Are they tears that stain the grass in the morning?
Betrayal of a night long and cold?
Why the sparkle when morning sun rises?
Can sorrow and anguish really beauty hold?
How much time to transform pain?
Can tears become diamonds of worth?
Is there no shortcut to life and freedom
without the pain and struggle of birth?

So loved

I am so loved.

I am so unworthy of this love.

Yet He loves me still.

I am not loved because I deserve it, but because He deserves to have what He shed His own blood to purchase and redeem. I am ransomed with the most precious of currency. The villain set the ransom as high as he could see. He had the opportunity to name his price for the souls of the Kings treasure, and he set his sights on the life of the Life Giver. Did he reckon that I would not be considered worth that infinite value? He reckoned wrong. For the Prince of the kings of the earth stepped forward and pledged to pay the ransom. Did he hope that in the attempt the Prince would fail and he would gain not only the life of the Prince but hold still the life of the treasure upon whom he could carry out his hellish plans? He hoped in vain. Though for a while he held Life in his death grip, through the darkest night when hope slept in cold stillness, his triumph was not to endure. For when the morning came, the Prince broke the chains and rose up from the bowels of the earth victor.

This world is filled with touching love stories. Grand tales of brave acts for treasured loves. But they are nothing. They do not begin to reach the height of the love of my Prince for me. I know me. I know the depths of this sinful heart. And He knows it even better. Yet He came after me anyway. And He does again and again. He calls me His treasure.

Treasure.

To think of myself as anything less...it would require pronouncing the one who fought to the death and poured out His very blood as payment for me, a liar. In the face of such love what can I say? I am speechless. I am broken. All I can do is let Him love me. And that is all He wants.

Let me love you. Let my love transform you. I see you not as you are, but as what my love can make you. You are mine. And I delight to call you such. I am not ashamed of you. You are my treasure. And I love you.

He calls me His own. And I may call Him mine. And He has gone, but He will return. His one desire, to have me with Him where He is. He counts the days. Days unknown. Anticipating the day. The day on which He will come to take me, His treasure...home.

Here He comes

Riding on a white horse

To pull me out from the midst of my enemy

My faithful one

Here He comes

To vanquish His enemies

Fighting with a fierce love

A love stronger than death

My true one

Soft in the stillness of night

Gentle and quiet

His voice assured me again

Child I’m not finished yet

Let your heart rest

I won’t let you slip through my fingers

He holds me

Oh He holds me so closely

I am His

And by His grace He is mine

No power can loosen His grip on me

I’m so tightly held by His mighty love

Here He comes

Riding on a white horse

To pull me out from the midst of my enemy

My faithful one

Here He comes

To vanquish His enemies

Fighting with a fierce love

A love stronger than death

My true one

*Here He Comes

By: Melissa Otto

Album: Blue Sky

Lean Hard

Child of My love, lean hard,

And let Me feel the pressure of thy care;

I know thy burden, child. I shaped it;

Poised it in Mine Own hand; made no proportion

In its weight to thine unaided strength,

For even as I laid it on, I said,

'I shall be near, and while she leans on Me,

This burden shall be Mine, not hers;

So shall I keep My child within the circling arms

Of My Own love.' Here lay it down, nor fear

To impose it on a shoulder which upholds

The government of worlds. Yet closer come:

Thou art not near enough. I would embrace thy care;

So I might feel My child reposing on My breast.

Thou lovest Me? I knew it. Doubt not then;

But loving Me, lean hard.

From Streams in the Desert

By Mrs. L. B. Cowman - Missionary to China and Japan

Available on iTunes and highly recommended

"It depends whose hands it's in..."

An interesting poem I came across while looking for illustrations for my Bible study this evening...


IT DEPENDS WHOSE HANDS IT’S IN


A basketball in my hands is worth about $19
A basketball in Michael Jordan’s hands is
worth about $33 million
It depends whose hands it’s in


A baseball in my hands is worth about $6
A baseball in Mark McGuire’s hands is worth $19 million
It depends whose hands it’s in


A tennis racket is useless in my hands
A tennis racket in Pete Sampras’ hands
is a Wimbledon Championship
It depends whose hands it’s in


A rod in my hands will keep away a wild animal
A rod in Moses’ hands will part the mighty sea
It depends whose hands it’s in


A sling shot in my hands is a kid’s toy
A sling shot in David’s hand is a mighty weapon.
It depends whose hands it’s in


Two fish and 5 loaves of bread in my hands
is a couple of fish sandwiches.
Two fish and 5 loaves of bread in God’s
hands will feed thousands It depends whose hands it’s in


Nails in my hands might produce a birdhouse
Nails in Jesus Christ’s hands will produce
salvation for the entire world.
It depends whose hands it’s in


As you see now it depends whose hands it’s in.
So put your concerns, your worries, your fears,
your hopes, your dreams, your families and
your relationships in God’s hands because


It depends whose hands it’s in.


