Restless -

the idea of
a new morning
doesn’t comfort me at all,
not anymore.
killing myself with
thoughts of helplessness.


No one left to talk to,
no one left to confide to.
My sentiments are mine to keep,
the wounds in my heart are just too deep.

-Philipp James A. Manila

are ones
whose façade
is uprightness,
who loves to display
assumed meliority
by lampooning, belittling,
those who can’t measure up by far.
They, these smugs, failed to descry they are
more damnable than those they cursed and scarred.

- Philipp James A. Manila



Day and night, this same thing I felt
For all the bitter things I have dealt,
A feeling that destroyed my heart
A curse which tore my life apart.

All this brokenness I kept
Haunted me everytime I slept
This load of anguish I bore
Has been rooted deeply into my core.

And it smothers me excruciatingly
Pains me with each memory
Of countless times I have been riled -
Not getting what I desired.


- Philipp James A. Manila

Let Go. Be Free.


God wants to make us free from any kind of bondage be it bitterness or deeply rooted sins. He is able to do great things through our brokenness if we just let him work on our life; but it is more often that we do things our way – assuming we can fix things without God. 


Broken Dreams

Robert J. Burdette

As children bring their broken toys
With tears for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God
Because He was my friend.

But then instead of leaving Him
In peace to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help
With ways that were my own.

At last I snatched them back and cried,
“How could you be so slow”
“My child,” He said, “What could I do?
You never did let go.”


Let Go

Billy Graham

A little child was playing one day with a very valuable vase. He put his hand into it and could not withdraw it. His father too, tried his best, but all in vain. They were thinking of breaking the vase when the father said, “Now, my son, make one more try. Open your hand and hold your fingers out straight as you see me doing, and then pull.”

To their astonishment the little fellow said, “O no, father. I couldn’t put my fingers out like that, because if I did I would drop my penny.”

Smile, if you will–but thousands of us are like that little boy, so busy holding on to the world’s worthless penny that we cannot accept liberation. I beg you to drop the trifle in your heart. Surrender! Let go, and let God have His way in your life.


I will leave you with these two questions:

What are your reasons for not letting God calm the storms of your life? Do you think those reasons are worth for the pain you are in right now?

Something Left To Love

When we are preoccupied by anger, we tend to be critical, judgmental and sometimes irrational. We sometimes forget the good side of a person. Below is a passage from A Raisin in the Sun, a play written by Lorraine Hansberry.


BENEATHA: Be on my sidefor once! You saw what he just did, Mama! You saw him – down on his knees. Wasn’t it you who taught me to despise any man who would do that? Do what he’s going to do?

MAMA: Yes – I taught you that. Me and your daddy. But I thought I taught you something else too… I thought I taught you to love him.

BENEATHA: Love him? There is nothing left to love.

MAMMA: There is always something left to love. And if you ain’t learned that, you ain’t learned nothing. (Looking at her) Have you cried for that boy today? I don’t mean for yourself and for the family ’cause we lost the money. I mean for him: what he been through and what it done to him. Child, when do you think is the time to love somebody the most? When they done good and made things easy for everybody? Well then, you ain’t through learning – because that ain’t the time at all. It’s when he’s at his lowest and can’t believe in hisself ’cause the world done whipped him so! When you starts measuring somebody, measure him right, child, measure him right. Make sure you done taken into account what hills and valleys he come through before he got to wherever he is.


Joseph Bayly

Written after he laid three of his sons in the grave.

I was sitting, torn by grief. Someone came and talked to me of God’s dealings, of why it happened, of hope beyond the grave. He talked constantly; he said things I knew were true. I was unmoved except to wish he’d go away. He finally did.

Another came and sat beside me. He just sat beside me for an hour and more, listened when I said something, answered briefly, prayed simply, left. I was moved. I was comforted. I hated to see him go