Poverty only seems to get worse. Fighting never seems to end. Wars rage on and people forget why they began in the first place. I struggle in my own life but try to help where I can. Crime and injustice abound, yet I keep trying to make it a better world. So much seems to go wrong, will I ever see it going right? I often wonder could I have done more? Is there something else I could have done? Have I done enough?

To look for evil is not always easy. It does not always come the way you might think. The horrors of war and terror are sometimes masked and obscured. To come face to face with the darkest side of a person is to know what true evil is, but the greatest skill of evil is deception. To live the lie so well that you do not recognize it until it is too late.

I woke up this morning with a cold nose. My hair was impossible to tame. I spent most of the day chasing my own tail. Loud noises broke my concentration and made me go insane. I had to chase down the mail person. Then I saw it was sunny outside and I just wanted to lay down and take a nap. At last the work day was over and I felt like I could get a drink anywhere. I wanted to go home and get into my bed, but my friends took me out and made me howl at the moon. Now I am exhausted and my breathe is awful. I just want to curl up on the carpet and be left alone. Perhaps if I get really lucky tomorrow, someone will throw me a bone.

Hopping onto the back of a horse drawn wagon, as you watch the sun slowly set. Wrapped up in a blanket as an Autumn wind blows cold across your face. Snuggling up next to someone special as you watch the stars come out. A hoot owl calls out from down a distant hollow. The road is a little bumpy as the wagon moves along. Your nose gets itchy from straw and you sneeze. The harvest moon rises over empty fields where Pumpkins once lay. A hay ride welcomes the fall in a very special way.

You plunged a dagger into my heart and cut the cords of devotion. You pulled out the essence of our love and sliced it to pieces before me. What you did not expect is to have the tables turned on you so quickly. I have cried my tears and sewn up the wound you left inside of me. Now that I have moved on and found someone else to help me heal, the blade cuts into you, though you will not let me see it. I know the truth you try to hide as you cry alone at night. The knife that you used on my heart has now cut you to the emotional core. You found out too late that heart ache cuts both ways.

When things become to confusing and knowledge has overwhelmed you, it is then you must listen to your heart. The heart will always tell you the truth even if it is not what you want to hear. The heart knows what it wants often before we do ourselves. The heart has a clear picture of our emotions even when we do not. We must quiet ourselves often to hear it, but when we listen to what our heart say, we will find our true path and walk a safer and loving path than what our reason can choose for us.

Oh Lillies Frost White that sway gently in the Wind. They Mark a place of rest that beckons others to join them. Beneath an endless sky in a land where there is eternal day and sorrow is forgotten as all tears have gone away. The Parting was with great sorrow, but it is only for a little while. For by a Crystal River, I will soon stand and again see you smile. So hold fast and run your race, for the morning will come soon and in the peace that is called heaven will be joined again my friend

It is said that we all have our time, but in certain things time is of the essence. When contemplating what comes next in life, you should not dally or be late. In a single breathe eternity can find you. In a single heart beat all that you hold dear can end. So when deciding the path you can will take to the eternity, remember heaven can't wait my friend.

Guiltless a lamb stood before his accusers brought to the judgment-seat. He made not a sound as he was mocked and scorned he simply stood Waiting for the End. Rejected by Those whom he had helped he went quietly to his end. Upon A rugged tree the Son of God died and bore all of my sins from me.

On a barren hill surrounded by on lookers and soldiers, a rough tree was raised on a dark and gloomy day. Between two thieves, a man with out guilt was hanged for all to see. With weeping and the shedding of blood, he forgave those who persecuted him. On the old tree cut of rough lumber, he crossed me out. No more would I be written in the book of sin, but I was added to the book of life. In a moment when the most precious blood stained the wood, he crossed me out from damnation and added me to the his saints and gave me forgiveness, when he crossed me out from sin on Calvary.

