Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Here's the chours of the a song I wrote recently:

I'll run to the truth
I won't listen to lies
I won't follow my heart
It's a lie in desguise
I'll run to the truth
Then surrender all
To the one who created me
He's alive in me!
And he's the only one who can set me free

You will know the Truth, and the Truth will set you free.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012


Ever since the day she was born
She was unwanted
And now no one was there to hear her cry
She screams, "My life is a lie!"
She runs, she hides
And she takes a knife.
She holds it to her throat
And whispers, "Goodbye."
Oh why did it have to come to this?
She's dying (She's dying)
She closes her eyes
Her life flashes before her
She screams as she remembers
She's ready
Then she hears a whisper,

"Listen to me
Drop the knife.
Don't cry.
Take it up.
And follow me."

She stared at it through her tears.
"Can I really be alive?"

She gets though the day
Crying and praying all the way
And when she thinks she needs to end her life
She hears a whisper,
"What you're thinking,
it's a lie."
She can't take it anymore.
She threw herself on the floor.
She puts her hands in the air
And screams with her might

"Take all of me.
Rescue me!
I don't know how you can
I'm not worthy still
But I know that you will!
Don't leave me dying!"
And she hears the whisper,
"I won't leave you."
I'll keep you alive."

Then she screams with all her might,
"I'm alive!"

"And Jesus said to all, "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it."
Luke 9:23-24

Looking at Me

Here is a poem I wrote awhile ago:
Looking at me
What do I see?
Looking in mirror
What do I hear?
A little helpless thing
A nothing, a nobody, not even a something. 
Something that’s hardened at heart. 
Something that’s taken apart. 
But the beautiful majesty.
He was the one that gave me wings.
He softened my heart.
He put me back into part.
Now that little helpless thing 
Is a person, a something. 
Now when I look in the mirror
To humans I’m just a person.
But in God’s eyes  
I’m something special,
Something dear.