Mine eyes are set on eternity, but oft they seem to drift, For in mine heart, Heaven is far, due to my sin-created rift. I ache, I seek, I knock, I pray, Yet still, I cannot find. I want to do it all, but can't, For it is His work to do, not mine. My sin is present from womb to tomb, Oh, how I wish to be set free. I am yet blind, but oh, I pray that Thou may open mine eyes to see. Oh Lord, keep me, Wash me clean, of all mine iniquities. For what is worldly gain and accolades

I'm sitting in a coffee shop. I woke up at 5:30 am this morning and got on the 6:30 am bus. I sat on a quiet, dark bus and then stood in an almost-morning-rush-hour-but-not-just-yet-that-busy skytrain. I walked down the street at 7 am and watched as car headlights passed by. I could hear the sound of my heeled black ankle boots click and clack down the sidewalk as I crossed the streets. When the cars stopped at the red light, it was the sole sound on a silent fall morning. I

My God is a God of grace, He turns His face unto me. He is the Great Gardener, Whilst I am only a lowly vessel filled with dirt. He reaps, and sows, and planteth seeds, My Lord hath blessed me with new birth. Oh, forever will I sing to His praise! With a renewed will, filled with mirth. He hath plucked away all mine old weeds, Yet will I still mourn over mine filth. O Gracious One, who sent His Son, I thank Thee for all the works that Thou hast done. For Christ suffered from

backstory/content/info: this is going to sound so silly, but i think i may be my blog's most frequent reader. actually, im retracting the...

i recently did a free write for my forestry 150 class (hence the scholarly title hehe) and the prompt asked how i felt about...

i miss me. i miss who i used to be when i had time to make silly little rhymes that helped to release the sadness that i tend to bottle...