One of those

I’m hurt but I don’t feel it.
Something of me is gone.
I walk the ground but
but I don’t feel the soil.
I use my hands
but I’m not whole.

They see me and
all walk away.
No touch am I allowed.
No love and no consideration.
I’m poor, rejected, on my own,
yet, I can’t live alone.

I’ve hurt myself
and still I do.
The sores are everywhere.
The greatest ache of all
I have, is not
feeling pain at all.
And still I hurt.

Some sores, have been done unto me.
Others, I’ve done myself.
The hardest pain
still is
that there is no pain at all.
If only I could feel.

There is no coming back
to wholeness.
No expectation, no hope for me.
Though, there’s a rumour
that in another land,
and in another time
One man has walked the earth
And touched my kind.

He made them feel again.
He gave them hopes and dreams,
He welcomed back to him
the ones they banished and
walked past.
He made them whole again.

I am one of that kind.
But blessed feet don’t
walk my land.
Rumours still go and come
onto the highways and the hedges.

I am still here waiting for
blessed feet to come.
Waiting for those hands
to welcome me.
I’m one of the unwhole.
I’m one of those they call
a leper.
(C) SFR 03/07/11


Eliberare din sclavia păcatului – D. Wilkerson

Îmi permit să public încă o dată articolul si video-ul pentru că e așa grăitor, de fapt îmi descrie perfect viața de dinainte. E așa de bine sa fii liber!! Tot meritul si gloria e a Lui.

Trezire Azi

Ne naştem cu o înclinaţie naturală spre a păcătui, cu o fire rebelă împotriva lui Dumnezeu şi toată viaţa avem de luptat cu îndemnurile ei spre a călca voia lui Dumnezeu. Deşi multe lanţuri de robie cad în momentul în care trăim o pocăinţă autentică, observăm că altele noi le iau locul, surprinzându-ne şi făcându-ne să exclamăm: “O, nenorocitul de mine! Cine mă va izbăvi de acest trup de moarte?”(Rom. 7:24)

Personal am fost învăţat, imediat după întoarcerea meu la Dumnezeu, că aceasta este lupta fiecărui creştin şi că o voi avea de dus până la moarte, cu victorii şi înfrîngeri. Ceva în mine se ridica împotriva acestei perspective sumbre şi mă făcea să mă întreb dacă nu cumva există o eliberare definitivă de sub această povară. Răspunsul îl dă tot Scriptura, în Rom. 8:2“În adevăr, legea Duhului de viaţă în Hristos Isus m-a izbăvit de legea păcatului…

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Hold your ground!

“I’m tired of all this iron,
exhausted of carrying on this road.
This sword is so heavy,
the breastplate weighs me down.
This shield is useless and I can’t bear it.
And on this steep hill
I’m tired of dragging up my feet.
My eyes grew weary of all the watchful hours.
Day in and day out.
I’ve had enough.
I break away now from this place. “

“ Hold your ground!
Under no circumstances
you run away frantically
in the face of your enemy,
throwing away your shield,
your breastplate, your helmet
your sword.
You’ll be dead the second
You take leave of this place.
Without me, you’re dead.
Thousands of arrows
will pierce your heart.

If you want to live
you carry this iron on you.
Though your armor heavy be,
You’re still alive, fighting for me.
Your weapon will find its use
When in my battles against the enemy,
The world and sin you’ll fight,
And quench the fiery darts.

There is no other choice:
You live, fighting along with me,
Or you die along with them.
You want to live, you fight
Every single day of your entire life.
The moment you stop watching and fighting
It’s when you will go down.

So, take heart, my soldier.
I have overcome the world
I’ve robbed the powers and authorities
And made a public show of them.
I triumphed through my cross.
Take heart, my loved one,
I have won.”


Creştini imaturi spiritual? – L. Ravenhill

Un mesaj de actualitate in vremurile de pe urma. Preluat de pe blogul

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„Fie ca mâinile mele să facă alegerea pe care a făcut-o El, fie ca picioarele mele să alerge în modul în care El a alergat.

  Fie ca ochii mei să-L vadă pe Isus. Fie ca buzele mele să vorbească spre slava Lui. Totul pentru Hristos!

   Toate puterile mele răscumpărate.

   Toate gândurile, cuvintele şi faptele mele,

   Toate zilele şi toate orele mele!”

                                                                                                                        Leonard Ravenhill

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“Honour God with your trust”.
It dawned on me like
the soothing rays of the rising sun
after a dreadful stormy night.
I cried over and over again
“Lord, help me trust you”,
but nothing seemed to change.
I am tired of fighting for survival,
keeping my head above the water,
all alone.

Worry, helplessness, confusion…
They, too, fight for survival.
No, they aim for destruction.
Raging, desperate cries:
“Don’t you care that I perish?”
Ravaged thoughts!
Shivering, I hand them over to him.
“He delivered him up for us all,
How shall he not with him also, freely give us
All things?”

Why do you say,
“My way is hidden from the Lord”?
He gives power to the faint,

When you have no might he increases strength.
When you faint and fall exhausted;
you wait for the Lord, he shall renew your force;

you shall mount up with wings like eagles,
you will run and not be weary;

you shall walk and will
not faint.

“What more do you want?
He’s your bleeding Saviour,
He wiped your slate clean.”
His blood purifies your conscience
From the dead works
to serve the mighty King.
You are more than conqueror,
through Christ all things you can do,
because he’s the one giving you

The last beat


A fist and a heart clenched in.

A fist wrapped around a heart

in a killing grip.

Squeezing the life out

Chocking it,

Hurting it.

How did I get here?

Without even knowing it

There’s not enough blood sustaining it

There’s something squeezing the life out of me.

So many things.

Don’t even know them by their name.

What a life…..

Half a life.

Pumping to half of its capacity

“be free, breathe, change” they hail

But how can I when there’s this

Killer fist dripping my blood

out of my veins?

“change, change” but they walk by,

With a sigh and half of a grin.

And I’m still here under this grip

That chokes the life out of me.

I cannot breathe and my heart

can’t even have a whole of a beat,

maybe the next would be the last.

SFR 20.01.13


Blessed are the eyes that
have seen
but your love.
Blessed are the ears
that only hear your voice
above the noise.
Blessed is the tongue
That only spoke
of wonders in your Word.
Blessed are the hands
That have worked
but to glorify Your Name.

Blessed are the feet
that only walked your way.

Blessed is the mind
Where thoughts of You
have only nestled.

Blessed is the one
who’s ever known
but splendour of
your presence.

Yet I have cast aside
that blessing and
traded it with curse.

Once my first parents
broke out
Into the knowledge
of good and evil,
They thought that they
had broken free.
Never has it occurred to them
that being free,
without you,
is sheer slavery.

It’s not only around me,
resides my very soul;
I’m sick of all the evil
That I’ve known.

The shadows in my past
They’ve shackle me.