Some days we toast with finest wine, A vintage sweet, aged well with time. The sun is warm, the skies are clear, And joy flows freely, year to year.
But then there come the aching days, Of pressing burdens, clouded grays. The joy once bottled now escapes We’re not sipping wine… we’re crushing grapes.
We feel the weight, the turning stone, The strain of striving all alone. Yet in the pressing, something brews A deeper strength, a grander view.
For God is working through the squeeze, Transforming bitter into peace. What seems like loss, He will refine Today’s crushed grapes are tomorrow’s wine.
So lift your heart, though hands may shake, There’s purpose in each bruise and break. The sweetest sips, the richest blends, Are born through trials—and grace that mends.
2Co 4:8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair
True peace does not come through handshake or deal, Through treaties signed with a political seal. It’s not in the halls where agendas are spun, But flows from the heart of the Holy One.
It’s not in the speeches or paper and pen, For peace made by man is broken again. No ceasefire lasts when hate’s still alive Only God’s Spirit can cause peace to thrive.
Diplomacy falters where pride has its way, But Christ brings a peace no world can betray. Not built on power, not bought with gold, But given in grace to the meek and the bold.
His peace calms the storm, stills every fear, Not just for a season, but year after year. Through faith in the cross and a soul made new, True peace is eternal, perfect, and true.
So don’t trust in nations to silence the strife Seek peace in the Savior, the Giver of Life.
Jhn 14:27 Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid
Dear God, I come with open hands, Not seeking crowns or high demands. But wisdom, Lord—that sacred light, To walk by faith and not by sight.
Give me the grace to kneel, not climb, To serve with joy, in Your good time. To listen more and speak much less, To count Your ways as righteousness.
Let not my pride cause me to fall, But humbly heed Your every call. For strength is found in bending low, Where living waters freely flow.
So guard my steps, my heart, my tongue, And keep me kind, though I am young. With wisdom’s lamp, make clear my way That I may not stumble, Lord, today.
Don’t be angry at God for the storm you face, He’s not the cause—but your refuge, your grace. The weight you bear, the tears you cry, He sees it all—He hears each sigh.
When life feels cruel, and hope seems small, He’s still your strength, the Lord of all. Though answers hide and pain runs deep, His promises are yours to keep.
He doesn’t promise skies of blue, But He’ll walk each darkened mile with you. Not every valley is meant to last, But faith will guide you through the past.l
So lift your eyes, though the way is rough, His grace is gentle, His love enough. Don’t let your heart turn cold or blind God’s not behind you… He walks in time.
Trust in Him when the night feels long, He’ll turn your sorrow into song. You’re not alone in what you do Hold on, dear soul… He’ll carry you through.
Isa 43:2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.
Violence begets violence—so cycles repeat, Old wounds reopen on every street. Anger returns where love once stood, And peace is buried beneath what “should.”
What must we do in a world torn apart, To mend the flesh and heal the heart? We cannot strike and hope for calm, Nor shout and pray for quiet balm.
We must begin where hatred ends With open hands and listening friends. With courage not to raise the fist, But build a world where none are missed.
We teach our children not with fear, But with the truth: all lives are dear. We speak for those who have no say, And walk with those cast far away.
Forgiveness is a heavy stone, But it can raise a brighter home. Justice wrapped in mercy’s thread Can weave new paths where blood once bled.
So what must we do? We choose to start With softer voice and braver heart. For peace is not a passive dream, But fierce and real—andours to redeem.
Don’t let the little things steal your peace Not every storm demands release. Some battles fade with silent grace, Not every slight needs to take first place.
This world is loud, with endless spin, But we don’t have to be sucked in. For though it’s soaked in sin and pride, We walk with One who’s by our side.
The headlines shout, the tempers flare, But truth still whispers in quiet prayer. If we would pause and kneel and pray, God will show us the narrow way.
Not in the chaos or the crowd, But in His Word—clear, strong, and loud. So guard your heart, keep spirit still, And trust His timing, trust His will.
Don’t major in the minor things, Or clip the grace your patience brings. Fix your eyes on things above Faith, endurance, hope, and love.
Let mercy win, let kindness lead, Let go of every lesser need. He’ll calm the waves, restore your view Just listen close… He’s guiding you.
In a quiet restaurant, a son brought his father, An elder man, weak, yet no burden to bother. With trembling hands, his meal he ate, Spilling crumbs that time would create.
The crowd around them whispered and stared, Faces twisted, but the son never cared. With patience and love, he bore no disdain, For he knew honor blooms where kindness remains.
He led his father to cleanse and refresh, Wiped food from his face, smoothed wrinkled dress. He combed gray hair with a gentle hand, Restored the dignity of this cherished man.
Returning to silence, the room stood still, The son paid calmly and cleared the bill. But as they turned, an elder arose, A stranger with wisdom the moment chose.
“Don’t you think you left something behind?” The son replied, “Nothing comes to mind.” With a smile, the stranger softly spoke, “A lesson, my friend, in every heart woke.
You’ve left a hope for fathers to see, And taught sons what honor truly can be.” The room, once loud, grew solemn and still, A truth resounding, a moment fulfilled.
For what greater tribute can a child impart, Than to care for the ones who first gave them heart? The elders who sacrificed, who paved the way, Deserve our respect every step of the day.
So cherish the hands that once held you tight, For in their care lies a beacon of light. A timeless bond, a love so true What they gave to us, we must return too.
