I remember when I was going to be twenty-five. I thought it was so drastic because I was going to be a quarter of a century old. Wait! Stop the presses!

I have to poke fun of that mindset I had. I didn't want to celebrate that day but wasted it being miserable, instead. Now I'd like to go back to that younger version of me and say, "Hey, get a reality check! This is nothing to worry about, so why all the drama?"

I don't remember how I felt when I turned thirty. Now five years the wiser, I probably thought I'd never be that ridiculous again. Piece of cake! Thirty wasn't over the hill by any means!

When I turned forty, I was preparing myself to accepting the inevitable. The month before, I lost my father. If I could get through that, this paled in comparison.  Now middle age had knocked upon my door. I had no choice but to answer.

Now that I'm turning fifty, I'm trying to convince myself, "Dorothy, you'll be alright" but I'm surely not buying it. This time, I have something to write about--a half a century! A quarter more of a century upon that other quarter! What would my twenty-five-year old self think of that?

I'm trying to be okay with it, but I admit I'm struggling pretty badly . It should be a triumph! It should be an accomplishment! I've got things I want to improve on, but there are problems I overcame, places I went and people I have met. Nevertheless, I'm still afraid of the unknown.  Will I end up like my mother, the early stages of dementia, or my father with Alzheimer's?  

Where did the time go when I thought youth was on my side? What will the future hold? I find myself sandwiched between two worlds. One is gone forever and the other has yet to arrive.  I shouldn't be entangled in either one--regret or dread. I am not up for any battle.

I live in a youth obsessed culture. I live in an age when to be "in" is to be faster, prettier and younger. So it is what it is. Like it or not, here comes fifty.

He never asks to come, and he never wants to leave. And he's really no guest at all.

What he wants is to burrow into your brain, like a bad virus. He'd be very content to short circuit your hardware in your head. His ultimate desire, though, is your complete destruction.

There're many names for him: The Prince of Darkness, Father of Lies, Satan, Lucifer and the Devil are a few titles. He is the enemy of our souls, slick and cunning, deceitful and alluring. He's no more than a thief and a killer, certainly not your impish pal in a red suit with a pitchfork.  

He'd love it if you never believed in him at all, just as equally as he'd love you to be obsessed with him, finding his dark, sadistic image to be cool and a counterculture phenomenon.

I've been a target of his schemes because I believe in God and in the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross for our salvation. Being targeted goes for anybody that gets on his case. Too many people believe his lies, believe that they are of no real value or that God is either nonexistent or not good.  

So to my unwelcome house guest... you cannot have my soul. I am a child of God. Therefore, God has the final say, and He says that I am valuable, and that I am here for His good purposes.

Rage
It's the age
Peace
Conflicts cease
In the world
In your soul

I know
before I lay me down to sleep
that I pray to my Lord
with clouds of doubts
Dark within my room at night
I lie ready
to close my eyes to
everything above
and about me

But as I stare up
in my bed
I know there is a God
beyond that ceiling barrier
I know there is a God
transcending these plaster walls
I know.....
I know

December departs
Old calendar obsolete
Think: Resolutions

Who are you?
What is your story?
What makes you tick?
What are your hopes?
What are your fears?
What are your dreams?

Where have you been?
Where do you want to go?
Why do you do what you do?
So what do you have to say for yourself?
Are you like me and wonder: Who will listen to you?

I will

So please tell me

What is your story, anyway?

Isn't that why we are all gathered here together?

The moon and its beams
The stars and their light
Taking away the fright of night

Pen, silent, no tongue
Barren page waits to conceive  
Fluid thoughts wanting

Are you a friend?
Or are you a foe?
I think I like you
Well...I don't know

Different features
Different shades of skin
But we are all the same within

Different nations
Same earth
Everyone fighting for a plot of dirt

Different accents
Millions of smiles
Yet it's sad that we are separated by miles

Different, individual minds
Same desire to love
So why all this push and shove?

Different people
All kinds of shapes
But somehow we must all relate

Different? Yes
But we are all human
That is why we are the same within

The court jester
Does his mocking dance
Dressed in bells
And wild colors
Acting the fool
Sticking out his tongue at me
To ridicule and to scorn

This courtyard fool
Who calls me the fool
Is just an obnoxious reminder
Of the roads I've not taken
Or the ones that never
Should have been my path
Not able to relive yesterday
I am painfully reminded

Yes, that is how I picture
All of my regrets

"Mirror, mirror
What do you see?
Who is that
Looking back at me?"

