Wonderstruck

In a quiet interlude, I sing
The rain inside goes pit-pat
Harmony seethes its way
Melancholy away

I stare into her eyes
Her beautiful eyes
They mesmerize me

Leaving me wonderstruck

A queen on her own,
Doth she falls,
Falls for me, enchanted
One so unworthy granted

I stare at her lips
Luscious, yet dreamingly sweet
I wonder why they mesmerize me
Leaves me wonderstruck

A kiss she blows
To my stomach, she says
That keeps my butterflies away

Rightly her I belay

And I meet her again
In my dreams, so true
She smiles and hugs
Yet I wonder wonderstruck

Our beginnings were humble
Or not, I hope not
Yet doth I fall for some so queenly
That I want to keep her so sweetly

I am a fool I say so, rightly so
That I don’t know what’s that
That what’s good for me
So here I lay, just wonderstruck

She accepts, my faults into
My wrongs and me too
My baggage she carries
And I so hers, I’m so hers

But lest none shall understand
A third lies in our land
One so mighty, yet so humble
That we call Him our King

This third became first, for both us and her
And we fell for Him
As we doth each other
Hence I say, I’m so wonderstruck

What we perceive as our future
Only the King knows

We wait in anticipation
Hoping that He shows

And I stare at her, again
One so lovely,
‘n I think you’re beautiful, darling
Kindly so, rightly too, I’m here, wonderstruck

The Temptation: Baking Stones in the Desert

Have you ever wondered why Jesus didn’t give us some sort of concrete proof for everything? Why did his entire mission and purpose end up on some scrappy old parchments? Jesus could have, at least, given some sort of irrefutable proof to silence all the skeptics, atheists and the lot. I’m sure that at any moment, he could’ve shut them up with some divine, dynamic, mind-altering, psychotropic knowledge; something undeniable and indubitable; to tilt things into God’s favor, to topple the odds and deaden all questions and theories. Which if I were Jesus I would’ve probably done and ashamed them all. As it is, for us, God is one so-called ‘concept’ that’s very easy to deny; we’re actually free to fly in the face of God.

God got on His knees

Bob Hamp

She hated herself, almost as much as she hated him. She had not always been the hating type. She had once been gentle and kind, but life had not been gentle and kind to her. Today, she hated that she had followed one more time. She had followed her fear, instead of her heart, and she had followed this man into this room, because of another set of empty promises, and smooth words. But all the kindness went away as soon as she had consented.

Once he had heard her “Yes” he looked at her differently. Suddenly his touch was not so much about her, as it was about him. He became rough with her as he led her into the back room. Moments ago, he had seemed so attentive, and almost thoughtful. It had all shifted when she nodded her head to his proposition. It was clear that when their encounter ended she would never see him again. That’s not what his words said earlier, but his actions and tone spoke louder than his words ever had.

He began roughly pulling at her clothing, and bodily moving her into a position of submission and weakness. She gave in, her heart breaking again into little pieces as she silently refused to stand up for herself. Her body and her heart were dying hundreds of tiny deaths, and she choked back everything that was true about herself. How had she ended up here again? But she knew the role she was supposed to play, and she gave in to the actress who had betrayed her before. This painfully familiar scene had played out before, and here she was again. Each act was familiar, and she knew her lines all too well.