I've seen the sun shine---
Many sunny days,
And I've watched the storms roll in.
Yeah, and I've felt the rain.
Pre-chorus
But, hey, You're here beside me!
Your arms around me, guiding.
I won't despair;
I won't fear;
I'll just call out 'cause You're here!
Chorus
Yeah, You are near me.
You are near me.
You are near me... I'm never alone.
In a world of Hurt,
people filled with pain,
We find our hope in You, Lord,
Though the trials may stay.
Jesus, You're all I want.
You never promised an easy life:
Some days I'll still see the sun,
But some days I know it will hide.
(Pre-chorus)
---------
I wrote this song while feeling my sister's hurt after the adoption of a sweet baby girl did not go through. I'm hoping to record this soon to share... It has a lot of musical elements and might take awhile to record, so I'm intimidated to begin the process... we'll see!
I sometimes do very nerdy things... for my OWN benefit, I underlined a few verbs... ignore it if it's distracting you... or just enjoy being distracted for the moment! ?
Thanks for reading!
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
The Quiet
Ah, if I could hear Your voice
Just one more time, if I had a choice,
I'd ask to hear You sing.
Oh, to hear the Majesty
atop, even, the tallest tree!
I'd just awe, listening.
But I see You remain silent.
So I'll wait in the quiet.
------------
That's all I have of this song. I don't think there's anymore to it... not sure. I just wrote it a week and a half ago. When I say these words in private with God, they make me cry, though I'm well-aware that they might be absolutely frivolous to someone else. :)
I heard Him once. It was while I was at Judson. I was asleep, and I awoke so my dad calling my name. I ran to the doorway and said, "What?"
My dad was awake downstairs, and he said he didn't call me.
I went back to bed because it was well before time to get up.
I woke up to my name being called. It was my dad, so I went to the doorway and hollered back. I actually had to call twice because he was listening to the radio pretty loudly. He said he hadn't called me.
I went back to bed. My heart was racing, because it felt strange to be awaken by a pretend thing... I thought that maybe I was dreaming about him calling me or something. I couldn't fall back asleep, and I heard it one last time. I stood at the edge of the stairs, know my dad would call again if he did in the first place... He hadn't been the one who audibly said my name.
That day at Judson, in chapel, there was a guest performer. I don't have any idea who he was. He played the piano for us and sang some original songs. I remember I was sitting next to Matt in the balcony with his friends... I remember hating sitting up there...
And the man started the first of his songs whispering into the microphone, "Samuel...
"Samuel."
He played a little and said it again.
I remembered suddenly the strange events of the morning, and I wept.
That evening of the strange morning and the chapel guest, I told Matt how I had woken up. I don't know if I've ever told anyone else the entire story, this being one third of it, but I had a chance to hear God's voice, and I'm convinced of it. I just wish I knew what was happening at the time.
Now I would give anything to hear it again. I will hear it again. I just don't know when.
Sometimes I wonder what it means when the Bible says He sings over us. Did you ever wonder that? This song was formed out of a desire to hear Him again, and the curiosity of what it sounds like when He sings over us.
"Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight!"
Just one more time, if I had a choice,
I'd ask to hear You sing.
Oh, to hear the Majesty
atop, even, the tallest tree!
I'd just awe, listening.
But I see You remain silent.
So I'll wait in the quiet.
------------
That's all I have of this song. I don't think there's anymore to it... not sure. I just wrote it a week and a half ago. When I say these words in private with God, they make me cry, though I'm well-aware that they might be absolutely frivolous to someone else. :)
I heard Him once. It was while I was at Judson. I was asleep, and I awoke so my dad calling my name. I ran to the doorway and said, "What?"
My dad was awake downstairs, and he said he didn't call me.
I went back to bed because it was well before time to get up.
I woke up to my name being called. It was my dad, so I went to the doorway and hollered back. I actually had to call twice because he was listening to the radio pretty loudly. He said he hadn't called me.
I went back to bed. My heart was racing, because it felt strange to be awaken by a pretend thing... I thought that maybe I was dreaming about him calling me or something. I couldn't fall back asleep, and I heard it one last time. I stood at the edge of the stairs, know my dad would call again if he did in the first place... He hadn't been the one who audibly said my name.
That day at Judson, in chapel, there was a guest performer. I don't have any idea who he was. He played the piano for us and sang some original songs. I remember I was sitting next to Matt in the balcony with his friends... I remember hating sitting up there...
And the man started the first of his songs whispering into the microphone, "Samuel...
"Samuel."
He played a little and said it again.
I remembered suddenly the strange events of the morning, and I wept.
That evening of the strange morning and the chapel guest, I told Matt how I had woken up. I don't know if I've ever told anyone else the entire story, this being one third of it, but I had a chance to hear God's voice, and I'm convinced of it. I just wish I knew what was happening at the time.
Now I would give anything to hear it again. I will hear it again. I just don't know when.
Sometimes I wonder what it means when the Bible says He sings over us. Did you ever wonder that? This song was formed out of a desire to hear Him again, and the curiosity of what it sounds like when He sings over us.
"Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight!"
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Sometimes
I wrote a poem for a friend of mine recently... I thought I'd share it.
Sometimes the clouds are dark. Sometimes the rain is hard.
Sometimes the grass grows fast after you just clipped the yard.
Sometimes you eat baloney for 3 months in a row.
Sometimes you get ice storms---the sky never sends snow.
Sometimes the moths find the oatmeal and stay til they're tossed.
