Friday, June 13, 2008

 

"One Last Breath" By Creed

This song sums up how I feel sometimes. It's a struggle. The song after this one reminds me of my daughters. This one reminds me of me.



Please come now I think I'm falling
I'm holding on to all I think is safe
It seems I found the road to nowhere
And I'm trying to escape
I yelled back when I heard thunder
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

I'm looking down now that it's over
Reflecting on all of my mistakes
I thought I found the road to somewhere
Somewhere in His grace
I cried out heaven save me
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

I'm so far down

Sad eyes follow me
But I still believe there's something left for me
So please come stay with me
'Cause I still believe there's something left for you and me
For you and me
For you and me

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking (thinking)

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

Please come now I think I'm falling
I'm holding on to all I think is safe

 

"Nobody's Home" by Avril Lavigne

I just heard this song, Nobody's Home, by Avril Lavigne. It hits too
close to home and it really depressed me today. My daughters, whom I hurt for deeply.



Well I couldn't tell you why she felt that way, She felt it everyday.
And I couldn't help her, I just watched her make the same mistakes again.

What's wrong, what's wrong now? Too many, too many problems.
Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs.

She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
That's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go,
to dry her eyes. Broken inside.

Open your eyes and look outside, find the reasons why.
You've been rejected, and now you can't find what you've left behind.

Be strong, be strong now. Too many, too many problems.
Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs.

She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
That's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go,
to dry her eyes. Broken inside.

Her feelings she hides. Her dreams she can't find.
She's losing her mind. She's fallen behind.
She can't find her place. She's losing her faith.
She's falling from grace. She's all over the place!

She wants to go home, but nobody's home.
That's where she lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go,
to dry her eyes. Broken inside.
She's lost inside, lost inside.
She's lost inside, lost inside.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

 

Missing an old Friend

Missing an old Friend

I am temporarily posting the following commentary
for my friend. Forgive me if it is somewhat rambling, in a way, I am
just saying goodbye to my friend (or rather, until we meet again).

A friend of mine died Tuesday, a good friend. He will be badly missed at the
nursing home. I was privy to the secret things he did, the way he loved the
other residents, and the things he did for them in private. He was a
resident there, and he truly had empathy for some of the loneliness and pain
that people sometimes experience in such a situation. Ronnie and I
spoke of Christianity many times, we just referred to it as "being
Christian". He may have been one of the best examples I've ever seen of a
true Christian. That's a great thing I love about God. He always gives
you just what you need, just at the right time. At time when many churches
have forgotten the first love, the mission, God helped me remember that
Christianity is not about church rituals and punching a ticket on Sundays,
as so many people have mistaken it. That is one reason so many people
feel empty in many churches today. Jesus Christ is the most shining
example of God's love we will ever have, and we would all do well to examine
His life carefully. To quote a popular phrase, I don't want to "be
like Mike", I want to "be like Jesus. And it is when we love others
and sacrifice for others that Jesus can be seen clearly in us. It was
only when I started looking on the battlefield, in the trenches, that I
truly started seeing God in action. And Ronnie was one brother that
let the light so shine before men, and it glorified God.

Many churches have become social clubs, neglecting their first love. I had
placed so much faith in churches, thinking that was the answer - but it
wasn't. So I got in the trenches and became obedient
to God, I started going where God sent me, where the need was. It was in the
nursing home that I met Ronnie. I observed his day to day actions and they
preached to me louder than empty words ever could. He was not a preacher,
but he preached, believe me, he preached. There is nothing more encouraging
than seeing a man of faith show that faith through servitude to others.
In the beginning, I offered to take him to the church I was attending, and I
did until I left that church. I believe Ronnie saw me as his
pastor/minister, but I wasn't. But he treated me that way, so I
remember how I agonized over leaving the church because of the possible
effect on Ronnie. I agonized over it more for Ronnie's sake than my
own, because I had been taking him with me and he trusted me. After a
week or two of prayer, I broached the subject with him and told him although
I was leaving that particular church for reasons I would not go into,
I would continue to take him. He said to me, "I know you, you come to me,
you come here, you are like family, like a minister, or a church member. I
don't know anyone at that church there and they don't know me. If I
stop coming to them, no-one there will come looking for me."
This made me incredibly sad, because without me stating a reason for
leaving, he had hit the very point of contention I had with the church.
Many of the churches (although, Thank you God, not all) would do exactly as
he predicted.

