Standing knee-deep in cold water, swiftly moving
Somehow I knew I lost something.
Wading waist-deep I saw a book there, in the river
Waiting for me to find it there.
I tried to read it, neck deep, treading water
The tide pulled me out to sea.
Then with water in my eyes
The words began to rise from their place.
They were beautiful and dread,
I reached for them and fed on each phrase.
They were honey on my lips
Then a bitter twist in my side.
I knew they’d lay me in my grave.
“Is there no one who could save me? ” I cried.
Sinking down deep through cold water and heavy silence,
Shadows stirring in the gloom.
What things lay sleeping down deep in the darkness?
Woke then to find me in my tomb.
Then with water in my eyes
The words began to rise from their place.
They were beautiful and dread
I reached for them and fed on each phrase.
They were honey on my lips
Then a bitter twist in my side.
I knew they’d lay me in my grave.
“Is there no one who could save me? ” I cried.
And when I lost all hope to look
Someone took that heavy book from my hands.
All it’s weight they set aside
After they had satisfied it’s demands.
I felt white and black reverse
And the lifting of a curse from my heart.
Then like one receiving sight
I beheld a brilliant light in the dark.
Let go of everything!
What is it that you are holding on to?
What will it matter when every
History book is consumed in the flames?
Soon it will be like you never existed,
Not a single soul will remember your name!
Everyone is flawed,
Everyone has a story to tell.
But every story has an ending,
So stop acting like there won’t be one!
(These bones are only, only temporary.
(Let go of all you know.)
You’re on your own, you’re not alone.
You’ll never be alone.)
These bones are temporary,
Let go of all you know.
(Let go of all you know.)
The destination lies ahead
And we are not alone.
We are not alone!
Forget then, live right now.
Everything rides on tomorrow.
When that day comes will you hear
“We’ll done, well done.”?
Your eternity is worth so much
More than their opinions of you.
Defined by not where you’ve been,
Knowing that you’ll be made new!
(These bones are only, only temporary.
(Let go of all you know.)
You’re on your own, you’re not alone.
You’ll never be alone.)
These bones are temporary,
Let go of all you know.
(Let go of all you know.)
The destination lies ahead
And we are not alone.
We are not alone!
(I can’t say the past
Will never get in the way.
Just remember,
All things come and go,
But they don’t mean a thing.
It’s not about what you have now,
It’s what you have in store.)
(Let go.
The destination lies ahead
And we are not alone.)
(It’s not about what you have now,
What do you have in store?)
When a man is getting better he understands more and more clearly the evil that is still left in him. When a man is getting worse, he understands his own badness less and less. A moderately bad man knows he is not very good: a thoroughly bad man thinks he is all right. This is common sense, really. You understand sleep when you are awake, not while you are sleeping. You can see mistakes in arithmetic when your mind is working properly: while you are making them you cannot see them. You can understand the nature of drunkenness when you are sober, not when you are drunk. Good
people know about both good and evil: bad people do not know about either. — C.S. Lewis
A Stick, A Carrot, and A String: My Favorite Christmas Song
My favorite Christmas song that isn’t a “christmas” song:
The Horse’s hay beneath His head; our Lord was born to a manger bed, that all whose wells run dry could drink of His supply.
To keep Him warm the Sheep drew near, so grateful for His coming here: “You’ve come with news of Grace, come to take my place!”
The Donkey whispered in His ear, “Child, in thirty-some-odd years, You’ll ride someone who looks like me, untriumphantly.”
While the Cardinals warbled a joyful song: “He’ll make right what man made wrong, bringing low the hills, that the valleys might be filled!”
Then “Child,” asked the birds, “well, aren’t they lovely words we sing?”
The tiny Baby lay there without saying anything.
At a distance stood a mangy Goat with crooked teeth and a matted coat, weary eyes and worn, chipped & twisted horns.
Thinking: “Maybe I’ll make friends some day with the cows in the pens and the Rambouillet, but for now I’ll keep away - I got nothin’ smart to say.”
But there’s a sign on the barn in the cabbage town: “WHEN THE RAIN PICKS UP AND THE SUN GOES DOWN, SINNERS, COME INSIDE!
WITH NO MONEY, COME AND BUY.
NO CLEVER TALK NOR GIFT TO BRING REQUIRES OUR LOWLY, LOVELY KING.
COME YOU EMPTY-HANDED, YOU DON’T NEED ANYTHING.”
And the night was cool and clear as glass with the sneaking Snake in the garden grass, as Deep cried out to Deep; the Disciples fast asleep.
And the snake perked up when he heard You ask: “if You’re willing that this cup might pass, We could find our way back home, maybe start a family all Our own…but does not the Father guide the Son?
Not my will but Yours be done!
What else here to do?
What else Me but You?”
And the Snake who’d held the world, a stick, a carrot and a string, was crushed beneath the Foot of Your not-wanting-anything.
by mewithoutYou.
I’m trying not to confuse being used with giving all I am.
But being used and giving everything I have are all I am.
So I’ll build a bridge with hollow bones, filled with hollow teeth
inside a hollow heart, with the insides carved
and let the blood in these veins freeze.
Let the water in these veins freeze and break and flood the dam.
We are all we have, this is all we need, hold on it may never end.
And I might have to drink my teeth again if I wash up on the coast.
So I’ll build a bridge with all that’s left, & not make any more new ghosts.
Show me your life, wide and bright, I hope that patience fills the seams.
Keep what’s inside dry and right, you arch the frame I’ll span the beams.
Our lives are a bridge for us to give and I want to build a better bridge
from every wrong we’ve done to each other. If I forgive will you forgive?
