Who Knows You Better?
Who Will Speak?
Temperance
Abide
There is a Trumpet
I Cried Too
Circumference
Snowdrift
Love -- Longsuffering and Free
Oh, Grace!
Who Knows You Better?
Isaiah 51:1 (KJV) Hearken to me, ye that follow after righteousness, ye that seek the LORD: look unto the rock whence ye are hewn, and to the hole of the pit whence ye are digged.
Here I am, the great I Am,
Present in the midst of the chill.
Here I am, the precious Lamb;
Ask of Me whatever you will.
Why do you worry? Why do you fret?
I am the Peacemaker and the Light;
I've paid the price and covered your debt;
I am the Word that will send them to flight.
Sing to Me of My strength and power,
For when all else fails, you know I can;
When you're weak, then it's your finest hour;
Who knows you better than the Creator of man?
Raise a banner on a mountain high
And proclaim My glory to the earth;
I am a cloud in the heat and fire in your night;
You've a new song for which to give birth.
Lift up your head and lift up your heart;
Lay all of your burdens on Me.
I'll open a door to a brand new start;
Listen. Listen while I set you free.
I breathe in you and move in your praise.
My heart beats throughout the land.
I'll honor your song and the banner you raise;
I give you the wisdom to understand.
I formed you and I make you whole.
Who knows you better than the Way?
I am your Maker, Lover of your soul;
You'll truly find Me there when you pray.
Isaiah 40:1-5 "Comfort, yes, comfort My people!" Says your God. "Speak comfort to Jerusalem, and cry out to her, that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned; for she has received from the LORD's hand double for all her sins."
The voice of one crying in the wilderness: "Prepare the way of the LORD; Make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be exalted and every mountain and hill brought low; The crooked places shall be made straight and the rough places smooth;
The glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together; for the mouth of the LORD has spoken."
Though I know His mercy
Has delivered me from death
And the grave,
That if I were truly punished,
I'd never have known the feel
Of His touch,
Or His grace,
Sometimes, it is as though
I've suffered double
For even every thought
That didn't line up with His Word,
Much less every wicked act
I have ever committed.
Yes, tell me!
Tell me that my warfare has ended!
Tell me that my iniquities are pardoned!
I've walked through so many valleys,
Afraid and alone.
I've been crushed by the mountains
That called themselves honorable.
Turning left, turning right,
Taking step after step
Backward,
My path has been continuously
Confusing,
Always circling back to the same trials,
Like a spider's web.
Note: Cleaning out a horn is like brushing your teeth; It’s a tedious little thing that must be done regularly. Sometimes, it can even be painful. But, in the long run, there are always regrets for not performing the task.
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I Corinthians 9:25-27 And every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown; but we an incorruptible. I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air: But I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway.
Oh, that I were a pianist;
I would manage to set this praise
to music, divine melody,
for there are no words
that do justice
to “Your Majesty”
that burns down deep
in my soul.
Oh, that I had mastered the violin;
How those strings would cry out
“Your Holiness”
when I turned the bow,
turning hearts
all across the earth
to seek Your wisdom,
Your mercy, and Your love.
John 10:28-29 I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand.
I am the power behind each rainy day:
And yes, the power behind the clear.
The clouds were never there to punish you;
I've always held you dear.
I’m still near.
I felt the pain every time you fell down;
I collected each tear in My palm.
I’m saving them for you like a treasure --
I’ll turn them all to song.
Child, be strong.
You must let the carnal man fall away now;
And tell the spirit man to arise.
To follow Me is not an easy thing,
Not even for the wise.
Let it rise.
I’ve gone to prepare a special place for you.
Dear, no one can snatch you from My hand.
Give your fears to Me so I can squash them --
Scatter them with the sand;
Yes, I can.
When evil generations all pass away,
I will sit you with Me -- at My side.
I’ll give you those tears back in diamonds.
I’ll call you My sweet bride.
Just abide.
I Thessalonians 4:16-17 For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever.
Have you truly repented?
Have you given your heart to Him?
Is He the Lord of your life?
Has His Light in you grown dim?