I would take him shopping now and then and watch him count his money and
calculate just what he could afford to buy for this person and that person.
Be it a magnifying glass to help someone read their Bible better, or just a
stuffed animal to bring them comfort, he was always on the lookout for
something to help ease others pain and lighten their load. I thought of the
widow throwing in her two mites, and I wept. I would not be surprised to
find that the few dollars he spent on those trips meant more to God than a
million dollar church.

Let me share with you something that will give you an idea of the spirit of
God in this man, something I am only sharing because Ronnie has passed on.
One day, as I was beginning to visit with the folks there, Ronnie walked up.
I could tell he was agitated. He pulled me aside and said he needed to
talk with me, that he needed badly to confess something, that he had done
something wrong. This is not uncommon for people to approach me in
this way sometimes, but it always puts me on edge, until the issue can be
confessed and resolved. So we immediately found an out of the way
table and we sat. I encouraged him to simply state the problem simply
and let's get it prayed out, that God was more than willing to forgive a
repentant heart.

Now folks, I have heard some pretty lurid confessions, some pretty bad ones.
But nothing, ever, including my own, so bad that God wouldn't forgive.
But I have never heard a confession like I heard that day. (And again,
I share this because Ronnie has passed on, and I feel total peace in sharing
this). What Ronnie had been fretting over, what he had done wrong was
this. He had received some Christmas gifts from his sister. And
on the same day that he received them, he had seen some other residents sad
that they had received none and Ronnie was moved with compassion for them
and he gave them all away. His perceived great wrong in all this was
that he feared this would greatly hurt and possibly anger his sister.
Ronnie knew that generally when people give you a gift, they don't
appreciate you giving it away. It could be perceived as being
disrespectful for the giver and the gift. Truly, I had to sit back and
laugh aloud, joyously, giving praise to God. And then I took his hands
in mine and asked a few questions that would resolve it. First I
asked, "Why did you give the presents away?". Well, because he saw the
others didn't have any and he wanted to make them happy. Then the
second, "Is your sister a Christian, in spirit and not just in name?"
The answer was yes. I knew then, that there was no way this sister
would be mad, not if she understood what he had actually done. My wife
and I prayed, had only good feelings, and advised him to call his sister
immediately and tell her, and, ask for her forgiveness, if she was offended.
But, we knew, I mean, we knew, she would not be, because of the answer to
the real question, Was she Christian? She would understand. She
did. We talked about it at the funeral, Ronnie's sister and my wife
and I. In all our minds, it was a tribute to who and what Ronnie was.

Ronnie would not have claimed to be a Bible scholar, but He studied God's
word diligently, and put it in action. He truly was a servant, and had
no aspirations to be chief. Perhaps few people saw this in him, but because
we were friends and he treated me as his minister/confidant, he let me see
the secret works. Well, Ronnie, my friend, my brother - those secret works
were the best sermon you could ever preach. Your sacrifice shames many
churches. Ronnie treated me like a preacher, (I'm not) but he was truly a
minister (in every meaning of the word). I mourn the loss of people
like my friend. Oh, there's no doubt he's in good hands. I do not mourn for
Ronnie, I mourn for myself, I mourn for the other residents of the nursing
home, for he will be sorely missed.

And as I wrote this, I felt depressed, but in the writing of this, God has
raised my spirits. He will send another, and another, as many as needed. For
every church that won't go, there will be just enough that will. He has
reminded me that God is not dependant on us, nor on man's organized religion
and rituals. Sometimes we forget that we are dependant on Him and we
don't truly listen, we don't truly obey. But He can accomplish His
Will regardless of us. But because He loves us, He reaches out for us.
It pleases Him to work through us. And one individual is enough, with
God. Ronnie was truly God's servant. He will receive no glory in this life,
but will receive just rewards in the end. God sends His people to the
hungry, the poor, the oppressed. When we don't go, we cheat ourselves. When
we lock ourselves up in our church buildings like refuges and refuse to come
out, we only show our fear, or worse, our apathy. But don't be fooled, God
will provide, someone will be sent. But woe to those that are called and
refuse. I believe God will forgive you, but, later, can you forgive
yourself? And thank you God, for those that you send to the fields, indeed
the harvest is ripe. And Father, I pray for those that have lost their first
love, please restore it. Create in me a clean heart, O God, and restore a
right spirit within me.

At the funeral, there were only a few folks there, but it would be unwise to
assume anything from that. The very people that Ronnie helped the
most, were, for the most part, physically unable to be there due to health.
But when I went to the nursing home the next day, I could see the sorrow,
and I could sense the loss. Ronnie is missed down here on earth Lord,
specifically here at the home. Please send another like him.
But, knowing You, You already have!

Ronnie, Thank you, my friend, for being my friend, for serving God in true
humility and obedience, and for helping me to understand that God is most
clearly seen in the places where the need is greatest . Until we meet again.

