This is Not the End!

                                 [Exciting things are happening.]

Ren's Writings

Here are two poems written by Renita Zook...a dear friend and talented writer

I happened upon two roads one day

And the one was high, and the other low

So I stopped and stared in bewilderment

Wondering on which I should go

The high road was narrow and rough and steep

And the other was smooth and wide and long

So I picked the road that looked best to me

And went on my way with a song

But my song soon faded the farther I went

As I choked on the dust in the air

And the bushes had thorns I had not seen before

And I fell into briar and snare

I struggled and fought to get out of the traps

Till I was bleeding and broken and bruised

I desperately cried and called for help

But no one could hear, 'twas no use

Then a Man came along who was gentle and kind

With a voice that was soft and sweet

And he helped me back up the lower road

And he bandaged my aching feet

I tried so hard to get back up the path

But so oft I stumbled and slipped

But the Man beside me just picked me up

And pulled me from bramble and dip

The crossroads were now in sight again

Much to my joy and relief

But I could not pause, I must keep on going

And my rest was very brief

"You must choose a road," my Helper said

"You cannot sit in between"

I looked in His eyes and felt a peace

For His face was calm and serene

He held out His hand to guide me along

And I took it, and hung my head in shame

For I knew I'd taken the road I shouldn't

But it was athen He spoke my name

"All if forgiven" was all He said

But the words freed my guilty heart

Neither trials, nor storms, nor man's evil schemes

Could ever tear us apart

So I've traveled the high way from that day forth

And will till I cross the strand

For I've a Friend who will help me along

It's the Man with the scars in His hand

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Will He be with me to the end?

The God I scorned and truned my back against

I saw Him on the cross and turned away

His broken, bleeding body brought me to shame

I left him alone to die

And walked away to follow the world

Oh, I stood by HIm when He cleansed the leper

I boasted whe He healed the sick

And set the captive free

My heart swelled with pride as

the lame danced, and the mute sang

And the blind rejoiced to see

But when it counted most

I was not there

Alone He had to face His enemies

Alone He bore the slashes of the whip

the mocking of the crown

the spitting, the slaps, the crown of thorns

I could not even come to bear His cross

Alone He felt the nails pierce His hands

Alone He bore the sins of all mankind

I heard Him when He cried aloud

"My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?"

I saw Him die upon that hill

Alone

Heaven's Heart ♪

Michelle Tumes is one of our favorite singers, partly because of the beautiful composition of her music and partly because of the depth and creativity of her lyrics. This song is called "Heaven's Heart". The lyrics are below.

How can I resist such tender love
Deeper than the deep blue sea
Love as constant as the morning tide
Let Your love wash over me
Let Your love wash over
How can I resist such gentle love
Whispered on the evening breeze
Love as soothing as the moonlight
Let Your love shine down on me
Let Your love shine down

Heaven's heart was written in the stars
Before the mark of time
Your heart and mine were destined to entwine
You're calling, calling to me
And I'm falling into love
Sweet love, so heavenly

I feel Your presence all around me
With me everywhere I go
Through the road I take may wander
Love will always lead me home
Love will always lead
It's a deep and wondrous thing
This mystery I know
I feel heaven reaching down inside my soul 


Thanks for watching. 
~Kelsia and Cherie


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Crazy Love

Kelsia wrote this, and Cherie put it to video. You may remember when she posted this writing. Here's the video; hope you enjoy it!

Quotes for the day

To all our dear blog readers....

Here are some quotes for the day.

They're not profound but I like to think they have some meaning:)

"LIFE is not lollipops,

Sometimes you have to be okay with just the stick."

and another...

"Never let the fear of striking out,

Keep you from playing the game."

any guesses where this comes from?:)

and another...

"IF you judge people...

You have no time to love them."

Love all people. Love without reserve. Love the unlovely. Love like Jesus.


kelsi barkman

Don't Cry Too Long

In Memory of Amber Miller

written by Lydia Yoder

MY TIME HERE WAS SO SHORT

And I wish I could've lived out my life

         And done all the things

I dreamed of doing "when i grow up".

But when I saw the look on Jesus' face

        And heard his welcome,

        I couldn't stay,

Though I hated to leave you.

So don't cry too long,

'Cause all my pain is gone

And my body is brand-new

No more bruises and no more scars.

