Peeling the orange's Blog

smart girl needs to write good stuff!

Archive for the ‘My Boss’ Category

The Scandal of Love…

with 5 comments

Walking down the street
Remembering your tender words
Clinging to the light of yours,
Sinking in your eyes forever
Melting in the sweet journey

I am whispered of thy beauty once more
Once more as I seat on the bench I listen
Reading your story grasping as I dream of
Is there such a love?
Is there such a beauty?

…And He reaches them all who failed
And He embraces the collectors of belongings
And He touch the untouchable, with love
And He gave light to those in darkness

…And He spoke of perfection as it is
And He taught on Majesty
And He opened a way closed before
And He was just the Master of Love within

…As He walk my eyes were astonish
My heart turns violently inside
My steps want to run toward freedom
My hands want to be encircle by His Mercy

Yes, I’m no perfect
Either I pursue complacency
Since I know how scandalous His kind of Love is
All I want is to walk with Him my journey

Not, I’m not pure
Either I pursue sympathy
Because I had learn the Beauty that sink my eyes in Him
And He never ends, He is forever indeed

I need this scandalous love
The love around
The love within
The love that has being birth
…since I behold His Beauty
NO other than the Lord, No other than Him alone.

caption by The Lens Flare.

Advertisements

A breath of Hope.

with one comment

Everything we believe draw toward us the thoughts about it. The wrong thoughts cause wrong behavior (attitude, expectations, theology, awareness).

If today you perceive anything less than joy, if you are really bored, like if God is on vacations, then…explore your beliefs. God is very alive and happy, is strong, joyful, is nothing wrong with Him, is tender, merciful, great FATHER, giver of great gifts, just, sweet, funny, and powerful, friend, is with you, and the best of all: He does love you.

What if all is about thinking RIGHT about God, to start with? Our heart isn’t wrong all the time if we believe the truth about God, and that start with Jesuschirst. He is both Saviour and Lord!

Explore your heart. You would discover Spirit and Truth there. Be complete!!!

The Cross without Religion.

with 5 comments

Without The Cross there isn’t Church. Without The Church there isn’t Love. Yes, Love is self existent, yes, self sufficient in nature, but how you see it without a recipient to give it away? And we all need Love to keep running this wonderful race called Life, ones need a little more than others, and most of us need to learn how to grow in it, how to express it. How to become it. The reflection of Love…WE are. We Humans are the ones.

Written by peelingtheorange

January 18, 2011 at 11:07 pm

Posted in My Boss

Tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Forsaking the Nets!!!

with 6 comments

Walking down the street I remember my dreams
The ones that you sown in my heart from the beginning
Then I stop and realize that I must run those pearls
Then I realize I must run the other way

I came back to my place and make my bags ready
I packed just enough to run after my desires
They’re not just mine but from the King’s heart
All I guard to give glory to whom makes me alive

I left all behind with all those glories that began to fade
Time is now to search for that Joy I saw there
To walk into whom I am in my extravagant days
Those that you’ve promised from the redemption day

I pack the clothes, books, and no memories
I look into the future with every glimpse of gladness
I just look at your countenance every time I walk
Now almost ready to unfold your awesome wonders

I see a future where I can shout your name for all you did
I see a future full of stories to tell from my path at your side
I see a future like never before I dreamed
I see even better when thinking from your heart

Tell me more
Tell me more
Tell me more
Tell me more…My God

Rushing like the wind full of hopes that you spoke about
And you can even go beyond my wildest dwellings
My thoughts can not stand alone but with my peace and passion
Full of adventures is my eyesight waiting for

My God, My God, I know you have it all!!

Written by peelingtheorange

October 9, 2010 at 2:21 am

Posted in My Boss

Tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Breathing Nature for Hope…

with 2 comments

To go into solitude, a man needs to retire as much from his chamber as from society. I am not solitary whilst I read and write, though nobody is with me. But if a man would be alone, let him look at the stars. The rays that come from those heavenly worlds, will separate between him and what he touches. One might think the atmosphere was made transparent with this design, to give man, in the heavenly bodies, the perpetual presence of the sublime. Seen in the streets of cities, how great they are! If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.

