Between The Branches

On Terry street there was a fig tree that grew over our porch. I used to always sit there when I needed to be alone. This picture reminds me alot of those times up between the branches

Between The Branches

There’s always something more between

The branches of an elder tree

A place to rest a weary soul

When things begin to take their tole

A lovely place to catch a breath

To be alone at quiet rest

Forgotten sounds that reach me here

The gentle thrum of nature’s gears

Come breezy wind to kiss my face

Enter softly into this place

Then bursting with fantastic light

The flashing hue of orange bright

I see it is the rising sun

A warmth it breathes into my lungs

Reminding me of who I am

A daughter placed in mighty hands

Perched beyond those doubtful fears

The ones that whisper in my ears

They cannot reach me when I climb

Between the branches intertwined

Such perfect peace I’ve finally found

In my garden above the ground

Emily's Song

This is a poem I know isn't nearly finished yet. It is still in it's baby form but I wanted to post it anyway. It's about a girl I never knew but who's story has left an impression on me. Her name was Emily Heiber and she died of brain cancer when she was only a teen. My whole church has heard her story but I never really knew Emily myself so I didn' t really know what to think of her death. Then I read a story that another Emily (Emily Hart) wrote, about how Emily Heiber had changed her life forever. I was so touched I started to sob and couldn't control my sorrow. This was a fantastic woman of God who had such a beautiful heart. When she left this earth people still told her amazing story because Emily didn't just die she left a legacy of love. This is Emily's Song.

Emily's Song

Could I ever find words to describe?

A heart of gold and eyes that glinted like a starry sky

Such passion that moves like fire breathes

Touching each person and living thing

With the sounds of her laughter

And arms that wrapped you in flooding warmth

She could lift the world

From your aching , shaking shoulders

She knew how to truly live

For she was in love

And was willing to give

Her life to a better cause

A heart that was open

A spirit without walls

How could we live without her?

A smile that shone like the sun

That girl with the bright and beautiful song

Who danced and flew among us all

A refreshing breeze of life

She blew us away

She taught us to fly

Could I ever find words to describe?

The depths of love

Like a swirling sea

That shone from within Emily

Though tired and worn towards the end

She had strength to smile

A gorgeous grin

She flew from our loving hands

To live with a gracious King

But she left her touch with us

The Song of Emily

The Fray

We are on the edge of something big. This is a special time of the releasing of the supernatural, of the powerful. And words are one of the largest weapons we have in our arsenal. This is a poem about being in that place between hearing a thought and actually speaking it out loud and remembering that those words you're about to speak are going to be more powerful and influential to the destiny of the earth than you might ever realize.

The Fray

 

This is the time

The moment

Where the words that fall

From this parted mouth

Can launch a thousand ships

 

This is the place

The cavern

Where destiny will sit

And wait it’s quiet turn

Until It’s released from my lips

 

This is the world

The future

That rests upon my tongue

Will I choose to sing it forward

Or will I pull the smoking gun

 

This is the song

The anthem

That defines a generation

Of God crazed holy seekers

On whose shoulders rest the nations

This is the hour

The calling

For the lions to finally roar

To rise upon the hillside

And prepare themselves for war

 

We have the word

The answer

For a sick and starving world

Will we stand with God to heal it

Or let the pulsing dark uncurl

This is the time

The moment

Where the words that fall from our parted mouths

Can raise a Holy Kingdom

Or one that’s thriving underground

 

Silence

This is a poem that I am not sure is quite finished yet. It is about how noise can actually distract us from having an encounter with the Lord. Even something as beautiful as music can be drowning the voice of God. Or, and I am guilty of this, praying aloud without asking God what is on His heart for me to pray for. It's a poem of conviction and asking forgiveness from the Lord for using all sorts of things, even good and honorable things, in a manner which distracts us from hearing His voice. Because yes music and prayer are wonderful for strengthening your relationship with God but what about just sitting back, closing your mouth and listening to what God has to say.

Title: Silence

I met silence once

While I was walking through an empty wood

He asked “Why are you ‘fraid of me?”

I told him the music inspired my passion

He told me to turn it off and listen

I told him that t.v. helps pass the time

He told me it was my greatest shrine

I told him that talking helped me to pray

He told me to let the Lord have a say

I told him my day was just too insane

He told me my time was mine to maintain

I told him that silence leaves me to my thoughts

He asked me. “ Is that what you are afraid of?”

