Walking On Water

I'm struggling, can't see my way.
I hope to find the answer to clear my path.
My belief in myself wavers,
But then is when I see my faith shine like the dawn:
My Savior, my Guide keeps calling me,
Whispering my name.
"Lord if You are willing," I cry,
"Let me be blind no more."
A hand reaches out...


The boat rocks to and fro,
I look at the grey raining heavens and turn away,
As my glance crosses the sea,
He is there, walking my way.
Like a ghost, like a dream,
Telling me not to be afraid.
"Lord if it is You," I cry,
"Tell me to come to You on the water."
A hand waves and beckons...


Take my life
Take my will
Take my soul
Take all of me.
I am done with who I am
And how I am living.
Show me the way.
Change my life from the inside,
So I can have the courage to change the world around me.
Give me peace as I face the place I'm about to step.
I've made my choice,
Show me it's right.
Guide me in my new day.


I step out onto the cool water.
My feet feel the moisture that supports me.
I step again, and again.
But then I look up and see the storm.
My concentration shatters,
And the waves rise around me.
"Lord save me!" I cry,
And I sink.
A hands catches me...


"Why did you doubt?"
Came the whisper.
"I was here the whole time.
Why did you doubt?"
And the storm subsides...

How Can I Love You?

A poem.
In address to all gays, lesbians, transgenders, bisexuals, and queer.


I see their faces.
They're laughing at me.
Victory! they cry.
Their "rights" they proclaim.
So they rub it in my face.
And they attack everything I hold dear.
They claim it in love and tolerance.
They dance and sing in the streets.
They flaunt their happiness and "freedom."
But their words beat at me.
Their actions taunt my lifestyle.
Their violence towards my way of living
Saddens me.
How should I be expected
To love them and be nice to them,
When they do not treat me the same.
They claim that I hate them,
Because I see their actions as wrong.
They accuse me.
I'm supposed to love all people,
But I don't love them?
So strange I have become to you.
What has come of your sight?
Oh you wandering souls,
You who have sent my people into the minority?
Don't you see?
Can't you see that I do love you,
Wish you well,
Help you where I can?
I do not hate you.
But I cannot live the way you live.
I do not hate you.
I fight for you.
Everyday.
Where you have given up,
Still the battle wages on.
The pain you inflict on me,
When you laugh at me,
And demand I tell you why I hate you,
Is enough to kill one.
But still I live.
Because I have another, greater strength.
Still I fight for you.
Because I am a warrior of Love.
Still I love you.
Because the love is greater than me so I overflow.
Still I pray for you.
Because no matter how hard I try,
I cannot save you alone.
Nothing of me can change you.
Only the love of God alone.
Believe me,
I wish I could hate you.
Because you have hurt me,
And fight against me
And my way of living.
How I wish I could hate you.
But I cannot.
I love you.
Because God loves you through me.
I cannot live the way you live,
Though you would like me to.
I cannot give up. I cannot give in.
Because THIS is who I am.
I am a vessel of Jesus.
It is HE who loves you.
Listen to Him.
He is there.

What Is This Place?

What a funny mix of people.
A businessman alone because of divorce
His wife left and took the kids.
A young man in his early twenties
Covered in gauges and tattoos.
A handful of women with children
No wedding bands on their fingers
Or married with no man to speak of.
A young woman who used her beauty
To earn her wretched living.
What a funny mix of people.
A young man, smart and amiable to the world,
But addicted to porn and violence.
A young woman who smiles and sings,
But hides her self-inflicted scars.
An older man with drug history.
An older woman with no apparent reason to live.
What a funny mix of people.
They're all together.
And they're all singing in joy.
At the tops of their lungs.
Swaying, almost dancing.
What has come over them?
What is this place?
That they should gather,
So different and become as one?
All of them sick, hurt, needing.
Everyone has something to hide.
Everyone has a past, a regret.
All of them not trying to be righteous.
Not trying to be good.
Accepting their wrongs.
And taking forgiveness and healing.
They are all broken and lost.
And they see that and rise up.
What is this place?
All these people, all these sad stories.
But they have begun to truly live.
Their spirits were freed.
Their lives start anew.
What is this place?
Is this a hospital that there is healing?
Is this a home where all are welcome?
Is this a barracks where they are as one?
Yes.
And no.
These people are not religious.
They may or may not meet in a building.
But they recognize sin
And they recognize forgiveness.
They recognize where the true Love resides.
They recognize the King who came to end religion.
Faith and joy fill them.
They begin again.
What is this place?
This is the Church.


"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." - Matthew 11:28