(Author Unknown)

"Only Room for One"

To Jesus Christ my life I give
my mind, my heart, my soul.
If I for Christ alone would live
I must all others forgo.

There is not room for two in me
an idol and my God.
For a time they struggled me to have
a battle fiercely fought.

My idols left me wounded
empty, filled with grief.
But when in my heart I let Jesus
'twas then that I had peace.

-Jenae Elizabeth 2011

Proudly introducing...

I am proud to introduce to you...

"Garden Loom"

...the blog of my dear mother, Diane Marie. It has already been graced with her insights and there is promise of many more gems to come. If you didn't know, God has made her a gifted poet. She has blessed and cheered many a heart with her tapestries of words, and now her blog will hold her collection of poems.

Come join me and watch her weave...

Fear the Lord...

"If there is any man who fears the Lord, he shall be shown the path that he should choose."
Psalm 25:12, NEB

What a beautiful promise! Where should we put our efforts then? Trying to decide which path to choose? Nay! Rather our striving should be to fear the Lord. And when the path through which He leads seems impassable, do not be dismayed. Only trust Him. Claim His promise and move forward.

"When we cannot see our way
Let us trust and still obey;
He who bids us forward go
Cannot fail the way to show.
Though the sea be deep and wide,
Though a passage seem denied,
Fearless let us still proceed,
Since the Lord vouchsafes to lead."
-Anonymous

"Rescue"

Oh dear God, please rescue me,

From my sin and misery.

I am wretched, poor and blind. (Rev 3:17)

Righteousness, there's none of mine. (Is 64:6)

Come and take this stony heart, (Ez 36:26)

Remove it, God, break every part. (Mat 21:42, 44)

Please break down the high stone walls.

Please don't stop until they fall.

Pride and anger, lazy bones.

Please remove them from their thrones.

Make a change, oh God, within,

Till I'm free from every sin.(Is 1:18)

So tired, ready to give up.

But I must hold on, I cannot stop. (Gal 6:9)

My only hope, God, rests in Thee. (Ps 62:5)

You promised You'd come rescue me. (Ps 119:170)

Worn out, battered, week and bruised,

Behind me, the devil still pursues.

The world is cold, no place to hide,

No one in whom I can confide.

But then I see you run towards me (Ps 38:22)

I crumble helpless to my knees.

And just as he with hellish breath,

Closes in to bring me death, (1 Pet 5:8)

You step between and take the blow.

A standard raised o’re me does flow. (Is 59:19)

“Touch her not, for she is Mine.

Her name engraved on my hands you’ll find. (Is 49:16)

She may have many  faults of character,

A failure be in her endeavors.

But she with sorrow has repented,

I have forgiven and her accepted.” (John 6:37) {PK 589.1}

I run to You and there I'm safe.

A strong defense, a resting place. (Ps 59:16, 17)

A Rock where safely I can hide. (Ps 61:3)

A place no enemy can find. (Ps 31:2)

Your voice I hear, I know it's true.

"I love you, child, I've rescued you."

Oh what love! How wide, how deep?

With tears, a flood of praise I weep.

Safe within your arms, I’m free.

You are my Prince, You’ve rescued me.

{commenced 12/18/08 | completed 1/26/10} 

"Fly on My wings"

God Whose hand a galaxy sways,

Bend Your ear now as I pray.

Though in me no good is found,

I touch my face to holy ground.

Within this universe so big,

How did You hear the tiny twig,

That cracked beneath my plodding feet,

As my way I made to this retreat?

Now to my knees I trembling fall.

The sky engulfs my silent call.

Why Your attention's drawn to me,

I'll never know, I cannot conceive.

Though a host of demons try

With doubts and fears to mute my cry,

Somehow my heart believes You're there,

Though why, I see not, You want to care.

Oh God, why me, this wretched child?

For I Your plan now have defiled.

For one so wretched as I am,

You should have struck out of Your plan.

 Though You knew no one would care,

And they, Your justice, think was fair.

Yet still with love and gentle hand,

As though n'one else in line doth stand,

You shape and mold the broken heart

Into a yet more wondrous work of art.

As though the authentic score this is,

The song plays on, no beat is missed.

My selfish strokes, my discordant notes,

With unrivaled skill into chords You wrote.

But as the measures die away,

I hear the melody I played.

My faults are not without reward,

For He is pierced with my discord.

And when the justice blow is fallen, 

The universe is silent, solemn.

For it was Love You chose to give.

Sent Him to die and let me live.

So now upon the Rock I'm broken.

Naught of my love is left a token.

I long to rise above the flesh,

To breathe in deeply Love's air a fresh.

With my tears the ground is moist.

Your way now I want to be my choice.

But I have no strength, I'm scared to try.

You whisper, "On My wings you'll fly."


-Jenae Elizabeth 1/2010