First Things

Sometimes, to stir the coals of the spirit woman, one must go back to the first things, the simple worship and dancing foolishly before His thrown, the morning devotional book, the prayer, and the Bible reading, and not doing because one has to...but from the heart....

Joy comes like the first moonbeams of the summer's eve, and the newly twinkling stars of the night sky...so pure and so sweet.

~ Morria

Of Bare Feet and Bicycles...

I am a gypsy of sorts... nothing makes me happier than to dash about with my feet bare.  To splash about in the puddles of a summer thunder storm.  To dance in the rain and feel each drop caress my face. Aye, that is what makes this gypsy goth gal dance.

I long for the open road, just me and my bicycle, "Meg".  If it were up to me, I would set off a crossed country just me, "Meg", and whatever I could fit in a bike trailer.  I would stay at churches, visit friends, and just be free.  Would that I were healthier, so that I might do it!

~ Morria

Balm

Hands of Mercy, Hands of Grace, Flowing down from Thy Divine place. 
Words of Love, Words of Joy, Dancing into my immortal soul.

Look of Peace, Look of Promise, Shining out from Thy Holy face. Soothing balm, Soothing clam, Have now You sent to me

 To fill this my bitter hole. 

© 2004 MMH/MMN

~ Morria

Broken Wings...

Being a fool for Christ is not that hard, when you have been a fool anyway.   LOL.   Then again, a fool for Christ is a totally different breed of fool.

Living day to day is so strange and new...this is an exciting adventure.   I am now able to slow down and not worry so much.   If I have a job tomorrow, I will.   If love lasts, it will.  If food is here, it is.   I am not as far as I need to be, but it is a start...and wow.  Open road for this gypsy gal is returning soon.

Filling out job apps today.  LOL. We’ll see how that goes… my luck not too far. Also, made a new friend in Robby "Jesus Freak" Nickles... he is a good guy.

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Fallen Angel with broken wings,

The ash clouding thine eyes.

When will the dust settle,

And the ink turn green?

Fallen Angel with broken wings

The ash choking thy song,

When will the air clear,

And  the music ring true?

Fallen Angel now restored,

The ash now flown away,

Now the ink is green,

And the song is true.

Write and praise now, 

Thy Holy King.

© 2004 MMH/MMN

~ Morria

Tattered Souls

Bitter sorrow and torment, we sent Thee to.

Suffering and pain were Thy lot,

Until by death You did part,

Then to life returned.

Why did You call these tatter souls Thine?

Why do You want us at Thy feast?

We who did betray You to Thy DEATH.

Why it is we do not know,

Yet here in the shadowlands,

Beside the old worn cross faith does come alive,

As Thy holy blood cleans this tattered soul.

© 2004 MMH/MMN

~ Morria