O Great Spirit in skies so wide, Who walks with us, who walks beside, Your voice is heard on winds that blow, Your hands have shaped the earth below.
You paint the skies at break of day, And guide the eagle on its way. You give the deer its silent tread, And mark the stars above our head.
Grant me wisdom, pure and true, To see the world the way You do. To walk in peace, to speak with grace, To honor all in every place.
Let me not seek to rise above, But serve with kindness, lead with love. To heal the wrong, to make things right, And walk with courage through the night.
When my last sunset paints the sky, And soft winds call, and time draws nigh, May I return to You once more, To run with spirits gone before.
As iron sharpens iron’s edge, So grows the soul on wisdom’s ledge. One heart to another, sparks may fly, But truth is born when hearts don’t lie.
Through words that challenge, love that stands, Through steady work of guiding hands, We shape each other, side by side, Refined by fire, not by pride.
Not every stroke is smooth or kind, But strength is forged in heart and mind. In friendship deep, in trials shared, We grow more whole, more true, prepared.
So thank the ones who dare to stay, Who speak the truth, then kneel and pray. For in their love, we rise, we learn— Like iron’s edge, it’s our turn to burn…
To burn away what keeps us small, And help each other stand up tall. For God designed us to be one— Sharpened strong ‘til work is done.
Pro 27:17 As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.
Born of God, we stand so strong, Through trials fierce, through nights so long. The world may shake, the storms may rise, Yet faith prevails beneath the skies.
No chain can hold, no fear remain, For in His hands, we break the pain. The battle fought, the race is run, Yet in His name, the war is won.
Not by might, nor earthly gain, But by our faith, through joy and pain. For those in Christ shall stand secure, His love unshaken, strong and pure.
So lift your eyes, let doubt depart, For victory lives within the heart. Who’s born of God shall stand above— Overcome the world with faith and love!
For His Honor and Glory MarkWaldrop
1Jn 5:4 for everyone born of God overcomes the world. This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith.
If you want to feel rich, don’t look at the gold, Or the treasures and trinkets that hands can hold. Count instead the gifts so true, The love, the laughter, the skies so blue.
The warmth of a hug, a friend’s kind embrace, The joy of a smile that time won’t erase. The whispers of wind, the song of the sea, The peace in your heart when your soul is set free.
The love of a child, the touch of a hand, The faith that sustains when you don’t understand. For wealth isn’t measured in diamonds or things, But in moments of joy that a full heart brings.
For His Honor and Glory MarkWaldrop
1Ti 6:17 Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.
My grandmother once gave me a tip: “In difficult times, move forward—bit by bit. Don’t gaze too far, don’t drown in despair, Just take small steps—you’ll get there.”
Wash the dishes, sweep the floor, Fold the laundry, mend once more. Write a letter, stir the pot, Tend the garden, plant a thought.
You see? You’re moving, step by step, Not leaping ahead, but finding your breath. Take a moment, pause, be still, Rest a little—gather will.
Then another step, then one more, What once felt heavy won’t feel so sore. You won’t notice the weight has shifted, That time has passed, that grief has lifted.
One day soon, you’ll raise your face, And dream again with quiet grace. The future won’t seem like a storm or sigh, But a path that glows beneath the sky.
So in winter’s garden, plant with care, Hope is resting, waiting there. Let the cold soil whisper true: Spring will come—and so will you.
The final kiss will last forever, Be it through distance or death’s cold tether. A whispered touch, a fleeting sigh, Yet love remains, it won’t say goodbye.
The final kiss is one to remember, A spark in the dark, an ember so tender. A parting of sorrow, a love now gone, Yet in our hearts, it lingers on.
The memories weave, entwined and true, A bond unbroken, me and you. Though time may pass and shadows fall, Love still stands, untouched by all.
For love is stronger than space or time, A gift of grace, forever divine. And though we part, we are not lost, Love endures, no matter the cost.
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”
