Isaiah saw the LORD on high
with seraphs 'round Him praising
and knew that he must surely die
but for God's altar brazen

If not for Jesus Christ the Lamb
we all would face hell's woe
but by His grace alone I am
made holy head to toe

So now my life is not my own
but purchased by the King
to make His gospel message known
and His glory forever sing!

religion should be about hope
not putting fear in other people's souls
should be about about peace
not about starting wars
about forgiveness
not about punishing innocent hearts

imagine all the people living life in peace

but how can one do this when bombs are thrown
instead of love
when moms cry
and children die
peace is impossible to be seen
when music dies and we hear only desperate hearts
praying
begging
wondering why.

we have different Gods and rules
our prayers sound different
our holy books are not the same
and
there are many sins in our souls
but
you're not God, nor am I
and none of us should play
the game of washing sins away
with spilled blood
and shed tears.

For you the woods, the moon
night paths, I breathe the air attuned
treading starlit, I sleep and dream
ever closer my love to you
bright from the sky like stars
ever into your arms I fall
and fall.

Watching the budding vine of petals unfurl
all through winter I am looking for spring
the daffodil yellow greens, the lilac blossoming
of tiny star flower florets, sweet the songbird chorus
moss softly sunning, the trickle of forest creeks running
the remembrance and fragrance, the pungent warmth of rain
drops, wet and round, bounced from trees, upon my face falling down
cool splash, the startling of my eyelash
wet washing and alive, the resurrection, the cycle
of all things again reborn.

ice sculpture trees,
silhouetted against the sun,
scattered from Fairie
on cold winter winds
bear fruits of icicles
as they die
back into reality.

What is this, Lord Jesus, that Thou shouldst make an end
Of all that I possess, and give Thyself to me?
So that there is nothing now to call my own
Save Thee; Thyself alone my treasure.
Taking all, Thou givest full measure of Thyself
With all things else eternal—
Things unlike the mouldly pelf by earth possessed.
But as to life and godliness, all things are mine
And in God's garments dressed I am;
With Thee, an heir to riches in the spheres divine.
Strange, I say, that suffering loss
I have so gained everything in getting
Me a friend who bore a cross.

                                         ~ Jim Elliot (1927-1956)