your belief system is the major indication
of what you can accomplish with positive validation
if you can see it, you can achieve
if you can perceive it, you can believe it
underachievers are always underestimating themselves
non-achievers are always looking for a handout and the most help
average achievers do only what is usually just required
but overachievers strive to realize their heart's desire
in The Bible Mark 6:5-6 are two of the saddest scriptures to me
it tells of the time when Jesus went to His birth place
to spread His Father's ministry
it is somewhat troubling to me when He could find there no relief
because the Nazarenes were in a mind set of utter unbelief
even though He had worked many miracles
in most every town he had ventured to
the citizens of Nazareth were unwilling to give Him His proper due
a showdown in Nazareth, Jesus trying to evangelize God's word
but they saw Him only as the carpenter's son attempting to do the absurd
the power of God can only manifest in an arena of positivity
it can not gown nor gravitate in an atmosphere of negativity
Jesus was rendered powerless, the passion in Him had subsided
because the unbelieving Nazarenes remained unyielding
and completely one-sided
there is a significant amount of unbelief
in many church congregations
where some are just sayers of the Word
and don't believe in the power of the consecration
it takes one drop of negativity
to yield a whole crop of unbelieveability
understand that the Living God can't work in anyone's life
if they are in a state of mind clouded by negativity and strife
there is nothing that can't be accomplished if you know this in your heart
that God can work miracles just believe in His powers from the start
for God can move mountains, He can make a river divide
His powers are omnipotent, just keep a positive attitude in mind
don't undermine God's purpose for you life, allow Him some control
don't underestimate what He can do for you, if you surrender to Him your soul
always look for the victory, don't settle for defeat or loss
use the power of your belief, the power of the blood, the crown and the cross
if you believe God can open doors
what more could you ask for
just believe with God that you can do it
just trust in Him and let Him prove it
just believe in the power that is Jesus Christ
and imagine what you can accomplish
if you just let Him work in your life
Copyright © louise nelson
His message to Mankind was divine love, much louder than
the desert wind hissing through the tall palm trees;
they heard Him, but sadly contempt built up when
they defiled the Temple by selling and trading instead of praying on their knees...
so Jesus got the whip and the lame and the blind cried out the word, " Hosanna! "
Christ was the faithful servant who was scourged, derided and crucified,
now, is the friend of all who believe in Him, not in a sinful world....
the Redeemer who carried the heavy cross to Calvary and died;
His resurrection was a victory over death making Him the eternal Lord!
Who besides Him is more worthy of God His Father, are we?
Anytime Jesus prayed, He finished that prayer with this holy word, " Hosanna! "
Nothing has changed...it was an unjust and mean world, and so it will be;
they lived for lust, power and money getting greedier than Judas who chose death;
find that good soul that resembles Jesus...is it that poor man who seeks mercy?
We can gather much gold, make him a crown and place it on his bruised head!
And while he sits there waiting for compassion, his feeble voice proclaims," Hosanna! "
All nations strive for supremacy, making useless and massive weapons so destructive,
they have no love for their neighbors...they hate peace and every beautiful place;
we have made it to this century...will others see a tomorrow not dark and delusive?
Pray like Jesus did and put your fate in the hands of the Almighty who's grace!
No joy or possession is greater than faith...get up, look up and shout, " Hosanna! "
Copyright © Andrew Crisci
The angels praised him,
the heavens rang.
How can I do less?
The shepherds marveled,
and spread the news.
How can I do less?
Wise men brought gifts
worthy of a King.
How can I do less?
My lips will praise him,
my heart will sing.
My soul will worship
my Savior and King.
Every chance, I tell
what he's done for me.
He died in agony,
hanging on that tree.
Celebrating his birth,
I give him my all.
How can I do less
when my Savior calls?
Copyright © Cona Adams
Trying prayer, realising
it doesn't stop right there.
