I
Every time I see you
I hang my head in shame
For all the selfish seasons
The times I was to blame

But you look back with love
A picture drawn of grace
Your friendship given freely
A smile on your face

Charity suffers long
The scriptures say; it's true
Charity is faithful
It's been lived out in you

II
A blessing I ask on friends so dear
When I need them they are near
To join in laughter or dry a tear
I know they will be here

Stepping into tights.

For a humble heart I ask
That I may complete this task
Purge my soul, take pride away
That I with joy might face each day
Give grace for every word I speak
And help me always to be meek
Help me show Your love to all
Lend me strength so I won't fall
Help me speak what's right and true
This shall be my prayer to You

Failure. That's my name. I have always been, and always will be, a failure. There is no changing that.
When I was a kid I failed at school. I failed at dance class. I failed to do my chores. I failed as a sister, I failed as a daughter, but the biggest failure of all was my failure as a Christian.

Ever since I can remember I have wanted to be a wife and mother. Even when I was two. I was obsessed with baby dolls. I even remember praying that God would turn my doll into a real live baby so that I could be a mommy. Of course that prayer was answered with a "no".

Not only can you rejoice but you ought to rejoice: you are commanded to rejoice. Always. Unconditionally. No circumstance forfeits the commandment to rejoice. Rejoice always, and again, rejoice.

We should never complain to God about the hard times we are experiencing but instead we should turn it into an opportunity to praise Him and thank Him.
Whom He loves He chastens. It's a refining fire. The dross is consumed and we are cleansed. So thank God for the fires and trials that He puts you through.
Do not attempt to quench the spirit.
2 Thessalonians 5:19 "Quench not the Spirit."
Indulging in the lust of the flesh and the lust of this world is a way to quench the spirit.
1 John 2:15-17

You’re not at all what I expected,
You’re a mystery to me,
A present wrapped undetected,
not placed beneath the tree.

We didn’t meet the way I planned,
all sparkle and romance.
We didn’t meet on moonlit sand
or even at a dance.

I waited for you to notice me,
all dressed up in blue.
But you were too busy to stop and see
the effort I made for you.

Later we met, all tousled and worn
with hair completely a mess,
in old t-shirts and jeans torn,
but the meeting itself: priceless.

the sky is bending,
warping, because
you left
and something in that
is wrong.

Pollution is tinting
the tops of houses
and bottoms of clouds
olive green and
starburst pink.

I think maybe
there is beauty
in the destruction,
like the rut
your tire dug
in the grass
of my front lawn.

sometimes I glance
out the window
and think of fixing it,
the damage.

But I don’t,
because that would erase
the last part of you
I can see.

I pulled into the drive and found a spot to park my car. I took the key out of the ignition and put it in my purse. I looked at my hands, palms up. They were shaking and sweating like crazy. I clenched them into fists to steady them and gritted my teeth.
"You can do this," I whispered to myself. "It'll be better this way."