I met silence once

While I was walking through an empty wood

He sat me down and said,

“It’s the voice of the Lord you dread.”

These words were sharp and piercing

But with a new and great releasing

I worshipped the Lord with silence

And my heart was loud and shaking

Pained and simply breaking

As I felt the Lord in silence

I closed my watery eyes

And breathed a heavy sigh

To listen to the Lord in silence

 

Yesterday

This is a poem that helps describe the feelings I had after a particularly lazy and unproductive day. I just woke up, didn't spend any time with the Lord and did absolutely nothing. I must have watched like three movies and a bunch of t.v. and then maybe read a Calvin and Hobbes book but at the end of the day I felt physically sick. I sat on my floor and was like "What happened?" My head was pounding and my stomach lurching from all the emptiness that was pounded into my head that entire day. It was literally a waste. A whole day! Wasted, tossed aside like I didn't even care about my life at all or what I did with it either. I felt awful, guilty and was honestly ashamed. Here is that day. 

Title: Yesterday

I woke with a fleeting passion

A vision of gray

To line the rest of the day

If only I could sleep much longer

I walked with a listless vigor

To give a single care

Would be just too much to bear

If only I sit much longer

I watched with an empty vision

As the day passed away

And I fell through the fray

If only I could fall much faster

Then I looked with a painful glance

At this great breathing waste

A day of disgrace

If only I had simply listened

The stairs that sat without a step

No creak to be found

No great leaping bounds

If only I had joy and wonder

The doors that hung without a hope

Unopened and ignored

Unused and unimplored

If only God had been my master

The heart that ached for something more

I trapped it inside

A great living lie

If only I had courage to release it

Oh what could have been that sits in silence

A great destiny?

I beg and I plead

For forgiveness for my yesterday

At least I have now tomorrow

To grab and to hold

To shape and to mold

To live as a life worth living

The Hands Of God

This is a poem about God's great love and desire for the people of this world. Despite how we reject His advances and pull away from His love He never ceases to try and bring us back to where we belong, with Him. I think what we fail to see God as alot of the time is as a Father who is seeking us with His whole being and who actually cries when we say no and who's heart breaks. Did you ever think that you could actually break God's heart? That's exactly how much he loves us. Enough to put His heart out there, His son out there, for us to take or instead to turn from. Wow, does that not blow your mind, it's blowing mine! Anyways this is a poem about that same God who is relentless in his pursuit of us. 

Title. The Hands Of God

I sought to make a world where we could stay

Walk the ground and greet each coming day

Live within the bright and shining way

My hands will never cease to bring you home

I see the darkness everyday you face

A broken home, a dying song, starvation of the human race

And everyday my heart begins to break

My hands will never cease to bring you home

The songs I sing to try and help you see

The hope the joy the love that's within me

I open up my arms for you my sweet

My hands will never cease to bring you home

But then I hear a sound that tears me up

The closing of a door that's keeping shut

And I cry the greatest tears for all my loves

My hands will never cease to bring you home

They're keeping all their windows locked and barred

Silenced me with poison in their hearts

I sent my son and he returned with scars

My hands will never cease to bring you home

And when you find the ground on bended knee

You'll look up to a starry sky and see

My love for you still burns like fire breathes

My hands have never ceased to bring you home

- Jaelle Hamann

In Our Worship

This is a poem describing the true nature of a powerful worship session. There is so much going on in the spirit realm that we can't perceive but I believe that God is slowly breaking down these barriers and revealing more to us as heaven invades earth and we are consistently pursuing Him.

 Title: In Our Worship

Heart open

Arms arched 

Without sound

We fall silent for the storm

The revival being born

The broken

The Lost

Fallen down

They come desperate to transform

Chains undone, now be restored

The shadows

Alone

Losing ground

They are lost to what they see

Holy armies with their wings

Taken

By soldiers

In crowns

We release the holy roar

For the king that we adore

Hearts deepened

Arms arched 

He surrounds

We fight blazing in the storm

A revival has been born

We worship

Fall down

Bending knees

It is more than we perceive

The earth is being seized

- Jaelle Hamann