You say a prayer and hope
that its enough, that your
words of love have reached
Heaven above. Just stop and
think how we have asked? Was
it behind a mask of sorrow and
shame.Thinking we are not good
enough to receive a blessed gain.
We have it all wrong as its what
Jesus has already done. None are
worthy its Gods free gift of grace.
So raise your head, truly open your
eyes. Look up and realise love does
have a face, thank you Jesus
Copyright © Andy Craig
—The Hymn of Women—
O Lord Son of God, you really are standing there after you have defeated the corrupted world with your tender flesh
O my Lord true Son of Man, you really are standing there after subdued by the wicked minds
O my Lord great soul, you who did not break the poor women’s
vulnerable heart, really are standing there with a compassionate
gesture after you have crossed over the abyss of death, the river
that the dark prince reigns
O Jesus the most precious name, when your flesh that is torn
and wounded turns into a glowing candle to shine the darkness
from the cross high above the prince of darkness kneels before you,
the flame of life in us burns forever as a candle light that never wanes or dies.
For you sinless blood cleanses us and your open wound eases our pain,
O my Lord; the horrifying shout on the cross now echoes in our heart
with the echo of great passion, the desperate cry that once pierced us quickly
now embraces our soul with the hug of great fervency
For the Lord of resurrection is standing there in the early morning soft sunlight,
for the king of glory the true life is standing before our very own eyes with open arms, our sorrow turns to joy, we celebrate
For your victory over death, the Lord, we praise your name ‘Christ Jesus’
we worship you the Lord of resurrection
Copyright © Su Ben
my king's fall is rise
my land is anon taken.
albion her age;as
arras on her skin.
the seas;our compact
let's not calm
the savior's hand,
she will for aye crave
for her not a bedlam;
she is sane.
the hidden truth;
channels in her cheeks
frail less chuff.
the lifeless mess;cloy
there wines of death;
there ciphers;there empty,
shut their tomb.
The wall of wails;
the rock that never fails
her swain eternal
remnant of no transgress.
truimph of her;
light in the cautel,
my messiah;so i break.
Copyright © Lavensin Emmanuel Winaro
On Grandma’s bedroom wall hung pencil sketches
To inspire me and draw me in, never fail
The hands in prayer our daily blessing fetches
The cuffs rolled back, work ready, in the detail
The fingerprint motif of light on hands
To give us notice we are unique – and His
Strong thumb accentuating Holy Bands
Steeple elongated fingers, preaching Bliss
On The Tree, He died for our earthly sins
(The cross marked in the veins of the left hand)
He wished to spare us the suffering since
Love and compassion, for which we should stand
Only in Truth can we realise beauty
The Hands setting the example of: “Thank Ye!
[Poetry form used: Sonnet]
If we do not live in Truth, a God given opportunity which we must embrace, then the beauty of all that we perceive will pass us by. ~ Su Crous
Inspired by: ‘Hands of an Apostle’ by Albrecht Durer: http://uploads4.wikipaintings.org/images/albrecht-durer/hands-of-an-apostle.jpg
DEPICTED IN THE ABOUT SECTION
Sponsor: Heather Ober
Contest Name: Famous Art |
Copyright © Suzette Richards
Making new friends, turning new
bends. Upon a steep mountain slope
focused on breaking old trends. We are
children of God all saved by the same grace.
We should all do the good Lords work, yet
that's not what gets us through heavens gates.
That my friend is believing in Jesus. Perfect man
and perfect God, our sinless saviour nailed our
sins to the cross
Copyright © Andy Craig
Born to this world, caused to live,
the dragon's hand of malice must meet you man;
To be only safe away from the strife in Jesus believe,
And this, only by prayer you can.
You are a target prey for the claws of death,
The bearer is cheeky and cunning a betrayer;
To flee from his fire, to have a free breath,
No way but by prayer.
Tempests are a threat and times are tough,
And lures wear guise to look like Lore;
To override the clouds and meet with Love,
Only by prayer you defeat the foe.
