Hate and Love

Submitted by Damaris Ann on Wed, 02/17/2016 - 15:34

This life is like a road we walk,
And as we walk along we talk
Of unseen things and things above,
Of things below like hate and love.
But hate and love are heav'nly, too;
My God hates sin; I do, do you?
Do you show love along the way,
Make sacrifices every day?
For that is love; you'll see, 'tis true,
God loved the world, and me, and you
Enough to give His only Son,
He ransomed every chosen one.
He died on the cross:
Suffered pain, not loss,
To hold us and keep us,
To save us, redeem us.


Submitted by Julie on Mon, 02/01/2010 - 22:26

Where am I?
                                                                                                    “At my inn. You were unconscious
                                                                                                               When he brought you here.”

In My Father's House

Submitted by Kyleigh on Sun, 06/15/2008 - 10:22
In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?
“And a one, two, three, four… off you go.”

Piano, mezzo piano… crescendo, bit by bit… mezzo forte… forte. Fortissimo. Pizzicato. Back to bowing, now accelerando… Fermata. Rest… A rap on my elbow to fix my positioning… slur, accent…