Lord, be in my eyes.
Let me see beauty everywhere -
In earth and sea and sky,
And in the faces of my friends and family.
Lord, be in my ears.
Let me be deaf to harsh and cruel phrases.
Let me hear only pleasant words and lovely music
From the stars, the songs of birds,
And in the words of those around me.
Lord, be in my mouth.
Let me speak gently,thoughtfully,
And let me never speak an unkind word to hurt another.
Dear Lord, be in my hands.
Keep them ever gentle, kind and helpful.
Let them never be in anger raised against another,
But keep them ever ready to be used whenever needed
By stranger, friend or foe -
Then, Lord, be in my mind and heart.
Keep them clean and clear and open to receive Your word,
Ignoring hostility, intolerance and anger,
And helping me to know how best to love and serve You daily.
Whenever I see a blank white pad of paper I get an overwhelming urge to write, So I sharpen my pencils, make a clear space on the table, And sit while all coherent thought takes flight.
With ready pencil poised I sit, my mind a total blank - Where are those lofty noble thoughts divine That filled my mind this morning while I was in the shower And couldn't write a single blessed line?
Tonight while I am sleeping all those thoughts will come together, And I'll write a masterpiece the world will prize; A manuscript of high scholastic talent will be born To be lost forever when I wake at sunrise.
Today I heard them in the pre-dawn darkness, Their plaintive, poignant cries awakened me, Arousing primitive emotions in my breast. Earth-bound I longed to rise and follow them, Soaring wild and free through the crisp October air Across the windswept countryside toward sunrise.
What faith and courage they must have To make this arduous journey every year - Their strong wings beating through the air waves, Following their leader trustingly.
What prompts them, forcing them to leave their nesting grounds To ply uncharted skies? What guides them so unerringly to their destination? Who leads their leader - None but our own Heavenly Father, Guardian and Leader of us all.
I wonder what the good Lord had in mind When He created green tomato horn worms. Did He think them beautiful? They are a truly lovely color And all creatures great and small are beautiful to Him. Or was it their tenacity and strength that He admired? Their imposing size intimidates the birds And their prodigious appetites are something to behold.
They are a gardener's nightmare. I'm sure there must have been a twinkle in His eye When He envisioned our reaction to them. I know He had good reasons for putting them in my tomato patch But I do wonder what He really had in mind When He created them.
I thank the Lord for books that take me places I can never go in person; Books that grant my dearest wishes And fulfill romantic dreams of travel and adventure.
I thank the Lord for books that lift me high above the rest of mundane daily tasks; Books that help me soar on wings of joyous exultation to Shangri La; For books that take me to exotic lands - Australia, Egypt, Burma, Mandalay, The land of the Midnight Sun.
I thank the Lord for books that tell of strong, courageous people Whose selfless lives have made this world a better place to live; For books of travel in the Holy Land That let me wander reverently, vicariously, where Jesus walked.
And then I thank Him for the golden opportunity To live where I could learn to read these books; To live in freedom in a land where books are neither censored nor destroyed But made available to everyone who has the will To take advantage of this precious gift.
I went to the garden this morning when the sky was rosy with dawn Peace and serenity reigned supreme, the shadows of night were all gone.
The birds were raising their happy songs in joyous praise of the day; A breeze brought the fragrance of flowers to me from the meadow across the way.
I admired my neat row of vegetables in their dew-spangled shades of green; Awed by the fact that a few tiny seeds could produce this exotic scene.
I agree with the person far wiser than I Who cast pearls of wisdom abroad - There is no place on earth like the garden at dawn to make one feel closer to God.
She came to us, bright-eyed, vivacious; Brimming with enthusiasm, joyous and hopeful, As she faced her life of service to the Lord. But then what dreadful blasphemy she perpetrated - The service started a few minutes late! Oh horrors! And then, alas, the service of Communion - Passing bread from hand to hand - Oh mercy, what a dreadful sin - Were all hands clean? The meaning of the service lost completely to a few self-righteous souls. How many similar atrocities has she committed?
She loves us all just as we are, But she is only one small voice crying in a wilderness Of sanctimonious bigots And weak-kneed doubters floundering in the dark, Pulled first one way and then another By the hypocritical and baseless castigations Of a narrow-minded core of pseudo-Christians.
You who are doing this to her: What makes you think you are so perfect That you can sit in judgement of her work? Who among you is so pure as to be qualified To cast the first stone? Whoever you are stand up and be counted. And let the love and wisdom of our Lord Judge you justly.
Oh hypocrites! Instead of picking at the tiny flaws we might find in her, We should take a clear, unbiased look At our own closets' skeletons. If we can do this honestly we'll realize That we're not capable of judging her. Let us then be quiet and receptive As she strives to lead us closer to the Lord. If we cannot do this it's time to leave the church And try to find another.
She puts her mind and heart and soul Into her daily service to the Lord. She loves the Lord and tries with deep sincerity To follow in His footsteps. She loves her flock and tries so hard to please; But she is a human being, not a saint. Are we so perfect that we have the right To sit in judgment of her efforts as she tries to lead us?
There was but one completely perfect shepherd. He loved us all and loves us still, Imperfect as we are; But He was hated, criticized and finally crucified Because a few self-righteous, twisted souls Could not corrupt Him Or bend Him to their selfish wills.
Are we so different from that evil mob? Why must we treat our shepherdess so shamefully? May God be with her, strengthen her, uphold her; And help us see the light before it is too late.
A fine young man admits to being gay - He's fired from his job; Another, not allowed to serve his country, Is beaten, tortured, killed. So what if they were gay? It only means God made them just a little different.
God gave me brown eyes. Maybe yours are blue - Does that mean that I should punish you Because your eyes are not like mine?
Maybe you like apple pie with cheese - I like it plain; Your hair may be curly, mine is straight; Your skin is brown or black or yellow, Mine is white - How does that make either one of us superior?
God made us as we are - We are His children. He has good reasons for the differences. As yet we know not why, But some day we will know and understand.
Why should we hate and crucify each other Because we are not all alike? What a dull world this would be If we were all the same, clones of each other, In color, gender, creed, and preferences. Would we not then abuse and curse each other Because we were so bored with all the sameness?
Dark or light, tall or short, Gay or straight - God made us, every one. He loves us all just as we are. Who are we to question his omnipotence?
Woodsmoke and Cardamom 