"Humble"---A new testimony song from Steve Cline

We have had the good fortune to have posted music and some quotes from Steve Cline on this blog previously. Steve is a pretty deep thinker. He lives in West Virginia and has a powerful story to tell us, and I think that we should hear what he's saying and sit with that for awhile and take what works for us with us. If you read this blog regularly you know that some of our constant themes are recovery, religion and spirituality, and the creativity and beauty that is around us and within us. We hit all of these themes in Steve's music and in much of what he has to say. Do I always agree with Steve? No. But his testimony and his music get and hold my attention, and I know that there are many people out there who will benefit greatly from hearing Steve and knowing that there is someone out there who knows their road and can put it into music and share much-needed hope.

The words are as follows:

I was raised to be a prideful sinner

always to stand up for myself

was how to be a winner

but then I found out that road is just full of glimmer

it'll take u to hell a whole lot quicker 

we all need to forgive and be humble

give the shirt off of our back and love our brother

we need to deny our flesh and stay sober

we need to walk as Jesus walked and be humble

there's a way to man that may seem right

but theres only one way that leads to life

we have to trust that Gods way is right

if we put our faith in him he will bring us through the fire

Steve says:

I'm in the process of trying to start a group meeting around McDowell county. As of right now idk of any. A friend of mine is starting one in welch in Feb. I'm trying to get one going in n the Gary area. These bigger cities have at least one everyday. with all the addiction and deaths from addiction we need a place where people who are struggling can come to talk with others who have been there and not feel ashamed. A place where no one looks down on them. I reached out to the mayor of Gary yesterday an plan on talking to a couple pastors to see if I can find a place to have these meetings. I'm trying to see how many people would be in interested in attending these meetings. The only way we will get stronger is in unity. like, comment, and share if you or someone you know would be interested.---January 27

and

there are people who think they know what recovering addicts are going through but just because you've done a couple pills or snorted a line of coke doesn't make you an addict in the same way that working at a hospital doesn't make you a Dr. no matter how much clean time we have there are days we wake up wondering if this is gonna be the day we slip. it's a constant battle of the mind especially when you have the means to do so. you may think that your actions don't have an effect on an individual and you probably don't care but they do. and I know it's another tool of the enemy to try to get me back but I'm sure that others don't know that. in the past anytime we felt anger, joy, resentment, loneliness, our escape was drugs. Now days I use the bible and prayer. but 20+ years of running to the wrong things takes time to break those cycles. I also know that there are certain people who don't want to see us succeed, but all I'm saying is just watch how you treat people,, you might be the straw that breaks the camel's back.---January 26

Those are powerful statements that come straight from the heart. I think Steve is being a realist here, and I say that with my own struggles and the struggles of many friends in mind. The January 27 statement brought a reaction from someone in McDowell County, West Virginia that I believe is entirely justified. They wrote:

I’ve said that before! Here our county was having the highest od rate in the nation at one time, and not only was there no facilities available for recovery, but there’s not even any AA type meetings! It’s proof to me how our state government thinks we don’t matter in McDowell, and why it’s SOOO very harmful for residents and former residents to think it’s ok for them to leave here and talk like we’re nothing but addicts and low life’s with no redeemable qualities.

Why do I think that this statement is totally justified? Because I believe that the person who wrote this knows from first-hand experience what they're talking about and because it is certainly true that West Virginia and most of Appalachia do not receive the levels of social services and care that are needed. Most of the region lives in a semi-colonial state, producing wealth for export and exporting workers to other states and providing large numbers of people to the military but getting almost nothing back that reaches the grassroots. Most of the politicians act as if they're serving colonial masters. I cannot think of a nicer way to say it. People who want to get sober may have to go elsewhere, as the writer says. But why can't home be part of the care and medicine we need?

Amy Grant and Vince Gill push back against bigotry and get attacked. Let's support them.

It's hard to live in my world and not hear about how the contemporary Christian music icon Amy Grant and her husband country singer Vince Gill have unintentionally stepped into a controversy by hosting their niece's same-sex wedding on their Tennessee farm. This wedding could go on as a more-or-less simple family event or it could be taken as "a beautiful act of pro-LGBTQ affirmation," as the good folks at Faithful America see it, but the word is that the evangelist Franklin Graham is denouncing Grant on social media, threatening her niece with an eternity in hell and accusing Grant of crossing some theological lines.

