Liquid Lust

Everyone wants or wants to be the whore. We wouldn’t call her that, of course. She would be mysterious and difficult, but still sexually available. You know she has “experience.” If we stop and think rationally, of course this seems ludicrous. But we’re not talking about rationality. We’re talking about desires. All the girls want to be her because all the guys want to win her. She’s sexy. But she’s subconsciously an object. To be or to possess. Even the good Christian guys admit, when desire overwhelms rational thought, it’s that girl they want. The one who seems untouchable, but who everyone has touched. And even the good Christian girls want to be her, because there’s a lure of being desired and relentlessly pursued. The culture tells us sex is the pleasure upon which everything else in the world hinges. It is the display of our status and wealth. It can make or destroy you. There are only consequences if you get caught. Sex is the only reason you are possibly going to be desirable. Who pursues the prude? We have become a culture dripping in lust. And no one is exempt from it. No one. Men objectify women and women objectify themselves. We have stopped fighting, and we’ve started to believe. Even those who attempt to push strongly against the culture push back because they feel the drips on their skin. It’s not righteousness that drives them, but the fear of being overwhelmed. Sex is either our god or our demon.

But wasn’t it supposed to be something beautiful?
Wasn’t it supposed to be something holy,
Not dirty?
We have polluted its name
We have made it our idol
Like Hosea, You find yourself
Married to us,
The prostitute.
The willing whore.
Forgive us,
Not for the desire,
But for the misuse
And abuse
And excuse
We’ve made the desire.
We drown in the liquid lust
Of our culture.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
And it glides down our skin.
Savior, rescue us from our sin.
And help us to learn to love again

Beauty of a woman

For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair, let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.
For poise, walk with the knowledge you'll never walk alone.
People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived,
reclaimed, and redeemed; Never throw out anybody.
Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you'll find one at the end of your arm.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands:
one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.
The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she
carries, or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes because that is the doorway
to her heart, the place where love resides.
The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman is
reflected in her soul.
It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows,
and the beauty of a woman, with passing years, only grows!

Love Is...

Love is when you wake up, he is already on your mind.
Love is when you lost your heart, he is all that you canfind.
Love is when you want to be the one to dry his eyes.
Love is when you see the truth in every one of his lies.
Love is when you want to listen to all his whims and woes.
Love is when you want him to take care everywhere he goes.
Love is when he calls you, your heart goes a flutter.
Love is when you see him, "I love you..." you silently stutter.
Love is when you tell the world that you love him so.
Love is when you've told the world, but he doesn't know.
Love is when you know you'll still love him when he's lost his hair.
Love is when your eyes light up when you see him there.
Love is also when you hear your heart break when he held hands with her.
Love is also when you crumbled as you hear them say that it will last
forever.
Love is also when you cry inside yet smile outside when they say hi to you.
Love is also when you held your breath and said, "How do you do?"
Love is also when you let him go, you know he is happy now.
Love is also when you know you'll get over him somehow.
Love is also when his happiness is what matters to you.
Love is also when you let him love her, and not love you true.
Love is when you'll still love him...and still, he'll never know.
Love is when you'll swallow the pain and slowly let go.

Woman

A woman is the calm of a hurricane's eye
where a man finds transquility
as the storm passes by

A woman is the softness inside the shell
when the shell is bonbarded
by man's creation of hell

A woman is the pillar of a temple foundation
where a man comes and goes
with renewed inspirations

A woman is the cloud that carries the rain
giving life to man's soul
parched from anxieties and pain

A woman is the bank of the river flows
helping man's direction
by being the woman she knows

A woman is the sound of a Lark's song in the morning
when mist covers life
and man feels forlorn

A woman is the emotions
shared with a man
the climax of giving
by the touch of a hand

A woman is the flesh that holds the seed
the miracle of birth
fullfilling human need

A woman is the mother of a new generation
a man is the direction
of that aspiration.....

Respect Woman