*The bird doesn't sing because it has an answer, but because it has a song. *

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Monday, February 12, 2007

Homeless, Chicago

This City is Our Home Photographs, Paintings and Essays by Homeless Youth in Chicago

This City is Our Home Photographs, Paintings and Essays by Homeless Youth in Chicago

This City is Our Home Photographs, Paintings and Essays by Homeless Youth in Chicago


Wednesday, January 03, 2007

http://www.dare2share.org/students/your-friends-are-trapped


Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Mockers stir up a city, but the wise turn away anger.

But you, Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.

If a ruler's anger rises against you, do not leave your post; calmness can lay great offenses to rest.

Do not be quickly provoked in your spirit, for anger resides in the lap of fools.                    (TNIV)

                      


Saturday, December 16, 2006

            Wait and You Will See Him

            Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried:
            Quietly, patiently, lovingly God replied.
            I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate,
            And the Master so gently said, "Child, you must wait."

            "WAIT? You say 'wait'," my indignant reply.
            "Lord, I need answers. I need to know why!
            Is Your hand shortened? Or have You not heard?
            By faith I have asked and am claiming Your Word.

            My future and all to which I can relate
            Hangs in the balance, and YOU tell me 'Wait'?
            B I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign,
            Or even a 'no' to which I can resign.

            And, Lord, You promised that if we believe
            We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
            And, Lord, I've been asking! I need a reply!"
            "Lord, I need answers. I need to know why!

            Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate
            As my Master replied once again, "You must wait".
            So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
            And grumbled to God, "So I'm waiting....for what?"

            He seemed, then, to kneel, and His eyes wept with mine,
            And He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
            I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
            I could raise the dead, cause the mountains to run.

            All you seek, I could give, and pleased you would be.
            You would have what you want...but you wouldn't know Me.
            You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint;
            You'd not know the power that I give to the faint;

            You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
            You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there;
            You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
            When darkness and silence were all you could see.

            You'd never experience the fullness of love
            As the peace of My Spirit descends like a dove;
            You'd know that I give and I save (for a start),
            But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart,

            The glow of My comfort late in the night,
            The faith that I give when you walk without sight,
            The depth that's beyond getting just what you asked
            Of an infinite God, who makes what you have last.

            You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,
            What it means that "My grace is sufficient for thee".
            Yes, your dreams for that loved one overnight would come true,
            But, Oh, the loss! if I lost what I am doing in you!

            So be silent, My child, and in time you will see
            That the greatest of gifts is to get to know Me.
            And though oft may My answers seem terribly late,
            My most precious answer of all is still, "WAIT".

such a good poem...thanks Kiara.


Friday, December 15, 2006

Walking in the Woods

Walking in the woods
I am often afraid to touch the bark of the old oak tree
to feel its rough texture

I'm afraid to face the question-
Is that real? Or is that just me?

I am attempted to embrace it hard
to press the prickly trunk into my chest
untill it hurts

so I can be closer
closer to the realness of things
to the realness of me

I am walking in the woods
I don't know where I am going

I think I hear the sound of the soft sandle feet
I'm sure I can hear it
somewhere

everywhere



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