Aching Friend

As part of the Body of Christ, when one member is hurting the others feel the pain which that member is experiencing. Sometimes, though, there is nothing that can be done to ease that pain except reach out in love and friendship, and pray.

Aching Friend

The arm is aching, pain has come,
And every member feels the flame,
The body in its unity
Is hurting in the love it claims;

We’re hurting with each throb you feel,
And cry to see the painful burns,
But there is little I can do
But pray that health will soon return;

But I want you to know, my friend,
That I am always here for you;
I cannot take the pain away
But I’ll show love in all I do.

The Hardest Kind of Love

It is easy to take someone’s heart, claiming that it was done for love, only to break it when you decide to move on. It is easy to say words of endearment and stir up romance even when you know you aren’t ready to make a commitment. But the deepest, truest kind of love is the hardest kind of love: the love which turns away from romance until the time is right—the love that would die to its dreams rather than break someone’s heart.

The hardest kind of love
Will sending you soaring high,
Alone, to find the sun,
The smile behind the sigh—

You love her, but sometimes
True love asks you to leave;
You’re called to fly alone—
What heights will you achieve?

Go find the dawn of hope,
Find joy within the sky,
And know your love’s declared:
For her you choose to die.

Hundredfold

Dying to your dreams is very difficult to do. But Jeus said, “Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” When we die to our dreams they can return to us a hundred times greater.

Hundredfold

What solemn dirge is this I hear,
This mournful wail within my heart?
The flames will purge the dross I see,
The whips will flail my selfish dreams;

The seeds will die, the darkness come
And overwhelm my fragile heart;
The dreams will lie within their graves
But life still dwells in death’s regime;

Why do the tears run down my face?
Why can’t I see the dawn of hope?
The dreams held dear are fading now,
So I must free them from my heart;

The seeds are dying, darkness comes,
But through their death springs greater life;
The tears I cry will water joy,
The dark’s a path that leads to light;

What is this sprouting dream I see?
I thought they died, the tomb was sealed!
What is the shouting in my ears?
Has God provided victory?

The seeds have died, the darkness came,
But look! The tomb is empty now—
For life’s defying death itself,
The seeds have bloomed a hundredfold…

Smile

It always amazes me how much a single smile can warm up a person's heart...

Smile

Shadows had darkened my heart,
Mists of doubt hung about until
Illuminating my life,
Love shone down on me,
Entering my heart as a smile.

Beneath the Sunset

It is an awesome experience to have been given so much peace that what once would have caused a lot of remorse now causes none at all...

Beneath the Sunset

I can’t explain what happened:
I found remorse had disappeared—
I stand beneath the sunset,
And know that God is with me here…

What would have stung my heart before
Now sinks into the depths of peace,
And all I long for at this time
Is for the chance to see God’s face.

I fear the sacrifice no more,
But wait to see what God has planned—
I stand beneath the sunset
And know that hope will rise again…

The Heart of it All

The primary purpose of nature is to point us to the Creator. All of the beauty and color in nature is the handiwork of the Master Artist, and just as a painting communicates the thoughts and ideas of the painter, all of creation communicates the thoughts and ideas of the Creator.

The Heart of it All

The flowers glow with vibrant color,
A blazing handiwork of art;
They’re more than just a feast for eyes:
Their beauty reaches to the heart—

The sunset is a masterpiece
Beyond all works of pen or brush;
The voice of hope, for those who hear,
Was added as a final touch—

All nature is a gift of love
With many secrets to explore,
So many roads await our souls:
Each sketch, each sculpture is a door—

For deep within this beauty stands
The One who is the heart of all—
Behold the Master Artist’s hand,
He waits for us to hear His call!

Counting Blessings

If I would count my blessings
It would be like counting drops of rain
When heaven’s vats were open wide,
And adding two for each that came;

If I would count the clouds above
I know there would be quite a few;
So many people touch my life,
Among them all, I think of you—

Oh happy heart that’s drenched by love!
There’s nothing more that I desire,
Except the hope that somehow I
In turn, can lift your heart up higher…