I have good friends on both sides of this, and since I'm opposed to bigotry and anti-LGBTQIA+ prejudices I'm going to side with Grant and Gill and the soon-to-be-married couple. Faithful America says that Grant has shown support for the LGBTQIA+ community in the past, and they see this as her most straightforward step in that direction to date. The conservative Christian leadership has good reason to worry when people like Grant and Gill step up and out on issues that these leaders don't own. Country singers probably carry more weight than these businessmen-preachers do at this point.

Grant has stated her views pretty clearly. She told the Washington Post, "Honestly, from a faith perspective, I do always say, 'Jesus, you just narrowed it down to two things: love God and love each other.' I mean, hey -- that's pretty simple."

It's a strange thing being on the same team with Grant and Gill, though. I have never been a fan of either of them, but their music is not the point here. When people in their positions step out on the right issues we have to stand with them. I have not seen a story on this in Country Queer yet, but I'm sure that they will post one. And I may be buying a ticket to an upcoming Amy Grant concert if that will help things out.

Please get over to Faithful America and join their efforts to support Grant and Gill and the lucky couple.

Here is my favorite Amy Grant video:

Amy Grant - Better Than A Hallelujah (Official Music Video)

     

"I wish the world would pay more attention to children. We could learn a lot from them."

Whether this is a true story or not doesn't matter to me. If this happened, it is a wonderful life lesson and shows something good occurring between people, a solidarity that spans age and experience and position. If it didn't happen, we can still say that someone wants this to happen enough that they thought about it, produced a story and a graphic, and it has become quite popular because others want to believe in love and solidarity. The intention and hope should get as much honor as the deed.

"This morning, during first period, my kids could tell that I was a little off. When they asked why I wasn’t acting normal I explained to them that my wife’s father had passed away this weekend and that I was worried about her. They all said they were sorry and then we got started on our work. While standing at my door giving hugs and high fives at dismissal to 2nd period one little girl put something in my hand. She told me “This is for your wife. I know it was real expensive when my daddy died and I don’t really want ice cream today anyways.” I wish the world would pay more attention to children. We could learn a lot from them."

Credit: Price Lawrence

‘It is a charity wrapped with dignity, my child.’

Treff Watts tells this story on the Appalachian Americans Facebook page:

An old man was on a corner selling his eggs when a woman stopped and asked how much he was charging.

The old man replied, '$0.25 an egg, Madam.' She said to him, 'I will take 6 eggs for $1.25, or I will leave.' The old man replied, 'Come take them at the price you want. This may be a good beginning because I have not been able to sell even a single egg today’. She took the eggs and walked away feeling she had won.

She got into her fancy car and went to a posh restaurant with her friend. There, she and her friend ordered whatever they liked. They ate a little and left a lot of what they ordered. Then she went to pay the bill. The bill cost her $45.00; she gave $50.00 and asked the restaurant owner to keep the change. This incident might have seemed normal to the owner but very painful to the poor egg seller.

The point is, why do we always show we have power when we buy from needy ones? And why are we generous to those who do not even need our generosity? My father used to buy simple goods from poor people at high prices, even though he did not need them. Sometimes he even used to pay extra for them. I got concerned by this act and asked him why he did so? My father replied, ‘It is a charity wrapped with dignity, my child.’

Rebecca A. Ward: TOGETHERNESS—NOT OTHERNESS—A REMEDY FOR GLOBAL HEALING (from Braided Way)

Some wonderful words from Rebecca A. Ward writing in Braided Way:

Human beings have an infinite capacity to be kind, generous, and supportive of one another. When that happens, I call it the huddle effect. It often occurs when people need support during a crisis. Suddenly, we realize how much we need each other. Recently, my neighborhood experienced a massive blackout—our public utility shut off all electricity for a week to lessen the potential for fire outbreaks during California’s drought season. When that happened, my next-door neighbors turned on the only generator in the neighborhood and hosted a big dinner party. Everyone came together to break bread and enjoy each other’s company. We laughed and caught up on our lives, forgetting about the blackout, joking about the minor inconveniences of no electricity, and feeling the support of our little village. We set aside political and other differences; we found comfort and support in each other’s company.

Human beings need each other. We’re pack animals who thrive in close contact with others. If you exist only for yourself, you risk losing out on one of the most meaningful aspects of the human experience—belonging. Being part of something larger than yourself is meaningful, fulfilling, and rewarding. It’s a primary reason that people have children, impactful careers, and/or an abiding faith in a higher power.