Your friend and brother

Steve

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

 

BlindSided

To hurt so bad that you can't sleep. To have your heart crushed in a vise day and night. So many successes Lord, but one colossal failure, yet that one failure obsesses me. Burned so badly, afraid of being burnt. Yet you're asking me to go into the fire Lord. Cut so deeply, yet you're asking me to walk on razors. Give me strength, O' Lord, to just do rightly, with mercy and compassion. Give me strength O' Lord, to reach my hand into the pits of hell to pull her out. I asked for a heart that would love You and love others, and I believe you've answered that prayer. I never knew it would hurt so much. But..thank you. Now I ask that you give me the strength to follow what my heart knows to do. I am weak, Lord, weaker than I knew. But I know you are strong and I know you are guiding me. My heart cries out with the pain of others, some of it caused by me. Give me the strength to follow what my heart feels. My prayer, Father, help me to follow you at any cost, help me not to give up on anyone, no matter how badly they wound me. When they cut me, I run, teach me O' Lord, to turn back and reach out again, and again, and again. I hurt Lord, but I know, it's nothing compared to the nails in your hands, so please Lord, I am so very weak, help me. The churches have left me down, but I know they cannot be as apathetic or as misled as they seem. Father, help me, help us, not let the lost down. Put in me a spirit that will keep trying, even to the death. Especially for the one that I cannot reach. But for now, I'm shocked at my own weaknesses, my own fear, yet I cry out against it to you Lord. I hate all this hatred that I see Lord, the selfishness, the apathy - we cry for your return Lord. Lord, chastize me, whip me, whatever you must do - but please, please, use me. Let me not grow weary, nor afraid, but determined and faithful. You have answered my prayer once, when I knew not what I asked. Please answer this one. If I cannot help her Lord, then please, change me, or send someone that can. Have mercy.

Monday, May 28, 2007

 

Memorial Day

I'll sit and look at the broken tombstones today, some fresh, some old, some remembered, some forgotten, and yearn for a time past when I was alive. Murdered by hate, buried by pride, forgotten by time. I look at the family plot and think about what should have been, and yet, is not. Someone has kicked the stones to the ground, a fallen rock on stony sand, nameless forgotten, till picked up again.

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

 

Where shall I find you?

You're lost, and I cannot find you. I look into your eyes, but I don't recognize you. I speak, but you can't hear me. You're lost and I can't find you. I can only mourn and wait....and hope.

Saturday, March 04, 2006

 

Mat 25:45 Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.

Today was a special day for me, a lifetime ago. Fortunately I'm kept so busy I can't think, can't dwell. Part of me is weak and frail, part of me is iron. I can't heal my wound, so I will help heal others. I will look into your aged eyes and give you hope, will speak of faith. I will speak of God's love, and how it is and how it will be. Your pain becomes my pain because I will help you carry. I don't know the pain your arthritic hands cause you, age has taken it's toll. But please, take my strength. I cannot be strong for myself, but I can be strong for you. I've not experienced your age, but we've got something in common. We both know the real pain is not the physical pain. I would take your pain away if I could, but I can't, I can't heal myself. But God can. This is what I know and you know and in the telling it is affirmed. I don't believe it as strong when I tell myself, but I know it is true as I say it to you. I remember the truth. I would be overwhelmed in my grief, in my loss. I can't even put it in words. But in helping you, in sharing your pain, my own heals also, for a little while. You need me to be strong, I will be strong, you will never know otherwise because you need me strong. It is only because I bleed too that I understand your bleeding. You said to me, " Pray to God that I won't kill myself, that He won't let me". How can I heal such pain? I can't - but I will pray. And He won't let you. Believe. I will. I came back and you were gone. "How can I help you?" I asked. "Visit me here", you said. I came back and you were gone. How can I find you, no one can say where you have gone? I hugged you, I held your hand. I looked you in the eye, strong and full of faith and assured you I would, that you could count on it. I came back and you were gone. Where will I visit you? Where will I find you? Flawed again, failed again. I can't find you. But God can. I can only be as strong as I have to be for you. But I can't heal myself. But God can. I can't put the broken life back together, but God can. I can't take away my own pain, but I can help you with yours. And I will. But please, please, don't trust in my strength, trust in God's. Don't make me be something I can't. Please please, I am not as strong as you see. Don't do that to me. But you need me to be, so I am. God is the iron in me. God is the only strong thing in me. Hear me when I tell you, God is strong - put your faith in God - I beg you don't put it in me. I can't help but fail you, like I've failed others so many times before, that counted on me, needed me to be strong. And I thought I was. And I wanted to be. And God you made me stronger than I ever could be. And I thought I was. And I was. It was too much God. For a moment, I felt the weight you had been carrying, and it broke my back Lord. And the iron cracked, and I had to be strong/silent/taking their pain upon my own and laughing in the wind. I had to be the rock.solid.hope.faith.unbreakable.unflappable. I bore the beatings. I would take your place, if I could. In the end, I failed. And I tried so very hard, God, I tried so very hard, God you know I tried so very hard. "How can I help you?" I ask again. "Look at me," I cried, "How can I help you?" I will fail you. But I will not stop trying. Ever. Because Jesus took my place on that cross. And I want to be like my master. And I owe Him more than my life. And I so badly want you to know, to believe. Because He did the same for you. I know that. Because He sent me here today to remind you. Perhaps I will fail you, as I’ve failed you in the past. But Jesus will not. I trust Him. I believe Him. Because I know what He did for me. I love Him. And I love you. Because you are made in His image.


