Love is a Storm

Wild as the icy wind, screaming across the high plains.
Love is a texas thunder storm, crashing and flashing in my night.
A tornado of emotion, that rips me from my sleep,
and hurls me breathlessly to the ground.
This storm of love, grasps my heart in its vise like grip.
It breaks my mind with its savage wind.
When the danger passes and calm follows,
It brings healing and hope to my tortured soul.

For you my love, I will set my heart against the storm,
and trudge on thought, till safe on to the other side.
I ride in its eye, with violence raging all around.
My love for you is a storm, which can never be tamed.
Lightening flashes, thunder crashes, hail, wind and rain.
Healing rain washes away the dirt, filth and stain.
This love I have, is like the aroma of a fresh summer rain,
I inhale it in wonder, exhale the satisfaction, drained,
to discover peaceful rest in the calm that follows the storm.

You take my breath away; leave me hanging on for dear life.
I rise to launch myself once again into loves raging fury.
Risk, danger, adventure, mystery and wonder await me.
Your love for me is a storm, untamed and free.
My love for you is a tornado, spinning, devouring, scattering debris.
I will risk all in the raging storm that races toward me.
Love is a storm; I am your storm chaser, racing after your love.


I love you Nelma

Bob

Life, A Sadder Day

The Easter weekend those of us in the western world, consist of three days. We tend to focus mostly on two of them Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. First of all the term Good Friday is a misnomer, because that fatal Friday was filled with denial, devestation, desertion and death. Resurrection Sunday is a day marked by Sunrise, seeking women, surreal discoveries and a living Savior. Between these two days we wait, we hide in our upper room, behind locked doors and hope beyond all hope for the waiting to be over. We pray that the enemies of our Lord will come for us as they did for him. We live in the desperate,uncertain anticipation of Sunday, but tremble in terror because it is still Silent Saturday, the day when God is still and silent.

It is Saturday, the day of the cave and grave, between death and resurrection, this is sadly the real world where we all currently exist. The day of terrible, dreadful, oppressive and deafing silence. It is a world where evil appears and even views itself victorious, cruelty controls the seats of power in the world of man and terror and torture are triumphant. A dreary, debilitating darkness obscures the Sun and clouds our hearts. The graves are still filled, everywhere we turn sin holds sway and death devours, destroys and devastates God good creation. It is our appointed time upon this spinning orb, when we live out our lives on a dying planet among desperate dying people. Saturday is a day of fear, dread, loneliness, doubt and loss, when we wait in an uncertain anticipation, a faint hope of Sunday. We live out our earthly existence between death and resurrection. We are stuck in muck and mire of the sty that is Saturday but we dream of Sunday for we are a Sunday people.

We wait for the uncertain Sunrise of Sunday in eager anticipation and with bated breath for the chains of death to be broken. We yearn after, long for Sunday's healing anointing. We hope and trust in the seemingly unbelieveable promise of the resurrection's reunion. We tremble in fear behind closed, locked doors because it's Saturday, but when reunited with Jesus, when he stand in our midst, we touch his hands and feet all things are new and we are healed, whole, redeemed, we believe and confess "My Lord, and My God!"

I live in "Sadder Day" but I belong to Sunday....

Bob Phillips