The extended village provides the familial and societal context for your core belief systems. A loving, healthy village fosters life-affirming values. Kindness, consideration, and a healthy respect for others (both inside and outside the group) are common hallmarks of a healthy ecosystem within a group. Conversely, a village where the members have suffered prolonged deprivation, separation, or mistreatment can become a breeding ground for fear and mistrust.

When we find ourselves struggling with the effects of collective trauma—whether it’s hardship that we’ve experienced firsthand, or something that’s been passed through the generations—a healthy support system is one of our frontline defenses. Creating and sustaining a healthy system allows us to build the psychological bridge from fear to love.

Not only do human beings need each other for mental and emotional sustenance, but also our nervous systems depend on each other for safety and connection. When you’re separated from your village, when you’re lonely or isolated, there’s a dramatic impact on your physical and emotional health. This isolation severely compromises your well-being. That’s why people seek companionship and support from others.

Read the rest here.

Some commentary on what happened to Damar Hamlin and shared interests

In my world what happened to Damar Hamlin and the role of the players and the NFL Players Association in taking righteous on-the-spot action to end the game on January 2 has loomed extra-large. There have been many strong commentaries on what happened, and Damar Hamlin's gradual recovery is rightfully being cheered on. One of the better commentaries has come from Garrett Bush, who does the Ultimate Cleveland Sports Show. Mr. Bush speaks with prophetic energy.

If you are tracking the context for what happened to Damar Hamlin, please go here to hear Robin Young of National Public Radio speak with Mr. Bush and to catch a great clip of Mr. Bush on his show.

It is hard for me to tell what Mr. Bush thinks of the Players Association from these clips. I support the Association and all unions, and I hope that we all have the bandwidth to understand that the players and their union took direct action and closed down the game on January 2 and that that took courage on their part. It also sets a great example for all workers and for all unions. I don't hear fans faulting the platers, so it's a safe gamble that what did has mass support.

I think that Mr. Bush makes a strong point in his interview with Robin Young when he talks about coal miners, football players, and Black Lung (see here and here). We all have this tendency to think of sports figures as living and working in another universe, apart from the rest of the working-class. Mr. Bush goes in another direction and shows how the players need to understand the experiences of blue-collar workers, and especially coal miners, and how the work done by the players increasingly feels like blue-collar work to them. This opens a box full of possibilities. Shared experiences create shared interests and shared interests can create powerful movements for social change.

What Mr. Bush does not say---and he may not be aware of this---is that the numbers of people suffering with Black Lung are increasing and the average age for a mine worker with Black Lung is dropping. Why is this so? The nature of coal mining work and the methods used in mining are changing somewhat. The coal mining industry is doing relatively well, but workers are still near the end of the line when it comes to benefitting from this. The most important factor in this in my mind is the loss of union representation in many mining districts. And that loss of union representation in mining should concern everyone.

Mr. Bush makes strong points about the precedents set by miners getting Black Lung benefits and better safety conditions in the mines over time but his data is a little old and the benefits and safety conditions must improve. But both the NFL Players and coal miners have taken strong actions to protest their working conditions. Work safety conditions and coverage for injured nd disabled workers must improve  so all workers---all of us---can do better. He still has a strong argument, and he's going in the right direction, but we all need to lend a hand and build solidarity. 
 

The basic message of this blog...

I caught this on Bill Weissman's Facebook page the other day. Artistic credit goes

to Paola De La Cruz at https://www.paoladelacruz.com/. This is also a basic message that I hope you find in this blog every day.

Some things to think about, some things to ponder, some things to do

Friend of Sea Wolf Books recommendation from Bob—

Thomas Bell's novel "Out of This Furnace" (1941) tells the story of several generations

of Slovak immigrants in Pennsylvania. It is not the common and idealized story of immigrants,

but the flesh-and-blood story of people who worked on the railroads and in the steel mills. A

reader can cry and laugh through the book and share the hopes of the steel workers and their

families in the closing chapters. My family were not Slovak immigrants, and they did not work

in the steel mills, but there is so much there from my grandparents' and parents' generations that

I could easily locate something of my family's story there. The book can be raw in sections, but

it is always honest. I reread passages from the book at certain times of the year every year as an act

of memory and of thanking and honoring those who have passed on. The book is one of the most popular published by University of Pittsburgh Press and is used in some college classes. Attempts

have been made to turn it into a film as well.

