“And I saw a mighty angel proclaiming with a loud voice, ‘Who is worthy to open the scroll and break its seals?’” A pagan who worships dead gods and demons The son of troy is nowhere to be seen Lust for power, led by vain philosophies and evils The son of Greece is nowhere to
Who could have ever imagined the depths He would descend? From His Father's home, Father's throne, angels' gaze, heaven's dome, down, down, to the nether regions, home of men and Legions. Humble, He, to shame the mighty; meek at heart, not sightly. Further still now descends He down, bearing cross, wearing crown. Up He gets
I want to write something To a world that is in the process of losing To write about the greatest gain Greater than your worries and pain I want to use a wooden brush To draw a heart on dear old death Pouring out crimson ink A sprinkle of life no final death The certainty
The Race of Man born of the earth Proud and hardened humankind So sinful from our very birth Corrupted heart and soul and mind Abide we in our realm of sod Delight we in our frame of clay Dead in our deeds our spirits flawed Perfection came to make a way Yet there was such
There is a general principle of life that has become increasingly important to me (especially over the past year): Almost nothing that is valuable can be acquired without a corresponding cost. I say “almost nothing” simply because I haven’t thought through all the metaphysical implications of this statement. Perhaps this principle cannot be applied to
I was recently made aware of the passing of a former schoolmate from Junior High. We attended the same grade and had some common friends, but we were not personally close.
Oh Lord come quickly! Oh time draw near! We bear our cross through trials severe.
Ireland~800 AD The rich, melodious voices rose up together in unison. The high vaulted stone walls echoed and rebounded the graceful song. In the church, hundreds of candles lighted the vaulted chamber giving it a holy, almost ethereal beauty. One by one, the hooded monks walked slowly into the chapel, their chant filling the air.
The joy of delighting in God while the Spirit illumines Scripture:
ENDURANCE OF THE SAINTS: We must and will finish the race, upheld by a preserving grace.