I see a wounded warrior
Who bears the battle scars
Yet gazes upon the bountiful sky
Her eyes full of stars

"Really?
Wow!
Tell me,
What you see now!

I see a frightened girl
In the form of an adult
Her own worst critic
When it comes to her faults

"Yes, that's true!
That really is so!
Tell me,
What else do you know?"  

I know her heart is still tender
Yet firm and strong, like a drum
It beats for hope and faith
For whatever love may come

She struggles with her value
She doubts herself, no doubt
But she hasn't given up on herself
That's what courage is about

"Okay, okay!
There's too much to hear!
Why do I keep searching
For answers in this mirror?"

Well, there comes a time you have to see yourself
And then pause to behold your reflection
And then there comes another time
To stop all the self-inspection

For your reflection of who you are
Changes, coinciding with the years
And your beauty lies within
Not dictated by a mirror

"I'll take those words to heart
Without the self-condemning stare!
Acceptance is so refreshing
When looking in the mirror"

We all become dust
Dying ones will join the earth
The spirit moves on

You've heard that Michigan looks like a hand
We all come from somewhere - that's my land
Honored of where I'm from
Far along I have come
It's the Great Lake State in which I stand

The purpose of life: It's not all about you...including me

On this plant, surviving
Sometimes dying, sometimes thriving
Not always clear,
What's my next step, here
But, so far it's been a privilege

It isn't a crime to cry
So let those tears flow
If you have to go into secluded place
May the cleansing begin

Like rain upon a dusty window
Wash away the hurt
Be not ashamed
Don't feel you are being weak

You were made to laugh and to cry
And you came into this earth, an infant,
Crying before you laughed
It is no sin

Sadness?
Anger?
Loss?
Fear?

In a world that frowns
Upon non-smiling faces
Remember your humanity
And your right to feel pain

Part of the problem of letting go
                                             Is that you aren't sure what next to grab hold of
                                                              ­                                                                 ­            .......................................

I don't want to sow any weeds
There's already plenty of them in the world
They do nothing but choke out
And crowd out all that's trying to thrive
So I'll scatter some seeds here
And I'll spread some over there
Actually, anywhere and everywhere
Will do the job

Only the best will work
The quality of excellence
Seeds of Faith
Seeds of Hope
Seeds of Love
That comes from the Father
The ultimate Cultivator
The original Gardener

Some of these little life givers
Will do their task and take root
Not in the dirt but in the heart
Let your heart be fertile ground
Nurture those infant seedlings
Make way for their production  
And let them mature to size

And when they reproduce
Seeds of their own
Become a copycat
Become a seed planter, too
That's how gardens grow and spread
They fill the void with meaning
People are like plants
When continually tended to,
We can grow well and thrive
And become what we are meant to be

Courage is portrayed on the big screen as Rambo bursting onto the scene or John Wayne playing the tough cowboy that saves the day. Its displayed in all kinds of bravado like Bruce Willis in the Die Hard movie series or James Bond's physical prowess in espionage. These are typical, cinematic emblems of the ever invincible hero.

Did those men ever cry? What happened to them when they were afraid?

I once told my father, after my brother took his own life, that he should go to counseling. He had to be struggling. Like me, I know that this horrible news shook his world to the core.

"I've got to be a man. I've got to handle this on my own".  He continued to suffer in silence.

Courage may sound like a lion's roar, but I've seen courage through the unexpected--in meekness. Having boldness is asking someone for forgiveness, often years after the offense because humility feels like weakness. It's the courage to tell someone your wrong when you love being right. Most of all, it's having to admit that you're not as solid as you want to appear, and you're falling apart.  Revealing that you need help when you've done everything you did to keep the facade going, but the cracks keep popping up, shows more strength than any stiff, upper lip.

That's courage to me.

I am

You are

Unfinished business

The wolf is at the door. He's menacing, a hungry predator out for blood, out for a meal. Death and destruction are in his sights. He's looking for a way in, any weak spot that he can find. Make no mistake--he's a skilled enemy. There's no shortness of determination on his part.

So he huffs!
And he puffs!
And he'll blow my house down!
...or so he says

But I just called out his bluff

He's full of hot air,
And nothing more
I used to cower at his threats
Until I realized that our God is greater
Than an old windbag
An infamous trickster

My house isn't made of wood
My house isn't made of straw
Nothing flimsy or cheap
No, my house is built on solid rock
On the solid foundation of
God, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit

The story ends in that the wolf takes off like the coward that he is. His tail is between his legs, for he knows he couldn't stand a chance to devour and destroy my home. Try as he may, he's likely to be back, again. After all, he's a predator. But, to reiterate, my house isn't made of wood or straw, of nothing flimsy or cheap.

