Broken-Hearted Renewed & Passionately Pursued.
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This is the picture for my week.. something to remember.
(via darkamiyetlovely)
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He painfully and willingly shed his blood with overwhelming love,
Even for those who don’t return the favour.
Freely he gave so much for us.
We don’t deserve it, but that’s the beauty of his grace.
We are offered new beginnings; a fresh start.
Someone to watch over us, and to guide us.
He shed his blood, so we don’t have to.
By his blood we are washed clean.
What can wash away my sins? Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Oh precious is the flow, that makes me white as snow.
No other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus. -
Oh how I’ve waited for today to come;
A day I never thought could arrive.
The mind has seen the depths of the night.
The eyes have seen death and destruction, miraculously evaded.
All swept away, with graceful beauty bringing nothing but awe-filled smiles.
Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.
- 2 Corinthians 3:17Nothing but the blood.
November 14th, 2011 -
Pain swirls like a tornado, sucking me in.
Tornadoes lift scraps effortlessly; throwing them aside.
Its mighty force sucks larger objects into the blackening vortex.
And using everything it has to pull the more rooted into destruction.
It feels like forever yet it passes.
To be rooted; firmly planted and reaching out.
To withstand the biggest storm, the strongest wind.
That’s what I desire.
Death and destruction may surround.
Forces suck like gravity.
Throwing obstacles in every direction.
But to withstand the storm;
To be the beauty among the broken, a shining example.
A proof of hope.
To be so firmly planted, nothing can uproot.
Solidly placed and constantly growing deeper,
Thickening the roots that if placed in the right soil,
Will flourish and withstand any pressure.
To be rooted; firmly planted and reaching out.
To withstand the biggest storm, the strongest wind.
That is what I desire.ov
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A velvet touch, seated suppression.
Innocent beginnings, sweet confession.
Moments slipping, a days end.
Recall a fragment, squandered friend. -
Father I so often fall.
I so often look to others, look to myself, and look to the ground renouncing hope.
Using every ounce of strength in what brings me down,
Instead of turning to what builds me up.
On the ground I cry out,
Fallen to pieces; broken.
Barely enough energy to move;
A soft sob, a gentle sigh.
Only words, soft as a whisper;
Daddy, please.
I’m so sorry.
Daddy, I don’t deserve it.
But please, give me the strength to move.
The strength to stand.
The strength to live, to love, and to feel for you.
To change hearts; to show you in every step.
Daddy, give me the strength to do your will.
To let each step be yours.
Powered and directed by you alone.
Daddy, give me strength.
Because I don’t have any more.
You alone, be my strength; bring me back home. -
Empty space, filling mind.
Running fast, a fleeing time.
Out of touch, slipping away.
Vacating soul, body begins decay.
Sounds race; Eyes follow the heedful space.
Jotting in speed, tormenting the minds unabiding triumph.
Lost grip.
Start to slip.
Fading away.
Body slows;
As what once could do would now be few.
Mind empties;
Once a reverie, now dwindling impression.
Sight fades;
Ebony smudges fill the space once descried.
Speech impairs.
An infelicitous dejection impedes elocution.
A notion passes my mind; an endeavour to extricate,
but the propitious bleak is far from liberation.
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You’re not insufficient.
Don’t doubt yourself.
You are a gift.
You are loved dearly.
And treasured incredibly.
He is holding you every step.
Guiding where you can’t see clear.
Arms stretched out in case you fall.
Gives you strength, when you don’t feel you have any at all.
Where WE are insufficient, HE is enough.
♥ -
Patrick and I…. we do well together. He brings light to my life.
