I remember the days when the breeze rattled us and the sun shone down, we held on through everything. The days of beauty, with the world below us as we floated together, so far above it all.
But the sun hid away, and the breeze turned into a whirlwind.
And we fell.
We fell like the leaves in the fall after summer, then disintegrated into dust under winter's cold fingers.

Now I'm coming apart at the seams, My every insecurity showing, like the rips and tears of a favorite shirt destroyed by years of wear.
I feel as though my tattered threads and frail stitches are going to be the death of me, and I fear the ending.
I've come to the end of me, and now I can't see anything.
I'm missing you more than I can express, the part of me that is so far away.
I need to be sewn back together.
You'll be the thread to patch me back together.

Prayer for Joshua Olds.

As most of you SHOULD know, my username comes from a Family Force 5 song. This band has been so important to me, and I have been following them so long I feel like I know them. Their bassist, Josh "Fatty" Olds, has recently come down with some kidney issue. As of last night, they transferred him to another hospital and called in a specialist. Today, there hasn't been much news, which the band is taking as good news. The band is asking for prayer, and I'd like to pass the message along. Here is their original bulletin:

Hey gang,
I'm sending this out with a heavy heart. Please please please lift Josh (Fatty) up in prayer for healing. He was admitted to a hospital last night after the show and today he's been moved to ICU. Doctor's say it's serious. They're calling a kidney specialist in.

If you pray. BE a PRAYER WARRIOR right now for Josh. Ask your friends from church to lift him up for healing.

Thanks everyone.

If you like them, or even if you don't, please keep them and Josh specifically in your prayers. They have just set out on a Christmas tour, and it would be hard for a family at home -let alone a band that is out on tour- to see their brother in pain.

THANK YOU,
~gabi

We all like to make-believe we're doing our best.
We know we aren't. We just like to think we're playing our part to the best of our ability.
There is always more we can do, More I could do. The question is, are we willing to make the effort? Am I willing to step out and practice the things that I say I believe in, or am I going to settle in?
Honestly, I've failed you.
Honestly, I haven't been trying hard enough.
Now is the time to practice what I preach, and I'm ready to do it.

By Death, I live.

I hesitate in saying I am qualified to say that Jesus is God. I have no title. I haven't been to college yet. I live in probably the most spiritually dead area in the US ( not talking about the No on 1/Yes on 1 thing, either). Sure, I grew up in a christian home with 2 pastors in my extended family. But I also go to public school. I am in theater. I am a rocker and somewhat of a rebel. Who do I think that I am?
I don't. Honestly, Everything I am hinges on Christ. Beyond Him, there shouldn't be much left. Everything I do, Everything I say SHOULD be out of the conviction that there was a gory execution with blood and horror that took place to make a better life for me. and for whoever wants it.
You know, the whole world has this screwed-up view of God that He wants nothing more than to "smite" us for making mistakes. But this is not the reality. The reality of God and his love is that he smote ( that is really a word?!?) his son, a part of himself, in order that we should be freed from our mistakes. God did not come to get ripped up, beaten and murdered just so that he could go back to his cloud and throw lightning bolts. He came to understand us, to live with us and show us the greatest love there is: someone willing to die to save us from ourselves.
The "end all, be all" of my life, the call to which I aspire is to live in a way that honors the one who died for me. To wake up screaming " By Death, I live."

I sit at the base of the tree and wonder how deep the roots go.
Do they reach deep into the ground, to keep the tree from swaying when the winds beat against the branches?
Or do they skim just below the surface, just praying that a hurricane won't tear them down?
Do the branches reach to the sky in vain, reaching for the clouds that will turn against them at a moment's notice?
Or do their outstretched arms invite the life-giving rain to fall and run down their leaves and hardened bark to nourish them at the core?
The more I sit here and feel the wind beat against my coat, the more I watch the leaves roll and crackle, I realize my uncertainties are misdirected.

The Actor

I wear a white mask
To distract you from my motives.
You see me? You see purity, gentleness and kindness.
But you see, my façade is working.
You and your people buy in to my deception, following me right up to the edge of the cliff.

I have you all.
All of you have bought in to my spell.
You think my thoughts, the things I speak in whispers drip off your tongue like the booze drips from the bottle.
You've listened to the things I say with rapt attention, worship and expectation.
But you don't understand my goals, you don't see my knife is at your throat.
My only aim is your destruction, but I would never let you see that.

I am the patron of liars. I am the master of disguises
and you and yours can never see, the death that hides
behind my pretty words and gracious gestures.
It's all in the script.
So follow me, I'll lead your way.
No need to look from side to side, no need to choose.
You'll see what I want you to, you'll do what I say.
So give me your heart, your mind, your hands and soul.
And in the end, I'll have it all.

I've heard your voice carried on the breeze.
Speaking words to me I never understood,
but thought I did.
I followed behind you, trying to tie all the strings up that you had just gotten off my hands.
I make a habit of undoing whats been done, of throwing myself into the fires that have been stamped out.
Somehow you still decide to take the time to pull me out of them, to free me again.
I don't know how you do it, or how I deserve it.
I've said this same thing a million times, and the words always come out the same.
Slowly, your words are beginning to make sense to me, or at least I think so...