Pens Dipped In The Ink Of My Own Blooda poem by Chris T.When the cruel pens have been dipped in the ink well of my ownbloodAndallthe false witnesses h..
My Delivererby Chris T.My deliverer is not a pre-packaged mealHe is not dead like cold hard steelThe efforts He makes are not in vainAnd His Son take..
A Champion Of The Sickby Chris T.When you feel led to abandon your lifePutting aside hopes, dreams and wantsAnd fellowship becomes the account of whic..
My Music Unto Theea poem by Chris T.Your music you have givenTo an undeserving handTo an unfruitful mindBut your gift of grace has written the notes o..
That Peaceful Smileby Chris T.Did I meet thechallengeat its placeHas the lesson fallen asunderWill I look it in its faceOr, will my effort be a blunde..
It is so easy to lose control. We are just so sinful by nature and we always run to find something that will fill us up inside; instead of the Father&..