A piece of worship.

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Father God, Lord, Beautiful Savior.
All I want is worship. To worship You.
I crave worship. I need to worship.
It hurts so good to worship You.

What to do, where to go, Abba in worship.
Lead me, show me. I need to know You more.
What it means to worship You. I need to worship You.
Not successful in working a lifeless position.
You’re too alive and inside of me. This is my unfulfilled lifelong destiny.

To worship You. To worship You. To worship You.
I was made to worship. I was created to worship You.
This is my lifelong destiny, to worship You.

Abba Father, Lord on High. Beautiful Savior, Bridegroom God.
I long to worship. I need to worship You.
I need to love You. I am loved by You.
Oh sweet Love, sweet Lover. How you love me tenderly with an unfailing love.
I am loved by You. I need to worship You.

I am loved. I am loved. I am loved by the Beautiful Bridegroom Lord.
Open up. Open up. Open up. Jesus. Jesus. My sweet Lover Jesus.
Teach me. Teach me. Teach me to worship You.

Sweet sanctifying King, it is my desire to worship You.
In the morning I will sing of Your unfailing love.
In the evening I will sing of Your unending deeds.
I will worship You from morning to evening, dusk till dawn.
I will sing. I will sing. I will sing in worship.

Father King, Beautiful Savior I need to worship You.
Show me. Tell me. Whisper to me. This is my undying destiny.
You’re alive. You’re alive. You’re alive inside of me.

Release me out of this cage tied down by the religiosity of the world.
I was made in intimacy for worship. Intimacy to worship you, uncage me.
Set me free, release me from bondage and fear. Set me on fire to worship.
I was born to worship. This is my destiny, to worship You.

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Today I have had this burning desire, flamed inside of me to worship. This is a little something created by this desire. I'm yet to know what this piece is supposed to be, maybe just a piece of worship. It started off as a prayer, but mysteriously I could feel the pounding and rhythmic beat of drums pounding from within as I wrote.

Holy and anointed One

Jesus, Jesus

Holy and anointed One

Jesus

Jesus, Jesus

Risen and exalted One

Jesus

Your name is like honey on my lips

Your Spirit like water to my soul

Your Word is a lamp unto my feet

Jesus, I love you, I love you

I came across this song in my 'little red hymn book' this morning. What a beautiful song to worship with, over and over I played it. How His name is like honey, so sweet. How His Spirit is water to my thirsty soul. How His Word is a lamp that lights my path. How I love You, Jesus. I love You.

dandelions and baseballs

I seem to look everywhere for green fields? I'm not talking about rice fields either. The smell of the freshly cut grass, oh how I do miss this smell. The excitement and butterflies that you get as you step up to plate and wonder how the pitch is going to come in this time, absolutely thrilling. The feeling of the dirt being rubbed under my cleats as I always kick off before heading off of first (yeah I know... who kicks off right?), anticipation. The white dust and red dirt that smokes into the air as you slide into home-plate, scary all the while exciting. The longing to dodge the bat and hear the smack and clinging as the ball flies into the air, with the hopes of course that it reaches outfield (shouts of praises if it goes beyond), blam to say-baseball high. I love the dynamite experience as you blast it towards the fence. I can't forget to mention the double take my arm always pops as coming abought on a throw, ah what memories the green field brings.

I was pondering past game memories in class today, I will mention a few.

• (memory 1) year: 1988 I began to play softball when I was 5 or 6 years old. Keep in mind that at this time that I was young, easily distracted, and would randomly wander off to pick flowers while singing and making up songs in my head. :-D You could say that I was a day-dreamer and space cadet. I won't admit that I'm still like this today, maybe I don't have too if you know me well. Oh how my mother and coaches gave me much grace during my first year at the game. I have to say that I didn't play much, but I sure did enjoy putting my glove (which I still have) oh my head and seeing how many spins I could do until I fell down. I remember at one time picking dandelions and putting them in the creases of my glove, all the while missing the balls that came in my direction of the outfield. Hey what can I say.... I was only a 'peewee'.
  
• (memory 2) year: 1993 I was in 4th grade and can remember anticipating all the softball games but hated the outfield. My favorite position was shortstop, even if I was short. Yea... if you think I'm short now, I was pretty short then too. Softball was one of my highlights at this time. At this time my grandmother was really sick with cancer, so it was one of the times we were able to get away from the hospital. Most people have memories of hot-dogs from baseball games, not me. I would have to say that it would have been the pink sparkly laffy taffy. I swear I ate about 10 each game and they were the extra big ones! I think I'm craving one right now... it's a surprise I didn't get cavities.
  