I run through lush, green meadows

       On my two strong legs,

       My long, silky hair

Streaming out behind me.

       When you grieve

Because of the childhood days I'm missing,

       Remember that I'm playing

At the feet of Jesus

Or sitting on His lap

As He tells me stories

Of  His life on earth.

As you imagine

What a beautiful, joyous bride

I would have been,

Think of the utter bliss if feel

As I bathe in the light of God's presence.

When tears fill your eyes

Because you will never

Hear my laughter ring out in my children's voices

Or see my sweet smile

On their faces,

Remember that I'm singing with the angels,

Free from heartache, disappointment, or sorrow.

I'm happy here,

And although I know you miss me,

Don't cry too long,

For if you make preparations,

I will see you soon.

I'm anxiously awaiting

Your arrival in heaven

And will be the first at the gate

To greet you.

Homeless

This is a poem sent in by Kelsey. Take the time to read it and notice the mind pictures she paints. Have you ever passed someone like this in the streets?

Worn and hungry,
Tired and abused,
Cold and hurting,
Lost and confused.

Oh, but the others!
They walk on by,
Never a glance,
Never meeting her eye.

They all get caught up
In their own little lives,
Never thinking of what
It's really like.

She wonders if they
Know what it means
To live in a box
Out on the streets.

She wonders if they
Have ever known,
The lost feeling
Of being alone.

She wonders if they
know what it's like to skip a meal
If they have any idea
How it really feels.

She wonders if they
Know what its like to hold a sign
Hoping that someone
Will give tonight.

She wonders if they
Know what it's like
To sleep in frigid weather
For the entire night

She doesn't understand why
Their comfort takes first-place
And why they don't seem to notice
Her hungry pleading face.

They say she is dirty
Yet they never gave her soap,
They say she looks too hopeless
Yet they never gave her hope.

They don't stop to imagine what she's feeling
They don't stop to imagine what it's like
They just go about their day,
Never caring about her life.

She's out there on the streets,
Watching them walk by,
Wishing they would stop and help her,
She just wants to cry.

Worn and hungry,
Tired and abused,
Cold and hurting,
Lost and confused.

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The Ball

It's a waltz for the elegant
and refined.
The ballroom is alive tonight
with colorful hoop skirts swishing in every direction and
glasses clinking.
White-gloved hands extend gracefully for a
polite kiss.
Feet are moving everywhere, from the
practiced steps of the dancers
to the elderly gentleman tapping his
toes to the music
to the
slippers of the child hiding
under the table.
Music sets the evening's tempo
and mood: happy and exciting. The
orchestra in the corner sways as the musicians
play,
violin, viola, cello and a big double bass
blending into a symphony.
Old maids beside the punch table
gossip of engagements and scandals.
Some painted young ladies are falling
in love with dashing young men
or rolling their eyes at their friends as a
klutz steps on their toes, or
fanning themselves by the wall and wishing they would be
asked to dance.
In the far, dark corner,
the negro girl in
a maid's outfit
stands still, holding a tray of glasses.
Her feet ache,
but she is
twirling inside.

~Cherie, 17
[Critique welcome.]
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Websites!

This site has a lot of fun, useful writing tips and resources.
(Oh, and a word of the day:)
http://dailywritingtips.com

This site has three very inspiring posts.
http://whitelaceandpoetry.wordpress.com

This site . . . is AWESOME. :)
http://www.be-a-better-writer.com/creative-writing-tips.html