Is your house built on the Rock?

To each and every one that reads these words
I don't know you, but I care about you
You were made in the image of God
No matter what you've done
No matter how you feel about yourself
That doesn't seem to amount to much
Hear what I'm saying
I'm not just writing this because
It may sound profound
No, I wish to convey this with all sincerity
You were made in the image of God

In your past, something may haunt you
God can forgive, is ready and willing
You need to do your part and
Take it to the cross
Where sins have been paid for
By the blood of the Lamb
Do you believe in the Son?

To each and every one that reads these words
Perhaps, you are hurting
Perhaps, you don't feel much of anything
Perhaps, you are confused beyond comprehension
Take it to the Everlasting Father
Reach out to Him
He cares about you
He cares about me
He wants to hear from us
A vital connection in prayer
But it's up to us to reach out
For God's reach is only a prayer away
Not miles and miles and miles away
His love is vast as the ocean

Spread the message

It is a tool for battle
A symbol of saving grace
Jesus was crucified on it
And I imagine the cross,
Its portion inside the ground
As like the tip of a sword
Its sharp and spiked end
Plunged into the dirt,
Its horizontal part
As the quillon, the crossguard
Of its majestic knife

Who was on that cross
Was a Man that was pierced
His hands and feet
His head with thorns
And, lastly, right into his side
But it is he, in return,
That can pierce
And penetrate the hardest
Of men and women
With his love

I am in need
Can you spare a few bucks
From your pocket?
Money does find its way
Back around, doesn't it?

I am wanting friendship
Can you give me any
Of your time?
The clock is ticking away
But its hands haven't failed yet

Share your God-given talents
I want to be inspired
And in wonder
Those incredible gifts
That keep on giving

But you still haven't
Given it all, have you?
Well, someone already
Did that, paved the way
His name is Jesus, my friend
He laid down His life
In love for us
For we could never
Save ourselves from destruction

He healed many
He fed many,
Body and soul
He listened
He befriended
He forgave

And above all,
He died for the world
Jesus gave it all

Never lose your sense of wonder
The kid inside the adult
One who never comes
To know it all
But one who stands in awe
Of possibilities
And life to come

Still learning
Still dreaming
Still creating

Hey, fellow people
There's something on my mind
I've something to share
So I'm going to tell you
While also making it known to myself
For I'm nobody special
And I need daily reminders
I'm no less vulnerable than you

Do you know of the darkness?
Do you know of the fear?
Have you had those engulfing experiences?
Have they put a strangle hold on you?  
Stopped you dead in your tracks?
Your hope scarce?
Your life on hold?

Well, there's a satisfying solution

Where there's Light,
Darkness cannot coexist.
Where there's Faith
Fear must back away
I stand unashamed
To speak of God
My faith in Jesus
In spite of living in a world
That often scoffs
For He not only gave me life
He saved my life

There is no better cure
Than God's light
And putting my trust in Him
Soothing all my anxieties
So where now is the darkness?
Where now is the fear?
This is what it is...

It's dispeled

What is it?
Shame?

What is it?
Pain?

What is it?
An inability to forgive?
An inability to be forgiven?

What is it?

Whatever it is
It's a huge boulder
You don't need to carry it anymore
I don't need to carry it anymore
We were never meant to bear
Such a heavy weight
Such a heavy burden

So I lay it down at the foot of the cross
Casting my cares upon God
For He is a boulder crusher

That's why I write this
It speaks to me

So what about you?

Joy Destroyers:

Holding grudges

Unresolved anger

Dislike of oneself

Sense of entitlement

Quickness to judge others

Failure to see the extraordinary and the miraculous

It's a Wonderful Life (the scene at Martini's bar) 1946

"Dear Father in Heaven, I'm not a praying man, but, if you're up there and you can hear me, show me the way. I'm at the end of my rope..I... Show me the way, God."

Same movie (the scene with George Bailey on the bridge, toward the end of the film)

"Please, I want to live again! I want to live again! I want to live again! Please, God...let me live again"

How many people have been there?
Have been at the end of their rope?
Have cried out like this?
Were convinced that their life was over?
How many people felt like George Bailey?

I ask, because I've been there.