I walked in sins darkness and didn't know the light. I was lost without hope and couldn't get it right. I was in a sea of forgotten people drowning in my shame. Then Jesus found me and I will never be the same. When I was lost in darkness he came to me, he called out to me and he set me free. Jesus broke the chains of sin , I was blind but now I see. In my heart I have Jesus and I will never be the same. Now I know for sure that he knows my name.

The flowers of the field are adorned in great beauty and the Sparrows want not for a seed to eat. I am of great value and yet I doubt what I cannot see. In truth all things are not my own, I only borrow them for a little while. Each sunrise and sunset is a masterpiece, we just fail to see it. All things are made ever present and all that I will require is waiting for me. From the time that I take my rest until the sun rises again, God knows my needs.

I washed my face and looked into the mirror. There I saw my reflection with an evil grin leering back at me. I don't remember having such a twisted face I thought, nor do I revel in wickedness  with such glee. The image reached through the gateway and attempted to pull me in. I fought for a moment, but then decided to take a chance. As I slipped through the looking glass into the other world, somehow things felt familiar to me. I saw the razor that cuts me and the pills that calm me. I looked at my other self and it just leered back at me. I pondered how I could relate, then I tried to touch the other me and it rippled. As it became distorted, I felt a pain in my own chest. I looked back at the mirror and saw myself once again looking at the distorted reflection as it leered back at me with an evil grin. So now I am twice as confused, did I change places with my inner self, or did my inner self change places with me?

Let me mend your wounds, let me bind your broken heart. Take my hand and I will hold you while you cry. Let us sit quietly as you share with me your pain. Let me share your burden and help you to be well again. Take my coat and my umbrella in case you are cold or it rains. Know that I am hoping for you to do well. Let me be the friend that you have wanted, let me fill a need. Let me help in any way that I can.

For no reason other than kindness, find a weary soul. Extend a helping  hand with no want for repayment of any kind. Lift up that life to a better place and set them on stable ground. Then watch them flourish and become a source of enrichment to others, through the fruit that will be born of what they have become because you took time to care.

Speak to me and give me wisdom. Show me why you feel the way you do. Let me see things from your perspective, give me insight into what you feel. I know we may not completely agree, but perhaps we can find some common ground. Sit and talk with and help me to understand.

I once lived as if there were no tomorrow. I didn't care what I did. I thought this moment was all that there was. I was lost and foolish, I could not see the truth. I was without hope as so many are. I struggled to find the answers to a burning question I had inside. Nothing I tried would could give me peace. It wasn't until I one day found Jesus, that I finally was given rest. I came to know the truth. I was broken and couldn't fix myself, I had to empty out my soul. In a moment of utter shame, my sins were lifted away. That was the day he pardoned me.

Weeks of planning are coming to fruition. A vision of loveliness waits in the bride chamber. Caterers and florist, musicians and maids of honor all come together to make this moment special. The guest are seated in order of importance and the groom waits with his best men. The brides maids in their unflattering dresses, wait to escort the princess for a day to her betrothed. The music begins to play and chaste flower girls in small white reflections of the bride come forward with baskets of flower petals. The stage is set for a marriage made somewhere. The room rises as the starlet makes her appearance, such a sight to behold. Mean while the groom takes one more quick nip form a bottle hidden in his coat pocket. This is it here comes the bride.

A silly laugh and a toothless smile with sparkling green eyes. A selfless spirit and dark brown hair. His face lights up at the silliest things. Since you have been away, I depend on him more each day. Such a little man to bear such a big responsibility. Your picture sits on the mantle, he looks at it and says daddy. He recognizes you in your uniform. When we walk down the street, he points at anyone we meet who is dressed like you. I know why you had to go, but I still don't understand why you didn't come back. Each day I pray to God for his strength and I find more of you in our son. So for now I will go on, knowing that a part of you is always with me. He reminds me of you all of the time and that is both a blessing and a curse, since I know I will never hold you again.

