fall

On a sunny day, a blue house is a blue house,
a red Coca-cola truck: just a truck.
But on a quiet day,
when the rain has stolen color from the sky,
they are vibrant symphonies.

There is beauty in the trial
that is worth seeing,
and song in the quietness
to the listening ear.

Elisabeth Elliot is my hero. I should go old school and read the Bible more often.

"But how could I ever go to heaven? I'm naughty."
-12 year old kid

We should never grow out of our understanding that we're naughty. Even kids know this: We are in serious need of a Savior.

You were running well, why did you stop?


I'll be patient
child.

I'm always telling myself I'm not doing good enough.

Is it true? Or is it religion trying to stay around?

How do we rest in what we are doing while staying confident that it's not what we do that brings salvation? I know it has to go hand in hand, but I find it paradoxical.


"Return o faithless sons; I will heal your faithlessness." Jeremiah 3:22

some kind of something

She had a song and sang it well, a voice with words worth hearing
But others thought her song was weak and screamed with words overbearing.
Soon all she heard were screams, her song became so faint.
She tried to keep her song in the mind, but there all that kept were lies.

With desperate hope she turned to their screams and tried to scream along,
but she lost herself and her life in the noise, her voice became
silent.
No song to sing, no voice or scream. Just quiet and still, her apathy.

On a quiet day, she heard a voice that spoke as she once did.
It's sound was sweet, gracious, and "mercy from first to last"*,
It echoed the mystery from where her voice came and reminded her to rest.
"Be still sweet child, and follow ME, with grace I'll bring you home."

The song she had sung did not come from herself, or from the screams of strife.
but from her Maker's mouth came honey, with beauty and words for life.



Where do you get your song?