Here is a psalm for the mothers of teenage daughters who are rebelling against God and looking for acceptance in this world. God gave this to me at a time when I was very discouraged and felt like I had no hope. May our sons and daughters be changed, from Glory to Glory! 

 Little Butterfly

 Scared and Alone,

 The storm is raging,

 And beating your wings.

Why do you try,

To put on the cloak of darkness

Given to you by the moths?

Don’t hide your colours,

Of Purple and Blue,

The brightness and beauty,

Given to you.

Don’t let your riches be weighed down with mud.

They say, “Come with us,

We’ll show you what Fun is!”,

Luring you to the place,

Where purpose can’t fly.

No, look up and see the great hand called Protection,

Placed on your life by the power of prayer,

And the awesome battalion,

Which Love has assigned to your care.

What is that Voice you hear calling your name?

Saying, “I see you, even here!

Little Butterfly,

Come out and be separate,

And here is the Way,

Pass through the Blood ,

To be clean again.

Then fly to the bank of the River,

By the still waters,

And drink deeply there.

Let the glory light warm your head,

See clearly with heavens’ true eyes.

You will shine forth in true colour!”

Thankyou for Your glorious love,

Which purposes a relationship with me,

Though I am stained,

Your blood washes me pure,

I am separated unto You,

And I open the door willingly,

And say, “Come in” with joy unspeakable and full of glory.

Amazing love,

That died for me,

Your beaten body,

Bought my healing.

Your pure blood,

Broke evils’ grip,

And delivered me from Hells’ Gates.

No death succeeds now,

Only life eternally abounding.

Bleeding Deliverer King.

I thank you with my lips,

Born again to praise You.

Soon the trumpet will sound,

And you will steal me,

Away into glory,

I will sit at the table,

The Bride and the Bridegroom,

And dine with You Jesus,

Knowing Your truth,

And together we will sit on Your Throne

Amen.

My garments must be white,

Washed with Blood.

My garments must be white,

No stain or wrinkle,

I am made clean by crimson flow,

Thereby my shame is taken away.

Fine linen,  fine linen,

The holy works of the Lord.

God- inhabited tasks,

Executed in His power,

With grace and favour applied.

Ornaments of wisdom,

Around my neck,

Showing His love to the nations.

I am a witness of His infinite care,

The ways He loves me are unsearchable,

And He loves me without end.

Therefore I shall wear,

My fine linen,

The holy works of Heaven.

I give light and hope to those in blackness,

Bringing breakthrough to the captive dead,

Amazing good news revealing their arrogance,

They reach out for righteousnes,

Cast off the grave clothes,

They invite Salvation into their house.

All is now new and  peace,

All is now new and  peace.

Let the Lord be magnified,

And His enemies be scattered.

She thought that her beauty,

Could win His true favour,

She thought that her riches,

Could buy purest life,

She thought that her hard work,

Could purchase an invite,

To wonderful blessings and eternal life.

There at the gate,

A herald stared blankly,

And said to the woman,

“You’ve made a mistake!,

Not beauty, nor riches,

Not hard work or failure,

Is ever enough to purchase a Bride.”

Reeling, she stumbled,

Confused and redundant,

Sick to her stomach,

She’d strived all her life!

The herald proclaimed a marvelous new feature,

“The price of the future’s already been paid!

Pure blood is the payment,

And though no one is righteous,

One went forth from Brilliance,

A through love life gave.”

Seeing her error,

She cried for His pardon,

She laid down dark actions,

And picked up His grace.

The scars on His back,

Were deep and revealing,

The scourging was thirty-nine,

The mocking was cold.

They cast lots for threads,

Of the worthy Rejected,

And we spat in His face,

With our sin spattered frowns.

He, on the wood,

Fought through their freedom,

And through His true piercing,

Though they were so spotted,

He made true their mercy,

In the place where Love bled.

Therefore His Father,

When seeing Him slighted,

Was pleased that He suffered,

And was assigned with the dead,

Then called Him to glory,

Gave a gold sceptre,

Said, “Come here be seated.

Pure blood has been shed.”

Holiness satisfied with love-induced payment,

Then gave Him a Name,

At which all fallen dread!

(I am amazed when I think of the love that Jesus displayed for us through His death on the cross.)

Dazzling in beauty,

Love robed in victory,

Joyful in glory.

He was betrothed to a blood covered Bride,

He sits on His throne ’till she comes through the gate.

One day she made an amazing discovery,

The One she had shunned,

Was her true escape.

She looked at her feet and found they were shackled,

She looked at her hands and saw they were bound.

She looked at her robes and found they were darkness,

And all of her riches were muddied and weak.

Her enemy awaited , in a pretense of fairness,

He bribed her with honey, bitter to taste.

Wooing her sweetly towards the wrong gate.

She happened upon a clear pool of water,

And saw her appearance, realised her mistake,

She called on Love’s Passion,

He came to her rescue,

She was embarrassed by her crimson state.

He climbed down from brilliance,

And set free her future,

And though it was painful,

The blood of His mercy,

Made sins dark crimson,

As righteous as snow.

Now she stands covered in Loves’ tender mercies,

Trinkets and tokens,

Held in open hands.

She stands on the earth ground,

Offering the incense,

Pouring the oil and the perfume around.

People around her don’t see her for darkness,

But blind eyes are opened when good news is found.

Invites are made to the upcoming wedding,

True Love returns during signs of the times.

Heralds attendant as destiny opens,

Inheritance given, Gods’ kingdom reigns!

Behold the Groom,

Gaze on His beauty,

His treasures made yours.

No earned possession,

Heaven’s bestowal,

Endowed with inheritance,

The sceptre victorious,

He invests in the broken,

His cup filled with hearts.

None can compare to His stunning attaining,

Truly matchless if His array.

His armies stood silent, violence crucified Love,

Disarmed enemies killed the Ascended,

Blood washes blackness ad darks deepest shame.

The Bride is so spotless,

Love is victorious,

Majesty reigns.

Poor become rich in His marvellous graces,

Visions bestowal, the finest design.

Blind receive sight through clearness of water,

Beautiful colours, gift wrapped with truth,

Those who are lame dance right into glory,

The steps of the righteous march in His Name.

Deaf hear the melodies of heavens’ bright standards,

The sounds of salvation, angels refrain.

The Bride is so spotless,

Love is victorious,

Majesty reigns.