“You see, boy,” the old man said with a sigh, A faraway glimmer still deep in his eye, “Once in a man’s life, if he’s lucky, he’ll find A love that stays etched in the heart and the mind.
Not the kind folks write in a song or a book, But the kind that you feel with one single look— The kind that don’t speak, but somehow still knows, That walks by your side wherever life goes.
I found it once, long before you were born, In a shaggy ol’ mutt I rescued one storm. She weren’t much to see, not fancy or grand, But Lord, she was loyal and sweet as the land.
She’d wait at the door, rain or shine, night or day, And follow me close every step of the way. Knew what I felt ’fore I’d utter a word— A love like that, boy, it’s felt more than heard.
Now some men get two shots, but most get just one, And when that love leaves, well, the shine leaves the sun. But once is enough, if you hold it just right— Don’t blink, don’t waste it, don’t lose it to night.
So listen real close and remember this true: When love lays its hands on the soul inside you, Don’t ever take it for granted, not once— That kind of love don’t come back more than once.”
(Christ Offers Forgiveness For Everyone Everywhere)
A morning cup, so warm and deep, Awakes the soul from gentle sleep. But greater still than beans we brew, Is grace that flows from One so true.
Christ offers more than daily cheer, Over sin, He draws us near. Forgiveness poured without delay, For hearts that turn and humbly pray.
Everyone—yes, all who fall, Everywhere—He calls them all. No need to earn, no price to pay, Just drink of Him and start your day.
So sip your cup and raise your eyes, To Christ, who heard our hopeless cries. For in each breath, each dawn we share, His love is strong. His grace is there.
There can be no crown without the fight, No dawn without the darkest night. The path to triumph, bold and true, Is lined with trials you must walk through.
No mountain moved by silent plea, No Red Sea parts without the sea. The strength you seek, the faith you gain, Is forged through fire, through storm and strain.
For victory is not just given, It’s in the wrestling, bruised but driven. In weary steps and tear-stained eyes, Where prayers rise up and hopes arise.
So when the battle makes you bend, Remember this is not the end. Each scar you bear, each cry you make, Is proof of ground you dared to take.
God never wastes the war you face He turns your struggle into grace. And when you stand where fear once reigned, You’ll know what every storm contained:
No triumph comes on peaceful breeze— It’s born through wars fought on your knees. There is no victory, proud and bright, Without a battle… without a fight.
For His Honor and Glory MarkWaldrop
Jas 1:12 Blessed is the man that endureth temptation: for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love him.
Good is kind, and good is fair, It smiles and settles everywhere. It keeps you safe, it soothes your pride, And says, “No need to step outside.”
It whispers, “This is good enough Why strive for more? Why choose the rough?” It pats your back and blocks the door That leads to better, leads to more.
But deep inside, your spirit knows, That comfort’s not where greatness grows. The best is born where good lets go Where faith steps out and courage shows.
For “good” will let your fire sleep, And dreams once bright will cease to leap. But “best” will wake the soul within, And push you past where you have been.
Don’t settle in the comfort zone, Where average builds its sleepy throne. There’s purpose waiting up ahead Where good is gone, and best is led.
So choose the path that few request, And leave behind what’s good… For best.
There’s a payday coming soon, Beneath the sun, beneath the moon. Will my hands show work well done, Or empty fields beneath the Son?
Have I toiled on rocky ground, Casting seeds where none are found? Or did I tend with love and care, Watering souls in earnest prayer?
Did I labor for my own gain, Or seek His glory through joy and pain? Were my hands quick to serve and give, Did my heart reflect how Christ would live?
When payday comes, will the Master say, “Well done, My child, you found My way”? Or will I stand with head bowed low, Wishing I had more to show?
The time is now, the harvest near, To work with faith, not doubt or fear. For when that final call is made, Only His judgment will never fade.
For His Honor and Glory MarkWaldrop
Mat 25:23 His lord said unto him, Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.
When shadows fall and doubts draw near, When hearts are heavy, full of fear, I lift my eyes beyond the haze, And find my strength in God’s sure ways.
The world may shake, the storms may rise, But peace is found in Heaven’s eyes. For every worry, whispered prayer, Our Father bends to meet us there.
“When I’m afraid,” the psalmist said, “I trust in You”—my daily bread. And in that trust, the fear must cease, Replaced with calm, replaced with peace.
So if you’re lost in troubled days, Come seek the Lord in earnest praise. He’s faithful still, both strong and true— He walks each anxious step with you.
Heroes don’t wear capes that fly, They don’t soar through a painted sky. No masks to hide, no flashy suits Just dog tags clinking, combat boots.
They walk through dust, through fire and rain, Shouldering silence, bearing pain. With steady hearts and watchful eyes, They fight for peace beneath the skies.
No spotlight finds them in the fray, Yet still they rise, day after day. For love of country, kin, and right, They stand as shields through darkest night.
So if you seek a hero true, Look not to myths of red and blue But to the ones who serve and stand With honor etched in calloused hands.
No capes, no fame, no scripted lines Just courage lived a thousand times.
Reason falters when emotions dance, And truth is dulled by the thirst of chance. We join the wild crowd, swept along For in the chaos, we feel we belong.
A cause embraced, no matter the cost, Feeds the ego, though truth is lost. It lifts our minds, ignites our pride, While truth stands quiet, pushed aside.
But still, a whisper calls us near: “Be still, and let your soul draw clear.” For when the heart finds holy peace, The noise of self and strife will cease.
Calm your soul, and still your mind The light of Truth you soon will find. Hold fast to Jesus, pure and bright, And walk forever in His light.
