~Lost on Our Islands~

“From the day we’re born we are scarred and torn.We’ve been scared to sing out loud, but we don’t care no more’cause we know life is short. We don’t care who hears us now.Breathe it in and let it out.”

                ~Switchfoot (Jon Foreman) 






~Lost on Our Islands~

Lost and then saved.
Freedom comes with the wind, with the ocean, with my broken heart. 
Lost and then saved. 
Freedom comes from wood and nails, blood and vinegar, earthquakes of vengeance.
Lost and then saved.

I have these nails and I have two pieces of wood. 
I have these prayers sent up to the sky hoping for them to come down as rain. 
I have these nails and I have two pieces of wood. 
I have these prayers sent into the ground hoping for them to spring back up.

Blank pages on scrolls forged by fire.
What will be written about me?
Blank pages on scrolls forged by love.
What will it be written in?
Blank pages on scrolls forged by fire.
Are we using ink, or graphite, or should we be using blood as white as snow?
I have this hammer that came with my nails and wood.
I have this device to nail up my Savior.  
Over and over again I pound and hammer my words away. 
I nail up my savior instead of realizing the empty tomb.

I am lost but I can be found.
I am lost and sometimes need to see the hands.
The holes that represent life, and bring me back to repentance. 
I am lost but I can find my way back by his saving grace.

This world that we live in does not adhere to the teachings of God.
But he is in this world.
This world is lost, but we as vessels can help them become found. 
He is in the world.

One should understand he came to save those who are lost. 
We are lost on our islands and our eyes are covered by black smoke. 
There are monsters moving in to take us away from the truth.
But he is there and he shed his blood for me, and you.

Freedom comes in the wind, it comes with fire, it comes from the ocean. 
The waves crashing over our souls eroding the strife and the pain. 
The fire burning away our sins.
The air blowing away the smoke that clouds our eyes.

So what will my blank pages be filled with?
What will your blank pages be filled with?
I hope for words that say, “Well done, good and faithful servant!”
The Son of God and man paid the price, so he could write my scroll in blood.

Lost and then saved.
Freedom comes from the cross, the nails, the blood.
Lost and then saved.
Freedom comes from the sins being washed away. 
Lost and then saved.
Freedom comes when the poor are fed. 
When we do our part and take up his sacrifice. 
Be like the God that saved the world and covered the price for our salvation.
From being nailed up on my two beams, and then overcoming death.
We are lost, but we can be found.
By his blood, by his story.
The truth can set us free. 
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