Words to Think Upon

Something has swooped into my life and touched my heart deeply. This Sunday evening I sit in my room thinking of things that have been forced aside for a while now. Thoughts ringing in the recesses of my mind of Christ; barely dwelt upon as other thoughts rushed to crowd these thoughts out. A poem came to my mind as I sat and listened to an amazing musical group called Zion's Voice. Their message is one of Christ and His life, but also of how we should be leading out lives. I talked with one who accompanied me this evening about their impression of the musical fireside. The response was one that I had not realized, but then again, it had been a year since last I heard this group share their talents; the response was one truer than true... that we all could be better friends. Also, a song I have been listening to recently has resonanted with my soul and heart. In many of my classes, subjects of hurt without cultural boundaries has been discussed at length. Normally, I am very much an idealist and see hope in the darkest corners of hurt, but in many of the painful fears that I hold close to my heart all I can see is an empty hope that cannot be answered.

The words to the song "Prayer of the Children" has ushered in a sense of peace to my soul and longing for my Lord's attention and care in my life again. The words are:

Can you hear the prayer of the children?
On bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room
Empty eyes with no more tears to cry
Turning heavenward toward the light

Crying Jesus, help me
To see the morning light-of one more day
But if I should die before I wake,
I pray my soul to take

Can you feel the hearts of the children?
Aching for home, for something of their very own
Reaching hands, with nothing to hold on to,
But hope for a better day a better day

Crying Jesus, help me
To feel the love again in my own land
But if unknown roads lead away from home,
Give me loving arms, away from harm

Can you hear the voice of the children?
Softly pleading for silence in a shattered world?
Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate,
Blood of the innocent on their hands

Crying Jesus, help me
To feel the sun again upon my face,
For when darkness clears I know you're near,
Bringing peace again

Dali cujete sve djecje molitive?
(Croatian translation:
'Can you hear all the children's prayers?')
Can you hear the prayer of the children?

The poem I wrote as I was internalizing the music sung by Zion's Voice came as a way to clear my mind and revel in the Spirit's touch. My soul is still ringing with the now seldom touch of the Spirit. I have not done anything worse than I used to while growing up; just the opposite actually. It is just more difficult for me to remember how to feel the Spirit anymore. Days and nights are busy with school, and being an RA and just life in general has helped me to forget that which I wish my life revolved around: Christ and His sacrifice. He bled a drop of blood for me, and when I find myself thinking in terms like that, I feel a love that runs deeper than any known telestial love.

Amazing
There are no words
To describe and express
My heart's reaction
When I hear of my Lord.

Shivers run down my spine
Snatching away my words
Wrapping my heart in warmth
Causing my soul to rejoice.

Jumping into my throat
Pumping my life's blood.
This heart of mine
Resonates with my spirit.

Thoughts clutter the reaction
Stealing away the chance
Of basking in purity,
As I hear of my Lord.