She was going from table to table passing out beers in a bar. I was feeling lost and empty with not much else to lose. She walked over to where I was in a short skirt and high heel shoes. She had on glittery makeup and lipstick as red as blood. She asked what my poison was and I said something strong. She swayed back over to me well the glass full a snake bite, as I tasted it I asked her name. She pointed to the tattoo on her neck and I knew I would never be the same. Sim is what it said

When you feel that your past cannot be forgotten and the shame of it brings you down. God does not remember the things that were covered, he only sees the blood. When you stumble and fall and think how can I come back again. If you repent for what you have done, he only sees the blood. When others persecute you and question all you believe, hold fast to his mercy for he only sees the blood. What was past has been washed away, and will be remembered by God no more. For all of your sins are forgiven when you seek his mercy, for he only sees Christ blood.

When the sea rages and the night wind blows oh so cold. The master waits for you to come and call. On the water he walked to meet his disciples. In the hold of the ship he lay fast asleep. When they feared they would perish, their souls he did keep. He spoke to the wind and the raging storm. Then the sun did shine and there was a great calm. No matter what you are going through or how the tempest tosses you to and froe. Know that he is there in the storm with you.

The wreath on the door is black this year, the lights have all been turned off and there is not a lot of cheer. The message came on December 3rd. All of the presents have been put away and everyone has heard. We are going to the airport to pick him up and to bring him home one last time. He stood up for what he believed and now his work is done. His mother will be going to see him all dressed in black. She knows he won't mind it much, she is just glad he is coming back. At Christmas dinner there will be an empty plate. A folded flag will be sitting in his place. The mood will be somber as everyone gathers to eat. All will feel sorrow at the empty seat. The twenty gun still echo from when he was laid to rest. A solider won't be home for Christmas and he will be sorely missed.

With hair like the wings of night and skin as soft as a summer wind, the beauty of the child of the east is hidden beneath a veil. Oh how your cruel master despises your delicate form. You are layered in garments as though you mourn for your own creation, yet each small detail reveals beauty that no tyranny can hide. Despite the cruelty of your master, your cheek shows the strength of your face and your eyes the deepness of your caring. With hands hardened by your labors yet softened to care for a stranger or a child, your radiance shines forth like the morning sun and you blossom from beneath the covering of your imprisonment like a rare desert rose after the coming of rain to the empty and dry earth of your oppression.

Men sit in silence as they surround a metal box. The roar of the engines is all that can be heard. A flag drapes the coffin upon which sits a simple emblem, elite special forces. What he did is known only to a few, it may be 50 years or never before we all know the truth. Men who choose a different path now reflect on what has been done. One of their own has paid the price, a hero that will remain unsung. His family will receive a letter and a medal posthumously. Some will know he died a hero, but silence is their creed. Many could have gone a different path, they could have been an athlete.  Instead they heard a higher call, one that most will never understand. Suffering the rigors of training that few will ever see, they work to achieve excellence, to take their place among the elite. The best our country has to offer, they go off to fight in wars. In places that we have never heard of, against enemies that we may never know. Knowing each mission could be their last, and that the flag draped coffin could be all that they get as a reward. The hidden heroes of Americas special forces, do what must be done, so that we can live in peace in the land that we call our home.

To each of us there is a refuge, for each of us there is a safe harbor. To others it is not always obvious, but in a quiet place we find comfort. To some it may be faith, to others a good book. To some their labors for the good of others is a gateway to peace, while others may seek to do nothing but reflect on their inner selves. What ever your refuge, each of us has a place where we find hidden solace from our troubles.

Wrapped up in blankets on a cold and rainy day, I open a good book and hold hot coco. I get lost in the pages of another world than the one I am in. I travel to distant places and undertake amazing adventures, all of the while the rain falls outside and the dark clouds hide the sun. I am content hiding away in a cozy get away of my own design.

Eyes like mysterious pools that show your reflection yet hide a secret. A vision sits behind a flower who's petals cannot compare to her beauty. The Rose does not do justice to her complexion as she cause the flower to blush. What treasure lies with in the soul of this mystery of a person. Why is she hiding behind a Rose?

