God owes you Nothing..

         God isn't just here for decoration or a painting on a wall or a pretty gold-bind book on a shelf.
He's not a black or white cross hanging around someones neck.
He's the moon on a dark night.
He's the sun on a hot day.
The snow on a winter afternoon.
That noise released from an animal; a human.
The first cry of a newborn baby.
Those goosebumps on your arms and legs when you hear something amazing.
He's the first breath you take when you wake up every morning.
He's a blink of an eye. A smile. A kiss. A laugh, a cry.
He's there when a loved one dies.
He'll be there through all my doubts, all my fears and all of my temptations.
He's there when I'm scared, when I'm happy, upset, begging for mercy or grace.
Wishing for something as simple as a storm to get me out of this place.
..and then He is that very storm
He's the first word I spoke, and He'll be the last.
He was there the first time I got kissed.
He was there that night I wish I wasn't of existence..
That night I was taken advantage of..
begging to be alone under the covers in my own bed.
He was there for my first heartbreak.
He is the smile on my face after realizing that not everything in life is bad.
I mean, how could it be? ..He made it.
He sees every tear that I cry and He was there when I denied my Grandmas death.
He was there for her first breath and her last..
He sees every tear-stain on my pillow case and He knows why each one is there.
He understands my frustrations when no one else does.
He's the medicine that soaked into every flesh wound when I let depression take the best of me.

He's every color, every paint stroke that creates something as simple and beautiful as the Mona Lisa.
He's every stone that was skipped by a young man, sharing his sadness and anger with nature.
He's the each and every single hair that blows gracefully in the wind, and even the not so graceful ones that fly in your face.
He's someones enemy, someones friend. Someones beginning and someones end.
He's an apple from Wisconsin, an orange from Florida.
A seashell from Mexico and a sand sample from Puerto Rico.
He's the hands that build homes and feet that run races.
He's the look on the winners face in the 2011 Olympics.
He's the start and the finish of every relationship I've been in.
He's everything good, everything I want.
My desire and my hope.
He's every beautiful note played on a piano , every strum on a guitar, every beat a drummer plays.
The strings on a harp.
He's the harmony of a song that sings of His grace.
He's everything except small.
He'll be there when I slip into my wedding dress..
and walk down the aisle with my hand in His.
He'll be the one to give me over to the man I spend the rest of my life with..till death do us part.
& He'll be there in the car, in our new home, with us as we go to work everyday.
He'll be every pixel I take to share another moment of love-just like mine.
At every wedding, every engagement.
He'll be the very tears that fall on the rose pedals because of how beautiful and breathtaking love truly is.
He is the very movement of my wrist to be able to write each and every sentence in an honest, vulnerable manner.
He is what calms the waves at night and makes them roar during the grandest storm.
He is all of the answers to all of the unanswered questions.
Where did we come from?
Where do we go?
He is a one of a kind author and He is writing my story.
he was the first thought in my head when I decided to write this all down on paper.
He's the burning in my heart.
He is my heart, He's every heartbeat.
He was the first and He'll be the last.
He'll be all the memories when they remember me..
Lord, I pray that even when I pass away, my remains remain.
He whispers burn and I turn to ash.
He is love unlike a lovers or a mothers.
He has the love no one can hold onto, for our hearts are too small..
To fathom that He was on that cross as I continued on with my worldly desires.
I created a pattern of pain for me, for Him.
I was the nails.
I was each drop of blood.
I was every thorn.
Every ounce of pain he had, was me.
I was that knife in His side.
I was mocking Him and I was laughing at Him and I was killing Him on that day.
With my own sin.
I'm the murderer of Jesus Christ, of love.
All He did was love me and say:
"Forgive her Father.. for she knows not what she does.."
written.. July 24th 2012