... but er' of heart.
The arrow flies to
miss its mark.

When love shot thus
makes pain begin
The hurtful shaft
of evil wins.

The arrow's notched
the bow is bent
But think before
that missile's sent!

Is it for love
with great aplomb?
Or does it house
an atom bomb?

Cupid's said to be a god.
But he can hurt
as well as laud!

Be ye careful of dismay!
Marry her!
Or you both pay!

I won't say more.
I won't shout.
I'm going now...

... over. *OUT.

Love's the glue
Which heals the heart
No matter how shattered
Torn appart
Your life's not over
Your doom's not sealed
Your body's broken
Your spirit's healed

Love's the glue
Love's the glue
Flows from His veins
For me and you
He was broken
He was shamed
That we'd be pardoned
Free from blame
You know it's righteous
You know it's true
If you're broken
Love's the glue

He's lost his home
He has no car
He takes the bus
From bar to bar
He's lost his wife
He's lost his friends
The bottle's bottom
Never ends
She's on chemo
Lost her hair
She's so gaunt
That people stare
She has no family
Lost her breast
But there are arms
Where she can rest...

[Chorus]

BRIDGE:
Bruised and battered
Whipped and flayed
He could have left
Before He paid
The final price
For me and you
Jesus heals...

*LOVE'S THE GLUE

Have I been too revealing
Employing too much wailing?
Were the drums a bit too much
With epic trumpets playing?

Have I been too obtuse
Or did I veer into rambling?
Could I have better laid it out
Without elaborating?

Have I done justice to the discourse?
Did I mis-count the charging horses?
Did I include sufficient angels?
Was I true to my sources?

I trust that I did hold true
To heavenly inspiration
That the words will stand the test of time
And bring true revelation

But if I did stray from the truth
If it all seemed way too bleak
Please respond with due good grace
It's only my first week.

Dear Jesus, thank you for
bringing me back to your fold
Thank you for your mercy and your love untold
I felt so lonely, and far, far away;

I didn't know how I would make it day to day
My hopes and my dreams had actually disappeared,
But then you healed my heart and my soul cheered
Deep down I knew that you would never, ever leave me,

Because you promised to be with me and accept me gladly
It was like a veil lifted from my face
It was like my depression had left no trace
My soul felt light and free as the wind

As free as if there had been no sin

I felt your presence ever near my heart
Even though I didn't acknowledge it from the start
I heard a small, still voice sweetly saying
Stop feeling sorry for yourself and start praying,

Help me Jesus to have
unswerving faith and love
Help me to realize that my help comes from above
Help me to be willing, strong, faithful & true

Help me give you the glory, in everything I do
Help me to be a living witness of your power & grace
Help me Jesus to finally win this seemingly impossible race
Help me to always lean on your firm and loving breast

Help me to trust you when I'm put to the test
Thanks, precious Jesus for opening your arms
Thanks, precious Jesus for tagging along
Thanks Jesus for fulfilling my wildest hopes & dreams

Thanks for letting me feel your most merciful, holy beams
You are truly the most wonderful, loving friend

I am Living, to spend time with those with broken hearts.
I am Living, to Pray for those that are hurting and dying.
I am Living, to bring Joy to those that are in mourning today.
I am Living, to help those that are hurting with sufferings.
I am Living, I to hurt but my Lord is at work healing me.
So that he can use me by example to encourage others.
I am Living, to Love upon any whom need Christ now.
I am Living, to encourage others to grab onto Christ healing.
I am Living so that Christ can use me to help others today.

Her's is a heart beat of hope
Hesitant but defiant
Faint but climbing
Gaining a higher hold
Gasping for deeper breath
Crawling into life
Into new born surprise
Shocked lungs shooting cries
Generating joy-deep sighs
From two families
For life

Leaves' dancing shadows on the piece of sun
missing the keen eyes
rebound on the vacant space.

The man played with shadows
weaving them into whimsy shapes
before most of them were pulps of paper
gone into the bin of night.

If not for light
would be no shadows
he was always churning in his mind
probing dark holes of moon
going into shady nooks
seeking playfully alive shadows.

The dead casts no shadows
he brooded
on the space he would leave

but he wished
they had
when he wasn't around.