I put on airs and comb my hair. I dress to impress and speak so eloquently. I practice my smile for hours and keep up with the latest styles. I know all of the latest trends and I can listen to nothing intently for hours. I project the perfect appearance of what the world calls success, yet I feel no happiness, no only self pity and regret. Though I have put on the outer shell of what I think will make me happy, the truth is I am only hiding from myself.

When we have fallen and can't seem to get back up. Perhaps kneeling is where we need to be. Despite our feelings that we have really messed up, there is still grace for you and me. God does not close his door to those who truly seek him. We are human and many mistakes we will make. We are the ones who deny him and refuse to accept his gifts, of forgiveness and redemption. So when we walk away from God, he weeps for our troubled soul. Though we might be miles away, his grace does not end.

No matter the circumstance, I am on solid ground. No matter how the storm rages, I shall be safe and secure. Despite what others think of me, I will stay on the narrow road. When life is turned upside down by the turmoil of the world, I will find comfort in his words. Even when the end comes upon me, I will rest assured that his grace is all I need.

I have cried the tears of disappointment. I have wept through the long night. I have been wounded and I carry the scars. Through all of the anguish, your hand has been with me. Even when I thought I was alone, I was being guided by the unseen love that you feel for me. Now after the long journey, I have come through to the other side. The burdens have been lifted and the pain is fading. I see the new day dawning and now I realize what true love is. For despite my mistakes, you have been faithful. You kept your promises and did not forsake me. Always you were present with loving kindness and the strength of the nail scared hands.

The landscape may seem serene but the wounds have just been scarred over. The truth lies just beneath the surface and is still divisive. Though new generations come along, people still feel unsettled. The lessons of the past are ignored by some and the old hatreds fester like a disease. Until we cut away the rancid flesh of hatred from the present and truly embrace the lessons of the past. The old scars will never truly heal.

Breathe deep and hold it fast. Sit in total silence for a moment. Listen to your heart beat then release and let your soul fill again. Life starts back and the heart settles from racing. In that single moment you ended and started again. Hold your breath, and just listen.

Clank the glasses and crack the goblets, let the yule tide ring. Fill the decanter with ale and let the holidays begin. Cheer from the bottle, cheer by the glass. The cheer for the new year, but the tab comes due to fast. With the ringing of Christmas bells, oh how my head will ache. On new years day with football cheers, my celebration was a big mistake. Perhaps instead of bottled spirits to bring me good cheer. I will settle for some Ginger ale and a couple of aspirin this year.

Wrapped in satin and lace, covered in perfume. A vision of beauty so desirous. Walking across the floor in her flowing gown. A vision of a goddess that would turn any man to sin. She moves close and pulls you into her arms. She sighs as your hold her tight, you feel a ribbon tied at her back as she whispers into your ear that you can unwrap your gift if you like. Your heart beats and your mind goes blank as the lights go low. You are taken to places that not just anyone can go, with a special holiday delight.

Watching children smile and laugh. Seeing mothers cry at the relief for another year has past. Watching family join hands in prayer. Telling those you love that you still care. Holding on to traditions passed down through the years. Starting new ones with new family and friends. All in thanks giving we share, holiday joy with each other, and let the world know that love is still there.

Hearts torn into pieces and emotions scattered asunder. The path lays strewn with shattered dreams. Crystal chandeliers light the way to glamor and fame, only to leave you cold from the light that is cast but that gives no warmth. Bits of people scream from the sides of the path that is filled with holes and sharp stones. Lives that were ripped to shreds when they fell apart on the way to the star of glory lay all around as the voices repeat the same thing. Beware of lofty dreams and take care for your heart. Love is a luxury and friendship is a rare commodity that is often traded for perceived happiness and worldly things. So is the way of life in the land of dreams, Hollywood where all that glitters is not gold and you are just one step away from losing it all.

Living on the street, crouching under a bridge to stay dry. Looking through trash cans for what others have left behind. No one to call nor anyone to care. Does anyone even know that I am here. My shoes have holes in them I can never get enough sleep. My clothes haven't been washed in a month and I have no appointments to keep. Shuffled from one part of town to the next, no one seems to care. If I were gone I wouldn't be missed. I walk through society, I am an illusion. People see me but to them I am invisible. I never asked to be this way, it just happened one day. I woke up and I had no one to care and no place to stay. It could happen to anyone, yes even you. If the circumstances are right you could wake up and see, how  your world has been taken from you and you are now like me, homeless.