Available through Sea Wolf Books at: https://bookshop.org/a/87294/9780822952732

The Sago Mine Disaster---January 2, 2006

When I started to write this post

I began to abbreviate,
as in "Jan. 2, 2006,"
but this is not a moment

to abbreviate anything.

Spell it out. Scream it. Cry it off.

On this day,
January 2,

in the Year of Our Lord 2006,
a blast in coal mine
in Sago,
near Buckhannon
in Upshur County,
in West Virginia,

in Appalachia,
not far from where I once hunted
and near where I once did flood relief

and a body search,
trapped thirteen miners underground
for two days.

Twelve perished in all

but our memories.
Twelve good men died.
Another good man made it out.

It's called a disaster

because we abbreviate.
If we had to say "murder"
we could not 
come to terms
with what that means.
It's called perishing

because we cannot say
that contracting out

and shell companies
and multinational corporations
make Appalachia a colony
and they will

and do

despoil the land

and crush the soul
and kill workers
if they have to.

We perform a ritual

with our wounding

and call it work.

We perform a ritual

with our trauma

and call it politics.

We perform a ritual

with our dispossession

and say we need

the jobs.

There were warnings enough.

Sago was not safe,
this was well-known.
That first shift went in

when it was dark,
just 6:30 in the morning,
when the kids are getting up for school,
when the coffee might be on,
when someone might be
whispering a prayer,
and then that mine blew up.
The shift never made it

to the face of the mine.

Don't abbreviate. Tell the story.
There were at least forty-seven dead
in the mines that year, or so
my memory tells me.

My conscience has

much more to say.

I was 2550 miles away,
give or take quite a few heartbreaks,
and could not tell anyone what I felt.
For once Oregon's gray cold matched
how my heart felt.

For once I was 

silent and began to understand

miles as heartbeats

and tears.   

Forty-seven killed in the mines that year.
I repeat that because my heart
breaks like ice, and there is anger
in my hands. There was me once telling
an Assistant Secretary of Labor
what death in the mines meant

in a room full of older mine workers.

They knew better than me.
My voice and heart cracking,

and I felt so stupid,
but the room took a breath,
the walls took a breath,
and then those with me
stood up and applauded
and he made a hasty exit.

But on January 2, 2006
I was silent.

Prayer after prayer,
but I knew
that all would not be well.

Why do we argue over how precious life is?
Why is it policy that someone must die
so that my lights go on?

Why is every light in the house on

and yet we're living in darkness?
And why did I feel stupid trying to ask

these questions, so afraid of crying

in front of others?

And why

and how

did those others

feel me?      

Our United Mine Workers of America held strong
and would not be bullied. Sago had been
a non-union mine, but at times like these
hearts can beat as one.

I say their last names:

Anderson
Bennett
Bennett
Groves
Hamner
Helms
Jones
Lewis
Toler
Ware
Weaver
Winans

I say their names again.

Mister...

And again.

Brother...

I do not abbreviate.

  

The suicide prevention crisis line is 988. Using alone? Please call 1-800-484-3731. See below for more.

 

A good resolution for the new year

 

Some things to study on and some things to smile on

 

"Seasonal decor tip: “Happy holidays” has almost all the letters for “Solidarity” and you 

can make the missing R, I, and T from the unused letters."---Alexandra Bradbury

Season reminders from Shannon Nelson at the V. & V. Restaurant in Richlands, VA. Please read!

All I really know about Shannon Nelson is that she runs the great V. & V. Restaurant in Richlands, Virginia (374 Front St, Richlands, VA.) and that she's really busy and has a great heart and is pretty smart. If I ever disappear and you need to find me, check the V. & V. Restaurant first. It is the kind of place that would be a second home to me if I lived round Richlands. Shannon posted the following reminders for the season that need to get around. Please pass them on.

