Words for the Wailing Wall

This poem has a really amazing story behind it. I was sitting at Buon Giorno (the best coffee shop in the entire world), when God started speaking to me about the wailing wall. Now you must understand, some of my closest friends are going on a trip to Isreal -particularly Jerusalem- to pray over Isreal for its oppression and such. So, God tells me to start writing about something that I have very little knowledge of. I begin to write and all of the sudden my pen is practically flying across the page as God puts these words down:

The Lord will bring His laughter

He will dry the tears of the oppressed

From the days of sorrow

He will bring His rest

No more will you falter

Tears of joy are shed

Even through the desert

The shepherd’s sheep were fed

(So says the Lord)

“I fill the broken cisterns

I give to you new wine

Apart from me, no laughter

No joy apart from the vine

Weep not my beloved

I have heard your prayers

Wake up my beloved

In my joy you will share.”

So says the Lord

Rejoice Oh My Soul

From the pain of silence

My soul will not weep

Rejoice my soul, rejoice

His joy is my relief

I will lift my eyes

Take my heart from me

Into yours, Oh Lord

My heart has been set free

Peace to still an ocean

Sorrow cannot take

Tears of joy; a river

Gladness fills a lake

Sky has dried her tears

Light within her eye

No more draining tears

His words do not lie

In the Secret Place

In the secret place

Silence given song

Gentle voice of growing

Rushing river strong

Still; my heart yet quickens

Silence, oh my soul

Within me a wave

Gentle as it bold

Sing to me a song

Open up my ear

Whisper silent love songs

Draw me ever near

No presence as you give

-Even in the sun-

Who close his eyes by night

When you are just begun

Find me in the hollow

In the womb as old

Birth my heart anew

Speak and I am told

Find me as my lover

Embrace me as the bride

It is I you long for

Hold me at your side

Take me in your garden

Here I find your face

Grace me as a lover

In the secret place

A Peace of My Heart

Silence grows with grandeur

So follows my heart

Near the break of twilight

The sky: A work of art

To have glanced a sliver

An aspect of Your joy

Peace to carry onward

To heal what was destroyed

Weaken not, my soul

To come are brighter days

Hold this peace within

‘Till rise another day

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Joy to follow mourning;

Morning follow night

Distant, ever shining

Your hope is my delight

One heart to a lover

Held above my head

Hope to start anew

Peace to go unsaid

A broken heart as praise

Poured upon the floor

Falling into creases

I will wait once more

"Twenty Years" (by Augustana)

"Do you wanna see it

The place where I am free?

'Cause in my mind I need it

But you're nowhere near to me

Do you wanna see it

The place where I am free?

'Cause in my mind I've been there

But there's no one here but me..."

Better Than A Hallelujah

Sometime yesterday, I had an idea for a song about praise that I wanted to write. It was going to talk about how sometimes the cry of a broken heart is truer that upraised hands, but the words would not come out. So I do what I usually do at times like this, which is to just sit on it for a while and keep it in the back of my mind until (or if) I get any inspiration. I had just about forgotten about the whole idea when I opened iTunes and saw a new album by Amy Grant (I'm not a huge fan, but I was interested to know that she was still going). The name of the song was "better than a hallelujah", which I didn't find marveling until I listened to the lyrics:

God loves a lullaby

In a mothers tears in the dead of night

Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

God loves the drunkards cry,

The soldiers plea not to let him die

Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

We pour out our miseries

God just hears a melody

Beautiful the mess we are

The honest cries of breaking hearts

Are better than a Hallelujah.

The woman holding on for life,

The dying man giving up the fight

Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes

The tears of shame for what's been done,

The silence when the words won't come

Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

Better than a church bell ringing,

Better than a choir singing out, singing out.

I really don't know what to take from this, except that God is showing me something, but then again, I only found the song three minutes ago, so I might find more later. 

Praise

Praise is easily done on a bright day when the sun is shining and smiles come easily, at a time when you haven't a care in the world; who can deny that? Praise at its greatest is when you are at your least, when the blinds are closed and rain falls as the tears from your face. To lift your eyes to your father and seek hope in this time, knowing that He will save you even as all falls in around you, that is praise.

A Broken Hymn

A broken hymn from a broken man

I came to know you by your silent hand

When words could not come out

I sat alone, a weary shout

When will the sunshine light my face

I feel alone in this human race

All broken things must have their place

So here I lie, a broken vase

Sent to a desert with no sand

Yet all the same a parched and thirsty land

Sent out for work I cannot see

Chained to a God to be set free

When will the sunshine light my face

I feel alone in this human race

All broken things must have their place

So here I lie, a broken vase

On the mountainside a fire burns

Once to see its light never to return

Now lost to find my way back home

Silence shows I am not alone

Here comes the sunshine on my face

held apart from this human race

broken clay left in my place

set to look upon your face

On The Move

Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,

At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,

When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death

And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.

 ~C.S. Lewis, "the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe"~

Aslan is on the move...

"Remember Alice, the Vorpal Blade knows what it wants to do, you just have to hold on tight." -the Mad Hatter, Alice in Wonderland-