No, life is not exactly like this movie, with neat and tidy, cheerfully, heartwarming endings. Nevertheless, there were some profound themes there. Our lives do matter. We are here for a purpose other than the daily grind. A fruitful life is God's desire for all of us, and we are to come to Him in the good as well as our desperate times.

In a world that often seems so cruel and dark, we can be a light to others. We don't have to be someone special, someone that makes the news.

I don't have any books published in the bookstore, or any upon a library shelf, but I humbly write (when inspired), and I use my God-given talents. We not only can be blessed by others, but we can also be a blessing to someone else.

Nobody's life is a bad mistake.

I'm just a lowly butterfly
Crawling on the ground.
But look. Quickly!
Now I'm a magnificent butterfly
And I'm skyward bound

Cocoon disintegration
Unexpected transformation
Fascinating!

I like this new look!
Can't believe my own eyes!
A brand-new "me" with wings
Off to heights, imagined
Where gravity is defied!

Cocoon disintegration
Unexpected transformation
Fascinating!

As a fellow woman
I'm appalled by the brutality
That you are enduring
The Taliban are cruel cowards
They are trying to blot the light
From your eyes
To take the breath
From your souls
To destroy your dreams
Denying you a reason
To ever get up again
And go on

Afghan ladies and girls,
You are my heroes
You that cry in despair, in fear
Who demand to be heard
You are the true warriors
You that fight for your lives
And for your dignity
Though the so-called men
That heap abuse upon you
Try to silence your voices
And shut you out from hope
That you need in order
To blossom and flourish

Oh, their wicked ways!
Their gloat and greed!
Those hallow hearts
Define them as the villains
That they truly are
Not a legitimate leadership
Deadly and dangerous
Are accurate descriptions
That define them well

Oh, Afghan women
May you always know that
I am on your side

The womb
It's a glorious *****
A reproductive
Amazement

It was my first home
It was yours
It gave us
Exactly what we needed

We got "baking time"
Little buns developing
Being nourished and
Fully insulated
From the outside
From any of the bad
Any of the harsh elements
And the school of hard knocks
That we were not ready to receive

Rule #1

Don't write to please by writing something so above the ordinary and grandiose, yet at the same time writing something that's not even believable to yourself.

"Be yourself"

But who am I?

I might be just an act, formed early out of survival  

Maybe, I grabbed bits of this, and bits of that

Whatever role kept the wolves at bay

Throw in a pinch of people pleaser to the recipe

Pepper it up with a rebel with any cause


Did I borrow this persona?

What did I inherit?

Am I more like my mother than I'd like to admit?

Maybe I am performing

Indeed, the world is a stage

Am I curtsying to the audience?

All the world is so Hollywood now

We seem to be scenes in one movie after another

PAY NO ATTENTION TO THAT MAN BEHIND THE CURTAIN!

...Dead silence...


Uh-oh, caught

Hands up?

Okay, I surrender!

"Please, God, show me who I am"

I'm a Michigan gal
Born and bred
My family has been here
For over one hundred years
Covering one whole century
And parts of two others

I'm a Detroit native
Born there like my parents
And my mom's parents
And her paternal grandparents
But the suburbs
Are where I reside
I have lived no other way

Michigan waved at us
With its mitten-clad hand
It beckoned us in
With a welcoming gesture
Yes, Michigan did
I love where I am from                                                                  ­                  
I never, ever had
The desire to leave
Travel afar, yes
But not for long
For I know where my home is
I make no bones about it
It is right here in Michigan
And I'm proud to call it my home

My dad's parents were Lithuanian immigrants. Lithuania was the first nation to break away from the Soviet Union. That was exciting news for me in 1990. Then I thought, "How are they going to pull this off?"
Remarkably, they did and then others followed suit and broke away. Ukraine was one of them.

Oh, Ukraine
My heart bleeds for you
Wounded is the land
Broken hearts
Shattered lives
Your resilience amazes me

I'm a pupil  
Of the school
Of hard knocks
Very few aren't
Acquainted with
Such education

I just wish that I
Ended my apprenticeship
In other words,
Once a learner
I soon became
Much too skilled

I first wrote and posted this on July 2017

I have a beef with plenty of things. One of them is how self-absorbed we have become because of those **** cell phones. No, I am not a hypocrite. I own one. I cannot imagine not having a cell phone, for it comes in handy, especially when one is stuck on the road with a car that is broken down or if an emergency call comes. Though I know, from personal experience, how life was before cell phones. We survived.

