3.27.2004

When my days seem like nights and I’m battered and worn

I wrestle with agony of having ever been born

I seem to have no purpose, I seem to have no plan

I seem to have no hope, no foundation on which to stand


God why have You called Me to accomplish Your Will?

Why is Your patience a part of me still?

I don’t see a Potter Who has molded this clay

I only see someone who can’t find her way


Nice poem....
*sigh*

^jac
16:24

-^jac - choir - pink - green - prissy - piglet - one voice - lollies - shopping queen - mars - freedom -


Crap your way through!





` Things to Do!

*Sleeeep
*Wits(oh man...)
*Get pudgie a bigger home!
*Give Dora her long-awaited treat
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