Will The Broken Stand

Pieces fall
Like torrents of tears
Washing away
The dust of years

Can they be caught
Gathered in mercy's hands
Kept in safety
Will the broken stand

Lifted up
Like the guardians of time
Remembering a past
Promising a new sign

But can they be caught
Held in mercy's hands
Kept in safety
Will the broken stand


Broken spirits
Dust stirring, earth falling away
Spirits buried
Hidden beneath the concrete of civility

Stone faces
Wind blowing, glaciers crumbling
Spirits frozen
Invisible in sight of polite society

New lives
Hearts rousing, darkness fleeing
Spirits resurrected
Revealed by the light of the kingdom

The Box

If I give you the little black box

What will you do with it

If you look closely you will see no lid

There’s no key hole

It’s black like obsidian

Solid, heavy

What will you do with it

If I give  you the little black box

Will you out of frustration break it open

Will you crush it under your feet

Will you be surprised to find it empty

No treasure inside

What was hidden there gone

Crushed, poured out, trampled

Another heart dissolved into the earth

If I give you the little black box

What will you do with it


A choice is made

A heart broken

A life shattered

The tears of the Father water the earth

A choice is made

Self destruction wins

The earth shudders

The blood of the Son waters the earth

A choice is made

Life floods the darkness

Heaven and earth rejoice

The wind of the Spirit harvests the earth

The Poetry of Our Lives

The poetry of our lives

Like a tapestry woven with many colors

Dark colors woven without skill

Ugly streaks seemingly mar the design

But the master weaver takes over

Skillfully using each dark strand

Creating a beautiful multidimensional image

An image that is a reflection of himself

No darkness remaining – only light

Rainbows of color dancing from his smile

Displayed in the beautiful tapestry of our lives

(Tapestry Picture: This beautiful tapestry is from www.novica.com and is titled “Love’s Flight” created by Peruvian artisan Inka.)

Perpetual Optimist

IMG_9038As I was talking with someone the other day, he out of the blue called me a perpetual optimist.  He does not realize the irony in his statement.  Unknown to him, at one point in my life, a personality survey revealed that I was Eeyore.  Yes, it was a Winnie the Pooh personality test, but since I was actually wearing an Eeyore watch at the time, it seemed to be accurate.

So what has changed?  I was a Christian at the Eeyore stage, but obviously not a very victorious one.  Thankfully a shift occurred.  The best way that I can describe it is that I met the real Jesus Christ.  Not one cloaked in tradition and veiled by rules and regulations.  Not one who pointed an accusing finger at my faults.  But I met the one who said let me heal you, let me release you from bondage, and let me take you away from this life.

Did I straight away run into his arms of love and transformation?  No.  Too many  layers of hurts and betrayals still clouded my vision, and mistrust stood in the way.  But Jesus and Father God do not take our feeble “no” for a final answer.  Looking at the cross clearly demonstrates their commitment.  So slowly, step by step, Jesus has led knowing that eventually I would take the plunge into full abandonment.  I cannot say that I have fully reached that point of utter abandonment, but a perpetual optimist is a long way from Eeyore.  And I am not afraid of the plunge.

Song of Songs 4

The Passion Translation (TPT)

The Bridegroom-King

Listen, my dearest darling,
    you are so beautiful—you are beauty itself to me!
    Your eyes glisten with love,
    like gentle doves behind your veil.
    What devotion I see each time I gaze upon you.
    You are like a sacrifice ready to be offered.[a]
When I look at you,
    I see how you have taken my fruit and tasted my word.
    Your life has become clean and pure,
    like a lamb washed and newly shorn.
    You now show grace and balance with truth on display.
Your lips are as lovely as Rahab’s scarlet ribbon,[b]
    speaking mercy, speaking grace.
    The words of your mouth are as refreshing as an oasis.
    What pleasure you bring to me!
    I see your blushing cheeks
    opened like the halves of a pomegranate,[c]
    showing through your veil of tender meekness.
When I look at you,
    I see your inner strength, so stately and strong.
    You are as secure as David’s fortress.
    Your virtues and grace cause a thousand famous soldiers
    to surrender to your beauty.
Your pure faith and love rest over your heart
    as you nurture those who are yet infants.

