The miracles are coming

But they’ve been here the whole time

In the brokenness of spirit

Where He calls us each, His mine

The miracles are coming

In the peace where pain resides

Only His love remains constant

In Him alone I hide

The miracles are coming

Never alone I need to be

Praise God for His omnipotence

His gift of Son for Me


Soul Searching, where have all the unborn gone?

Jeremiah 1:5

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you”

Where have all the unborn gone?

Long time passing

Where have all the unborn gone?

All those many souls

Soul, comes within that first breath?

Upon the beating of our hearts?

Or is life forced through His breath?

From where each soul finds start

Conception to creation of soul

Our Father, He meant to be?

This I believe comes before 

What we are meant to see

I believe within that beating heart

Has already a soul been formed!!!!

The miracle has been performed

The Topic (non-topic) of Abortion

Abortion, a cultural and religious issue.  Abortion, a life and death issue.  Abortion, it’s all in how you look at it and I pray we do just that.  Abortion, an act of violence chosen in response to terror!!!!

Compassion, when we care enough to listen and counsel.  Compassion, when we can love beyond our fear for self and into another.  Compassion, the pride of righteousness is replaced with the solution of life.  Compassion, Gods gift to respond to another not merely react to their pain.

Hypocrisy, when we shout down each other for shouting down each other.  Hypocrisy, when the bullied becomes the bully.  Hypocrisy, when we profess to be the champion for the less fortunate yet choose the more convenient way, in hopes to silent the already silent problem.  Hypocrisy, who can scream the loudest while victimizing the victim wins the argument.

I pray we look beyond the right to choose

Deligently, research why and what we have to loose

I think we get so caught up in the act of fight

That we know not what, the true plight

Sometimes we’re quick to judge another

Flaunt our righteousness in protection of sister/brother

Arguments screamed in high volume

In the hopes that doing so, the agenda you must consume

The fight to right the injustice to all?

Loses it’s merit when discussion. not brought to call

Roseanne set the Barr

Thank you for bravely, sharing your commitment and your willingness to not let your political-opinion be used to define you.

Thank you for your honesty and suggestion we should continue encouragement to meet in the middle and start the discussion, is much appreciated.  Please tell us where to watch more discussion and please some Roseanne sarcasm , it’s honest humor is so refreshing.

Thank you Mr Hannity












If I Were In Charge


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

The workweek 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.

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




The poem was written, from my own frustration.  Hard to stomach sometimes what I  hear and see in regards to abortion.  I cringe when I hear a man in front of a camera willing to use this subject to perhaps further his own gain.  It deeply saddens me when women scream at women, shutting each other down.  Abortion is such an ugly thing, so ugly I think it forces us to ugliness.  Back against the wall most of us will pull out justification, blame and judgement to overcome our fear, sadness and what eventually becomes loss of self.


Fists pounded, screams cried

Vicious attacks, no longer denied

I demand the “right to choose”

Don’t dare discuss the child to loose

Why is it, we don’t talk to one another?

When comes the choice, not to mother

I fiercely proclaim, “my right” is right!

Life and death, painfully evolves into fight

But the loss involves more than just a voice

Compassion seems, not part of the choice

For the voiceless child, where is the concern?

Separation of child from parent, how to discern?

Protests screamed, don’t dare “rip” that child from mother’s arm’s

Message inconsistent, when the voiceless we’re willing to harm!!!!

Can we not consider, the possibility we’re failing each other

As demands produce loss,  innocence cry as if to be smothered

Truth Be Told

Written from the perspective of an old woman, who remembers the terrified teenager that sat anxiously waiting for her turn on the abortion table.

Life’s lines get blurred when objective is lost
Why then not counsel before such great cost
Many say my rights are of the utmost concern
Not a decision made lightly, the truth to discern

Offer solution, without destroying another
Anything please, than to abort me as mother
Tell me the truth as to what to expect
The expulsion of life, to relieve my regret

My anguish and panic are not up for abuse
The remnant of child, kept silent as part of the ruse
Not to be caught in agenda, as death is proposed
Compassion means more when life’s not opposed

If truly my rights are of the utmost concern
Honesty please, when is the rhythm of heartbeat on turn
The objective is not lost, the lines not a blur
The expedient death of child should not be the cure

An Encouraging Word, For An ENCOURAGING Word


Today I sat an almost empty theatre with my husband, two adult sons and three preteen grandson’s.  They had agreed to go with me to see “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?”   It was an amazingly well done documentary and touched not only my heart, but I could see the weirdest reaction from my children and grandchildren too.  My sweet boy’s are a wild bunch of funny characters and conditioned to be entertained through loud theatrics, detached portrayals of violence and exploitation to market through and on the big screen.  Today though they sat quietly, no side talk, no critique, only a movement of thought, heart and spirit.  It was AWESOME!!!!!   When do you ever go to a movie anymore and get moved by the  presence of a not so quiet determination through dignity.  For me and mine, the message through deliberate gentleness was not wasted and I wanted so much to share my gratitude.  I hope to goodness everybody sees this movie.  What a wonderful experience to witness.

The purposeful lack of distraction, from beginning to end was so refreshing and powerful.  The filmmaker allowed us in through sight, sound and testimony the celebration and strength of character, in a man determined to share kindness.  Isn’t it true though that an encouraging word is never wasted.  

Thank you to those who did such a wonderful job in welcoming us back to Mr. Rogers neighborhood.  Thank you for letting me take my loves to a movie that celebrated just that very thing, love.  Thank you Mr. Rogers!!!!!

Through HIS Scar, My Heart Does See

Christ has left a mark on me

Through His scar, my heart does see

His blood has stained my very soul

My God, He came to make me whole

The cross, not lost on this child of His

The love He gave, now and in forever is

He offers beauty, beyond life’s harsh rim

In peace is comfort, found through Him

Blind no more, in Him, is gift of sight

He reigns past the dark of night

Christ has left a mark on me

Through His scar, my heart does see

Less Spin PLEASE


It is a wide gate from which propaganda does swing
depending on the belief to which you do cling
determining what side of the fence you stand on
and what you are willing to do, to further the con

Any grain of the truth, where in once lied
skillfully misused and abused, in hope agenda magnified
the self-righteous speak volumes from just beyond gate
suffering must be exploited in hope to deflect and berate

The pain and horrors that are real enough, become script
in comes the actor for airtime, the well-trained hypocrite
when  finger is zealously pointed past those in real pain
in order to feed another’s ego, hate and disdain

Those who claim to champion the bullied with purpose to bully
anger, frustration, pain, and ill will force open the gate fully
brutally the weapon propaganda meant to be, continues to swings wide
the goal becomes obvious, barricades oppose unity in order to divide

Quiet the mouth, put down the act, replace verbal tirades and slam that gate shut
less the theatric, no more talking heads, vehement in their screams of “but”
the wise do not forget when hysteria whips into a frenzy, this doesn’t happen overnight
the noise of chaos drown out fact, can’t we see the motive to exploit another’s plight?

Sticks and stones do break bones, words destroy when purposely weaponized to blame
accusation reflects more about the accuser, mirroring the character from which came
when  “you spin it your way and I’ll spin it mine”, becomes the mode of attack
the fight becomes the focus, lost is where it all began, all form of reason we begin to lack