The next chapter would bring buckets of joy and much laughter. After the weeping, had come much rejoicing.
And chapter one would round out with treks across a nation and the traversing of a mountain or two. I would be forced to separate from curly headed, blue eyed darling in order to protect her. And I would oh so quickly learn that parent (or protector) all too often means sojourning a road of sacrifice and heartache. And heart break. And mine would surely break a thousand times over as I parted with my blue eyed baby to create a safe space for her to be. For her to grow. Countless questioned me, judged me, criticized me and openly attacked me. But, Warrior Father was working to take her and I into a broad place, a safe space where we could begin to heal from a handful of years of violent attacks.
Young life so desperately needs a broad place, a safe space to grow.
And it begins in the womb,
that sacred cocoon.
That His skilled hand hath craft,
so enemy desperately desires to snatch.
A broad place, a safe space.
Young life needs,
and cries out for and pleads.
A broad place, a safe space.
It was given as gift to the whole of humanity. Given to every man, with the millions of masses, the billions of bodies, and this singular sanctity given to each and every self. A sacred womb, a holy cocoon — given to us all. Regardless of place or station or race — we were each and everyone intended to plant, bloom and come forth from this sacred place, that holy place. A little nugget nestled in mother's womb, safe from the gobbling guiles of enemy of our soul. Tucked away tightly, listening to soft murmurings of mother whispering words of blessing, singing songs of simple love, an eternity of enduring devotion.
The frantic world rumbles around and wars may rage but brand new life grows tucked tightly within and all of humanity has new hope. New life always bring miracle hope.
And enemy of our soul so deeply despises this singular gift given to the millions of masses, this singular gift that determinedly declares, "You are each and everyone so deeply and desperately loved by Father above Who carved this holy cave, a first gift given to each and everyone singular one!" And enemy despises each and everyone one and he subtly steals into sacred space and desires to bring violence into that holy place.
He hates the singular gift given to each billions of bodies.
Oh, men and women of God! How we must fight for this early gift of sacred cocoon, the blessed Mother's womb!
What do we lose? Those beautiful lives murdered when we say — oh you may choose.
But, whose choice was it really?
Did terrified mother truly choose? Or has years into decades of lies muddled the masses' minds? Did struggling mother actually grasp the sanctity of her own bodily gift? Did dejected mother ever hear that her body housed miracle hope? A new life nestled in her holy, singularly gifted space? Did she truly choose or has she just been doggedly deceived? Systemically stripped of the truth that lies within?
It was our first gift gifted by Giver to brand new life. Each and every brand new life was intended
to grow in sacred womb, holy cocoon. Gifting Father has given that but the lying thief has crept into sacred womb and stolen humanities holy cocoon.
We have allowed enemy to break our holy beginnings. A broken beginning. A stolen sacred sanctuary. And the soul of humanity languishes under the broken beginning. Languishes. Laments.
But, take courage, Dear Heart.
A Warrior Father is ready to redeem our broken beginnings. He is but, looking, searching, waiting for His redeemed ones to war with Him — to restore that which was rent from the heart of humanity. Our sacred womb, our holy cocoon made whole again.
Our broken beginnings give way to redeemed warriors.
Take courage, Dear Heart.
It is time to go to war. Time to restore our broken beginnings.
And chapter one would round out with treks across a nation and the traversing of a mountain or two. I would be forced to separate from curly headed, blue eyed darling in order to protect her. And I would oh so quickly learn that parent (or protector) all too often means sojourning a road of sacrifice and heartache. And heart break. And mine would surely break a thousand times over as I parted with my blue eyed baby to create a safe space for her to be. For her to grow. Countless questioned me, judged me, criticized me and openly attacked me. But, Warrior Father was working to take her and I into a broad place, a safe space where we could begin to heal from a handful of years of violent attacks.
Young life so desperately needs a broad place, a safe space to grow.
And it begins in the womb,
that sacred cocoon.
That His skilled hand hath craft,
so enemy desperately desires to snatch.
A broad place, a safe space.
Young life needs,
and cries out for and pleads.
A broad place, a safe space.
It was given as gift to the whole of humanity. Given to every man, with the millions of masses, the billions of bodies, and this singular sanctity given to each and every self. A sacred womb, a holy cocoon — given to us all. Regardless of place or station or race — we were each and everyone intended to plant, bloom and come forth from this sacred place, that holy place. A little nugget nestled in mother's womb, safe from the gobbling guiles of enemy of our soul. Tucked away tightly, listening to soft murmurings of mother whispering words of blessing, singing songs of simple love, an eternity of enduring devotion.
The frantic world rumbles around and wars may rage but brand new life grows tucked tightly within and all of humanity has new hope. New life always bring miracle hope.
And enemy of our soul so deeply despises this singular gift given to the millions of masses, this singular gift that determinedly declares, "You are each and everyone so deeply and desperately loved by Father above Who carved this holy cave, a first gift given to each and everyone singular one!" And enemy despises each and everyone one and he subtly steals into sacred space and desires to bring violence into that holy place.
He hates the singular gift given to each billions of bodies.
Oh, men and women of God! How we must fight for this early gift of sacred cocoon, the blessed Mother's womb!
What do we lose? Those beautiful lives murdered when we say — oh you may choose.
But, whose choice was it really?
Did terrified mother truly choose? Or has years into decades of lies muddled the masses' minds? Did struggling mother actually grasp the sanctity of her own bodily gift? Did dejected mother ever hear that her body housed miracle hope? A new life nestled in her holy, singularly gifted space? Did she truly choose or has she just been doggedly deceived? Systemically stripped of the truth that lies within?
It was our first gift gifted by Giver to brand new life. Each and every brand new life was intended
to grow in sacred womb, holy cocoon. Gifting Father has given that but the lying thief has crept into sacred womb and stolen humanities holy cocoon.
We have allowed enemy to break our holy beginnings. A broken beginning. A stolen sacred sanctuary. And the soul of humanity languishes under the broken beginning. Languishes. Laments.
But, take courage, Dear Heart.
A Warrior Father is ready to redeem our broken beginnings. He is but, looking, searching, waiting for His redeemed ones to war with Him — to restore that which was rent from the heart of humanity. Our sacred womb, our holy cocoon made whole again.
Our broken beginnings give way to redeemed warriors.
Take courage, Dear Heart.
It is time to go to war. Time to restore our broken beginnings.
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