Gotta keep believing,
Though so much contradicts.
People think that I’m a fool,
And devil plays his tricks.
People that I’m trusting
Seem to disappoint.
But maybe I mistakenly
Misplaced my frail hope?
Need a clearer vision
Of what God wants for me.
Don’t seem to know the answers
For questions bugging me.
The road keeps getting darker —
Here’s where true faith comes in.
I’m teet’ring on a tightrope,
Can’t seem to trust in Him.
How long to be in exile?
How long out in the cold?
Lord, help me to surrender,
To wait upon Your throne.
Have I lost Your vision,
Has pride put me in chains?
I’ll wait upon Your answer
And then be free again.
Am I disobeying?
Did I blindly fall?
I don’t have all the answers;
I’ll give it to You all.
clarakatalin 
Camp Freeway
One early morning this summer, I was driving past a freeway on-ramp, and I noticed a camping tent amongst the trees. If I hadn’t known that I was on a freeway, the area looked very much like a campground, with lovely pine trees, but of course without picnic benches, running water, showers, or toilets. But the place did look a lot like a typical California campground.
A few days later, there were two tents. Word was getting around.
But after a few weeks, no more tents. It would be interesting to know the stories of the people involved.
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