If I was in Charge (I’d for sure have my own hippy chick ice cream truck)


Three out of the four seasons would be summer.  Spring would be allowed only because it works its way into summer.

The work week would consist of Monday, Friday, Wed, Friday to be followed up with Friday of course!

You could still buy a Look candy bar for a nickel.

Prayer would not only be allowed in school, it would be a course of study.

Every city would have at least one drive-in movie with a concession stand fully stocked with bon-bons and popcorn drenched in so much butter “you could shake a stick at it”.  (By the way, if I was in charge you’d have to laugh now, cause that’s some funny stuff.)

I could always find my car in a crowded parking lot, instead of looking like a lost old lady when I can’t.

There would be more ice cream trucks to chase down and every one of them would offer a senior discount.  Senior discounts for sprinting and getting that blood a pumping and also discounts for interacting, encouraging and mentoring other kids at heart.

If I was in charge, less lemonade, more pretty centerpieces



Abortion Is, But What if We’re Wrong?

As much as I want this subject discussed in the light of day, it is frustrating to hear it being used as a political weapon and especially out of the mouths of other women.  I tell myself their mercy is misguided rather than believe their empathy lost for political gain, so I pray and I write and God calms my spirit.  He reminds me only through Him will the babble of destruction come to an end, when we hear with our hearts where life does begin and He’s got it.

Abortion is, but what if we’re wrong?

As we gamble, to whom a life does belong

With “Choice”, there’s always that chance

Hindsight is painful, beyond a grieving glance

Abortion is, but what if we’re wrong?

Using bold justification, to make the argument strong

From “Choice” there is no going back

Dire consequences remain, as the child we lack

Abortion is, but what if we’re wrong?

Making decisions to be lived all life long

Costly regret, does not allow for “do over”

From life and death “Choice” we will not recover

Abortion is, but what if we’re wrong?

Our soul absolved by the clamoring throng

Mistakes brings regrets and pain unexpected

In our “Choice” a life from God, we rejected


Long, Long Time Ago, Abortion Still Not Far Away


It was Southern California, the early 1970’s when a 16yr old girl and father show up at a Dr’s office, where it is determined she is 12 weeks pregnant.  At this point the Dr recommends waiting to at least 16 weeks to abort.  For many years I did not speak of this, I was in shock, shame and so confused as to how the adults I trusted could help me murder my child.  My father must have convinced the Dr it was necessary to abort.  Though some memories of places, time and names are still not easy for me to remember, what I do recall is the following.

Myself and a 15yr old girl were in one room and within eye view of each other.  The Dr injected a solution into our abdomens, the large needle left a scar (in more ways than one) for many years.  I believe we each were injected with saline.  I did not see her deliver her child.  However the Dr made it a point that I see mine, as he laid him upon my tummy and told me it was my son.  I’m not sure why he did that but I will never forget it.  I don’t remember the Dr’s name, neither does my sister who has tried to help me piece back specifics because I wonder how many others he helped to abort.

My point in sharing this story is that I keep hearing how abortion should be a choice between a mother and her Dr.  Well it was a Dr who did that to me and I think he was very human in his own judgements and maybe emotional turmoil.  His decisions to perform a late term abortion on a sixteen yr old kid, can in no way be justified as humane.  None the less it happened and what blows my mind is that 47 yrs later it continues to!!!!!

Except for one kind teacher and my mother there was no discussion of the life within me.  My mother had told me whatever I wanted to do she was there for me.  But I knew she was having problems being there for herself and I had little hope of her being able to take this on.  The teacher took me to tour an unwed mothers home, which terrified me more.  The thought of months away in contrast to the almost instant relief of abortion (not that I even understood what abortion was) made the decision easier to accept.  After all I had others willing to help me get rid of my problem in a more immediate fashion.  Dear God if I knew then what I know now.  If I felt any flutter of life prior to my child’s impending doom, it was not discussed.  Everything at that time was about the end to the beginning and how the end could change my life (it certainly did).

Now 47yrs later, the argument regarding choice has become vicious, much like abortion but not quite.  To abort is an ugly, violent act that attempts to sterilize us from life but murder is an act not sterile at all.  We have no more excuses.  Our panic, pain and fear should in my opinion be balanced with the fact there are life signals.  Child voiceless but through the volume of information science has allowed  heartbeat heard and through ultrasound we can see the human form moving within.  Is there pain when ripped apart?

