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dieing to live

Location: Manitoba, Canada

Thursday, March 01, 2007

The Confession

How great is our God?
He lifts us when we have nothing left to live for
He heals us when our scars reappear
And he is always persuing us
No matter where we are
There is always a chance
As long as we're alive

I lift Your name up to the heavens
Because this earth will never satisfy
For it's always been You
So search my heart, my soul, these eyes
Gouge them out and make something new
For with my eyes i commit adultry
Every moment that i see him
I just want to be free
To be able to live for You
The way that it's meant to be
Fearless and shameless
With a hint of courage and Your bravery
Your love and Your Joy
Your reality To gravely
Confess that i have no power
And therefore seek no glory
In any of this at all
I am simply from You
But because of that i am of You
And from this confession
I dare to say the words
i love You


This is a battlecry
for the mind
for the heart
beating inside
For love disguised in pride
For the hope as it drives us
For the tears as they fall down these
Porciline faces
For the saints as they cry for us
For Jesus as he wept and died for us
For these wooden crosses
as they land
in the heartbeat of a moment
On stollen hearts

A Glass of Water

A glass of water is not sweet, it is not sour, salty, or flavored in anyway, and yet it replenishes the body. It has no taste, yet on some days, it leaves you thirsting for more. Love is like that. This love that we say we are called to is not a dry love. Water is found benieth the surface of the earth, so it went through dirt to get to where it is today. Love is like that too.
The only true love is the love that replenishes the soul without needing a photograph, a letter, a face, or even their laughter.
God is like that, though he sent us a letter. Though i can't see him in photograph, though i can't hear him speak, not even his laughter, when i think of our Father, Pure Joy rains upon the withered flower.
His water is like that.

Send us your water for we need you now.
our spirits are empty, but we know that somehow
you will restore us to life
just like you promised to
Jesus we need your water
Yes, we need you
-Mike Flute

i sing that song as a prayer today, for all of you who need spiritual rains to poar upon you.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Still on the Valley Floor

Walking along this valley's floor, I am reminded of the past long years. I struggled, I fell; but I never really knew how to get back up. To fight this felt useless, to stand up again was uncomfortable, and even just to breathe sometimes, hurt. But now, from somewhere far beyond my reach, I find that glimmer of hope that sets the enemies flags to fire; that burns him to a crisp, and wakes me up inside.

The battles end, and yet new ones bloom,

Its what we live for. A fight to the finish.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

How do i sift the past few months? things have changed, things i can not explain, nor do i have the knowladge as to how they changed, they just did. How do these things just seem to happen for no reason at all? And all that i thought is gone, all my theories have just disappeared for the second that i'm here. running my fingers through my hair, stareing at the floor im on my knees, trying to figure out just how this has been completed. while i wasn't watching the other me slipped through the doors and shattered what i called life, and now i'm afraid to cry because it stings. i'm not afraid of life, and i am not afraid of death. but still i feel i ma not comeing to any conclusion at all....................................
In a hole,
yours in truth,
Shmiftworth (for the moment)
it'd be awesome if someone would reply to this, and tell me that they understand it.
The cajiebled meaning of life rocks. its sweet that it will never be a CAT test!!!! and yet, the words multiple choise ring a few bells.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006


For some reason, I’m stuck again
In a world I know, and another that I am not so sure about
I really wish that I could write better than this tonight,
But sometimes the tongue over powers the pen
The things that I could once touch are still here,
But I can not feel them
Where I once was happy, darkness now lurks
A cloak, draped over open wounds,
Me, a skeleton of a person,
Like the hollowness of an empty house,
I am but an echo,
A person less worthy of anything, let alone anyone else,
I wish I could find Love, and when I found Him, to Love Him back,
But here I stand, shadows haunting my every step,
Deep shadows of those who touched me, and disappeared
I hurt them for it, and to some extent, have never really forgiven myself for that,
Though all of them forgave me
It was I who was lost, me who didn’t let them in
With deafening silence, I pierced their souls,
Or so I thought,
That silence left me, a mess never to be reckoned with,
A screaming whisper,
A hollow house,
A shuddering cold,
A match that refuses to be lit,
And so many more things that I wish not to list, yet I feel I could go on forever
I pointed my finger at Love, and blamed Him
I pointed my finger at Love, and called Him a murderer
I pointed my finger at Love, until all of me was out of me,
My whole life displayed for Him alone to see,
All my faults and frailties,
All the chains and castles and crowns that contained me,
I screamed at Him, and I didn’t care if the mountains heard,
I cried His name until I was mesmerized by it,
I screamed His name, until my voice became a whisper,
And my knees became weak
When it was over, a new silence swept over the calm,
And I found myself accepting Love
And out of the darkness, a dim match was lit
I fell on my face, and He lifted me up
First lifting my body,
Then bringing me to stand
Then holding my hands in His hands
And when He gave me strength, and stayed by my side
I raised my hands, and offered Him my life,
And when It was all said and done
And someone asked how I had battled with the darkness and won
I lifted my hand and pointed my finger at Love.

Though we hate to admit it, sometimes we hide our fire and we say things we don’t mean. And when finally all our friends are offended, or hurt, and leave, the war is not over, though the battle’s seem to be. We find ourselves alone, fighting away every spirit, even the Spirit of God. But even though we turn away, He accepts us back, when we finally realize who we’re pointing our fingers at. And even some of our friends do that. But sometimes we refuse to forgive ourselves, and sometimes that is worse.

