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My Christmas PrayerMy Christmas Prayer
He I am Lord on my knees.
The wind is blowing,
waves crashing against the shore,
confusions surrounds me.
A mother screams,
the father paces,
a child cries,
my heart breaks from the sadness.
An old woman looks in the cupboard,
an old man stands on the corner his coat all torn,
a family huddles in their car for warmth and sleep,
my heart breaks from the need they are walking through.
I look into their eyes,
heard their words,
felt their dispair,
my heart breaking from their discouragement and pain.
Hear me oh LORD I pray.
To the mother, give her courage.
To the father, give him strength.
To the child, give it comfort.
To the old woman, give her fullness.
To the old man, give him warmth.
To the family, give them a home.
Dry their eyes and let them shine with love.
Let their voices ring with joy and thanks.
Let their hearts be peaceful and happy.
Lord, you have blessed me richly and beyond, so it yo
Two Angels At The Fork Of The RoadTwo Angels At Fork Of The Road
Before me stands two people.
Their appearences are both the same.
Their voices are the same pitch.
Their eyes are full of promise.
They both offer their help.
"Follow me and your journey will be quick", one says.
"Follow me and your journey will take a little longer for the road is narrow and steep.", says the other.
"Follow me and you shall have an easy trek." one says.
"Follow me and you shall have rocks and bolders to step and climb over.", says the other.
They both offer their advice.
"Follow me and you will have all that you need and desire now.", one says.
"Follow me and you will have all that you need to see you through this long journey.", says the other.
"Follow me and you will be admired and welcomed.", one says.
"Follow me and you will be persocuted and despised.", the other says.
Again, they bother offer their advice.
Looking first to one and then the other, my heart mixed and churning, I called out to GOD.
"LORD, help me to be strong and do w
SweepAs soon as he stepped into the open field, he slung the minesweeper from his shoulder and pointed its nose to the ground. It was old, worn and heavy, and old and rough, calloused and breaking, and old. The metal between his hands was cold and chilled his fingers. If he was not careful he could step on the very mines he was trying to find. They would have to pick up the pieces of his body and to send the tags home where his wife would cry and hold his son and daughter close with nothing to show them of their father but a piece of metal engraved with "Ajeet Singh".
One sweep, than another.
This war had taught him to never trust open spaces. Open spaces were where the mines were planted, where Prets lay in wait. France was green and damp just like the uniform he wore. It had been days since he was separated from his unit, and now the Allies were breathing on his neck, searching for POW’s, searching for the enemy of which he was one. &
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More