If the argument is to remain the same in regards to choice and “trusting” those other professionals willing to assist in relieving our panic, should we not acknowledge at a time of crisis, we need to put our trust in more than just another human being (who comes with his/her own bias and agenda).

When in the terror of panic, I truly believe it is our own human nature to want to experience relief and that is so understandable.  We are human, Dr’s are human, parents are human and no longer can we deny a fetus is a living human.

My prayer remains the same, we quit hurting each other while professing to help one another.  Mixed messages make for little solution.  Compassion is served best through the empathy of understanding past the quest for instant relief, because the truth is there is none.  We must tell the truth to those who need it most.  Caring must come with honesty, tell women the truth, the room may be sterile but the act of murder, not so much.

God Puts Us All Here For A Reason

I just watched the town hall on Fox with Kirsten Gillibrand. 

At the end of her high volume and self-aggrandizing spiel all I heard was 

“God puts us all here for a reason.”  If that is true, does that include the unborn?  Did God put them here too and just how did God put the rest us here?  

I got the message loud and clear that she thinks she was put here for a reason, it was difficult to miss even past the visual of her foot clumsily moving towards her mouth. 

In all sincerity if you really believe “God puts us all here for a reason”, is that not the best argument for a right to life?


Back in 1992, my husband’s work duties at a local school included making sure the large on site American flag was taken down, folded and put away for the next day.  One day he became frustrated when no one was available to lend a hand and he struggled to ensure the flag did not touch the ground.  It was later that day, he reflected on what that flag means to him and wrote the following poem.


The time was when the mere sight of you

With your white stars on a field of blue

And your thirteen stripes of red and white

Would make men stand tall and do what’s right


Brave men have bled and died to win you a place

On a thousand hills, to bring freedom to every race

You inspired many a heart to burst forth in song

As you marked the triumph of right over wrong


As I bring you down from your place of display

While the sun is setting on still another day

Things seem different now than they were then

Few will stand and be counted as your friend


You’ve been torn, desecrated and even burned

By those who for freedom have never yearned

They take their freedom for granted everyday

They say, “No one could possibly take it away”


Can we not see you for what you really are?

You represent not what we have but who we are

You are not a piece of cloth hanging on a pole

You represent our people, spirit, body and soul


You now have no glory of your own to see

Nor have you ever had, it seems to me

You are but a mirror reflecting the pride

The people of this nation possess inside


If we can not look on you and feel the pride

Maybe it’s time we take a good look inside

To make sure we are the best we can be

And that we live as if we deserve to be free


Then as we look on you, your glory to behold

We will not see a glory from days of old

But a reflection of ourselves is what we’ll see

Doing right and living as if we deserve to be free



Future Lost

So sad how we treat each other over the issue of abortion and especially disheartening as of late.  Abortion is the darkest of topic, it escapes the light and to this day casts a long foreboding shadow.  Blinded by the dark, there are times when panic leads to reaction as opposed to response.   As we react to the panic, nothing is off limits in the attempt for relief.  There just doesn’t seem anymore to be a shortage of fear, shame or blame to go around in regards to where we find ourselves.  It’s not like the light hasn’t come on within the last 46yrs, it has and we know so much more in regards to development of fetus.  Where we were blind we see, but what we see may not lend to that temporary relief which some fight to receive.  Much like abortion the fight is dirty, vicious, disgusting and contrary to solution.  Blind rage leads to denial of fact and the exploitation of a woman’s/man’s terror and pain.  To see women turning on women in anger is beyond disappointing.   But it is well understood that their frustration and anger comes from being victim to their own pain.  I believe in women helping women and my hope is that culture will finally allow enlightenment to what true compassion is for mother, child, father and humanity.  I pray one day we will quit beating each other senseless and lifeless in the attempt to control and justify keeping us in the dark.  This poem was written sometime ago and for all the above reasons.

Who decides when a future is lost?

The child sacrificed, for culture cost

A woman’s panic, exploited for gain

How is it justified, weaponizing her pain?

God, I pray for solution to prevail

Mother and child, we do not fail

Terminating innocents, the presence of soul

Choice over life, seems a contrary goal

Why not love past the offer of temporary relief?