• (memory 3) year: 1997 One of my last years in high school to play. As much as I loved the game, my rebellious period kicked in.
  
• (College) Softball longing drew too strong, rebelious years died down, and I broke down and joined a league. That summer I had a nice trip down my apt. stairs and broke my foot in 5 places! Softball out for the summer, so disappointed. :-(

Where oh where art thou fields?

Memories, memories, memories I say. 'sigh' how I miss home today.

piers of preparation

As I entered the dusk scene, I gazed out onto the water as I gently stepped onto the wooden pier. Barefoot I walked farther away from the shore while all the time drawing nearer to its end. What beauty the water brought as the night was coming down. The colors of the almost gone sunset, dark yet lovely, appeared upon the horizon of the water. I stood on the weathered wooden landing, breathing in the presence of the Lord and the beauty of His creations. Worshipping the Lord upon Zephaniah, assuming to be alone I felt another presence. Glancing to the right, another wooden pier came into sight as it mirrored the exact one of my very presence. I saw you once again, but this time in a different scene. Always dark you seem yet mysteriously beautiful. Faceless you appear, while your heart shows the beauty and love of your soul. You stayed in my sight and did not vanish. As I looked down upon my steps, my heart longed to be next to yours. I longed to see your eyes as I tried to lock my view upon you. I couldn't help but notice the distance of separation between our piers. The stillness and mist of the water was calming but I knew that it was not in either of our power to cross. As I turned my eyes upon you again, I only felt your soul. I felt your soul intently look upon mine, as the loyalty of a dove's gaze. As I stood at the end of the pier, you stood at the end of the other, the water being the distance between our shoulders. I felt the presence of the Lord in all of the beauty and couldn't help but to worship. Although there was no voice, I felt our hearts worshiping together. As we stood on separate planks and outwardly gazed upon God's beauty, we could do nothing but give adoring reverence to the Creator of it all. As we stand on these piers of preparation, I anticipate the day that we may be fully revealed to one another and set sail. To sail off into God's beauty while serving shoulder to shoulder.

"'Then will I purify the lips of the peoples,

that all may call on

the name of the Lord'

and serve Him shoulder to shoulder."
Zephaniah 3:9

1,999 words

"A Biblical Synopsis of Worship's Relationship to a Specific Ministry." I chose the Eucharist (Lord's Supper/Communion).

Why do I always wait till the last minute to do assignments that have been given months in advance? I'm using the excuse that I work better under pressure. Although I believe that I write well and in most cases with passion, that doesn't mean that I always want to write-even if it's on a topic that I'm passionate about. All weekend I tried to get started on my mid-term paper for our ministry and worship class. Here's how it went down...

2 months earlier: doo... doo... doo... no research done. no paper done.

Friday: doo... doo... doo... no research gets done.
me: "Lord, I pray that you give me paper topics in my dreams."
No dreams occurred. :-(

Saturday: doo... doo... doo... went to the gym, met C for coffee, doodled in the rain.
No work gets done.

Sunday: IT"S A SABBATH!!! No work gets done.

Monday: doo... doo... doo... worked, went to the school library for research.
Research done, paper not started.
me: "Lord, please help me dream for more paper ideas or scriptures."
Dream: I dreamed I was doing my paper all night, but didn't remember anything
else when I woke up. geesh! You'd think with my dreams, I could at least
remember someth'n!

Tuesday: 5AM woke up, 6Am woke up, 7AM woke up, got up at 8AM. Started paper at 1PM.
Finished paper at 1:00AM Wednesday Morning!

Wednesday: 1AM writing this blog. On my way to edit my paper! Then turn it in to
turnitin.com for plagiarism check... mandatory for all students.
PAPER DUE AT 8:30 AM!


So after all is said and done, a half pot of coffee, 12 hours of paper typing full of ADD tendencies, the most beautiful day of Spring yet-lost while I sat and typed in my shoe-box, bed sores developing as I cont. to sit in the same spot for the entire duration of paper typing, and now for the grand finale... drum role please.... dun... dun... dun... 1,999 words!

Wednesday: 1:29 AM I'm off to Edit.

ptL!