Choose your words in season,
harvest them when they are ripe.
Paint with color and some reason,
not always within the lines.
©Joel Tipple
#40/14
Choose your words in season,
harvest them when they are ripe.
Paint with color and some reason,
not always within the lines.
©Joel Tipple
#40/14
People underestimate the value of tears.
It takes more than sun to make the flowers grow.
Tears wash away disappointment and brighten the corners of smiles,
give reflection to fears and season our years.
Swim in or run through them but don’t forget to exercise your tears.
©Joel Tipple
#39/14
God
help me clear the clutter
reduce the noise
of my life
narrow my focus to what’s essential
first of all
your voice
tune my awareness
of your spirit
as I go about my day
slow down the moments
so I pay attention
lest I miss
what you say
you gave all
for my sake
called me home
set me apart
since you’ve made it new
I look to you
the architect of my heart.
©Joel Tipple
#37/14
I guess I’m a walking judge
making calls on what I see
but is what most disturbs
a reflection of what’s in me?
Best to clean my own abode
moving from room to room
before lending a hand to others
thereby fostering a loving view.
© Joel Tipple
#36/14
Somewhere a saint is praying.
Somewhere hope is held out to the night.
Somewhere a restless soul is stirring,
gearing up for a spiritual fight.
Somewhere a child is kneeling,
A little one’s prayers have wings to fly.
Forbid not the children, Jesus said,
for of such is the kingdom.
Uninhibited,
their pleas to God,
no limit to their sky.
Somewhere a prayer of thanks goes up.
Somewhere a fearful parent cries out.
Somewhere a soldier’s spouse prays alone.
Somewhere a family prays as a loved one breathes their last,
while next door joyful prayers greet a newborn.
Prayers go out to save a marriage, a home, even a life.
Someone questions and prays for an answer.
Someone prays in the sand, drawing like a dancer.
Someone prays with groanings,
unable to find the words.
Some pray with desperation, not knowing where to turn.
Somewhere someone’s interceding,
standing for those who can’t.
Some pray sacrificially
putting themselves in the gap .
Somewhere a saint is praying
Somewhere hope is held out to the night.
Somewhere a restless soul is stirring,
gearing up for a spiritual fight.
© Joel Tipple #35/14
Wouldn’t you like to be
a patron of the hearts?
The love of Jesus feeds the body and soul
it seems.
Let’s not neglect one for the other,
for such could be the foundation
of whole hearts
and dreams.
© Joel Tipple
#33/14
Time used to say, “I’ll see you someday,”
now it says, “Just a second.”
The sand used to float languidly down,
now the grains jostle shoulders, rushing toward the gap.
© Joel Tipple
#32/14
when an account is made
at the end of your days
did you spend it all
or did you pocket change?
© Joel Tipple
#31/14