Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Nemam zborovi


I'm so proud at my friend Alek a.k.a."Urban mystic" for writing this poem that i must publish it. I think he is so prophetically to the point with this poem that i stand in sheer amazement. Enjoy!!!

COSMIC FIGHT FOR THE URBAN YOUTH

Urban youth. Urban myth. Urban split.
Split and destroy! Make it nice before it dies.
Yes baby, it's all about you. You!
Your dreams, Your life. (For the birds meat to eat.)

Dark shades, voices unseen, keep you blind,
and more, more, give me more of this stuff, you cry.
More of this "nothingness", more to fill the the void screaming.

To kill my pain, I close my eyes, I writhe in shame.
Oh, Lord, Oh, Something, the good cries in me.
I won't give up, "Love" I say, "Love" I say.
Kneel! Kneel! Fall! Quick! For a dark blast,
a black wrath is moving angry and furious.
Fall now! Fall and be quiet…quiet…quiet.

I lie with my face on the ground and look!
Water, red water, bloody water is running all around me.
Lift your head now and see! See where this water flows from and run!
Run now and don’t turn back. Run as fast as you can!
As I run, I feel warm inside. Something will happen, that I know.

I came to the source, just three words, Mercy cover me

Aleksandar "Urban Mystic" Madzarovski

Monday, February 13, 2006

Bigger than ourselves



Me and four other friends went this weekend to a leadership retreat. Our plan was to plan and seek the Lord for the future of “Glasnost”, the church that we are starting together with around 30 young people. It was a good time, a little bit less spontaneous than I expected but there are times when we need to be practical, and put some legs to our dreams. The thing that really touched me while we were praying was that I realized that all we do and dream is bigger than ourselves as individuals, we can’t take credit about what’s going on, for it is inspired by the Lord himself, he has prepared the hearts of the people to respond to the vision, and he is giving us enthusiasm to go for it. I have growing sense in my heart that this year we’ll experience significant breakthrough and see The Kingdom expand in the youth culture, and I don’t think it’s hype but a real thing.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Head's prayer



My Prayer

Dear Friends,

my prayer has begun
With the rising of the Son
And I know that I did what I should have done
My heart feels happy, my feet feel light
I am now ready to join in the fight

I refuse to sit, locked up in a pew
When I have been given something to do
Too long we have let the answer sit still
As our enemy strikes his sword to kill

I stand up from my pew, my heart is sure
I yell out, "somebody open the door!"
I hope I've made you see, at least I tried
My question is, "why just sit here 'till we die?"
...Why just sit here 'till we die?

Some may ask, "who has this person become?"
I am a divine reflection of His son
I am a man with a cross on his chest
Until His will is done, I will not rest

I am not in a box, or stuck in the past
Remember that "the first will be the last"
In Greek "X" means truth
And Generation X has grown out of youth

All we want to see is reality TV
The Truth is what we are dying to be
But they crucify His move with each generation
And we have to build up the motivation

It happened once, but it won't happen twice
I pray this prayer as a soldier for Christ

Saturday, February 04, 2006

Brian "Head" Welch




Some months ago the biggest news in the music scene was that the guitarist of Korn left the band and gave his life to Jesus.
I just discovered his web page , and must tell you i was so happy, someone from the band that i grew up became a hard core follower of Christ and being born again just for a year he is so edgy in the way he follows Jesus. Man it's so great!!

You can read his story here

Friday, February 03, 2006

Hollow people ?!


We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw, Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralyzed force, gesture without motion;

—T.S. Eliot

These lines are haunting. Can you hear the voices of mankind whispering into the wind? Can you feel the sense of waste from knowing that our voices somehow do not make it past our own lips, rendering our words meaningless?
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