Again

Jesus forgive me what I’ve done. Again I was silent, when I was supposed to talk.
When I’m not talking, who will?

Again I missed a chance to lift your name up high.
Who knows wether the two guys will meet Jesus-disciples again?

One hour we talked about school and music.
We didn't mention your name one time.
Did they recognise that we are christians?

They showed us to who they belong.
On which side they are on.
Father, I ask myself, why did I hide my love to you?

Jesus, it’s true that I love you,
And still I allow satan to make me fear.
God, why do I have so little trust in you?

God forgive me! I’m so sorry that I was silent.
God forgive me! I’m so sorry that I didn’t confess you.
God forgive me!

*Stephanie Zeltz*

Like a little child

I run over a flowermeadow (with unsafe stepps)
-like a little child.
I play with the butterflies and I’m happy,
Because a sunbeam tickles my nose and my face shines in the sun.

When there are times I am sad
I run to my Daddy- like a little child.
Always when I’m screwing up or falling to the ground,
My Daddy comes to take me in his arms.

When I lose the right wayI scream to my Daddy
-like a little child.
Filled with faith that he’s listening to my cry coming to save me and wipe away my tears.

When I’m alone in the darkness
and I fear of dark shadows,
I take hold of my Daddies strong hand-
like a little child-and all my fear falls away from me.

If I am in dought of who I am,
or wether Daddy is there and wether he really loves me,
I just look in his loving, friendly face-
like a little child- and I know: I’m so loved.

Daddy, I jump in your arms like a little child,
It is so cosy and warm there. I feel so secure with you. I’d like to be in your arms my whole life.

*Stephanie Zeltz*

I walk through the streets of Amsterdam

I walk through the streets of Amsterdam,
I see fashion, style, rich people and freaks.
Shops, so many that I can’t count them.
Consumption, so much that you start choking because of it.

I walk through the streets of Amsterdam,
thousands of different cultures and people.
The expression in their faces is (always) the same.
Faces are filled with grieve and sorrow.

I walk through the streets of Amsterdam,
dirt, as wide as my eyes can see.
Women behind shop windows sell her bodies,
in Coffee Shops Yankees give themselves a shot .

I walk through the streets of Amsterdam,
everywhere hopeless people around me.
I see parties, sex, drugs and alcohol,
But where can true life be found there?

I walk through the streets of Amsterdam,
tears cover my face. To see how people
destroy themselves, looking for the wrong
sense in life. It brakes my heart.

Oh God! Listen to my cry for the people of Amsterdam. Interfere this madness. The people need your salvation,
Touch them with your unconditional love.

*Stephanie Zeltz*