

They’ve lived rent-free too long.
Get them rat ******* tae ****.

Help me live
like a river flows:
forever giving,
always receiving—

never clinging,
never still,
not hoarding,
not hardened—
but alive.

Alive in the current
of mercy and motion,
in the eternal
inpouring,
outflowing
of Love.

The Water of Life
flows into me,
fills me,
overflows me,
drowns me,
then pours through me.

This Unknowable Love,
Your Love,
pours down:
a gentle trickle,
a running stream,
a flash-flood
of good-will
always
seeking
the darkest crevice
the lowest point.

Your Life-giving waters,
of unending grace,
fill from to the bottom
first flowing always
to the poorest of the poor.

Don’t tell me what I must see.
I have no trust in your beliefs.

Things change.
Beliefs change.
Everything moves
like shadows in smoke.

The world is alive
dancing,
making love,
breathing heavy:

Out...
flows life from apparent nothingness.

In...
we return to everything.

That’s the living breath,
the sweet pant of Mother Earth,
who can never rest
and loves us so.

She must continually
eat her young
to feed the new.

So what should we believe?
What matters?

Who knows...
I can only trust
the silent authority
of experience.

I am here.
I am alive.
I am me.

If truth is true,
let it come unspoken.
Let me see.

Then I’ll know.

Spring my faith and bloom Your love,
carry me on winds of grace.

I care not where my seed is placed,
plant me where You see most fit.

From tender sprout to fullest bloom,
for now and ever I will sing Your praise.

And at the end when You decide,
I’ll bow my head in gentle peace,
forever held within Your light.