The world is a wound that refuses to heal,
A cycle of sorrow, a spinning steel wheel.
Wars rage like tempests, the earth cracks in two,
But there’s nothing the Rapture can’t cure.

The hollow-eyed wander, the lost and the weak,
Their prayers turn to echoes too broken to speak.
Yet Heavens will open, the trumpet will roar—
And there’s nothing the Rapture can’t cure.

No more the hunger, the grief, or the pain,
No more the sinners who curse in the rain.
The light will descend, so perfect, so pure—
For there’s nothing the Rapture can’t cure.

For His Glory
MarkWaldrop

Inspired by a friend
Darlene Sowa KQ4NTV
“Theres nothing the Rapture can't cure”

Before the dawn could break the sky,
Your lovingkindness lifted high.
Through shadows deep and trials near,
Your mercy whispered, “I am here.”

A love that stoops to cleanse the dirt,
That binds the wounds and heals the hurt,
No height too great, no depth too far,
Your kindness shines—a guiding star.

When hearts grow cold and faith runs thin,
You pour Your grace and draw us in.
Unfailing love that does not sleep,
A Shepherd’s hand for wandering sheep.

You could have ruled with mighty hand,
But chose instead to understand—
To walk the earth, to taste our tears,
To calm the storms and quiet fears.

O Lord of mercy, rich and pure,
Your lovingkindness will endure.
From age to age, through darkest night,
It leads us home to perfect Light.

“Because Your lovingkindness is better than life, my lips shall praise You.”
—Psalm 63:3

For His Glory 
MarkWaldrop

 Beware of Emotions

Beware of emotions that will cause commotion,
Stirring the waters with reckless devotion.
A spark becomes fire, a word turns to war,
And feelings run wild like waves on the shore.

Anger and envy, they dance hand in hand,
While pride builds a castle too fragile to stand.
Fear feeds the storm, while doubt clouds the sky,
And peace is the treasure that quickly runs dry.

But wisdom stands watch with a calm, steady light,
Guiding the heart through the darkest of night.
So pause, take a breath when emotions run wild,
Let truth be your anchor, your spirit be mild.

For hearts ruled by chaos will stumble and fall 
Beware of emotions that answer the call.

For His Honor
MarkWaldrop

As intellectual as I try to be,
There’s no match for what the Spirit shows me.
Books and wisdom, degrees and thought,
Can’t touch the truth the Spirit has brought.

He speaks in whispers, yet shakes my soul,
Revealing what knowledge can’t make whole.
Not facts or theories, but love so divine,
A wisdom eternal, a holy design.

My mind may reason, my pride may swell,
But the Spirit speaks what no mind can tell.
In silence and prayer, His voice breaks through —
Pure revelation, both ancient and new.

So I lay down intellect, bow heart and knee,
For no wisdom compares to what the Spirit shows me.

To His Glory
MarkWaldrop

“As intellectual as I try to be
There is no comparison to how the Holy Spirit speaks to me.”
MarkWaldrop

Beware of emotions that spark wild commotion,
They’ll drown out your wisdom in reckless devotion.

Pro 29:11  Fools give full vent to their rage, but the wise bring calm in the end. 

To His Glory
MarkWaldrop

Our hearts are filled with worldly things,
With fleeting dreams and golden rings.
We chase the rush, the praise, the prize,
While Jesus waits with longing eyes.

We build our kingdoms, stack them high,
But still feel empty, wonder why.
We leave Him just a corner space,
A fleeting thought, a hurried grace.

Yet He who formed the earth and sky,
Still knocks upon the door nearby.
He asks for more than what’s left over —
He wants a heart that loves, wide open.

So clear the clutter, tear down the wall,
Make room for Christ — give Him it all.
For only when He fills the place,
Will peace move in, and love take space.

No treasure found, no fleeting thing,
Can match the joy that Christ will bring.
So empty out this crowded room,
And let His presence fully bloom.  


Mat 6:21  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. 


For His Glory
MarkWaldrop

“We cram into our hearts so much stuff that there is no room left for Christ.”
A. W. Tozer

     The Invitation

All are called, but few reply,
So many tasks before I die.
There’s always time — or so I say,
I’ll think of you another day.

After all, I cannot see
The One who whispers, “Come to me.”
My hands are full with things I see —
My world, my plans, my vanity.

But someday, maybe, when I’m free,
I’ll pause and finally turn to Thee.
Yet time moves fast, the door may close —
Will I respond before life goes?

“For many are called, but few are chosen.”
— Matthew 22:14

For His Glory
MarkWaldrop

It is said tears wash grief away,
The Creator planned it just that way.
Soft rain that falls from sorrowed eyes,
A gift from heaven to cleanse the skies.

Each tear that slips down trembling face,
Carries pain, yet leaves a trace—
Of love once held, now memory’s flame,
A gentle whisper of their name.

It teaches hearts to understand,
The ache that dwells in fellow man.
That we might kneel beside their pain,
And cry with them through storm and rain.

For shared tears hold a healing grace,
Like rivers flowing to embrace.
Grief divides, but tears unite—
In darkest hour, they bring the light.

So let them fall, both yours and mine,
In tears, God’s mercy intertwines.
And hand in hand, through night and day,
We’ll help each other wash grief away

Rom 12:15  Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep. 

 For His Glory
Mark Waldrop

If I do nothing, nothing is done,
No race is started, no prize is won.
God watches over, His eyes so clear,
But He placed my hands and feet down here.

He gave me breath, He gave me days,
A heart to work, a voice to praise.
He expects me to rise, to stand, to go,
To plant the seeds and help them grow.

Faith is trust, but faith must move,
In every step, His love will prove.
For prayers alone won’t build the wall —
He strengthens hands that answer the call.

So I will work, and I will pray,
Trusting Him to guide my way.
He walks beside, He leads ahead,
But I must rise from this old bed.

If I do nothing, nothing is done,
But with my Father, I’ll outrun the sun.
Together, we will walk this land —
My life, my work, all in His hand.

For His Honor
MarkWaldrop

I can’t wait to get on the road again,
To see the smiles of my dear friends.
Through miles and time, our hearts stay near,
Their voices like music I long to hear.

No treasure shines, no gold compares,
To the love a faithful friendship shares.
For friends are gifts — pure, tried, and true,
A glimpse of heaven in all we do.

So I’ll pack my bags, my heart so light,
Chasing laughter into the night.
For wealth may fade and fame will end 
But priceless is the heart of a friend.

For His Glory
MarkWaldrop