To give you Good and Mercy and Blessing and More,
To be a chosen child, a perfectly scoring player;
To anoint you with power to deal the devil a blow,
Nothing but prayer.
To heal your wounds and cover your scars,
To turn your sorrow into joy and peace;
To golden your all to glitter like stars,
Nothing but prayer can eternally lease.
To form you fit a Savior's bride,
And qualify thus for the Heavenly Layer;
At last to the Father with Jesus ride,
Nothing but Prayer.
Copyright © Willy Munyoki
(Part One) The first few hours.
I was just a ordinary man
caught up in the unruly throng,
The mob jeering and ranting
insults on the road along,
I pushed and shoved my way
through all the furore
to see what all the fuss and melee
was all about at the fore.
My heart shrunk as I eyed
in total dismay that ghastly sight,
From what befell my eyes, that Friday morn
befouling that dawning day with blight,
Was a Man sparsely clad, and bloodied soiled,
And about fifteen and a half hands tall,
His nut brown shoulder length hair
now caked and matted in disarray.
The way His hair and beard
was parted in the middle down
i knew that Man then
was belonging to the Nazarene Sect,
And brutally entwined upon His head
was a brambled thorny crown,
What more torturous and bestial
torment can a naked body be subject,
His body oozed and dripped sweat
all mixed with blood and grime,
And even more the gruesome
was the criss-cross lashes mark,
So visible, as He staggered along
on that arduous path that morning time,
Dragging a fifteen cubit long sycamore
torture-stake on His shoulder, bared stark.
His back bent and racked in obvious pain
bearing that one and a half hand in diameter log,
Then when, He stumbled in His stride
and before the Roman Centurion Him wanted to flog,
For that Man's wretched agony
and pain, I no longer could bear to stand,
Then in haste that Man to help
I shed my outer garments and tossed it to another man,
I stayed the Centurion's hand
and hoisted that stake upon my own broad back,
For I was Simon an Grecian man from Cyrene
and favoured arduous labourous toil,
When that frail worn-out Man turned
with blue-grey eyes and looked at me,
I saw in that look, relief and gratitude
then I knew, I did just right,
He sadly smiled as He said these words to me,
"Do you too now drink from this bitter cup?",
And added, "You shall indeed sip
its rim with Me to the end of time",
I knew Him then no ordinary, man could be
His voice so gentle and mild,
And I truly then wandered who this Man could be?
to suffer so cruelly, in the hands of man,
When He lightly placed His hand
upon my shoulder, I felt the load lightened,
as if I walked with a feather
on my back, and not His gruesome burden no more,
As we together trudged, on that path
that road, to Calvaria, that place of death,
I then knew that Man at my side
Was a Holy-man by His touch alone.
Copyright © Christopher Stopford
(Part3) Home, The Realization and Blessing,Finally.
Here where I reside in Cyrene in the country
of Cyrenaica later to be known as Libya, now in Africa
so far has the news hailed, to cheer me on,
For that Holy-man of Judaea never died
my days henceforth shone bright above for me,
They said too that He truly was a King
a Son from the Davidic Royal line,
A King without an earthly throne to sit upon.
But for me that Holy-man will forever be
A Prophet on High, a Son of God
so much more than, a mere earthly king,
And all this I say without a doubt in mind
for I was there, I felt His touch
I heard His words, I saw the look in His eyes
because of Him I tread this earth
so much the lighter now.
Now at the close of day and at my hearth
bathing in the warmth of the fires glow,
My thoughts are more and more upon
that Man of God, that man Jesus
whom I helped that awful day,
And I wander if He knows He has helped me more
than He will ever know for now I feel so
much closer and grateful to my God.
To my God whom I Worship every day
even more so, now that I have met His Son
His Son, who so has suffered, the the hand's of sinful man,
He suffered shame and degradation
all to redeem Men, all to show Man the Resurrectional Way,
All for Man's sake and for that day, I am so truly blessed,
And His words to me "You too will sip this cup
with Me unto the end of time", those words now seared into my soul.