Before you start bragging that you’ve done your Christmas shopping and post a picture of 175 wrapped gifts under the tree, or posting pics of your matching pajama family portraits, please remember :

Some parents have lost their jobs and don’t know how they’re going to feed their kids, never mind buying presents for them.
Some families are on 80% pay and only just managing to pay bills.
Some people have lost family members and Christmas won’t be the same now or ever again. Some are missing family that acts like they don’t exist
Some people don’t go online and now have no idea when or how they’ll be able to shop.
Some people are completely isolated and alone, and won’t be receiving any gifts from anyone at all.
Some people have had their entire world turned upside down!
Some people are fighting for their lives!!! Christmas shopping is the last thing on their minds.
So remember, nobody likes a show off!!!
For me this year, more than ever before, it's more important who is around your tree rather than what’s under it.
It’s Christ’s Birthday!!!
Be humble. Be thoughtful. Be kind. That’s what the holiday season is really about.
#CopyAndPasteIfYouAgree ... I Do

***

We will be closed December 24, 25, and 26 so that we can give our extremely short and over worked staff some time to just enjoy their family's. We are thankful for the ones that we have that keep showing up and helping us every day and honestly wouldn't be able to do it without them. So if you see them out take a second to tell them what a great job they are doing. And if you come in and your order is messed up or you have to wait longer than you would like on your food, please keep in mind the person you are about to yell at showed up that day and probably countless days before and they are trying their best. I'm not just talking about at v&v no matter where you are or what your mad about take 2 seconds to think about what you are about to say to the tired overworked and stressed out worker that showed up that day to help you. Life is hard and sometimes a little patience and understanding go a long way. We love you all and hope everyone has the best Christmas.

A friend of mine makes a statement. Please hear what is being said.

Caring for the Deceased, Caring for the Living by Bees, Desert Aid worker

I have mixed feelings about writing this piece about death in the desert.

Our organization is named No More Deaths; our stated mission is “to end death and suffering in the Mexico-US borderlands.” Death is central here, I know. But so much has already been written about the US government’s choice to use the desert as a weapon of genocide, and journalists have produced copious portraits of individual volunteers coming across deceased people at the border.
Let me first tell you, if I may, about the delight.

Let me tell you about getting my ass kicked in pick-up basketball by teenagers who had been walking through the desert for weeks. Let me tell you about how many times I’ve explained “Yes, you have correctly identified the English word for chicken, but Chicken of the Sea is not, in fact, chicken.” Let me tell you about meeting people who hadn’t had access to clean water in days and telling them (truthfully) that they smelled better than the ragtag crew of punks dropping fresh gallons and food around the Altar Valley.

Let me tell you about a man who had spent nearly a month trying to get through the Sonoran Desert on foot, whose eyes filled with tears when he spoke about the desert because to him the plants, the birds, the sunrises blossoming across the mountains, were all so wonderful. “The desert is beautiful,” he said.
In August, No More Deaths volunteers working around Arivaca found the remains of four recently deceased migrants. Death is central here, and yet none of the longer term volunteers can recall finding so many people in so short a time in this particular corridor. The desert is wonderful and terrible all at once.

Let me tell you, if I may, about the care and compassion of people in the desert.

One man explained to me why it’s difficult to report deceased people on the trails, even to humanitarian aid workers. “It’s dangerous, you know? If I tell somebody I saw a body, maybe they’ll decide I’m responsible for it. Maybe they call the police.” And then, risk be damned, that man proceeded to tell me where he saw someone who had died and made me promise that we would go look for that person. In fact, undocumented people reported three of the deceased people that we found*, ensuring that we could recover them quickly and help their families find a measure of closure.

When it would be easy to prioritize rage and anguish, I see volunteers prioritize care. People who have had traumatic experiences with law enforcement hike for miles with police to ensure a person is retrieved quickly and with dignity. Volunteers take photos of the surrounding landscape so families can see where their loved ones passed away. Atheists place flowers and pray. Cynical feelings arise in me and I wonder if these gestures are useful. Then I speak with a relative of one of the men who died.
I was in the group that found your loved one. We picked flowers and prayed for him, and for your family.

We pray for you too. Please, if you can tell me, what was it like where he died?

It was peaceful and beautiful. I know that sounds strange, but it was.

That’s good. That is helpful to hear.

Please let us know if there is anything we can do for your family.

Thank you for telling me. Thank God my cousin was found.

What the magazine profiles do not describe is that when we find people in the desert, we care for the people who walk on these trails, for their families, and for ourselves. They care for us in return, sharing food with us, sharing stories with us, asking how they can help us, and praying for us (forgiving any non-believers). Volunteers forgive each other for speaking clumsily and imprecisely, for responding from trauma and anger, for not doing and thinking everything with absolute perfection. One particularly hard day I share a feeling – that these people died close to where we leave gallons and it’s hard not to feel haunted by that – and no one shames me for it.

