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.

For His Honor and Glory
MarkWaldrop

Amazing love, how can it be,
That You, my God, would die for me?
A crown of thorns, a rugged tree—
You bore it all to set me free.

From Heaven’s throne to earth below,
You came to face sin’s darkest foe.
You took my place, endured my pain,
And by Your blood, broke every chain.

No greater love has ever known
A Savior choosing cross and stone.
While I was lost, You made the way—
You called my name and bid me stay.

What mercy wrapped in wounds so deep,
What grace that watches while I sleep.
My soul now sings eternally:
Amazing love, how can it be.

For His Honor and Glory
MarkWaldrop

Rom 5:8  But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. 

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.

Amen.

For His Honor and Glory
MarkWaldrop

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.

For His Honor and Glory
MarkWaldrop

In lands where the southern borders lie, Under the vast and embracing sky, In Texas, Arizona, and California’s embrace, Easter’s meaning finds a new grace.

For thousands, the message is clear and bright, As dawn dispels the shadows of night, A celebration of hope that will soon unfurl, Uniting hearts across the world.

We praise God for this season anew, For the promise of life and beginnings true, As we prepare to honor our Savior’s fight, His victory over death, a glorious sight.

In the coming days, let us all unite In gratitude for this triumph, this light, Our Savior’s love, so vast and deep, A promise He made, a promise He keeps.

So let us thank God as we draw near To celebrate Easter, so dear, For the victory over sin and grave, For the love He gave, and for the world He saved.

March 28, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop

Search where you may with all your might,
To find a glimpse of God’s pure Light.
Climb the mountains, scan the skies,
Seek through tears and heartfelt cries.

But know, O soul, man’s view is small,
Earth-bound eyes can’t see it all.
We chase through reason, thought, and lore,
Yet miss the truth we’re longing for.

For light divine, and wisdom deep,
Are not in places shadows sleep.
True revelation, clear and bright,
Comes not by sight—but Spirit’s light.

The Word of God, alive and true,
Will open hearts and minds anew.
Not by flesh nor clever mind,
But by His Spirit, truth we find.

So bow your heart, and seek His face,
Not in the stars, but in His grace.
Search not alone—His Word will guide,
And with His Spirit, walk beside.

For His Honor and Glory
MarkWaldrop 

1Co 2:14  The person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God but considers them foolishness, and cannot understand them because they are discerned only through the Spirit. 

Love the earth, the sky, the breeze,
The whisper in the bending trees.
Embrace the beasts, both wild and tame,
And see in each a holy flame.

Despise not man, but riches vain,
Let greed not bind your heart in chain.
Give freely when the needy cry,
And lift the lowly passing by.

Defend the strange, the lost, the wild,
The silent man, the dreaming child.
Let labor serve a greater goal—
To heal another broken soul.

Hate the tyrant, not the name,
But never play the power game.
Speak not of God in loud debate,
Let love, not dogma, seal your fate.

Bow to none, not crowned, nor dressed,
No title makes a man the best.
Walk with the poor, the pure, the strong,
In simple truth where hearts belong.

Read the wind and sky and sea,
Let nature set your spirit free.
Doubt the lessons fed

For His Honor and Glory
MarkWaldrop

Inspired by Poet
Walter "Walt" Whitman

“How strange,” said the Boy, “that the grass still stands,
After winds tore the trees and scattered the lands.”
He looked all around at the broken and torn,
At the silence that followed the fury and storm.

“Sometimes being soft is strong,” said the Hare,
His whiskers still wet from the rain-swept air.
“The grass doesn’t fight, doesn’t rise up tall—
It bends with the wind and survives it all.”

“The oak may boast of its height and might,
But it snapped in the face of the storm last night.
The grass just whispered and laid down low,
Then rose again when the winds let go.”

The Boy sat quiet, letting it sink in—
That strength isn’t always loud or within
The hardest of things or the boldest of cries—
But sometimes in softness, true courage lies.

And there in the hush of the morning light,
He saw that the meek had won the fight.
For when the storm has had its say,
It’s the gentle things that find their way.

For His Honor and Glory
MarkWaldrop