~Lost on Our Islands~

"From the day we're born we are scarred and torn.We've been scared to sing out loud, but we don't care no more'cause we know life is short. We don't care who hears us now.Breathe it in and let it out."

                ~Switchfoot (Jon Foreman) 

~Lost on Our Islands~

Lost and then saved.

Freedom comes with the wind, with the ocean, with my broken heart. 

Lost and then saved. 

Freedom comes from wood and nails, blood and vinegar, earthquakes of vengeance.

Lost and then saved.

I have these nails and I have two pieces of wood. 

I have these prayers sent up to the sky hoping for them to come down as rain. 

I have these nails and I have two pieces of wood. 

I have these prayers sent into the ground hoping for them to spring back up.

Blank pages on scrolls forged by fire.

What will be written about me?

Blank pages on scrolls forged by love.

What will it be written in?

Blank pages on scrolls forged by fire.

Are we using ink, or graphite, or should we be using blood as white as snow?

I have this hammer that came with my nails and wood.

I have this device to nail up my Savior.  

Over and over again I pound and hammer my words away. 

I nail up my savior instead of realizing the empty tomb.

I am lost but I can be found.

I am lost and sometimes need to see the hands.

The holes that represent life, and bring me back to repentance. 

I am lost but I can find my way back by his saving grace.

This world that we live in does not adhere to the teachings of God.

But he is in this world.

This world is lost, but we as vessels can help them become found. 

He is in the world.

One should understand he came to save those who are lost. 

We are lost on our islands and our eyes are covered by black smoke. 

There are monsters moving in to take us away from the truth.

But he is there and he shed his blood for me, and you.

Freedom comes in the wind, it comes with fire, it comes from the ocean. 

The waves crashing over our souls eroding the strife and the pain. 

The fire burning away our sins.

The air blowing away the smoke that clouds our eyes.

So what will my blank pages be filled with?

What will your blank pages be filled with?

I hope for words that say, "Well done, good and faithful servant!"

The Son of God and man paid the price, so he could write my scroll in blood.

Lost and then saved.

Freedom comes from the cross, the nails, the blood.

Lost and then saved.

Freedom comes from the sins being washed away. 

Lost and then saved.

Freedom comes when the poor are fed. 

When we do our part and take up his sacrifice. 

Be like the God that saved the world and covered the price for our salvation.

From being nailed up on my two beams, and then overcoming death.

We are lost, but we can be found.

By his blood, by his story.

The truth can set us free. 

~I Think that is the Better Option~

"We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope."
                                                                                                           ~Martin Luther King, Jr.
~I Think that is the Better Option~

How about we forget all that we hold dear?
How about we regret everything that has been given to us?
How about we hurt the ones we love?
How about we throw our lives away and destroy the hope we have found inside?

Let us not turn into something we are not.
Let us not abandon the ideals engraved in our hearts.
Let us not take throw away the  answers we know are not right.
Let us take hold of the truth and never look back.

Why do we not cut off the love that is supposed to save
And fall to the ground and crawl away?
Why do we not disregard lives that have saved us
And then ask ourselves why we deserve another day?

Let us not turn into something we are not.
Let us not abandon the ideals engraved in our hearts.
Let us not throw away the answers we know are not right.
Let us take hold of the truth and never look back.

Thoughts and attitudes can cloud the judgments of those left behind.
Thoughts and feelings can be fickle and hold no true meaning.
Do you not think that doubts have crossed the minds of all that believe?
Thoughts and attitudes betray the way that was laid before me.
Do you not think that doubts have crossed the hearts of all that believe?

How about we embrace all that we hold dear?
How about we cherish everything that has been given to us?
How about we love the ones that love us back?
How about we throw away the doubts and remember the hope we have inside?
I think that sounds like the better option.

~Bought by Death, Forged by Life~

"I'll need my maker
To cure me of my doubting blood
And drain me of the sins I love
And take from me my disbelief."
                                         ~Dashboard Confessional


~Bought by Death, Forged by Life~

A burning desire to do what is wrong against the other side.
I crawl in the depths of what I believe to be true.
I hang my head down in the face of truth.
A burning desire for things that I know does not glorify.

It only takes one to change the world.
It only takes one to turn desires of flesh to desires that fulfill.
In my life I know the rights and I know the wrongs.
I know that I am tempted by body mind and soul.

It only takes one to deny the other world.
It only takes one to corrupt and kill all that is whole.
In my life I fear the wrong people, but I can try to fear the truth.
In my life I know it is impossible to be perfect, but I can try.

A burning desire to do what is wrong in the eyes of my Lord.
Sometimes I struggle to believe.
I need a burning desire that is hotter than that of the world.
I need to break the ropes and be on my way to the path that hurts more
.
The reward is great the road is hard.
I am tempted by fates that I do not want to choose.
I should live for my death, unlike the world who live for life and themselves.
The reward makes everything sweeter.

