being broken has never been sweeter.

Sweetly Broken-- Jeremy Riddle

To the cross I look, to the cross I cling
Of it's suffering I do drink
Of it's work I do sing

For on it my Savior, both bruised and crushed
Showed that God is love
And God is just

Chorus:
At the cross You beckon me
You draw me gently to my knees, and I am
Lost for words, so lost in love,
I’m sweetly broken, wholly surrendered

What a priceless gift, undeserved life
Have I been given
Through Christ crucified

You’ve called me out of death
You’ve called me into life
And I was under Your wrath
Now through the cross I’m reconciled

In awe of the cross I must confess
How wondrous Your redeeming love and
How great is Your faithfulness

Comments

i love physics.

every morning an endless battle ensues within me. the gravitational force that's tugging at me back into bed and the equally strong urgency derived from a pile of never ending work that's making me move towards my breakfast drawer. usually the one that requires me to travel the shortest distance ends up victorious. the bed of cos, which goes without saying. unless the force on the other end is simply too great a draw- a growling stomach maybe, but almost all the time, it's about work that's loading as if each piece were under the influence of gravity and the only way it could go is down onto me. sometimes i wish both forces work in the same direction.

when words read a million times over but still never a bore.(unlike my exam notes that are boring me to tears)

"When you drop a glass or a plate to the ground it makes a loud crashing sound. When a window shatters, a table leg breaks, or when a picture falls off the wall it makes a noise. But as for your heart, when that breaks, it's completely silent. You would think it's so important that it would make the loudest noise in the whole world, or even have some sort of ceremonious sound like the gong of a cymbal or the ringing of a bell. But it's silent and you almost wish there was a noise to distract you from the pain." --Cecelia Ahern

Mr perfect/miss imperfect

Instead of waiting for the perfect one, work at being the perfect one instead. These words roll off the tongue with ease like a familiar jingle. Yet the former holds an appeal tt the latter can never achieve.could it be, that at the end of the day, we are, in fact, more aware of reality than we realise? The former, perhaps, more achievable than the latter?

life's mean reds.

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