​I don’t fit in. 
Not complaining, 
But it’s like I’m sitting 
On rocks way too frigid, 
And I’m itchin’
For my heavenly riches. 
But if you didn’t know, 
Let me tell you though, 
That’s a prodigal road, 
Gimme now what I’m owed 
And nobody seems to know, 
You carry what you’re owed. 
That cross on your back’s
Not an imaginary load. 
If we live as we’re told, 
It gets lighter as we go, 
And as prophecies spoke 
Of Messiah long ago, 
So we hold on with hope 
The same Jesus all our own,
No more sacrifice to smoke, 
God is willing and He’s true; 
We don’t need more than we do.

Take a hit
Of a chip on a stick,
Oil can’t take
The pain but it can break
My will to hold the pain
Close to my chest like it’s veins,
Heart pounds like a bass.
Brain flounders in one place.
Panic is tempting but full of disgrace.

I made this on my phone,
And you don’t know
What it cost my soul
To find myself alone,
Helpless, cold like stone,
Calling out for hope,
But incapable to cope.
But God knows,
He didn’t let go,
He held me close,
Made sure I could grow.
Wiped my runny nose,
Reset these broken bones. 
And now I know:
God is my Home. 
I might fail to feel whole,
But He doesn’t let go. 

Faith is what makes
History to take,
Movements to break,
Tyranny to quake,
Delirious with drink,
Until they think that they think
Everything that’s great.
Pride comes before a state
Of toppling from our prate. 

It’s the forgiveness
Of our Father in heaven
That restores our mindless “help me.”
From “get me what I’m longing
“For”‘ to “help me long for giving.”
Unconditionally given
Ticket into heaven,
Death died already, it’s the eleventh
Hour and we’re given a haven.
Made for a Safe Place in
His Presence, finally living.

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