Sometimes you have to wear one earring because the other is lost.
Sometimes the pizza burns, and the smoke alarm reminds you.
Sometimes you have a day where you want no one to find you.
Sometimes means not always, because the sometimeses sometimes cease,
And that is why you, friend, have a crazy hope and peace----
You look past those bad times, and they blur in your view
And though they may get worse, even, you can't see that they grew
Because you look directly at the Bright and Morning Sun,
and you know the splendor that is soon to come.
It's not just right now, life isn't just today....
This life is like chaff the wind blows away.
The resurrection keeps us going when some times are rough,
Sometimes a reminder to remember isn't good enough.
But I hope that this small reminder helps just a bit
Because I want to help somehow as you endure all of it.
Sometimes the grass grows fast after you just clipped the yard.
Sometimes you eat baloney for 3 months in a row.
Sometimes you get ice storms---the sky never sends snow.
Sometimes the moths find the oatmeal and stay til they're tossed.
Sometimes you have to wear one earring because the other is lost.
Sometimes the pizza burns, and the smoke alarm reminds you.
Sometimes you have a day where you want no one to find you.
Sometimes means not always, because the sometimeses sometimes cease,
And that is why you, friend, have a crazy hope and peace----
You look past those bad times, and they blur in your view
And though they may get worse, even, you can't see that they grew
Because you look directly at the Bright and Morning Sun,
and you know the splendor that is soon to come.
It's not just right now, life isn't just today....
This life is like chaff the wind blows away.
The resurrection keeps us going when some times are rough,
Sometimes a reminder to remember isn't good enough.
But I hope that this small reminder helps just a bit
Because I want to help somehow as you endure all of it.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Waiting and Hoping as the Days Pass
Waiting and hoping as the days pass,
Staring and tapping on the dark glass.
Soon I will find that I'm no longer blind,
Lord, let that day come surprisingly fast.
Aching and longing for what is in store,
Mindful and grateful there is so much more.
My wordly desires thrown into the fire,
Then none will detract from the fact I am Yours.
Dripping and creaking--- deaf'ning sounds as I wait,
Peering and searching, I pursue the bait.
If You'd only return and fulfill what I yearn...
I can't help but feel that You're just slightly late.
Written September 8, 2010
Staring and tapping on the dark glass.
Soon I will find that I'm no longer blind,
Lord, let that day come surprisingly fast.
Aching and longing for what is in store,
Mindful and grateful there is so much more.
My wordly desires thrown into the fire,
Then none will detract from the fact I am Yours.
Dripping and creaking--- deaf'ning sounds as I wait,
Peering and searching, I pursue the bait.
If You'd only return and fulfill what I yearn...
I can't help but feel that You're just slightly late.
Written September 8, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
No Name Yet...
Some extra cash this week as I tithe,
and I think it's sacrifice.
But how can I talk of sacrifice
when You gave up Your throne and Your life?
This is my one request:
that You would not let me forget.
Everywhere I go I pray You'd protect me, Lord
and keep me from all harm,
But then on the other side, as I sing martyrs die,
and You've kept them close in Your arms.
This is my one request:
that You would not let me forget.
This is my one request:
that You would not let my comforts let me forget.
The candle burns; the wind it blows, and I'm afraid it will go out.
But still it burns, weak as it is. Lord, please, strengthen the flame with Your power.
This is my one request:
that You would not let Your church forget.
This is my one request:
that You would not let our comforts let us forget.
The candle burns; the wind it blows, and I'm afraid it will go out.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I'm so young that I really don't know what phases are vs. real passions/convictions. Right now I might just be in a phase where I think that the American Church--- in general--- misrepresents what Jesus ever said, what He did. I see these tendencies in me, where I want to believe that it is enough to live comfortably and say that I gave everything. Autumn is coming, and I want to decorate the house--- maybe even just a wreath on the door--- but is that what I should spend my money on? How did it come to be that these things are so important to me? To Americans? I am really struggling. This song was written while I was doing some introspection and reflection. I don't think, at least at this point in my life, that living comfortably--- the American Dream--- is in anyway what Christ intended.
Maybe this phase will pass.
and I think it's sacrifice.
But how can I talk of sacrifice
when You gave up Your throne and Your life?
This is my one request:
that You would not let me forget.
Everywhere I go I pray You'd protect me, Lord
and keep me from all harm,
But then on the other side, as I sing martyrs die,
and You've kept them close in Your arms.
This is my one request:
that You would not let me forget.
This is my one request:
that You would not let my comforts let me forget.
The candle burns; the wind it blows, and I'm afraid it will go out.
But still it burns, weak as it is. Lord, please, strengthen the flame with Your power.
This is my one request:
that You would not let Your church forget.
This is my one request:
that You would not let our comforts let us forget.
The candle burns; the wind it blows, and I'm afraid it will go out.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I'm so young that I really don't know what phases are vs. real passions/convictions. Right now I might just be in a phase where I think that the American Church--- in general--- misrepresents what Jesus ever said, what He did. I see these tendencies in me, where I want to believe that it is enough to live comfortably and say that I gave everything. Autumn is coming, and I want to decorate the house--- maybe even just a wreath on the door--- but is that what I should spend my money on? How did it come to be that these things are so important to me? To Americans? I am really struggling. This song was written while I was doing some introspection and reflection. I don't think, at least at this point in my life, that living comfortably--- the American Dream--- is in anyway what Christ intended.
Maybe this phase will pass.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
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