The stars awaken a certain reverence, because though always present, they are inaccessible; but all natural objects make a kindred impression, when the mind is open to their influence. Nature never wears a mean appearance. Neither does the wisest man extort her secret, and lose his curiosity by finding out all her perfection. Nature never became a toy to a wise spirit. The flowers, the animals, the mountains, reflected the wisdom of his best hour, as much as they had delighted the simplicity of his childhood. When we speak of nature in this manner, we have a distinct but most poetical sense in the mind. We mean the integrity of impression made by manifold natural objects. It is this which distinguishes the stick of timber of the wood-cutter, from the tree of the poet. The charming landscape which I saw this morning, is indubitably made up of some twenty or thirty farms. Miller owns this field, Locke that, and Manning the woodland beyond. But none of them owns the landscape. There is a property in the horizon which no man has but he whose eye can integrate all the parts, that is, the poet. This is the best part of these men’s farms, yet to this their warranty-deeds give no title. To speak truly, few adult persons can see nature. Most persons do not see the sun. At least they have a very superficial seeing. The sun illuminates only the eye of the man, but shines into the eye and the heart of the child. The lover of nature is he whose inward and outward senses are still truly adjusted to each other; who has retained the spirit of infancy even into the era of manhood. His intercourse with heaven and earth, becomes part of his daily food. In the presence of nature, a wild delight runs through the man, in spite of real sorrows. Nature says, — he is my creature, and maugre all his impertinent griefs, he shall be glad with me. Not the sun or the summer alone, but every hour and season yields its tribute of delight; for every hour and change corresponds to and authorizes a different state of the mind, from breathless noon to grimmest midnight. Nature is a setting that fits equally well a comic or a mourning piece. In good health, the air is a cordial of incredible virtue. Crossing a bare common, in snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded sky, without having in my thoughts any occurrence of special good fortune, I have enjoyed a perfect exhilaration. I am glad to the brink of fear. In the woods too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period soever of life, is always a child. In the woods, is perpetual youth. Within these plantations of God, a decorum and sanctity reign, a perennial festival is dressed, and the guest sees not how he should tire of them in a thousand years. In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I feel that nothing can befall me in life, — no disgrace, no calamity, (leaving me my eyes,) which nature cannot repair. Standing on the bare ground, — my head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite space, — all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eye-ball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God. The name of the nearest friend sounds then foreign and accidental: to be brothers, to be acquaintances, — master or servant, is then a trifle and a disturbance. I am the lover of uncontained and immortal beauty. In the wilderness, I find something more dear and connate than in streets or villages. In the tranquil landscape, and especially in the distant line of the horizon, man beholds somewhat as beautiful as his own nature.

The greatest delight which the fields and woods minister, is the suggestion of an occult relation between man and the vegetable. I am not alone and unacknowledged. They nod to me, and I to them. The waving of the boughs in the storm, is new to me and old. It takes me by surprise, and yet is not unknown. Its effect is like that of a higher thought or a better emotion coming over me, when I deemed I was thinking justly or doing right.

Yet it is certain that the power to produce this delight, does not reside in nature, but in man, or in a harmony of both. It is necessary to use these pleasures with great temperance. For, nature is not always tricked in holiday attire, but the same scene which yesterday breathed perfume and glittered as for the frolic of the nymphs, is overspread with melancholy today. Nature always wears the colors of the spirit. To a man laboring under calamity, the heat of his own fire hath sadness in it. Then, there is a kind of contempt of the landscape felt by him who has just lost by death a dear friend. The sky is less grand as it shuts down over less worth in the population.

Emerson Central.

Writing to God…

leave a comment »

To The King Of Kings

Hounting day by day never resting
Molding jars of clay with every breath
Filling all our hopes with His greatness
Firmly determine to reach all souls

Searching ways to give us holy bread
Unsearchable grace holding a commitment
Eyes of fire that melt my fears away forever
My King of Kings is master at Love us even more

Every day I stand before His presence
Nothing to offer just a servant heart to give
Beautiful Christ who gives freedom at the Cross
For You the Glory, Power and the Kingdom be

No words can express the Joy I’m holding
And every bit is living to give You Praise
I’m wondering for more power to discover
My precious King of Kings, He is all I need.

—————————————–
The Bridegroom’s Voice

Standing at your feet waiting,
expecting for you to reveal your heart to me,
getting a sense of heaven as my heart beats,
searching to know your absolute desires patiently,
as my breathing goes with this new fragrance,
and my skin is no more dwelling in my grief,
Praise my King! Every bit of my thankful soul,
make yours every glory,
make only come to pass your will.

When kiss your beauty with every single tear,
my heart eyes start to dwell eternity,
my hands also reach the perfect Lamb clothed in love,
His greatness enlighten the room as present your voice in a glimpse,
make your sweetness be touched by every human being,
make every soul joyful when searching the tenderness of His breeze,
my only moment where the life make truly worth,
Precious Emmanuel goes hounding for our freedom without resting,
Worthy King, my Bridegroom… in You Everlasting is my peace.
——————————————-

Embracing My Master Faithfulness

The sword had pierced my cold and rocky soul
Thousand nights in the battle for this courage
I went to His feet crying out for truly strength
A cost which dividends are worth for the King’s glory

These terms are not cheap nor are they from my own
An alabaster jar been cleaned and unfolded day by day
The taste of these waters is what releases us from strong hands
Thanks to the King which been slain rose up from wearing my sins

A revealing truth invites my heart to the life parade
And His faithfulness embraced this gift of hidden manna
I died to my own ways and wait like a tree plant by a river
Learning the King’s obedience and surrendering to his breath

A warm afternoon all around my hopes and a sweet fragrance
Are these the powers of the King’s presence moving in the waters?
I fear no more with His eyes of fire fighting in this spilled heart
He gave the music to my blood and on His house I dwell, forevermore.

Tireless runner need it today!

leave a comment »

what’s life in a glimpse

of these surrender of my

words?

what’s there for me

if all I just perform

was lost

what’s life out there

on colors to discolor my

sorrow

if all I just pursue

was love

and love is inconvenient

but is all that matter

when all my ways

surrender to its beauty

what’s life for me?

Life is all

Life is to give

Life is to pursue more

Life is to smile at me

Life is to have fun

Life is also to cry

Life is also to awake

Life to be worth

must be run.

What’s life for me?

is to Love

is to find grace

is to win the race.

%d bloggers like this: