Healing

Was I One of "Those" Who Couldn't Recover?

You may be caught in an endless cycle of addiction, whether it be sex, drugs, alcohol, porn, relationships, food, whatever. Your heart is in the right place and you desperately want freedom from the bondage and slavery which is addiction. But the miracle has not happened. No matter how hard you try or how often or earnestly you call out to God the results are the same.

Do not loose heart! I too was caught in that very same vicious cycle. Even though I believed in God with all my heart and soul I could not find release from the cravings of addiction. No matter what I did or what I tried I would get sucked straight back into behaviors that I dreaded. It was a nightmare. There seemed no end to it. I felt weak, unworthy of God, useless, and ashamed.

Wilderness Living

On God's Green Earth I must confess
I much prefer the wilderness.
Cities, structured, hustling-bustling,
Dampen deep devotional rustlings.

Resound of pebble striking stream
Would disappear in cities' screams,
Subtly shifting shadows cast
Escape the urban blare and blast.

Then there are those, though corporate bound,
Crammed and jammed in crowded aisles,
Who yet are tuned to sweeter sound
That sifts through stunted, stifling styles.

Attention theirs is caught and held,
Tendered to a higher power,
Municipalities do their best
But fail all folk in final hour.

So whether jet or Walden Pond,
When you're immersed in worried ways,
Poseidon call bids you respond,
Kneeling, join the tide that prays.

Waters soon will lap your feet

God of Wonder

God of wonder
God of thunder
God who's under all we see

God of rising
Undisguising
Stripping down deceptive pleas

In our asking
Your unmasking
Makes us conscious of our state

Soon revealing
Sin congealing
Heal our hearts, renew our faith.

Everlasting to Everlasting

An awesome expanse by unrighteous unrippled
Senseless in sense that senses can't pry
The secrets
Souls defenseless, crippled
Crumple, defeated and fate decry.

Alpha, Omega
First and Last,
Thunderblast that bade creation,
Floats on wind through prodigal nations
Calling to all in whispering voice
Rustling the leaves where branches a choice.

Some will attend this internal cue
In transcension of senses, songs, pews,
Discerning how much is merely a ruse
A touch is reborn, the tactile eschewed.

Taste now the freedom of soul's release,
Soak in the sights of straightened streets,
Feel smooth gold that greet's the feet
So recently washed by Mild and Meek.

Smell the scent of burial garb
Discarded, hear chants of merry mob
Heartily singing 'round pearly gates,