Honestly sharing, with death comes grief

Telling the truth should not be a threat

Don’t we deserve, to live past our regret?

Precious the life, both mother and child

Never to be used or culture defiled

God, I pray you enlighten the heart

Future not lost, as life first does start


Just trying to “tip toe through the tulips” while 

Precariously pressing past prolific panderers who

Furiously fight for free, free, free for you and me?

Politician’s, professionally projecting the protection of planet

As the buffoon’s voice blasts, beyond soon non-existent horizon

Trip not, on the homeless souls who haplessly, through the horror of addiction, hobble down habitat hometown

Take care to avoid eye contact with the continuous caravan of celebrities who appear (at least to me) to be living in glass houses, constructed through self righteous celebration on their own concocted moral high ground.  

How’s bout a little more reasonable path in the attempt to actually get beyond the tulips without having to put on my rose colored glasses?

*Acknowledge just how degrading and harmful it is, to obviously pander in order to bait the vote

*Get REAL, ain’t nothing for FREE in this world, somebody pays, one way or another.  So less with the “bait” and more with logic.

*When a politician continually uses FEAR (as in climate change) to achieve agenda and in my opinion blatantly holds our children’s future over head’s (including the child’s), is not that a form of child abuse and contrary to care?  I feel so badly for our children, we plug them in, set the program (not even subtly) to include what they see/hear/learn/repeat/normalize, so many distractions from hope and all in the name of it!

*No more denial in regards to addiction and mental health.  Hometown USA (my hometown) should take a look at their own mixed message regarding Main Street (backstreet too).  Maybe don’t locate the pot shop across from the bikini barista stand, which sits next to the mission.  How’s about offering more businesses incentives to invest in the reincarnation of business and past the devastation of homelessness.  The recovery of our Main Street for those who need it most.  Compassion through solution and HOPE tangible in healing/strength/ dignity/and EMPLOYMENT, back to the business of life not death.

*I would love to see in my lifetime, women and men change the culture  in regards to abortion. It is NO longer 1973, many lives forever lost in child and women/men changed through the consequence of decision.  Not through judgement or hypocrisy should this be discussed and hopefully there will be acknowledgement as facts continue to emerge, regarding what we know about fetal development.  Will we ever honestly admit our human nature is to justify away facts in order to negate truth, truth that is scary at times, emotional and inconvenient when not wanted.  We can hold science up to support the “climate change” but not so much the facts science provides as to when life begins.  Never should a women’s/men’s terror at an unexpected event in life be exploited to achieve agenda and greed in the name of protecting rights, yet it’s done all the time.

Just sayin!!!!!

Mother’s Day, His Amazing Grace

D67E972D-7A49-4537-A3C6-815E436F586EAmazing and Grace, bookends to the book of life that bind securely this mothers love, a love I was incapable of fully giving until I received.

Bound within the pages unfold, love story evolves and incredibly Christ shifts gaze, allowing sight where once blind by the dark.

Prior to Christ emotions sometimes so close to the surface, when scratched the page became stained with blood and made for an inabitlity to turn.

In times of desperation the futile attempt would be made to write the book alone, always this ended in either temporary relief or complete exhaustion.

I didn’t know before Christ, that the book had already been written.  He wrote it without us BUT to include us, WHAT AN INCREDIBLE GIFT OF LOVE!!!!!

In doing so, there is a love letter to His children and this mother finds much solace in the fact He meant this for my loves too.

Thank you Father 

John 3:16

For God so loved the world, that he gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believe that in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.


Matthew 6:5-8

“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing on the street corners and in the synagogues, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, shut the door and pray unto your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. And when you pray, do not keep babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.”

The following poem was written because Matthew 6:5-8  speaks loudly, powerfully to me.  I’m of the belief God is well pleased when we bring to Him quietly, humbly, faithfully what He already knows.

Volumes of silence, powerful prayer

From love filled praise, or deep despair

Tangible faith, Father hears our heart

Lifted belief, His love from the start

No anonymity, from the bended knee

He’s waited for our prayer to be

Surrendered lost, no longer bound

Prayer by faith, in Him we’re found


The praise of peace
The peace in praise
Inside the heart is Jesus raised
The ransom paid in love the cost
So that my soul may not be lost
I praise the peace in Him alone
Forgiven sins He did atone
In peace He holds me close to thee
In praise I pray to constant be