The Touch of the Master's Hand

Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
thought it scarcely worth his while to waste much time on the old violin,
but held it up with a smile; "What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,
"Who'll start the bidding for me?" "A dollar, a dollar"; then two!" "Only
two? Two dollars, and who'll make it three? Three dollars, once; three
dollars twice; going for three.." But no, from the room, far back, a
gray-haired man came forward and picked up the bow; Then, wiping the dust
from the old violin, and tightening the loose strings, he played a melody
pure and sweet as caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer, with a voice that was quiet and low,
said; "What am I bid for the old violin?" And he held it up with the bow.
A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two? Two thousand! And who'll make
it three? Three thousand, once, three thousand, twice, and going and
gone," said he. The people cheered, but some of them cried, "We do not
quite understand what changed its worth." Swift came the reply: "The touch
of a master's hand."

And many a man with life out of tune, and battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd, much like the old violin, A
"mess of pottage," a glass of wine; a game - and he travels on. "He is
going" once, and "going twice, He's going and almost gone." But the Master
comes, and the foolish crowd never can quite understand the worth of a soul
and the change that's wrought by the touch of the Master's hand.

Myra 'Brooks' Welch

Never Failed

 "Trust in the Lord with all your heart..." Proverbs 3:5

Truth.

I ask.

He gives.

He has not failed me.

I ask again.

I wait.

"Not yet." He says

He has not failed me.

I ask, anew.

"No." He says

I wonder.

Has He failed me now?

Indeed, He has never failed me.

I Feel Like Writing Again

Take my life, Lord
You know my strife
So much like Hosea's wife
Nevertheless
Out of this mess
You have saved me
Set me free
You have opened my eyes
Shunned the lies
Truth is
Without this cross I am at a loss
I now take a seat
This I wish to repeat
Simply sitting here at Your feet

Love To Worship Spoken Word

Dear God

Dear God, I praise You for who You are:
My All in all, above all, nearby-- yet beyond the stars.
You’re not limited or clueless, the answers are in You.
My battles you have fought, while giving praise was all I had to do.

But this time is different…I cannot feel Your guiding hand
If You don’t intervene, I don’t know how much longer I will stand.
You see, on my heart I bear a burden; it is the size of a dear friend.
No, my friend is not the burden; it’s the way she’s struggling.

My friend is beaten, weary, and confused.
 I’ve tried to help her and make you shine through.
But honestly I’ve only grieved her more and increased her doubts
I wanted to say the right words, but they didn’t come out.

So right now I ask for me to get out of the way and You to enter in
Please encourage my dear friend and help her to believe again.
Open her heart to grow in faith and hope and love
Because lately she has lost faith and hope in all of the above.

I know You see her with a set of eyes that are divine,
So if I’m hurting from what I’m seeing, I know You are not blind.
No, You see and count her every tear of pain
And every broken prayer is not uttered in vain.

She says she’s failed again and wonders if You see her trying
Please remind her that it’s in her that Your Spirit is abiding.
She thinks her burdens are her own to bear…
But You clearly urged her to cast on You all her cares.

Leaning on Your understanding is her prayer of late,
But she just can’t fathom why You don’t seem to cooperate.
She feels as if You answer prayers and put stars and rainbows in the sky
Not for her, but for better, more worthy girls and guys.

However, deep inside she knows this is not the least bit true,
But the lies and insensitive words she keeps hearing are louder than You.
She knows You and wants to believe You care
But with her being one of billions, she fears You don’t, and then despairs.

This friend of mine is not opening up because she thinks she’s all alone
Please help her to spread her troubles out before Your gracious throne.
Thank You that Your mercy toward her endures forever,
Even if right now she cannot see happily ever after.

I want to help my friend and give her all the answers,
But I surrender her to You because You are the One who paid her ransom.
You are the One who bled for her, and won’t let any pluck her out of your hands.
You are the One waiting for her, never forsaking her, You are the Son of Man.

Even if her spiritual eyes can see Your plans too dimly,
Remind her that You have given her living water to drink freely.
Nudge and soften her to relinquish to You her will and her heart
Because You’ll work things together for good to bring her out of the dark.

