Jesus loves me and I love Him, that’s the bottom line. I could never do anything good enough to deserve His love. I could never be bad enough for Him to withdraw it. He loves me, it’s simple really, so what’s to worry about.
Life is simple so it seems
As the sun above us beams.
Does not count the times we fail
Through the thunder through the hail
It keeps on beaming down its light
Behind the scenes and out of sight.
Even so our Father stands
Ever offering His hands.
Youth is not lost which was spent in earnest coinage, days exchanged for experience, for life! A day not wasted if drained in deep draught till the last drop. Not lost, not wasted, rather stored away, their transitory substance exchanged for solid coinage of the realm of life, time transmuted to lasting substance, things in the heart and mind which can never be erased. Youth is not lost but transformed, a thing of wafting beauty refined to solid gold.
It came to me watching the waves. It was only when, wind-driven, they smashed in foaming glory on the pebbled shore or crashed in fountained spray against the concrete posts, that their strength and beauty were revealed. Beyond they were only brackish, sludge coloured, waters. Then, transformed to gleaming white, they made music, flung their arms to heaven, a cause for exclamations of wonder at their magnificence and glory. Even so I have seen in life those wind-driven, flung upon the rocks of despair, show forth strength and glory, soul transformed to purest white.
As I look back over so many years, it seems I’ve lived a hundred lives, of many types and forms, swirling colours and moments of intensity. Yet tasting life’s abundance, I yet found it lacking.
It is those moments that remain, times of intense intimacy with God, and with others.
As a child I was often alone, my lack His opportunity. Now life has been full, I’ve enjoyed friends, children and yes, love. Times when I was so deeply in love all else was extinguished, and times of utter loneliness.
Through it all, most special, have been those times when God’s presence became a tangible thing and whatever caused this close connection whether pain or joy, agony or euphoria became dim and unimportant. Such moments remain vivid stars in my galaxy of life.
Song Bird Songs 