The Thunderstorm

is rising far away,
and the far-away is getting CLOSER.
I can almost smell the storm now,
so I am certain it is real.
The idea of a thunderstorm is a frightening one. Exciting.
Things have been the same for so long . . .
Safe. But dry. Very dry and unchanging.
My world is steady, but not growing.
I'm standing outside, trying to remember what a thunderstorm
is like.
I've only seen one or two. Small. Years ago.
But this one is different. I sense it in the restless wind. This storm will be vast and powerful, leaving nothing unchanged.
I survey the landscape around me. There is my house, the small cottage in which I've always lived. In the back is my garden. It's having trouble growing, but I'm not even sure I like vegetables.
There are worn dirt paths, here and there,
telling the stories of the few places I have walked.
And there stand my beloved trees. Surrounding my house is a little forest of them, and my favorite ones are scattered closely in the yard.
What would a storm do to them? To everything?
In my mind, I picture the wild wind tearing off branches and floods of water washing some trees completely away. Washing away anything I can't hold onto.
Washing away me . . .!
If this thunderstorm comes, my world will not be the same. The life I've always known will change. The landscape will be different.
I dread the storm. Stay away.
But . . . it compels me . . . rolling in the distance. It will take away normal life, but what if it brings something better? It will wash away the dust and change everything. It will change me.
My heart is pounding. How long before the storm comes?
Will it come? If it passes, I will have missed something. I will have missed the power and excitement of watching it wreak havoc in my dilapidated life.
I can feel the chill of rain on my skin, the wind nearly blowing me over where I stand.
The thunderstorm is coming.
The thunderstorm is change,
and I think I want it.
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Cherie, 17



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QUOTES FROM KYLA

 "TALENT alone cannot make a writer. There must be a MAN behind the book."

"Nothing goes by luck in composition. It allows no tricks. The best you can write will be the best you are. Every sentence is the result of a long probation. The author's character is read from title page to end. Of this he never corrects the proofs."

And a diamante (dee-AH-mun-tay) written by Kyla herself . . .

                 BLACK
       unpleasant, disdainful
 corrupting, ensnaring, reproaching
hatefulness, guile, purity, loveliness
  appealing, cleansing, purifying
        unspotted, desirable
                 WHITE
               


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LYDIA'S SUBMISSION

YELLOW

...Golden rays

Piercing through towering thunderheads

...Someone who is afraid
To stand for what he believes
...Cheerful black-eyed susans
Lifting their heads
To the sun
...The breast of a carefree meadowlark
Trilling a beautiful song
...A small rubber duck
Floating
Amidst a mass of bubbles
...The legal pad of a eloquent lawyer
...Autumn leaves
Drifting along
On a gentle breeze
...The warm feeling that surges through my body
When something thrills me
...Frilly daffodils
Waving gaily
In the fresh zephyrs of spring
...Laughter bubbling
From an innocent child's lips...

by Lydia Yoder
at age 15
2007

TODAY

TODAY, see life as half-full, instead of half empty.
See how blessed you are instead of all that's wrong.
Today, thank God for everything He's done instead of
Telling Him all that He's not doing or should do.
Today, love your life and forget about the unfairness in it.
At least you're not dead. At least you have a chance. Take it.
Go all out for God. Follow your dreams.
Today, look beyond your tear-filled eyes to the one up above.
It may be raining now--but remember--there's always
Sunshine just beyond the clouds.
Today, sing 'God's' song, even when you have no song
Left to sing. Even when the notes begin to falter. Even when
You're singing all by yourself. Ask God for that everlasting melody.
Today, ask for God's strength instead of trying to do
Everything on your own.
Today, choose life. And love. And laughter.
Today, bring God the the sacrifice of praise.
Even when you don't feel like praising him, do anyway.
Bring God that sacrifice.
Today, be all that you can be, because there might not
Be a tomorrow.
Today, live with purpose.
Today, remember the good in life and the good memories.
Let the rest wash away. Let Jesus heal your heart.
TODAY,
Rejoice. Because God created you...
Because you are special and
Have a beautiful plan to fulfill.
TODAY,
Choose God.


-Kelsi Barkman-

TABITHA'S WRITING

God, You're kind of hard to figure out.

You are scholarly, inventing the hundreds of languages we speak,
Writing the laws we try to obey

You're also delicate, swirling your brush across the sky,
And leaving behind blues, purples, pinks, and reds

Your power speaks in the rushing turbulence of white water
Pushing its way between high walls of stone.

Your innocence comes through the cry of a small baby,
Expecting to be fed

You are wild as the eagle, soaring above the water,
His talons outstretched as he dives for a silvery fish

You, oh God, show me Your stubborness
Like the wild goats with locked horns,
You refuse to give up on me.

Through the roses, the butterflies, the hummingbirds,
I see Your beauty... how You delight in that which is good.

I see Your love in the giving up of Your son
To pay for the times I mess up.

But most of all, I see Your humor,
Your love of a good laugh,
When I look at me.

*by Tabitha Thompson*