I ask all this in Jesus’ name as I hear You knocking on her heart’s door
Of course, You knew already that it’s me I’m praying for.



by Tanya Vasilik

You Speak

*

Hold my breaking heart close
Hold on tight, keep it safe
Wrap me my Lord, in your precious embrace.

Hold on to me tight, Lord
My thoughts are so scattered
My heart is so weak, soon it will shatter.

I wait for an answer
Though none seems to be
But I know that you’re always holding on to me.

For what do I wait?
Is it worth it, my Lord?
Teach me to trust in your faithful Word.

I remember your promises
You have for me, a plan
I remember Abraham, the stars, and the sand.

I kneel in your presence
You tell me, “come sooner than late.”
So I come. I come and I wait.

I surrender my all
Though it hurts, and its hard
I lay down my life; my cares and the scars.

I know that you love me
And You know that I’m weak
I will be silent. Jesus- You speak.

Poem by Dasha Zhemkova.
I had to share this, it seems that I am having these exact thoughts and she beat me to writing them down. God bless you honey.

Torture, oh Torture!

Torture, oh torture!
Inside and out
My blood has been spilled
On the ground all about
No pain can compare
To the ache that I feel
My wounds are too deep,
They won't ever heal.

Torture, oh torture!
I gave you My heart
You threw it away
You tore it apart
Pretending that I
Was worth nothing to you
You treasured the old
And cast out the new.

Torture, oh torture!
I wanted to heal
You fled from My care
You wanted to steal
I mourned for My loss
I cried out your name
You left Me alone
With nothing but shame.

Torture, oh torture!
I offered you grace
You laughed at my tears
You spit in My face
They shouted and cheered
You joined in the throng
They wanted Me dead
You joined in the wrong.

And still My heart cried out to you.

Torture, oh torture!
My vision goes black
These nails bite My wrists
This cross burns My back
If only you knew
The truth of it then
If only for you I'd go through it again.


Thank you Myron Vasilik, for allowing me to share this poem.

That One Girl

That one girl is the girl I met on our trip to Buryatia and she renamed my pillow pet without my consent.
She's the one I can stay up with till four in the morning. 

She's the one that laughs at all my dumb jokes. 

She's the one that would sing you a lullaby to sleep.

 She's the one to eat jam and bread with in dark closets even though there is a light switch. 

She's the one that will cook up a storm.

 She's the one that is so beautiful but she won't believe you.

 She's the one that I can make up raps with in a squished car with boxes falling on our heads. 

She's the one you can quietly listen to music together with.

 She's the one I would drive 3 hours to and not even care.

 She's the one I learned to chop (like a pro) with. 

She's the one to pray and study the Word with.

She's the one to teach you amazing Russian songs that you have never heard before. 

She's the girl who deserves an amazing man. 

She's just that girl that I can connect with and I see us in the future never loosing touch no matter if we are married or not. 

She's the girl who has the same dream as I.

That one girl is Mia.   

Life

I would like to share a personal diary entry with you, I believe I wrote it last year.

I drew a little speck (*) (I'm a visual person if you don't know) on the left of the entry; the top of the page says "birth" and on the bottom is "death", the speck is towards the top, but quickly falling down, signifying my and your short life.

birth
.
.
.
.                            I'm this tiny speck falling from the sky...
.                                             What will I do with my short time here?
.*                                                      Use my energy to make who happy?
.
.                                                              1.) You?
.                                                                 2.) Me?
.                                                                    3.) Others?
.
.
.
.                                                   give me wisdom.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
death

Falling

            I've stumbled...

                         and tripped

                                     my whole life.

                            Now, I'm at the point where I have to ask You...

                               Please,

                     teach me to fall,

         teach me to fall in love with You.

                                               This is the one fall I want to jump into,

                                    I'm clumsy,

                         prone to failure,

                   accidents.

                        After all these years,

                            I still need a lesson on how to fall...

                                                                    How to fall in love with You, Jesus.