Your Song
The poet is but a melodic mute
Without trials that stir up rhyme
The writer has nothing to say
If Jesus has not been given his time.
The poet is but a melodic mute
Without trials that stir up rhyme
The writer has nothing to say
If Jesus has not been given his time.
Christ, He is my treasure
Through every kind of weather
I’m more of a nobody than I’ve ever been
And I honestly love the view.
Luke 8:17 For there is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed, and nothing concealed that will not be made known and brought to light.
Seek first the Kingdom and His righteousness.
This is your first duty, and the supernatural Holy Spirit’s job is to lead you where He is taking you, which is not always entirely where you actually want to go.
I watched a leaf upon a tree As it came and neared to me And suddenly I realized Its beating heart had seen the Christ. I grinned as I did say, “Oh Lord All creation does praise you more
Why are you angry at that pained soul
Perhaps it’s a heart you should get to know
Before that judgment causes grief
For one who is already needing peace.
And I will put this third into the fire, and refine them as one refines silver, and test them as gold is tested. They will call upon my name, and I will answer them. I will say, ‘They are my people’; and they will say, ‘The Lord is my God.’” (Zechariah 13:9)
There is such a safe place with Christ Jesus. His feathered wings (psalm 91) are the best shelter from storms I’ve ever known.
We’ve traded the anointing
For man-made applause
Impotent of power
While quoting the clause.