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Waiting

  • Posted on September 30, 2009 at 5:28 pm
Waiting

Waiting

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly God replied.
I plead and I wept for a clue to my fate
And the Master so gently said, “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 I’m claiming your Word.

My future and all to which I relate,
Hangs in the balance, and You tell me to wait?
I’m needing a ‘yes’, a ‘ go-ahead’ sign.
Or even a ‘ no’ to which I’ll resign.

You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need to but ask, and we shall receive.
Lord, I’ve been asking, and this is my cry:
I’m weary of asking! I need a reply.

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,
As my Master replied again, “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 met 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 and cause the mountains to run.

I could give you all you seek and pleased you would be.
You’d 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 the 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 are all you can see.

You’d never experience the fullness of love,
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would 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 into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that’s beyond just getting what you ask,
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.

You’d never know should your pain quickly flee,
Wait. It means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But oh, what a loss, if I lost what I’m doing in you.

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

Yes, I am still waiting.
But wish to know the period of “WAIT”

Determination

  • Posted on September 22, 2009 at 8:54 am

The Brooklyn BridgeIn 1883, a creative engineer named John Roebling was inspired by an idea to build a spectacular bridge connecting New York with the Long Island. However bridge building experts throughout the world thought that this was an impossible feat and told Roebling to forget the idea. It just could not be done. It was not practical. It had never been done before.

Roebling could not ignore the vision he had in his mind of this bridge. He thought about it all the time and he knew deep in his heart that it could be done. He just had to share the dream with someone else. After much discussion and persuasion he managed to convince his son Washington, an up and coming engineer, that the bridge in fact could be built.

Working together for the first time, the father and son developed concepts of how it could be accomplished and how the obstacles could be overcome. With great excitement and inspiration, and the headiness of a wild challenge before them, they hired their crew and began to build their dream bridge.

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Just Five More Minutes

  • Posted on September 20, 2009 at 11:21 pm

Just five more minutesWhile at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground.

“That’s my son over there,” she said, pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide.

“He’s a fine looking boy” the man said. “That’s my daughter on the bike in the white dress.”

Then, looking at his watch, he called to his daughter. “What do you say we go, Melissa?”

Melissa pleaded, “Just five more minutes, Dad. Please? Just five more minutes.”

The man nodded and Melissa continued to ride her bike to her heart’s content. Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his daughter. “Time to go now?”

Again Melissa pleaded, “Five more minutes, Dad. Just five more minutes.”

The man smiled and said, “OK.”

“My, you certainly are a patient father,” the woman responded.

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I Can’t Remember Me

  • Posted on September 13, 2009 at 10:09 pm

Remember MeI don’t contemplate the future
I can’t recollect the past
Lost in the land of limbo
In a time that may not last

The days now pass before me
In an alternating blur
Confusion reigns within me
For a past that’s lost somewhere

I know I am, for I exist
The photographs don’t lie
Pictures of a life now lost
But I don’t remember why

I see a new life every hour
In a place that’s not the same
No hint of recognition
For turmoil is to blame

I write these words upon this page
For others now to see
But don’t ask me if I wrote them
As I can’t remember me.

I Love Every Word That You Say

  • Posted on September 13, 2009 at 10:07 pm

I Love YouNo matter what happened
Between me and you
You were always there
And showed me our love was true

I made you seem perfect
But you did hurt me before
I never told anyone
About that time you broke my heart

But no matter what you did
I always did forgive
I still believe in your loving words
That took away all my pain and hurt

Three years, five months
We were engaged
Even if I was young
For the future we could wait

So many times we lost our place
But it’s hard to be together
When we’re miles away
So maybe it was fate

Many nights I cried
And got on my knees
Making sure God listened
That I needed you next to me

Today I still love you
More than I ever did
But I guess the love you had
For me took a scary twist

I guess you found another
That is near you
It hurts because you didn’t say Goodbye
But I remember..
The last words you said were..

I Love You

My smile is not my truth

  • Posted on September 13, 2009 at 10:05 pm

Thinking Of YouSmiling is not my reality,
I smile to fool this world.
This is how I pretend to be,
But this is not the truth of my life.

Drowning in a flood of tears,
But tears are my destiny.
My vision a blur as I fulfill,
And this is how I meant to be.

As you regarded suicide as sin,
I am not against you my heart is pure.
Fate is mocking with an evil,
Grin,  surrounded in a blackness so deep.

I walk, I see, but survive no more,
I am dead inside, in darkness I weep.
You know I love you like ever before,
Forgive me as in my grave I lay.

Free me of this pain and let me die,
I just can’t bare it any more.

Life Is Like Prison Sometimes!

  • Posted on September 13, 2009 at 10:03 pm

Life is like a prison sometimesLife is a prison,
No one to listen,
To hear when you shout.

If you fall it don’t matter,
There’s no one to care.

Watching freedom is painful,
For those locked away.

Seeing joy, love and happiness,
Another price that you pay.

Hide the pain,
Carry on ,
Routine is the key.

Don’t let on that you’re not,
What you’re pretending to be.

Last page of my notebook

  • Posted on September 13, 2009 at 9:58 pm

Last page of my notebookWhenever any thought came into my mind,
I wrote it on the last page of my notebook.

Whenever the lectures were boring,
I played games, used to draw pictures
on the last page of my notebook.

When I was angry with anyone and
wanted to flood my anger,

I used the last page of my notebook.

When I discovered I was in love with him,
I shared my thoughts with the
Last page of my notebook.

When I was really wrong,
And I wanted to confess it to someone,
I told about it to last page of my notebook.

When I wanted not to forget some points taught by my teacher
I discussed it with the last page of my notebook.

Still many things are there to be written
on the last page of my notebook.

Butterfly

  • Posted on September 11, 2009 at 12:20 am

cocoonA man found a cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared. He sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through that little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could, and it could go no further.

So the man decided to help the butterfly. He took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon.

The butterfly then emerged easily. But it had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings.

The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract in time.

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