Be still, weary soul, and know He is near, God sees your struggle, your doubt, your fear. He knows you’re tired, He knows your fight, He watches you pressing on through the night.
He sees your heart, the effort you give, The way you endure, the way that you live. Though the future feels hazy, the path unclear, His hand is steady, His love sincere.
Be still and trust, for He has a way, A plan unfolding, though hidden today. He lights your steps, one by one, Guiding you gently until the race is won.
If you’re holding to faith, through trials untold, If you trust in His promise, both new and old, Know this: He’s with you, your hope and guide, In His perfect timing, He’ll provide.
So, be still, beloved, let worry cease, For God’s plan is love, His promise is peace.
At the end of the day, when the sun fades away, What truly remains is the life we portray. It’s not what we bought, the treasures or gold, But the bonds that we built, the stories we told.
It’s not what we got, the things we possess, But what we have shared in times of duress. Not the heights of our skill, our sharpness, or flair, But the strength of our character, the love that we bear.
It’s not in success, the applause or acclaim, But in lives we’ve uplifted, the hearts we’ve inflamed. It’s the difference we make, the lives we improve, The kindness we offer, the hearts that we soothe.
So live a life that matters, a life filled with grace, Let love be the light that time can’t erase. For at the day’s end, when all’s said and done, A life lived in love is a life truly won.
He sits by the court, headphones in place, A young man with no sight, but full of grace. The crowd roars loud, the sneakers squeak, The rhythm of basketball is the language he speaks.
His world isn’t painted in colors or light, For his eyes hold darkness, the absence of sight. But vision? Oh, vision runs wild and free, He sees the game as clearly as you or me.
He hears the dribble, the pass, the shot, Every movement, he knows the plot. Through sound and feel, he builds the frame, And with his words, he brings life to the game.
“The pass is swift, a no-look play! A step-back three—he’s on fire today!” He calls the action, each move, each run, The beauty of basketball, the art, the fun.
For sight may be lost, but vision’s a spark, It lights up the mind when the world feels dark. He doesn’t need eyes to see what’s real, His heart and his mind give him the feel.
Vision is knowing the story you tell, It’s hearing the rhythm and knowing it well. Sight is a gift, but it’s not the only way, To see the game and bring it to play.
So he paints the court with his vibrant words, A commentator whose voice is heard. For though he lacks sight, his vision is clear, And with every call, the crowd draws near.
Strolling down the walk along the barrier, by the sea, Reflections from the wet street cast their glow on me. The colossal coach lights pierce the night’s gentle veil, Guiding our steps along this shimmering trail.
On the other side, red maples weep their leaves, A fiery cascade beneath autumn’s eaves. The mist embraces us, soft and serene, A dreamlike world of golds and greens.
Just me and my honey, lost in the haze, Bound together through the fleeting days. The whispers of waves, the rhythm of time, Eternity captured in this moment sublime.
The pastels of dusk, a canvas divine, Etch their hues in this heart of mine. Forever entwined, like the sea and the sky, Strolling together as the world drifts by.
Thank You, God, for the promise of peace, For wars to wane and hatred to cease. In Your wisdom, may healing begin, Uniting all hearts, removing all sin.
Thank You, God, for Your steadfast love, A light unyielding from heaven above. Through trials and tears, it gently mends, A love eternal that never ends.
May swords be broken, the earth restored, And nations kneel to call You Lord. With every sunrise, Your mercy sends Hope for a world where conflict ends.
Thank You, God, for the grace You show, For teaching us how true love must grow. Your love endures, forever our friend, A bond unbroken, that will never end.
Their lives are brief, a fleeting spark, A lantern’s glow against the dark. You know the pain, it lies ahead, The day you’ll grieve, the tears you’ll shed.
Yet still, you open wide your heart, Accepting joy with every part. A wagging tail, a gentle paw, Their boundless love, their only law.
For dogs are honest, pure, and true, They live for now, for me and you. No promises of endless days, Just stolen moments, fleeting praise.
And so, you laugh, you chase, you run, You share their light beneath the sun. You love them knowing all too well, That time will toll its final bell.
But maybe in this fragile bond, We glimpse a truth to dwell upon: That love is worth its weight in pain, A fleeting joy, a sweet refrain.
For every loss, a lesson taught, To cherish life, the love it brought. A dog’s short life, a tender cost, A bittersweetness never lost.
So hold them close, these gifts divine, Their time is brief, but wholly mine. No lifelong ties, no grand charade Just love, unbroken, till they fade.
Created by MarkWaldrop
Inspired by Dean Koontz - The Darkest Evening of the Year
There’s no love like the love that a dog has for its boy, Pure and steadfast, a source of endless joy. By the country gate, in the soft twilight glow, The dog waits patiently, tail wagging slow.
Falling autumn leaves whisking in the wind, A golden dance where the day begins to dim. The air carries whispers of footsteps near, And the dog’s ears perk with a joy sincere.
Every rustle, every sound, a promise of return, As the fading sun sets the fields to burn. His eyes gleam bright, filled with trust so true, For a boy’s love is the world he knew.
When at last, the boy comes down the lane, The dog leaps forth, all heart, no restraint. Together they walk, the bond fully complete, Two souls united, where love and loyalty meet.
So by the country gate, through seasons and time, The dog will wait, his devotion sublime. For there’s no love like the love that a dog has for its boy, A love eternal, untouched by life’s ploy.
Through the stillness, a baritone calls, A voice that rises, and softly falls. With every note, a story unfolds, Of love unending, of grace that holds.
Then from the depths, a chorus swells, Two hundred pipers, their music tells— A tale of redemption, a hymn of might, A sound that pierces the soul’s dark night.
The bagpipes wail, their echoes soar, Through hearts and halls, forevermore. A haunting beauty, a sacred sound, That lifts the weary from earthly ground.
Amazing Grace, the timeless refrain, Of sins forgiven, of freedom’s gain. Its melody rings through the ages long, Uniting all in its holy song.
In unison, the pipes declare, The power of mercy, beyond compare. An ethereal power fills the space, A testament to God’s boundless grace.
And as the arena shakes with song, The hearts of many are carried along. For in that moment, heaven seems near, With every note so crystal clear.
A performance etched in time’s embrace, The sound, the spirit, of Amazing Grace.
Young or old, we leave this place, But not all enter Heaven’s grace. No angel’s wings are ours to claim, For only through Christ can we find His name.
A father’s prayer, though deep and true, Cannot bring Heaven’s gates to you. A church’s roll, a baptism’s rite, Won’t place your soul in eternal light.
No preacher’s words, no deeds of good, Can earn the way, though we think they could. The narrow path, the truth, the key, Lies in the words of John 14:6, you see.
For Jesus said, “I am the way, The truth, the life,” there’s no other way. Repent of sin, believe, obey, And walk with Him each passing day.
No treasures of earth, no worldly plan, Can save the soul of mortal man. But Christ’s strong hands can hold you fast, And guide you safely home at last.
So cling to Him, His grace, His love, And trust His promises from above. Your journey ends where faith begins, In Christ alone, forgiven of sin.
Created by MarkWaldrop
Jhn 14:6 Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.