I still have a flip phone. Yeah, I'm behind the times, I admit. It's just that I do not want to pay a higher bill. I got enough bills. Would I enjoy those extra bells and whistles? You bet! But like my car, I just am looking at what I need verses what I desire.  I don't want to google and go on the internet here, there and everywhere. I have plenty of internet use as it is, enough to say that I don't want to access it in a moment's notice.

So what has become of us? It used to be that the biggest enemy to being behind the wheel was intoxication. "Don't drink and drive",  a terrible problem. Now we are intoxicated on our technological toys. Texting and driving has become the new road hazard, comparable to *****.

Cell phones are everywhere, and people are on them like their lives depend on them. And do we really pay attention anymore? How about the person next to us who we may never notice? Our cell phones have invaded our need to be aware of our surroundings. It seems we are missing out on so much because of it.  

We would be lost without our precious cell phones--at least we think we would. I admit I am guilty. But sometimes, I'd just like to throw mine out the window and be free of the thing once and for all.

Postscript-added on March 2022

I now have a smart phone. I now access the internet on it all the time. New and improved?

I have to remind myself
To be aware that
Just because I'm
Having a bad day
Perhaps, having a
Rough period of life...
Pain, sadness
Confusion or anger
Whatever the struggle

Not to become
A porcupine
Not to form
Some pointy quills
For self-protection
Or preservation

I don't want
To poke or ****
Anyone who
Unknowingly
Crosses my path
Who doesn't deserve
A sharp jab

Its beauty inspires art
Well honored in song
In poetry and writing
For its marvelous self
The rose

You want to pluck it
The perfume scent
Lifted under your nose
Placed in your vase
Admiration

But those thorny stems
Like a mamma bear's claws
Prepare for a fight!
Protecting the weak
The bloom

Yes, a contradiction
Lovely and fragile
But every seeker knows
That fierce jab!
The battle

Just as the penalty
For that sweet honey
From a hive to an intruder
Is the sting of the bee
Revenge

No flower is as renowned
The gem of them all
Perhaps, they're designed
To trick us all along, being
Irresistible

Dignified
And beautiful
Ladylike
Yet capable of
Drawing blood

Oh, that paradoxical Rose!

I lost my mom in August of 2022, a very short time ago. I lost my father much further back, in January of 2005. In my fifties, I still feel like an orphan. Tongue in cheek, I say this, for I'm obviously not a kid anymore. It's still sad to lose a parent, no matter what age you are or how long of a life your parents lived. Even when you know the time is getting close, it hurts no less. Pain is pain.

I was expecting both of my parents to die, preparing myself for it. They both had dementia and were in mental and physical decline. That said, it was still a shock. To see my father with his blue eyes wide open, and my mother laid out on the floor after CPR was done. My mom attempted to get out of her hospital bed in the group home. Not in a million years would anyone expected her to end up on the floor, after not walking for four years.

They are both gone now.  They are certainly not forgotten. Memories can fade, and time has done its work on those memories where my father is concerned. Pictures are a great source to look upon to keep things more vivid.

I still want to call my mom to tell her something, for a second or so. Her death is still fresh in my mind, and has yet to fully sink in. I grieve, but I still think I haven't felt the full effects of my mom's death yet.

They didn't hear "I love you", from their parents, so my parents didn't say it to me or my brothers. Their home lives were rough, and they brought some of what was done to them into their new family.  I'm glad I was able to initiate it with my mother and keep it going. I wasn't able to keep it going with my dad. It felt awkward, at first, but children need to hear it.

Though there is much more I could relate, I'm sharing just a few words. Writing can be a tool for healing. I am thankful for it.

Dear Folks,

It's been a while since I last posted a piece of writing on here.

Though a woman, and a proud one, I feel like the tin man, all frozen up. The tin man got stopped in his tracks in the rain, rusted. What's my excuse?  

Perhaps, I thought I've said it all. Perhaps, my tears have all dried up. Perhaps, I got complacent or apathetic.

Perhaps, I was just plain scared.

Oil can, please.

The time that I decide to write to get all the "likes" and "hearts" that I can get is the day I need to not write something public at all.  I shall remind myself that I'm not writing to be trendy. I need to get it out of my head that I'm not in it for the popularity. It wouldn't be genuine to me, anyhow. I wouldn't be proud of it. The ego doesn't need to be fed, for it's never satisfied with just enough. It wants it all.

That's my concern with wanting to be trendy.