Saturday, January 21, 2006

 

I love my wife so very much

I love my wife very much. I hurt so much because she hurts so much. I will never be able to show her how much she means to me. I wish I could take away the pain that her child causes her, she loves her in secret only. I pray for her to be forgiving as the unforgivable is done to her daily. She is a true Christian. Her prayers are precious to God. She is a woman of faith. True faith brings true pain, but ultimately joy. But pain in these end times as child turns against parent. How I love her, how I wish I could ease her hidden pain. She is a role model for me. And I love her and I always will. She does not hurt the innocent, she does not use words as weapons. Her faith is called foolish by the faithless. She is mocked, yet doesn’t mock the ones that mock her, but prays for them instead. That is real love.


Thursday, January 05, 2006

 

My Hidden Pain

I'm saddened to learn that perhaps there are wounds too deep to recover from. I'm not callous enough to attack, so I'll just dodge the blows the best I can as I bleed to death. The nicks and cuts normally inflicted on a parent usually just heal and leave scar tissue, but some can be mortal. Did you think I wouldn't bleed? I wish you were right. Was it important to you to prove you were stronger? To prove that might makes right? To prove you could break me? I guess it feels that way at your age, but you're wrong, you know. You can cause me pain, you do. But not in the way you think. It's taken me a lot of years and experience to learn that pride is an unruly master. To serve God, to love Him, and to love others as yourself, that is what is important. But doing that will not protect you from pain. It takes much more strength to not vent, to not attack, to not cut, then it does to do those things. And it will hurt when others do that to you. My faith does not lessen my pain, sadly. I am already broken before God, but do not mistake that for the reasons for my pain, that is my strength. I am strongest when I am weakest. The pain I feel the most is not for myself. With God's help, I can survive pain, even to the death. My pain is my love for you, the sorrow over the paths you have taken. My pain is my fear that you have become too wise, too strong, too tough, to acknowledge to yourself that you're afraid, lost, and need love and forgiveness like all of us. My pain is that you respond to messages of love and hurt with anger. My pain is that I cannot reach you. My pain is that I want you to be happy and I fear you cannot be. My pain is that I am now afraid of the fire, the razor edge that you have become. I do not hurt for myself, I hurt for you, but it still hurts nonetheless.

Monday, November 21, 2005

 

Strangers

It strikes me as sad, yet it is of a truth. Sometimes the ones that should be the closest - are the farthest apart. Yet another Hidden pain. The greatest distances are the ones we create ourselves.

Saturday, November 05, 2005

 

New look to the site - easier commenting

Hi - The site was down for a week or so while I changed some servers. I did lose some content because the backup file system used by the ISP was a proprietary type that wouldn't work properly when I tried their restore function. I have changed the backup so that I can manually recreate the site quickly, if I have to. I have also changed the setup of the site. The links at the left should provide easy access to poems and songs without the commentary, or you can enjoy the whole site in a blog format.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

 

The Awakening

Here's another song - A religious theme seems to be the order of the day!
The Awakening

Sunday, July 03, 2005

 

The Hunger

Here's one of my latest songs - It's probably my 2nd favorite I've ever written - bear with the singing and playing, it's in rough draft form.
The Hunger

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

 

The Calling

Here is one of my favorite songs I've written. I think it's about faith and pain. I hope you enjoy it. Forgive the rough edges, it's a draft.
The Calling

Thursday, May 05, 2005

 

