Sunday, March 30, 2014

The Grand Scheme of Things

                                                                                                                   ~Napoleon Hill


~The Grand Scheme of Things~

My heart reaches out to those that have gone before me.

My heart looks ahead to those who are after me. 
But does this matter?
Is what I do really matter in the grand scheme of things?



My heart grasps onto truths that have been taught to me.
My heart breaks when I fall down into the deep.
But does this matter?
Is what I feel and believe matter in the grand scheme of things?



I realize the commentary in my life is that of a heckle.
I realize it hurts and stings when I am on my own. 
But does this matter?
I wonder this daily?



Does it matter that I die every day?
Does it matter that my vices are flaws made by being critical of the truth?
Am I able to stitch together selfishness and turn it into good?
Am I able to love and have that be enough?



Does it matter? 
Am I causing my brother to fall?
Does it matter?
Am I causing my mind to over think all I know is true?



My heart has chosen to believe over doubt. 
My heart has chosen to doubt the lie that hides inside.
Do my actions influence others, does it matter? 
I think I will let you decide.

Sunday, March 23, 2014

What Makes Your Heart Fall?





"Oh, but Jesus. I’ve got Vices like any other man.

Vices that you’re so used to. 
Vices that won’t make you think less of me."            ~Dead Poetic







~What Makes Your Heart Fall?~

What is it that makes you fall?
What is the act that torments and feels good to you?
What makes your heart splinter?

What is the hope that breaks all understanding?
What makes you tick, the good and the bad?
Do we choose to die, or do we press on and forgive ourselves and others?

What is it that draws you further away from being clean?
What takes your humility from your body and twists it to make you feel pride?
We are all unworthy, but we have hope to turn around the life we lead.

I have my own chains.
I have my own vices.
They are things that will make people see how unworthy I can be.

My vices fight my will for humility.
My vices attack all I hold dear.
My vices  make me fall, fail, and run.

But...

Healing can come to every man.
Healing can be a hand that reaches down and pulls us back up.
Healing can come by water running through our souls.
Healing wakes us with the song of birds gently filling our spirits.

Do I cast the first stone?
Or do I let the water make me believe?
Or do I let the water help me breathe?

What is it that makes you fall?
Whatever it is...
Take it up, cast it aside, and baptize your mind.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Looking for Home

Where I Belong
Storms on the wasteland
Dark clouds on the plains again
We were born into the fight

But I'm not sentimental
This skin and bones is a rental
And no one makes it out alive

                               ~Switchfoot(Where I Belong)



~Looking for Home~

As the rain begins to fall I begin to feel home. 
I long for the days of forever and I begin it now.
In the name of the one who saves every sin.
To live in the name of the one who is forever.

This man was nailed to a cross.
This man bore my sins with his stripes. 
He is the one whose name I call to for Grace,
I call on it in the good and the bad.

My Savior lives and he loves.
My Savior remains even when I fade. 
My Savior was nailed to the cross for me.
My savior bled so that I may have life.

As the rain falls and the thunder roars my life begins and ends and continues in glories name. 
As faith is tested and wills begin to break.
My God is able, my God is not to be underestimated.

To live not for myself
To live not by myself

To live for the glory, and the honor of my savior.
To live for the name that reminds me, I am more than what the world tells me.
His name
Oh, his sweet name is Jesus.

Sunday, March 16, 2014

Let Me Be Free

"And in that moment I swear we were infinite."
                                                                  ~The Perks of Being a Wallflower

~Let Me Be Free~

I want the water to be over my head.
I want the waves to drown out my fears.
I want the calm, and the choppy to let me rise.
To let me rise and walk towards a silhouette in the distance.

When the whisper is heard
And the voice enters my ears.
I think I will listen.

When an action is asked,
And the voice is strong.
I think I will oblige.

I want the water to penetrate my soul.
I want the salt to cleanse my wounds.
I want the wind to whisper in my ear.
To let me rise and overcome all my fears.

There is a place where my soul meets the end.
There is a soul that can always take me there.
There is a moment built by many.
When these moments come together in sweet memory.

For I have two pieces of wood covered in blood.
I have nails I have used too many times.
I have a savior who supplies me my water.
Because he bore all that I used to live for.

I lay down my blood and choose to be white as snow
And I watch the dead rise up inside my mind.
Then I look to the shore and see its beauty
And I know where I belong.

I run towards the water
And I dive into the deep.
I let the water rise and fall all over me.
As the water washes me clean I start to understand my eternity.

And in that moment I fathom the sacrifice.
In that moment I rise, I run on top of liquid where I used to sink.
I make the choice to follow you.
And you make the choice to let me be free.

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Right Where I Am

"Is any body out there? Hello, hello"
                                                   ~Anberlin

~Right Where I Am~

Right where I am.
I wonder where that is?
I have been told, I will be met where I am.
Is this true?

Right where I am.
I wonder where that is?
Is someone out there that knows where I am?
Hello, can you hear me, am I true?

Is compassion met with understanding?
Are my problems worth the effort?
Right where I am.
Am I met where I am?

I would love to stand on the ocean shore and experience right where I am.
To dance in the water and feel my world be free.
To feel the waves of compassion flood over my body.
And to see my wounds washed clean.

Hello, can you hear me?
Do you hear my words?
Are you with me?
Did you leave me?

My God, my God why did you forsake me?
Is the ocean waiting for me?
Is the water still calling my name?
Like the man by the pool, for thirty-eight years, I want to be healed.
Will someone carry me, so I can carry myself?

Can someone heal me?
Right where I am.
Feeling the emotions shared by God.
Compassion makes me feel.
I want to feel, to be free, to carry on, to know where I belong.
Right where I am.
I wonder where that is?