Father, give us faith.
We love you, or say we do, when convenient,
Working hard to serve when visible, yet tending to lag when alone.

We so often complain about the complacency of others --
But truly are ourselves complacent.
We do not devote ourselves enough to your Word,
Either in reading or obeying.
We do not pray as we ought.
We do not trust you enough.
We do not find you our ultimate rest, instead idolizing other things.
We do not consider you worthy of our all.

Forgive us.

He thought it was the right answer
And so took his own life
His arm breathed an apology
For being dead inside

His friends take time to mourn for him
His family weeps with pain
Yet Alex our own broken loss
Should not have been your gain

The dominoes come crashing down
As air is filled with threats
Kids unstable, and razors sharp
Affect forgets regret

One death first, and then another
Your self inflicted loss
You curse your friend and your mother
Refuse to share your cross

This sand in our hands
Is slipping away
Our time for tomorrow
Taken up by today
The millennial downfall
Is our pride and false wisdom
Our obsession with highs
And our lack of true love
Productivity stems from caffeine
Willpower forgotten
Smitten with celebrities
Elevating internet fame
We see the world through a lens
Not knowing how to go get it
Conquered by lack of likes
We fall, defeated
Crushed by self-loathing
In comparison to others
We fall short in our eyes

I’m an introvert.
I get peopled out.
I need time to recharge.

I’m naturally shy.
I don’t like talking to
people I
don’t know.
I hate it when they
don’t say
anything—
it forces me to talk.

I’m prideful.
I want to be the best.
I want to excel
at whatever I do.
I want people’s good opinion.
So I hide the real me.

A little creature wanders by, is watched by gleaming eyes,
It stumbles on a sticky strand that brings its quick demise.
A flash of black, then ugly fangs are pointed at the prey
A spider full of cunning stealth, his meal he won’t delay.
And yet I wonder what would be if you and I would try
To see those creepy spiders through a different set of eyes.
If we looked for beauty and intelligent design,
Then maybe all those spiders we’d no longer undermine.

What is morality? How do we know what is right and what is wrong? Where did morality and moral standards come from? Or who made them, if anyone? I had never pondered these questions until I recently got the question to study, “Can morality exist without God?” It’s a rather tough question when you think of it. But through research, I’ve been able to come up with an answer. No set standard of morality can exist for everyone without the existence of God; in fact, the very presence of morality is rather an additional proof to the existence of God.

“Who is God?” the little girl asked. “What is he like?”

I had never been asked that question before. Uncertain, I paused.

“God lives up in heaven,” I answered, then hesitated. What did one tell to a little girl who had never heard of God? “He loves us very much, I guess. He made the world, and you and me.”

“I thought Mummy made me.” Frowning, she looked up at me with puzzled brown eyes.

Captain Aurelius Cassian held his breath. He prayed to Juno for a son for months after he was told of the pregnancy, and he sent incense to Jupiter for a princely fellow, Venus and Cupid for a boy of comely appearance, and Mars for a suitable warrior of Rome. He begged the gods for an heir.
Now, he waited for the result of his prayers.

When days are dead and skies are grey
When roads with dust are trodden down
When soil is hard as sunbaked clay
And once green grass is stiff and brown

When home is not but ash and dust
When children can no longer cry
When kindly friend has broken trust
And heart is now too tired to try

When mountain mist is turned to smoke
When clouds forever shade the earth
When dust that rises makes us choke
And child born is dead from birth

Just recently, I read a story on the news that caught my attention. It was about a teenage boy, who ran away from home. After using the money he had brought with him, he decided to start selling drugs and lived off of what he earned for several years. And when ruin found him, he slept outside, homeless and destitute. It was in this state that he asked himself what he was doing there and why he had run away from home; and he decided to go back.