Another Year Lost -- Reader 13

Today was a special day for me, a lifetime ago. Fortunately I'm kept so busy I can't think, can't dwell. Part of me is weak and frail, part of me is iron. I can't heal my wound, so I will help heal others. I will look into your aged eyes and give you hope, will speak of faith. I will speak of God's love, and how it is and how it will be. Your pain becomes my pain because I will help you carry. I don't know the pain your arthritic hands cause you, age has taken it's toll. But please, take my strength. I cannot be strong for myself, but I can be strong for you. I've not experienced your age, but we've got something in common. We both know the real pain is not the physical pain. I would take your pain away if I could, but I can't, I can't heal myself. But God can. This is what I know and you know and in the telling it is affirmed. I don't believe it as strong when I tell myself, but I know it is true as I say it to you. I remember the truth. I would be overwhelmed in my grief, in my loss. I can't even put it in words. But in helping you, in sharing your pain, my own heals also, for a little while. You need me to be strong, I will be strong, you will never know otherwise because you need me strong. It is only because I bleed too that I understand your bleeding. You said to me, " Pray to God that I won't kill myself, that He won't let me". How can I heal such pain? I can't - but I will pray. And He won't let you. Believe. I will. I came back and you were gone. "How can I help you?" I asked. "Visit me here", you said. I came back and you were gone. How can I find you, no one can say where you have gone? I hugged you, I held your hand. I looked you in the eye, strong and full of faith and assured you I would, that you could count on it. I came back and you were gone. Where will I visit you? Where will I find you? Flawed again, failed again. I can't find you. But God can. I can only be as strong as I have to be for you. But I can't heal myself. But God can. I can't put the broken life back together, but God can. I can't take away my own pain, but I can help you with yours. And I will. But please, please, don't trust in my strength, trust in God's. Don't make me be something I can't. Please please, I am not as strong as you see. Don't do that to me. But you need me to be, so I am. God is the iron in me. God is the only strong thing in me. Hear me when I tell you, God is strong - put your faith in God - I beg you don't put it in me. I can't help but fail you, like I've failed others so many times before, that counted on me, needed me to be strong. And I thought I was. And I wanted to be. And God you made me stronger than I ever could be. And I thought I was. And I was. It was too much God. For a moment, I felt the weight you had been carrying, and it broke my back Lord. And the iron cracked, and I had to be strong/silent/taking their pain upon my own and laughing in the wind. I had to be the rock.solid.hope.faith.unbreakable.unflappable. I bore the beatings. I was your sacrifice. In the end, I failed. And I tried so very hard, God, I tried so very hard, God you know I tried so very hard. "How can I help you?" I ask again. "Look at me," I cried, "How can I help you?" I will fail you. But I will not stop trying. ever.

Monday, March 22, 2004

 

Hidden Hope

Sometimes the pain is overwhelming, but there is hidden hope as well as hidden pain. HiddenHope

Wednesday, March 05, 2003

 

Waiting

Waiting and musing on a slow day
Waiting

 

Free Flight

Thoughts from my birdcage
Free Flight

 

Predators

They prey on the kind-hearted and never consider the damage
Predators

Thursday, February 20, 2003

 

Faith As A Child

If only it were as simple as that. Perhaps it is.
Faith As A Child

 

The Rain

Thoughts on a rainy day
The Rain

 

Letting Go

On Letting Go
Letting Go

 

Farewell

More proof that all it takes is a little pain and sorrow, and writing comes easier.
Farewell

Wednesday, February 19, 2003

 

The Mask

Yet more Proof that all it takes is a little pain and sorrow, and writing comes easier.
The Mask

 

Hidden pain

The title song of the site, I finally got the words written. All it takes is a little pain and sorrow, and writing comes easier.
Hidden pain

Sunday, January 05, 2003

 

Not so Well Hidden Pain

I am in such pain, I cannot stand it. Yet I cannot escape it, I cannot bear it. I cannot bear it. I cannot bear it. I try, but I fail. I am bound by things beyond my control. My mouth is closed, yet I'm screaming. I just can't take it. Yet I cannot die. I am on the edge, yet I cannot jump. I am hurtling down, yet I must pull up. I have the anti-Midas touch. I am in such pain, and I cannot stand it. Yet I cannot escape it. One more step and I tumble. Quit pushing. Help. But I am strengthened, I find the core. I am stronger than I ever thought. He leads me through it. You don't expect the attack from within, but it makes you stronger, thickens the skin. Evil hates good, an eternal battle. It will try to bring down any good, because in the end, it can't win. And Misery loves her company.

Friday, August 23, 2002

 

World Out There

No Words or Musical notation yet, but the MP3 is there
World Out There

Wednesday, August 07, 2002

 

I'll Be There

One of my first songs
I'll Be There

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