Let not the bitter twist your soul, Nor match their fire with burning coal. For hearts that hurt will often fight, But love can pierce the darkest night.
Speak peace where anger takes its stand, Extend a warm and open hand. A gentle word, a patient ear— Can soften wrath and calm the fear.
Where others curse, let blessing grow, Plant seeds of grace in hardened soil below. For even those whose hearts have strayed Can bloom again through love conveyed.
Goodwill’s not weak—it stands its ground, It lifts the lost, the low, the bound. It dares to care, to build, to heal— To meet ill-will with truth and zeal.
So be the bridge, the balm, the light— The soul who chooses what is right. For when goodwill begins to reign, Even hate can’t long remain.
I stand up for Jesus while I kneel and pray, My voice may be quiet, but I’ve something to say. With hands clasped in reverence, my heart takes its stand, For truth is not shaken by trembling hand.
I bow in His presence, yet rise in His might, For kneeling in prayer gives strength for the fight. No army or power can pull me away I stand up for Jesus while I kneel and pray.
The world may be roaring, the storms may be loud, But I walk with the Savior, not lost in the crowd. My courage is found not in shouts or display, But in still, sacred moments I spend in His way.
So when battle lines form and darkness draws near, I lift up my soul with reverent fear. Not by sword, but by grace I hold fast each day I stand up for Jesus while I kneel and pray.
Upon a hill so dark and high, The Savior hung beneath the sky. No robe of gold, no royal thread— A crown of thorns upon His head.
The crowd grew still, the sky turned gray, As heaven watched love poured away. His hands were pierced, His side was torn, For every soul that would be born.
No angels came to lift Him down, No earthly throne, no victor’s crown— Yet in that stillness, mercy cried, And hope was born the day He died.
He bore our shame, He took our place, He looked with love into disgrace. Each drop of blood, each ragged breath, A path of life through gates of death.
And though we mourn this sacred loss, We do not weep without the cross. For Sunday dawns with glory bright— From death shall rise the Lord of Light.
So kneel today where shadows fall, And hear His voice—He died for all. The darkest day the world had known Became the day love overthrown… Was crowned the King upon His throne.
Upon the night so still, so deep, Before the world would wake or weep, He knelt, the King, with basin wide, And washed the feet of those beside.
No throne of gold, no crown to wear, But love poured out in servant care. The hands that shaped the stars above Now wiped the dust with holy love.
He broke the bread, He raised the cup, “This is My body—drink it up. Remember Me in all you do, My covenant, poured out for you.”
The shadows crept, the hour grew late, The Lamb would bear the sinner’s fate. Yet in that room so dimly lit, Divine compassion brightly lit.
“A new command,” He gently said, “Love one another in My stead. Not just in word, but in the way You serve, you give, you kneel, you pray.”
And so this night, with hearts made pure, We walk the path where Christ was sure. From towel to table, cross to grave, We bless the One who came to save.
For His Honor and Glory MarkWaldrop
Jhn 13:12 When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. "Do you understand what I have done for you?" he asked them. Jhn 13:13 "You call me 'Teacher' and 'Lord,' and rightly so, for that is what I am. Jhn 13:14 Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another's feet. Jhn 13:15 I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Jhn 13:16 Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Jhn 13:17 Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.
My mother led me in this simple prayer When I was just a lad, with tousled hair. She knelt beside me, soft and kind, And helped me speak with heart and mind:
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.
Those words were seeds, so gently sown, That bloomed in years as I had grown. Through battles fought and joys well earned, To God I turned, in peace or burned.
I prayed through storms, both fierce and wide, With trembling lips or lifted pride. Some prayers were bold, some whispers low, But He was there through all I’d know.
And now, as twilight veils the day, And earthly light begins to fade, The time has come—He calls me near, And all that’s left is trust, not fear.
I mouth the words I’ve always known, No grander speech, no prideful tone:
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.
So take me, Lord, in arms of grace To heaven’s rest, to love’s embrace. A child once more, I close my eyes, And rise with You beyond the skies.
The clock keeps ticking, the moments pass, Like shadows sliding on panes of glass. You’ve waited long, you’ve felt the call A whisper deep, beyond it all.
Don’t delay, make your decision today, Tomorrow might steal the chance away. The door stands open, the light shines through, And Heaven waits with love for you.
The world will offer empty gain, But only Christ can break the chain. So take the step, don’t turn aside— Let grace and mercy be your guide.
For life begins when you kneel and pray Don’t delay, make your decision today.
For His Honor and Glory MarkWaldrop
2Co 6:2 (For he saith, I have heard thee in a time accepted, and in the day of salvation have I succoured thee: behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.)
The streets were lined with waving palms, Hosannas rose in joyful psalms. The King rode in on borrowed steed, To fill the world’s most urgent need.
On Monday’s path, He cleansed the place, Where hearts had strayed from holy grace. With righteous fire, He cast out wrong His truth like thunder, clear and strong.
By Tuesday’s sun, He taught once more, Of Heaven’s gate and mercy’s door. The crowds grew still, the shadows near, Yet still He spoke, though death drew near.
On Wednesday, silence cloaked the land, Betrayal stirred in greed’s dark hand. A kiss was planned, a coin was paid, The Son of Man by friend betrayed.
Then Thursday came, the upper room, A basin, bread, and coming gloom. He broke the loaf, He blessed the cup, And knelt to wash—then lifted up.
In midnight’s hush, in garden deep, While others fled or fell to sleep, He bore the weight, the crushing dread “Thy will, not mine,” is what He said.
Friday’s sky turned black with grief, The Lamb was slain, the thief found belief. The veil was torn, the earth did shake The curse of sin began to break.
On Saturday, the world stood still, The tomb was sealed upon the hill. Hope seemed lost, all dreams undone Yet silence waited for the Son.
Then Sunday’s dawn lit up the skies, The stone rolled back, the dead did rise! No grave could hold, no seal contain The Risen Lord who broke all chains.
So every step of Holy Week Speaks to the soul of love we seek. From palms to cross, from death to rise Redemption’s gift before our eyes.
For His Honor and Glory MarkWaldrop
Mat 21:9 And the multitudes that went before, and that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna to the Son of David: Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest.
The sun rose soft on Vatican stone, Where faithful gathered, hearts full-blown. Palm branches waved through morning light, A sacred sign, a hopeful sight.
Then came a hush—a breath held tight, As robes appeared in gleaming white. A figure known, with steps still slow, But eyes alight with Heaven’s glow.
Pope Francis came through trial and flame, From breathless dark, he rose again. With double storm within his chest, He leaned on God, found strength and rest.
No screen today, no distant call But soul standing tall before them all. A shepherd brave, a soul restored, He blessed the crowd and praised the Lord.
A Palm Sunday no one foresaw A glimpse of grace, a breath of awe. For in his smile, the faithful see God’s mercy meet with victory.