At worlds end I will be joined with the Son of Man.
At worlds end the dichotomy of life becomes one.
My burning desire fully on the Son of Sorrow for my sorrow is no more.

It is time be be real, to crawl, to run, to breathe in this life.
It is time be be real, to fight, to walk, to long for the truth.
The real burning desire bought by death and forged by life. 
The real burning desire is a matter of heart.

Then I Was Clean

"Hey, baptize my mind
Hey, baptize my eyes
Hey, baptize my mind
For these seeds to give birth to life
First it must die"
                                              ~Jon Foreman

~Then I Was Clean~

Baptize me Oh Lord.

Baptize my mind, body, and soul.

Fire come down and burn my flesh.

Come down and dwell in me.

Baptize my being and my hopes will conform to you.

There needs to be a moment when I choose.

Where I choose to believe and put my hope in the afterlife and not this world. 

Baptize me Oh Lord, for your good, for your calling.

There needs to be a sense that boils over.

A fire that we become when you are around.

To be baptized by fire, and water.

Burn away the chaff and then wash it away.

Baptize me Oh Lord.

Baptize my mind, body, and soul.

Fire come down and burn my flesh.

Come down and dwell in me.

Become my world and let me be part of your life.

Become my world and let me be part of the other side. 

Become my world and let me be part of the bigger picture. 

Become my world and baptize me Oh Lord, my God.

Metal Fields

"Maybe I could wash clean
Yeah maybe I could wash clean ."
                                 ~Switchfoot

~Metal Fields~

Metal fields producing steel flowers.

Cold and beautiful, or hot and bright. 

Metal fields plowed by flesh.

Clawing and working by the means of a soul.

The metal grows and covers.

The fields produce fruit stronger than any before.

The workers tortured and flowers grow.

They think they have nothing left in their souls.

They have nothing left to leave.

Nothing left to give.

Nothing left to hurt.

Nothing left to love. 

They have no more than the metal man.

Neither hot or cold, but lukewarm in their hearts.

Metal fields ran by the metal man.

Cold and beautiful, or hot and bright. 

Metal fields fueled by smoldering heat.

Burning and searing by the means of the hot and cold.

Why not break free?

The metal heart stabbed by a thorn. 

Then turning back into flesh. 

This is the way.

Who will rise up?

There are metal fields across the land. 

With steel flowers grown by idle and trembling hands. 

The workers struggle while the metal man sleeps in his metal bed. 

Who will rise up?

Who will take the thorn?

Who will change the world one day at a time.

Metal fields producing steel flowers.

Cold and beautiful, or hot and bright. 

Metal fields plowed by flesh.

Clawing and working by the means of a soul.

What is left of that soul?

What is left to give?

In Death There can be Life

"All along I thought I was learning how to take

How to bend not how to break

How to live not how to cry

But really I've been learning how to die

I've been learning how to die"

                                                                     ~Jon Foreman

~In Death There Can be Life~

Worthy of all things that I do not deserve.
Blessed to be more than what I see for myself.
God is the One who is worthy of praise.
For He is the Lord that is stronger than the addictions of this world.

Break me oh God.
You are the fire that burns my strife.
Break me oh God.
You are the truth that punishes me for love. 

Worthy of all things that He says I should have.
Blessed to be more than this world has to offer.
God is the One who is worthy of glory.
For He is the Lord that is stronger than the pride of this world.

Break me oh God.
You are the fire that burns my soul.
Break me oh God.
You are the truth that disciplines my doubt.

In death there can be life.
In pain you can grow.
In life there can be death.
And in my life I want all three.
Burn me, break me, save me.
For you have more than this world has to offer.
Amen.

Emotion is Fine, but I Will Not Rely

~Emotion is Fine, but I Will Not Rely~

Sort it out on your sleeve.
Press on and die.
Patience and waiting.
Emotion means nothing without ones sleeve.

Take one step and do not look back.
Mind like a child innocent, and loud.
Take one step forward and do not look back.
Your sleeve will come with you, emotion soft and quiet.

Sort it out on your sleeve.
Press on and die.
Better to be yourself with emotion than a fake with it all.
Emotion is but one way to be who you are.

One, two, three let me be me.
Four, five, six walk in the wood's where the sticks will click.
Seven, eight, nine emotions are mostly fickle and that can be fine.

For...

I will sort it out on my sleeve.
I will press on and die being me.
I will have patience and wait while I pray.
I will be emotional but will not lean on me.

Press on and die.
Be true to yourself.
And believe what you believe.
For oneself can be it all, even when you fall.