Copyright © Christopher Stopford
—The Hymn of Angels—
From your eyes, do brush the tears off my daughters,
and go. O my poor daughters who seek the living among the dead,
go, because your Lord Jesus has risen, just as He has proclaimed
In the early morning sunlight that was still wet from the overnight dews
the Son of God who conquered death has left for the beach
by the Sea of Galilee. The Lord our Savior is now there at the beach
to count His own footmarks on the sand
For the desires to hold your hands before being ascended in air,
the Lord of resurrection is gone to the beach at the Sea of Gennesaret,
the sea which the Father’s wrath once roared and rose to huge waves
For the wishes to spend His little remaining earthly hour with you,
our Lord the Savior is gone to the Sea of Tiberias, the sea where
the ripples reflect sunbeam calmly in the daybreak sunlight by the shore
The Lord is awaiting you at the Sea of Galilee to recollect
His unforgettable memories, and to reassure His eternal love
before being returned to his throne in heaven above
Copyright © Su Ben
Have no fellowship with unfruitful dark black moors cold zephyr for now truth does spark a fire within the heart run far black dogs truth defeats feeds seething flesh to the hogs Lord punishes high ones coven’s of death trumpet of God host angels with one breath though they all gather for the last battle shiver satan for your own death rattles it will not stand serpents cast into fire Liars bewitch death’s end a molten mire So beware their snares the child only sleeps those who mutter and peep your sorceries keep as for me I know you have no keys so cry my King cometh God’s Word upon his thigh - Based upon Erlking, Der Erlkönig and his supernatural death
Copyright © John Beam
(Part 2) The Next Few Hours,Then Homeward.
To soon, the road an end did come
and I that dreaded stake to the ground did lay,
Where without ado, they laid that Holy-man down,
Over that stake and through both His hands
that they placed above His head, and home they drove
that awful iron spike, and not a murmur or cry
did that Holy-man uttered in pain, that morn,
Not even when they spiked His feet, apart to the post
Then three plagues in mockery was nailed to the post
above His hands, in the languages used most common
at the time, one in Latin, I read out to myself
reading, Iesus Nazarenus Rex ludaesrum,
Then below another in Greek and one in Aramaic,
The latter I could not read and spoke but a bit,
Now anger and rage was seething through my veins
away I had to flee, away from that gruesome scene.
Away I fled, a half league or more, I paused
my need to rest and myself to calm,
Never could I understand the bestiality's of man
there under a barren Olive tree, I laid me down
and soon asleep I fell, for the horror to escape,
It was the chill of the afternoon that woke me
in the haze of sleep I heard an anguished
cry, rendered from the heart in a voice loud,
In Aramaic, I could tell sounded clear
"Eli, Eli Lema Sabachthani"
which meant to me "My God, My God why have you
abandoned Me", and of a sudden the sky
grew dark and foreboding, and a lull fell over the land,
Enough now had I of ludaea, enough
of cruelty, and of mayhem rife, home-ward
I decided to steer my way, home to my land,
Just on a score of days I traveled
to my home, my family and land,
Now often as I work the fields and plough
I still feel His hand, His Holy hand
upon my shoulder, see His gentle smile
and His voice sweetly, coursing thro' my mind
"You too will sip this cup with Me
to the end of time", and indeed truly blessed I felt.
Now I have heard along the grape vine
that Holy-man was called Jesus by name
and that as His name implies, meaning
a Savant Saviour for all, that and much more He was.
And wonders of wonders they said
He rose from the dead, He never died
Praise God I said, He never died on
That torturous detested stake.
Copyright © Christopher Stopford
I do not know?
As approaching his fifty-fifth birthday this July thirteenth
We sit down for some extended sharing of thoughts and life
Borne within a place called Angels Camp his Father an inventor
Slash author actually and mother became one's own creation ? Time
Apart from beginning or matter their world, without end:
Copyright © Jeremy Street