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Every Morning

Every morning
We meet at this place
You seeking my heart
Me seeking Your face.

Every morning
We embrace
You filling my heart with love
Me overwhelmed by Your grace.

Every morning
I depart from our place
Filled to overflowing
Ready to share Your love, mercy, and grace.

Every morning.

Morning by Artist CiMo

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23

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A Black History Verse to Ponder

February is the month we set aside to pay tribute to African Americans who have influenced our culture. This past Sunday at church, our musician played Lift Every Voice and Sing written by James Weldon Johnson.

I grew up listening to that song as the Negro National Anthem. It was played at the end of the daily broadcast of the only Black radio station when it went off the air at sundown. Sunday while the church rose and sang, I listened and read the verses. I had always only heard the first verse and was pleasantly surprised by the last verse.

God of our weary years
God of our silent tears
Thou who hast brought us thus far on the way
Thou who hast by Thy might, led us into the light

Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the place, our God, where we met.
Lest our hearts, drunk with he wine of the world, we forget Thee.

Shadowed beneath Thy hand, may we forever stand.
True to our God, true to our native land.

May we never forget who has brought us and taught us how to overcome. May we never forget who is able to keep us from stumbling. May we never forget who is the source of our light.


Psalm 97:9 Lord, You are the Most High God. You rule over the whole earth. You are honored much more than all gods. (NIRV)

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Guest Poet: Taylon

Today’s poet is a young man who touches my heart every day–my son Taylon Mosley. The following is his tribute to Black History.

Black Celebration

By definition it is ugly,
The opposite of white,
Not beautiful to be precise.
But I find it lovely.

It reminds me of the dark starry nights
The color brings me joy, so for me it will suffice.
Black is the color of my ancestors,
The ones who came before me,
That paved the way for today.

Just being born I became a protector
Of this black heritage you see
So those of tomorrow can celebrate what we accomplished yesterday.

Throughout this month we remember the greats.
From the Rosa Parks to the Malcom Xs all the way to the MLKs.
Remember the ones who fought oppression.
We as a people tore down the gates,
That segregated us, so that one of these days,
We could all live in a community built upon equality & integration.

Black is beauty and more than just a race.
Black is a statement and not just a color.
Black is strong and not just a phase.



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African American Poets: Phillis Wheatley

Phillis Wheatley is an early American poet who wrote poems about the people in her life and her faith. She was raised as a slave in New England and was taught to read and write by her owners’ daughter. She eventually traveled to England where her works “Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral” were published.


For more about Wheatley visit: