smoke in the clouds

It always amazes me how the trivial can seem so big. In myself, in others-- these matters of the utmost mundaneness, spark arguments not worth their weight. Their voices rising while I turned the next page of This Voice in My Heart- a book of truly tragic proportions-- genocide, cruelty I can not imagine (and the gentle forgiveness only Jesus brings.) If only we remembered, this life is just a vapor... There is no place in my life for violence- either in action or word. And within the church, I think many of us are guilty of the later. Violent words that wound, tear, and scar-- sometimes deeper than an action would. There is no room for unkindness, for harm, for tearing down. Every man is capable of the worst atrocities- and only through the innocent offered blood of Jesus are we freed from our own evil. Only from following his example of humility, of preferring others above Himself, of coming as a servant, taking the form of a man...

How sweet the Name of Jesus sounds
In a believer's ear!
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.
It makes the wounded spirit whole,
And calms the troubled breast;
'Tis manna to the hungry soul,
And to the weary, rest.
..Weak is the effort of my heart,
And cold my warmest thought;
But when I see Thee as Thou art,
I'll praise Thee as I ought.
Till then I would Thy love proclam
With every fleeting breath,
And may the music of Thy Name
Refresh my soul in death!