God is LoveDoesn't matter if you're: Gay, Bisexual, Black, White, Spanish, Yellow, Purple, green with red polka dots, Atheist, Agnostic, Muslim, Any other religion out there, a hippy hugging a tree, a basket case, or dead.More Like This
God Loves everyone the same.
He is not a respecter of persons.
He Loves you as though you were the only person alive.
If you were the only one who sinned in the entire world, he would've still sent his son Jesus to die for you on that cross anyway.
Go to him as you are! - He will tell you what is wrong and what is right in his eyes.
He Loves you more than you could ever fathom.
Give your life to Jesus, go to him as you are...
....and He WILL show you the true and ONLY way to Heaven.
He will reveal to you what is right and what is wrong.
He Loves you all, but hates sin.
Follow Jesus; He is the Narrow Door. - "Luke 13:24"
God Loves you; yes YOU!!!
Receive the Living Water from him and thirst no more
Be blessed in Jesus' name
Dear StrangerDear stranger,More Like This
You’ve got bright eyes
Not eyes I see
But what hides
I hope that days
Are bright like you
With blue sky weather
That love would spread
White wings about you
And your bright eyes
Would shine for ever.
UnspokenAs I stood before youMore Like This
In the hurricane
I touched your face
But had no words to say
The tears falling
From emerald eyes
Said all that could be.
6. WatchmanWhile galaxies are all yours to commandMore Like This
You spend your days beside me without cease,
And nights are never lonely, for you stand
A watchman in the darkness, bringing peace.
Your universe of glories is untouched
Compared to what the human mind may know,
And yet in all its splendor, light, and such,
It's less to you than I, and how I grow.
The proof of this is seen in your release
Of all of Heaven's glory for a birth
And life and death among us--we the least,
Of all deserving of your gaze. This earth
Has seen you die and live again for grace,
And all there is of love is in your face.
Lent 4- BloodI spend my days bathed in crimson,More Like This
and the scarlet covers my stains.
Blood can drown a multitude of sins.
The drops fall from my fingertips
and bloom as lilies in the parched dust.
I am the colour of the setting sun.
This is the blood of Man, the blood of God.
It washes away the slaughtered bull,
bears away holocausts in its torrential flood.
It is the blood of the living, yours and mine,
spilled from the veins of the unborn and the ancient,
all who have been and will be.
We are the children of blood,
richer than wine, sang real,
dyed ruby, the colour of life.
Perfect ContritionIn a proper Catholic church, everything echoes. Any sound uttered within the building bounces of the floor and the walls and the high, vaulted ceilings, so much so that I imagine that they could easily reach the ears of God himself. It's a rather poetic thought, the voices of mere mortals ringing towards Heaven with the help of good acoustics, but that thought's tempered by the fact that it includes every single noise: the coughs of emphysemic old men, the rustling of an impatient young girl's dress, and the taps of even the softest rubber-soled sneakers are no exception. On rainy days like this one, those shoes tend to squeak, which probably hurts God's ears as much as it does mine. If I didn't feel like I had to be here today, the noise would be enough to drive me out the heavy double doors.More Like This
I didn't make it in time for Massand I honestly wasn't in a rush for it anywayso the church is mostly empty save for the few waiting in line for the confessional. This church h