Bouquet
I have searced for an Evergreen Flower that cannot cast a shadow; a Wind that never shouts but speaks in a strong, clear whisper; a Sonrise that never sets, the Beginning that has no end. I have searched for that which could never be and yet - is. I have found the Treasure of Impossible Realities. Ask and it shall be given. Seek and you will find. Knock and the door shall be opened to the world above this eartly horizon line. Then fill your cup with a bouquet and a breeze. Make a rainbow with Living Light and Eternal Love. And Jesus will come and dine with thee and place His centerpiece of Evergreen Flowers upon thy table.

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Philippians 4:8

They grow at random like flowers, whatsoever things that are True and Honest, surviving inbetween the houses like the tenacious lily, whatsoever things that are Just, Pure and Lovely. Rare things waiting to be discovered like infant trees growing in some isolated spot, whatsoever things that are of Good Report. They persist on growing up right through our thoughts, inbetween the earthly intrusions, like wildflowers thriving in a pavement's crack of a city street rising above the concrete. So when you find them, pick them, for they will last forever if they are cherished. And if there be any Virtue, and if there be any Praise, think on these things before the cold, worldly rain washes all their precious seeds away.

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Praise Garden
With every thought conformed to You, we begin, slowly at first until the morning comes and we see Your laughter painting the sky. We raise our hands to applaud Your gift, then we caress Your face in the air. Seeing You from within, You revive us with a smile, cleanse us with a tear. Soon the music begins, the sound of wind through the trees, Your breath on the leaves, and a chorus of winged joy weaves through Your fingers before the sun. Then You applaud - a thunder sound, and a Still Small Voice whispers, "Sing." Voices rise like perfume scenting the gates of Your hevenlies, beckoning You to come and find the source of such fragrant noise. Then You open our gate and enter in. Every petal receives a welcome touch from Your spring, and summer forever stays inhabiting our garden of praise.


Worship

If I sing when they sing, or if I pray when they pray and leave my offering at the altar, when I leave when they leave,
Is the worship over?
My heart has become Your temple, Thou knowest;
And You have made Your home in me.
How can I sing the words
to this song You have given me to another?
Take this life and make it a praise every hour, every day;
For I cannot leave my worship at the altar and then just walk away.

I will bless the Lord at all times, His praise shall continually be in my mouth. - Psalm 43:1

Love's Touch
I will praise my God. I will sing and rejoice in the early morning hours. I will stand refreshed like the flowers that rest beneath the dew, soft and glistening with Love's Touch.
   I am like the newly born just beginning another day to grow, waiting for the soft, white robe of maturity in my Lord. I cannot be touched with evil as long as His touch is upon me. I shall not be lost as long as I seek my King, for He has found me.
   I am revived, I am renewed, I am cleansed by joy. I am alive, I have risen with my Savior in victory. I have overcome, for He has overcome me. I can be all He is by Love's Touch.

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Copyright 1985 by H.D. Shively