Thursday, January 05, 2006

This Place, my Protection, my Stomping Ground

This place is a symbol,
And a portion of my reality
This is the foundation where my faith was built
The place where I found a stone and turned it into my mountain

This place and all the people gathered
To embrace what really matters
This place and all its familiar faces that never change
I’m amazed I’m one of those scattered few who found it
This is a thing everyone is searching for,
The shape that must be seen,
Or touched in order to believe
Has somewhat disappeared
When I’m found right here
Just standing on this surface
I somewhat catch the words
Teaching that I have a purpose,
Even if its shown to me in pieces
I still see it
And being here,
Having these familiar faces to back me up
I can complete it
And this butterfly,
I can set it free.

If you just believe
You will see the tears have stopped for a reason
You won’t have to call on them for release
Because it brings peace
Knowing that people
Believe in you, too.

All of these people,
The ones who seem to just be there,
Whenever the cold chains catch you by surprise,
They are really rare

They know the times where you’ve messed up
They know when you need to back up
They know the time where you need to speak
And they won’t let you shut up, not even when you weep the words
Because these words have rolled out deep
The scroll of your being,
Your inner thoughts
Them alone displayed for all to see
When they are revealed
Don’t think of what others will think
Just think of those who believe in you

This place, a place where my feet finally hit the floor
This place is for real
And it has opened the doors
To something far beyond the reality that I face
A room with thousands of memories is like a picture
There are thousands of words to describe it,
But the moment that you are there, you can not think of one.

This place, a part of who we were, and who we are
And a part of what we are becoming
This place, let it be in a building, or on a game field
This is our stomping ground,
Were we are found
Whispering from our inner core,
On our knees, or on our feet, but on the floor
The place where our hearts were first set free
The very first time someone said,
I believe
In you.

This is our stomping ground.
-Barbie Friesen

A stomping ground is a place where you feel comfortable. It’s the place where you have been the happiest person, the saddest person and where you have shown people where you are and who you are. The reason I mentioned game field, is because that is where the people on the team can show who they really are, and what they really have, the treasures the gifts, their curses and their wish. This is our stomping ground, where those around us back us up and believe in us, the place where those people help us out, even if they don’t realize that they are doing it, they help us to believe in ourselves, and in others too.
This is our stomping ground.

This poem was inspired by Kristen and Kevin Dick, from their speaking on December 4th 2005, as Kristen spoke of her brother and sister, praise God for her strength, and complete conviction.

Blanket of Fire, I've Layed Down my pride

i kneel down before you
and i bow my head
there's no way i can ignore you
cause your radiance has spread

A blanket of fire
is wrapped around my frailties
a banquet of flowers
replaces them all

Corridores mark different spaces
places dear to your heart
the dungeon of my soal has been open
the locks have been broken
as your love has set us apart

the waves have receaded
the evil has retreated
as your glance has destroied its dark
your love has prevailed again
victory is ours
yuour fire has been revealed again
and triumphed over the evil's black heart

and here i am standing strong
my sword drawn
and my shield at my side
i'm ready to fight again
for i have layed my pride aside
with the promise of a new life.
with the promise of a new life.

Friday, November 04, 2005

eyes awake

Eyes awake but tired, a body made of sand. A life lived in solitude, relying on one.
These hands have fallen
What was once my foundation,
Is shaken
And someone, or something
Has taken it away,
Moved in and taken its place
These faces
These ones that I once loved
Have turned away,
And turned gray,
Dull in the shadows
A voice rattles
Off the names
Of the ones that turned, ashamed,
Of the ones that learned my pain,
I stumbled,
And now I’m lying here in the rubble
I turn my face away,
Condemned, as the foot steps get closer,
And it starts to rain
My tears stain this page
Suddenly your blood
I can taste it
Falling on my face
Mixed in with the rain
You endured the pain it cost to catch the lost
And now your blood stains these pages too
Cause I laid down this cross
And lost the life you gave,
And now I’m crying out to you today
Knowing tomorrow, it will not have all gone away
There will still be the stains
The guilt and the shame
The scars and the pain
And I will cry out to you again
Knowing that, maybe today
I will be saved,
From the wrenched life I live
By the powerful love only you can give
Maybe someone could pray
For someone like me
Tell us to hold on
And not just that, but to encourage us to push on
And maybe step out of this space that we’ve called our own for too long
And let somebody else know and feel our hurts and know our wrongs
And carry our burdens alongside us
How long will we be left in these dusty shadows
How long will we fall before we reach a helping/ healing hand
How long will we be hidden
When will we be taught how to stand after we’ve let go of it all
Who will pick us up when we fall
Cause I feel myself falling
As blood and tears stain these pages
I turn and walk away
My face, dull in the shadows
A glimmer of hope set on my heart
A small shred
But still, it is there
Your gaze set upon me,
Your footsteps ever closer,
Your hand on my shoulder
Brings me hope.

Over the past few years, I’ve been somewhat falling away from God. And no matter how far I have gone, when I come back, he is still there to greet me, he is still there, running towards me when I finally make the decision to come back. Though I do, and my friends may, he will never turn his face away, no matter how much guilt there is, no matter how many names the devil rattles off.

When we leave, he cries out in sadness, when we come back, he cries out for joy.

There are no words great enough to describe his love for us.

For GOD is great, and worth a thousand Hallelujahs.
His terrible beauty makes the (worldly) gods look cheap;
Pagan gods are mere tatters and rags.
GOD made the heavens--
Royal splendor radiates from him,
A powerful beauty sets him apart.
Psalm 96:4-6

(The Message)

Monday, October 31, 2005

Oh my Soal

A Wave Has Crashed.