The Shulamite

I’ve made up my mind.
    Until the darkness disappears and the dawn has fully come,
    in spite of shadows and fears,
    I will go to the mountaintop with you—
    the mountain of suffering love[d]
    and the hill of burning incense.
    Yes, I will be your bride.[e]

The Bridegroom-King

Every part of you is so beautiful, my darling.
    Perfect is your beauty, without flaw within.
Now you are ready, my bride,
    to come with me as we climb the highest peaks together.
    Come with me through the archway of trust.[f]
    We will look down[g]
    from the crest of the glistening mounts
    and from the summit of our sublime sanctuary.
    Together we will wage war
    in the lion’s den and the leopard’s lair
    as they watch nightly for their prey.
For you reach into my heart.
    With one flash of your eyes I am undone by your love,
    my beloved, my equal, my bride.
    You leave me breathless—
    I am overcome
    by merely a glance from your worshiping eyes,
    for you have stolen my heart.[h]
    I am held hostage by your love
    and by the graces of righteousness shining upon you.[i]
10 How satisfying to me, my equal, my bride.
    Your love is my finest wine—intoxicating and thrilling.
    And your sweet, perfumed praises—so exotic, so pleasing.
11 Your loving words are like the honeycomb to me;
    your tongue releases milk and honey,
    for I find the Promised Land flowing within you.[j]
    The fragrance of your worshiping love
    surrounds you with scented robes of white.[k]
12 My darling bride, my private paradise,
    fastened to my heart.
    A secret spring are you that no one else can have—
    my bubbling fountain hidden from public view.
    What a perfect partner to me now that I have you.
13–14 Your inward life is now sprouting, bringing forth fruit.
    What a beautiful paradise unfolds within you.[l]
    When I’m near you, I smell aromas of the finest spice,
    for many clusters of my exquisite fruit
    now grow within your inner garden.
    Here are the nine:
    pomegranates of passion,[m]
    henna from heaven,[n]
    spikenard so sweet,[o]
    saffron shining,[p]
    fragrant calamus from the cross,[q]
    sacred cinnamon,[r]
    branches of scented woods,[s]
    myrrh, like tears from a tree,[t]
    and aloe as eagles ascending.[u]
15 Your life flows into mine, pure as a garden spring.
    A well of living water springs up from within you,
    like a mountain brook flowing into my heart![v]

The Shulamite Bride

4:16–5:1  Then may your awakening breath
    blow upon my life until I am fully yours.
    Breathe upon me with your Spirit wind.
    Stir up the sweet spice of your life within me.
    Spare nothing as you make me your fruitful garden.
    Hold nothing back until I release your fragrance.
    Come walk with me as you walked
    with Adam in your paradise garden.[w]
    Come taste the fruits of your life in me.

The Bridegroom-King

I have come to you, my darling bride,
    for you are my paradise garden!

The Shulamite Bride

Come walk with me until I am fully yours.
    Come taste the fruits of your life in me.

A Word Painting

The following is a “picture” that is painted with words.  Because I don’t know what to really call it, I’ve simply titled it a “A Word Painting”.

This particular painting is called “Living Prior to…”  Since it is a relatively dark “painting”, lest someone think I am depressed or worst, I’ve also included an additional writing that reflects “Life After…”.

Living Prior to…

When the heart is wrapped in despair and there is no place to turn but inward, escapism consumes.  Dark lyrics strum through the mind, and the dance is mournful.  The only respite – bright fantasies woven in the mind’s eye as days fade and life slips by.  A facade of normality is maintained at an excruciatingly high cost.  Motions to appease a mad society are drawn from a motionless existence.  The end comes when the will to appease is vanquished and fantasy assumes reality.

I am Worship

Created by a Father

Loved by the Son

Filled with the Spirit

Surrounded  by wings of His glory

Smiled upon by creation

Overflowing with His love

Created for singing and dancing

I am Worship

Moments in His Presence (Journey)

My blessings come with no sorrow.  Trials come and I use them for your good, but I don’t harm you.  I don’t send catastrophe and destruction upon you.  So trust in me.  Be confident in your decisions and in my guidance.  What the world calls failure is just an opportunity to try something different.  So there is no fear in stepping out, taking risks, and trying.  I am not a father who demands perfection and criticizes my children.  I am a loving father who gently encourages and guides.  I work along side you and bring you to success.  So give me your heart – it is safe with me.  We will work together to fulfill your destiny.  I designed you equipped to accomplish all the things that I placed in your heart.  So don’t doubt that you will succeed.  We travel together always – fears, anxiety, doubt are powerless.  Simply hold my hand as we journey.  Hills and mountains will provide unimaginable vistas.  Valleys will be resting places with rivers of nourishment and fields of joy.  Be at peace with me, and let’s continue on the adventure.


There are journeys to

journeys through

and journeys from

There are journeys of remembering

and journeys of forgetting

There are journeys of discovering

and journeys of giving

Cherish each journey

Missing a journey is missing life


The movement of the hands has stopped

The incessant tick, tick, tock silent

Designed for a function no longer needed

But still adorned by craftsmanship and beauty 

Repurposed as a memory

Treasures and mystery dormant within

Frank Solanki

If you want to be a hero well just follow me

His Grace Is Enough

Setting you free logically through contextual interpretations.

Brave New Girl

A girl and her adventures

Mitch Teemley

The Power of Story

In My Father's House

"...that where I am you may be also." Jn.14:3

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