PAGAN WORSHIPPERS IN THE CHURCH

I believe this one is going to help us all get right with God. Just click and read through: http://www.jesushousedc.org/blog/post/2012/03/27/PAGAN-WORSHIPPERS-IN-THE-CHURCH.aspx
Thanks family.

IF YOU WERE IN HER SHOES...

Good morning family and top of the day to you. Consider the scenario in this article and leave a comment on what you would have done if you were in a similar situation. http://www.jesushousedc.org/blog/post/2012/05/23/IF-YOU-WERE-IN-HER-SHOES.aspx

TOO FAR TO TURN AROUND

I remember when I first started this journey,
I was a total novice, an absolute stranger to the road ahead,
So, I stumbled a lot of times, scraped my face,
Bruised a knee, broke an ankle, even missed my way,

But I continued, I pressed on and I wasn't deterred,
Still, I didn't get better, sometimes I got worse,
But I was willing to learn, to change, to grow,
Hence, I was able to go a long way on this journey,

Now, years later, I still feel the splashing of the waves,
And I'm still often jostled by the gust of the winds,
But through it all I persevere and press on,
For I realize that I have now come too far to turn around,

I may not know what lies ahead,
I may not know what the future holds,
I may not even be certain of how to navigate,
The familiar but yet unpredicatable routes of this journey,
But I know this one thing: there is no turning back,
For I have come too far to turn around,

So, let time stop,
Let my world come crashing down,
Let me lose all I call valuable on this journey,
I will press on and hold on,

I will walk if I have to,
Crawl if I have to,
Creep if I have to,
I will even roll if I have to,
But turn around, that's not even possible,
For at the end of this journey, lies a prize,
Which the entirety of earth's wealth cannot buy,
Besides, I think I've come too far to turn around.

LOVE BIRDS: BEYOND DEATH-THE EXCLUSIVE TELL-ALL INTERVIEW

This is a recording of an interview I did on the book, Love Birds: Beyond Death. In this interview I talk about the inspiration behind the book and what lies ahead for me in the world of writing. You don't want to miss this. Just click and let me know what you think. Peace unto you and have a nice day.

WHO IS THIS JESUS?

While some argue over his birth,
Others debate over his death,
Was He really born?
Is He really the one?
Was His resurrection real?
Was His redemptive power surreal?
Or was He just a mere fabrication,
Concocted for deception?
Who really is this Jesus?

Is He black, hispanic, white?
Is He really the only way, the light?
How about the others,
Who did many wonders,
Why don't they matter,
Why does it have to be Jesus, they wonder,
Questions, questions, questions,
Skeptics, skeptics, skeptics,
Critics, critics, critics,

But surprisingly, while they pose,
The philosphical reasonings,
For the many questions they pose,
While they pull out the empirical data,
Scientifically, logically and often times fallaciously and narrow-mindedly,
While they present erroneous grounds for historical comparisons,
Citing similarities and undermining a genuine reality,
They fail to ask the most important question:
If this Jesus is all the bible say He is,
If He is the only way,
If He is coming back again for His own,
If Heaven and Hell are real places,
What does this mean to me?
Who is this Jesus?
Not to the world, but to me?

MOVIES' POEM

I was Coming to America when I saw Madea Goes to Jail. When I got to the airport, I met a girl who told me we could be Friends with Benefits, but when I told her I wasn't interested, she told me to shut up and Think like a Man. Upset and irritated, but determined and poised, I decided I will not Just Go With it. So, I picked up my phone and called The Driver of my Uncle's car; he answered and told me he was enjoying Talladega Nights and was kind of on a Hitch with The Girl Next Door. Despicable Me, I had lost my wallet and was now Stranded in The Town which I knew nothing about. But Lucky Me, I had my friend's Avatar with his name, address and number on my card. Mike was his name. When I called Mike, he told me he was playing The Hunger Games and that The Transporter was coming to pick me. He told me not to worry because The Transporter was coming with the Expendables who just defeated the A-team in a battle over the Edge of Darkness. Confused by Mike's story cause I didn't know what he was talking about, I decided I Can Do Bad All By Myself. After all, The Family that Preys was Mike's next door neighbors. Besides, Mike once told me about being Haunted by Angels and Demons with The Da Vinci Code. I was of the opinion that Mike sees an Exorcist 'cause he seemed sick.
But no one ever listens to me, they said I reminded them of Diary of a Wimpy Kid. So, I picked up The NoteBook and wrote Mike a Message in the Bottle. That was the last time I heard from Mike before he joined the Transformers who were on a mission with the Bourne Notice and a Bourne Ultimatum on Jason Bourne, Mike's old friend.
When I left the airport, I decided to go on a Walk to Remember, as I walked miles to a nearby restaurant which served American Pie. At the restaurant, I met The Lady in Red who told me there was a Rage in Harlem and that Harlem Nights were no longer peaceful. She told me she was The Lucky One who made it alive. Right now, she was Home Alone: Lost in New York, trying to make a buck.
TO BE CONTINUED

THE THRONE TO WATCH

A throne not built with hands,
A throne not built by man,
A throne so unhuman,
Divine and heavenly,
Heavenly and divine,
Such is The Throne to Watch,

Not a throne of fast monies,
Nor a throne of real phonies,
Not a throne of carnality,
Nor a throne of mortality,
But a throne of spirituality,
Such is The Throne to Watch,

Rags of clothes,
Papers of money,
Trash of beauties,
Insipid of fine wine,
Worthless of gold,
All insignificant before this Throne,

Hidden from the eyes of this world,
Unknown to the sons of men,
Masked from the high and mighty,
Concealed from the wealthiest of dust,
Revealed to the humbliest of earth,
Such is the this throne, The Throne to Watch.

DO YOU CARE?

Do you care?
That when we died,
No one was there,
That when we cried,
Everyone left us bare,
That we have become helpless,
That our situation seems hopeless,
And all that we ask is justice,
To live with peace,
Like the other children of the world,
And to breathe a breath of fresh air,
Do you care?

With each break of dawn,
A new phase of pain is born,
As we are continuously abducted,
Our brothers and sisters mutilated,
Our rights have been trampled upon,
We have gradually become,
Children invisible to the world,
That not a word of our words are heard,
But visible we are to our captors,
Visible we remain to our abductors,
Only invisible to those who can help,
Do you care?

Our voices have been stifled by the hands of brutality,
Our cries drowned by the rivers of inhumanity,
Our plights have been ignored by a wave of indifference,
Our pain overlooked by a shrug of complacence,
And as we sit here in hundreds,
Lie here in thousands,
Unsure of what our tomorrow holds,
Unaware if there is even a future for us,
All we ask is do you care?

Deep from the realms of eternity,
Far beyond the borders of mortality,
We can hear the voices of those killed,
The cries of those mutilated
The pains of those battered,
The songs of those shattered,
They are the voices of our brothers,
The cries of our sisters,
The pains of our fathers,
And the songs of our mothers,
Who have been killed,
And whom we have been made to kill,
All they ask is do you care?

Would you fold your arms and watch us cry?
Would you fold your arms and watch us die?
When you can do something to help,
When you can reach out your hands and help,
Our voices can be heard through your voices,
And our future can be secured through your choices,
But do you care enough, to not just read this piece,
But do get up and do something to secure of peace and justice?

Dedicated to the Invisible Children Inc.
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