The hills are alive with the sound of music With songs he have sung for a thousand years the hills fill my heart with the sound of music My heart wants to sing every song it hears
My heart wants beat like the wings of the birds that rise from the lake to the trees My heart wants to sigh like a chime that flies from the church on a breeze To laugh like a brook when it trips and falls over stones on its way To sing through the night like a lark who is learning to pray
I go to the hills when my heart is lonely I know I will hear what I've heard before My heart will be blessed with the sound of music And I'll sing once more
I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth.
HAPPYFATHER'SDAY!!!
It's 9:30pm on Father's Day, I hope it is not too late!
Happy Father's Day to all the fathers!
mmmmm, I don't even remember when was the last time I drew for my dad... here it is again, hope he would like it... though it is so immature....
Here it is the digital version to all the fathers out there, of course the real limited original drawing is for my dad alone! haha
I was working on a tree stump for the past few weekends.
While I was sanding the rough tree stump into a smooth surface, on which I can at last lay my hands on it without fearing any splinter would hurt me, a thought suddenly came into my mind:
Is that why Jesus was a carpenter?
It surely takes much time and effort to remove the bark, to sand off the splinters and hairs, then finally carve it into a beautiful piece; there are quite a bit of hammering, pulling and sanding involved. While doing mine, being that closed to the tree stump, sanding the splinters down while touching it gently with my hands, I could almost "feel" how painful it is for my tree stump. However, seeing it changing bit by bit, potentially transforming into an awesome furniture, I could almost "see" a little girl with a head of messy and dirty hair turning into a beautiful lady with straight and shinning long hair floating in the air, smiling at me, then my heart was delighted.
At all those moments I was working on the stump, I thought: is that not what our God has been doing to our life? A lot of carving, stripping, moulding and shaping have happened and will continue to happen until we become the way the Carpenter wants us to be, then and only then, we are transformed into the "beautiful" vessel as He wills. However, have we ever realized that, all this effort and patience that our Carpenter has invested on us, it is NOT to make us satisfied being a pretty vessel, BUT it is for the Carpenter's satisfaction and glory (I would even say ONLY) - just as I was turning the tree stump into a tiny side table, for sure I lie if I tell you that it is merely to make the abandoned tree stump happy and feel restored itself.
May it be a reminder for all of us, of course, including myself.
I was looking at books for inspiration for my next drawing, I flipped through a book about Michelangelo, I read the following passages in brown. Every human beings, even the big master on earth, are all sinful. Our sinful nature and our lustful desires are overwhelming this world - no single exception, but BUT the good news is that the Carpenter picked us up from the lost forest, brought us home and guide us through; His Grace is enough!
There is no other image in my fancy Of naked shadow or of earthly flesh However high my thought, such that my wish Can arm itself with it against your beauty For, leaving you, I find I sink so deeply That every power I have Love steals and strips In hoping to make my pain diminish It doubles and comes prepared to kill me So it's pointless for me to strain and fly And redouble my enemy beauty's run What's slower can't escape from what is fast Love with his hand can cause my eyes to dry Assuring a reward for all my pain And it cannot be trash at such a cost ______________________________ I wish you beautiful eyes see gentle light While mine are so blind I never can With your feet, in my back can bear a burden While mine are crippled, and have no such habit Having no feathers, on your wings my flight By your keen wits forever drawn toward Heaven As you decided it I am flushed and wan Cold in the Sun, at the cold solstice hot My wishes are within your will alone Within your heart are my ideas shaped When you have taken breath, then I can speak It seems that I am like a lonely Moon Which our eyes fail to see in Heaven, except The fraction of it that the Sun my strike
"...But my rose, all on her own, is more important than all of you together, since she's the one I've watered." “You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
Jesus said,“It is finished.”With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. (john 19:30) At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom (Matthew 27:51).
You tore the veil
You made a way When You said that it is done
At the cross I bow my knee
Where Your blood was shed for me
There's no greater love than this
You have overcome the grave
Your glory fills the highest place
What can separate me now