My fellow volunteers know the truth as well as I do. We could drop hundreds of gallons of water on every trail in the desert, and people would still die. They die because of settler colonialist violence, extraction economies, and imperialism. Because Border Patrol agents are paid to scatter and terrorize and kidnap people, instead of help them. Because horror is central to US border policy and no quantity of water can wash the blood off the hands of the people who write it. Because of a lack of care that is antithetical to so many of us in the desert.

I once met someone who carried a member of his group on his back so she could make it through alive. Another who assumed tremendous personal risk to ensure ailing people could receive urgent medical treatment. Another who reported a deceased person with the full knowledge that he might be blamed for that person’s death. I never found a way to contact the man who reported the deceased person directly to us to assure him we kept our promise, but I did run into a group who had walked the same trail. They were relieved someone cared enough to search, and then asked if we knew his name or where he was from. They intended to pray for him and his family. I told them we went to recover the body and saw that police treated the person with respect, and they asked me if I was okay.

Major publications construct a landscape of ceaseless adrenaline rushes – guides abandoning groups, cartels exacting exorbitant sums from the destitute, brutality of Border Patrol agents, death on the trails – and it feels like strange pathos porn, bordering on romanticization of the worst of humanity. What I would like to offer is that there is also care here, and I have seen the best in people.

I do not ignore or erase the despair in this work, nor do I pretend away the violence. Simply: I agree with the man who told me the desert is beautiful. If you have ever lost someone close to you then you know what this feels like. Your loved one is dead, light shines through the trees, a baby giggles in your arms, the world continues to turn, and the person you loved most in the world is dead. I was present on three occasions when we found people. There were wildflowers everywhere, birds singing sweet and clear around us, creeks flowing gently in the background. We cared for the deceased, and we cared for the living.

This is what I ask us to remember when we read other stories about the border, when despair and doubt settle in to stay for a while, when the challenges feel insurmountable and endless: many awful stories are true, and so are many wonderful ones. Terrible things happen, and we can provide comfort in spite of it all.

Death is central here, and care is all around.
 
Author’s note: I am a white settler who grew up in the Great Lakes region, not the desert. This piece is written from that perspective, and I intend to represent no one’s experiences but my own.

Some things to study on and smile on

Welch, West Virginia at dusk two days ago. Photo from The Welch News.

 I can argue the politics and merits of coal all day long, but a full coal train pulling through the hollers and valleys and patches with its rumble and whistle and earth-shaking will always grab my heart. This is from Coalfield, W. Va. on December 20, 1987.

From the Standing Bear Network

 

For our sisters and brothers struggling with substance abuse disorders and addiction

I know that many sisters and brothers are struggling with substance abuse disorders and addictions and that this time of year can be especially tough. Believe me, I know that. This section here isn't intended to save anyone, but maybe there is something here that can help or that people can find useful and pass on to others. This is a small effort, and may be inconsequential, but if we build hope and support we're going to help and eventually win.

The Holiday Season is upon us, please remember that it’s okay to not be okay during this time. Remember that you are loved, even if it’s not be the folks you think should be providing that love.
Also remember to be safe! Don’t use alone if possible. Carry naloxone and other supplies to help keep you here with us. Call the Never Use Alone Hotline (800-484-3731) or a trusted friend if you don’t have someone to use with.

You matter, you are important, and we want you here.

  

Our brother Steven Cline wrote this a while back. He thinks that he might make a song out of it, but he's graciously offering this up because he feels like it might help someone. I agree--it will help someone, and can help many people. And i hope that it does become a song.

 
it all started in my teens
trying to fill the emptiness inside of me
feeling like a loaner, the devil started tempting me
with pleasures of this world that would make me lose everything
I've tried it with girls, and I've tried it with pills
I've tried it by drinking to the bottom of the bottle
but that void inside of us only Jesus can fill
there's pleasure in sin only for a season
when the funs all gone your left with addiction
strongholds and chains weren't mentioned
if not for the sin I wouldn't know deliverance
God has forgiven me for all the wrong I've done
cause of the blood shed in the cross by his son
he's the king of kings the Lord of lords
he forgave all of mine hell forgive all of yours