Sun Chaser: 03/20/11

Sunday, March 20, 2011

E-mail updates

Hey,

I had someone ask if they could receive e-mails when I posted something new. You can! Drop to the bottom of this page where it says Subscribe To: posts. Follow the link and it's really easy to set up from there.

Thanks for reading :D

My Passion

Do you ever hear a song and wish it had been you that wrote it? This is one of those songs for me. They lyrics speak so powerfully. The song is My Passion by Jesus Culture from their album Come Away.

I'm alive to bring, glory to You, King.
God of victory, You are my passion.
It's in the way you are, You don't change at all.
Great and humble God, You are my passion.

My strength in life, is I am Yours.
My soul delights because I am Yours.
Your will on earth is all I'm living for.

Jesus I glorify.
Jesus my love is Yours.
You are my heart's desire.
I live to know You more.

Light that breaks the darkness, showing what true love is.
Always full of goodness, You are my passion.
You never do me wrong, the meekest man but strong.
The most perfect song, You are my passion.

Where I'm from

I am from library books, from SPAM, eggs, and grits for breakfast, five days a week.

I am from a trailer on half an acre, from a clover and weeds lawn standing up sharp like beard stubble.

I am from blueberry bushes in fall, and strawberry patches in spring. From potted mint leaves on the steps, and the water-stained wood around it.

I am from octopus hugs and un-funny jokes, from Mema, and Papa, and Grandaddy.

I am from five different types of crazy, and everybody talking at once, from “I’ll love you forever” and “Homey don’t play dat.”

I am from Baptists and BBN, from a preachin’ daddy and a silent mama.

I’m from Wake Forest, North Carolina, from riblets and collard greens.

I’m from the scar over my little brother’s left eye where I hit him with a rock, and the family read-alouds when mama “did all the voices.”

I’m from melted audio tapes and VHS recordings of me and my brother’s adventures, from water-damaged half-finished scrapbooks, and smoke-stained photo albums worth so much more than the house that burned down around them.