What would you do if you heard
a trumpet sound from far away?
Would you fall down on your knees?
Would you bow down to pray?
What would you do if you heard
a trumpet blow within the wind?
Are you sure you’ve a Savior
who would all your deeds defend?
Today, there is a trumpet
whose call is quite clear if you’ll hear;
“Come to Me, all you who’ve sinned.
Let your conscience not be seared.
I will wash you white as snow.
I’ll forget if you will repent.
I’ll dwell with you, where you are.”
It’s a sound that’s heaven sent.
Today, there is a trumpet.
Can you hear the voice of the One
who cries in the wilderness,
“The only Way's through the Son!”?
Luke 12:58-59 As you are going with your adversary to the magistrate, try hard to be reconciled to him on the way, or he may drag you off to the judge, and the judge turn you over to the officer, and the officer throw you into prison. I tell you, you will not get out until you have paid the last penny.
My nail-scarred hand still extends to you
much the way
it did that day
you weren't sure you wanted to live through.
I heard your cry, though weak, in the night.
I cried too
to see you through
when the cruelty stole your Light.
Every man has the will to choose
how they'll live
and what they'll give.
It's their choice whether to bless or bruise.
I want to turn your pain to gladness.
On the tree
that lifted Me,
lay all your burdens and your sadness.
To go from the constricting
grip of the grave
to the gentle embrace
of Life
has left me with a desperate need
to count my breaths,
to lengthen my strides;
Can I possibly
cover enough ground?
I don’t want to miss
a fraction of a moment.
Yet,
the circle
just doesn’t seem to change much
from “go” to “go”
and I tire of holding
my breath
for a “yes.”
If I should happen to see
tomorrow
with these eyes of flesh,
I want for but one thing:
the grace to sing
for joy
for this moment of life
alone,
regardless of the harsh realities
enclosed within my own personal circle.
I know not
the depths,
nor the heights
of the things He holds close
in His heart for me;
I’m certain
that were it possible
to measure the circumference
of His love,
its size would overwhelm me.
To know He loves me
enough to give me Life
is enough.
As complex
as it may all seem,
it is so simple --
I am surrounded,
embraced,
encircled,
enclosed
within the arms
of Love.
“A billion snowflakes fall
and I’ve counted them, every one.
But not one of them holds My heart,
nor did I give for them My Son.
Intricate are their details;
I formed and fashioned each one with care.
Each one of them is different somehow,
but not a single one has hair.
I’ve counted every one of yours.
I thought dark-brown was just right for you.
And those angel kisses on your nose --
Well, I painted them there too.
See the sparrows that play next door?
Those were My hands that put them there.
They don’t worry about tomorrow.
They never ask Me why or where.
But I’ve taken special pains for you;
I fashioned you with love divine.
You are precious, so precious to Me.
My daughter, you’re one of a kind...
just like that snowflake falling there --
Amidst a billion, its still unique.
Suspended in time, if just for a moment,
it may seem so fragile, so weak.
This wall protects the fragile places
in a heart broken too many times,
a spirit bruised too many times,
a soul shattered too many times.
But You, Father,
search the deep and hidden places
of my heart
and only You know how truly vulnerable
I am,
the wholeness of love
that rages below the surface
of what is,
in all actuality,
so thin that it's almost transparent.
If I can't be transparent,
how can I be loved?
I pray:
Help me.
Help me overcome
my fear of pain,
rejection and neglect
so I can be me,
whoever that is,
in all her fullness,
in all her reality,
in all her depths,
in all that free-spirited passion for life,
displaying all the colors
that lay hidden behind that wall
of faux protection.
How many times must I circle
this wall
before it crumbles,
at last,
away?
I'm digging deep,
so deep,
and I find here
a hint of faith --
faith so small,
but just enough
to finally shout
a shout
that's been silenced
by fear,
strong arms,
disappointment,
and shattered hope
after shattered hope...
A cry from the deep
and hidden places--
"HALLELUJAH!
GRACE!
GRACE!...
...Oh, Grace!"
Today,
at this hour,
at this glorious moment,
I am free.
I am me.
And I am beautiful.
