Every time you sin you are transported to the foot of the cross the quiet agony is there the smell of sweat, leather, earth, wood the taste of blood and tears Christ looks up and recognizes you, since you have been there before He will not ask why He knows …
I lay my “whys” before Your cross in worship kneeling, my mind too numb for thought, my heart beyond all feeling. And worshiping, realize that I in knowing You don’t need a “why”.
There are times when all I want to do is throw stones at the sun Times when my prayers are not answered, my dreams ignored When my understanding attacks my faith When scratching for knowledge digs up dust and marching through the motions is all I can offer When my …
My life is but a weaving between my Lord and me, I cannot choose the colours He works so steadily. Oft times He weaves in sorrow, and I, in foolish pride Forget He sees the upper, and I the underside. The dark threads are as needed in the Weaver’s skillful …
