Jasmine fills the air as rough cobble stones freeze bare feet. Giggles become contagious like some mysterious spell cast over a gaggle of girls. Ivy covers walls and Spanish moss hangs from trees. Mystery and history blend as the air is thick with the morning mist. Dew wets the earth and makes your hair frizzy and stand on end. The sound of distant music twangs from a park bench as someone tunes a banjo. Life moves in two directions as time seems to stand still then jump backwards. Old cemeteries mark the landscape between million dollar homes. The accent of the local flavors mix it all together like a brisk Mint Julep. A distant whistle blast from a ship that should be in the past as it sails on a river where children dip cane poles in the water hoping to catch a catfish. A portrait is painted of life in a vibrant yet unchanging Louisiana town.

There is a storm and the whiteout conditions blind the news. Arms raised in solidarity they march on. Into a frenzy they whip themselves. Ignoring life with youthful exuberance, the puppets dance for their political Masters. Thinking that they're accomplishing something, they jump into the water as Lemmings often do. One after another they are immersed in a place too deep to swim. Then all of a sudden the narrative has changed and their benefactors decide to go somewhere else. Now the youthful invigorated movement is falling apart and another year has passed. In the new cycle a week is an eternity and getting older can be a death curse. Now they must face the reality that they are no longer in school and there's no direction for their leaders have left them. So they fly all about grasping at air in hopes of grabbing hold of something with meaning. Then in Dyer depression they sink down into the Quagmire of life and slowly drip into adulthood as they face the cruelty and reality of the world.

How could he do this, wasn't I enough she screams at the mirror as she is cutting up his stuff. The scissors are just the beginning as she snips and cuts. Soon he will know that he can't pay enough. She logs on to his computer and goes to his Facebook page. She makes public all of his post and photos to anyone who wants to see, with the exception of the ones that feature her you see. She opens up his email and cancels all of his credit cards. She says I am feeling better, but that's just a good start. She up loads some photos from when he said he was sick, she sends them to his boss and mother they are of his vacation in Cancun highlighted with a caption feeling better soon. Feeling like she's done all she can do at home, she packs up off her clothes and his emergency money and then she is gone. She moves in with one of her girlfriends and then she takes her out,they buy brand new outfits and get all decked out. Manicures and pedicures a new pair of shoes will be just fine. They're both going out partying on his dime. At a club where things are pumping and then music blares real loud she finds a new muscular boyfriend and the two of them wow the crowd. With photos and a YouTube video all of this may seem insane but Then she sends him a link to her social postings, he'll see she knows how to play the Revenge game.

On the first, the world was forever changed. On the first day, God exalted his name. On the first day all things were made new. On the first day of salvation, eternal life was offered to me and you. On the first day the stone was rolled away. On the first day Christ rose from the grave.

Baseball games have been replaced with a smart phone. Arguments are not settled with a dare but with a 9mm at school. The government is going to take care of it. So the father is not needed in the home. All we see on t.v. is the thing that is imitated in the streets and rebroadcast on the 6 pm news. Likes and hits have replaced true friends. The grownups have crawled into a pill bottle and let someone else deal with their problems. A child must be given everything but the one thing they need. Then when our baby goes off of the deep end, we try to blame society. The politicians say it is the objects that did this, the kid is not at fault. Let's give them a pill and it will solve everything. So the cycle repeats itself generation upon generation. Our children have lost their identity and are not sure who they are. Finally we sit down and look at a photo and do a hash tag for what we have lost. When the answer is simple enough, all we need is a mirror to answer the question where have are children gone?

No grave stones were erected. No names were given out. The war has ravaged millions and there has never been a shot heard. One by one the victims are slaughtered and the mothers do not always grieve. Some simply say I am glad it is over and walk away relieved. Yet there is a record of all who were not begotten. In Gods kingdom they are written down, the souls of the abort children that God has not forgotten. Each one he truly knows by name. They sit about his throne waiting for that faithful day, when the one who did not want them and the one who took their life will stand before the father and give account for the decisions made.  No one can say how they will stand when the unknown souls are finally named.

After three days of sorrow, the clouds rolled away. The new day had come and the air was quiet and still. Then the earth was shattered by  a violent quake as all of creation stood in witness. The door to hell was opened and death was cast away. It was a new morning for salvation when Christ rose from the grave.