I have chosen to speak, to speak on the things that I have seen, to testify of the love of My father, I am not alone, my enemy would have me believe that there is nothing to this life, that I am one soul afloat upon a lone drifting island, If he could but take my mind he would. But in even the things that trouble me now. My mind is upon the Lord. I have not created the life and spirit that dwells within me I am naught but a willing host, I pay for my choice in this matter in tests and trials, but they don’t come to tear me down but they lift me up. My spiritual elevator, as I go through I draw ever closer to my eternal Father, I would become what he wishes me to be. If I could not make it he would not have chosen me, if I could not make it, his love would be meaning less. Since he is the creator, I was here for a purpose, I am here for a way, That is my testimony will set someone free, my life will shine upon the dark in someone else’s life and bring them out. I can not hardly describe the goodness of the Lord. I try so hard in a little bit of a way but I am working with what I have, now think not that I am making small this gift I have been given, If it accomplishes what the Lord meant for it to do. To him be the glory. I know that once upon a time, that the world held no joy, and life was but a sorry blur, in that I could only blame myself. For even as I write my heart leapt for joy, because even with that sorry state of affairs, He was there, Now I wouldn’t know that till his mercy and grace allowed me back into his fold, How close I was to death, how many times He could have abandoned me. Yet he held the door open, and when I came near, He drew me into his arms. He cried with me, as he emptied the pain within me and filled me with hope and joy. Now I at the table of blessing, and graduating to eat whole food, as my strength and experience has grown, I have expectation of work. Not for a man, but for souls, to place my efforts in the fields, to hold and protect the holy things of God, for his ways are not tarnished, and I am his, His light is golden, as I am in his eyes. Once his pleasant things of gold were substituted with brass, The sound of gold is not brass, I am not gold plated but made of gold, For his light must reflect from me, and his image must be shown. He is pure as I must be, So here I am to please him, to love him and live for him!