From the mountains of Afghanistan to a over pass at HWY 21 how did I fall so far. I used to be with my comrades on patrol, now I just shiver from the cold. The cars thundering overhead remind me of the sound of the bombs. I try to forget them with something cheap and strong. Lying on the cold concrete I wonder if I can make it another day. The promises that were made to me, have been broken and there is no help on the way. I gave all for my country and now the politicians have nothing to give to me. I cry in silence homeless and alone.

All that I own is in a plastic garbage bag. I walk in the cold until I can find a place to sleep. Trash cans are often where I find my next meal. I find it hard to keep track of the day. I see joyful people going about their business. Shopping and having a good time. While I just blend into the background, unnoticed and left behind. I never wanted it to be like this, I once was like everyone else. I just lost my way and now I wander the streets, homeless for the holidays again.

I see a new day before me. I see an opportunity for good things. I can choose good or bad  the decision is mine. So my choices now will affect my tomorrow. Let me do right and not wrong. Let me be a hope for today.

In the news of the day, all that we see is misery. No stories of hope can be found. Let us take each day and do some good for another. Let our children see our kindness and not our distress. Walk in faith with discipline. Give kindness instead of retribution. See justice instead of vengeance. Show that there are other ways to live than hate and intolerance. Instill the lessons of acceptance and compassion. Bring forth children in a right way and they shall use it as a foundation to be a hope for tomorrow.

Iron and Steel rust and buckle. Stone weathers and is worn away. Mountains crack and crumble into pebbles in a stream. Yet a single strand of hope is stronger than them all. While time can diminish many durable things, it has no affect on hope. Where hope exist in the smallest thread, it can be stronger than all of these and so much more. Hope binds people together and gives a reason to go on. It is a solid foundation that does not weather and can withstand the fiercest storm. So when all other things are faded, hope is a strong thread that can ever remain.

I sit in the corner of my bed room, my stomach aches because I haven't eaten. I want to go out and play, but mommy says it is not safe. I see the light coming through my window and listen to the cars passing by. I hear my mommie crying in her room and I do not know why. My clothes are laid out for school tomorrow they are a bit torn and wrinkled. The other kids make fun of me, but I do not know what to say to them. I want to go to school so bad, it is where I get to eat. I lay down on the cold floor in the corner and try to quietly cry myself to sleep. Every day I pass tall shining buildings and I dream that someday I can visit one of them and see what it is like to live inside, but for now I know only hunger and the sound of my mommies tears. I wonder if anyone out there can hear her cry or if anyone even really cares.

Water brought to a boil in a ceramic ***. A few tea bags into the boiling liquid. Spearmint, or Earl Grey, which ever you like. Green tea if you prefer but with a bit of a bitter after taste. Best served on a cold day, but suitable anytime when company happens by. A bit of honey for flavor or sugar if you must. Lemon if you choose, or Peppermint leaves for a little twist. A comfort to think of and to warm the soul. A conversation stater and a light refreshment with a scone. A versatile beverage if there ever was one.

Flowers bloom in Vivid bouquets of color. They turn and follow the Sun with precise Direction. As morning comes they open reaching out for Golden rays of Summer light. Then a good Breeze comes along and they blow out the ghastly essence. Pollen bombs my senses and I am thrown into a congestion hell. Trees put on green leaves and Sprout young blossoms, I'm dusted with a ******* and forced to endure great pain. Oh that my suffering could end and I could see winter again.

Piece by piece the foundation crumbles. The decades pass and the infrastructure withers. The kind hearted and sympathetic love to spend other peoples money, it is all free, don't worry about the cost. Then as the fortunes change and the money vanishes, the helping hand goes away. In it's wake poverty and want remain. Decay lies everywhere and the foundation of self reliance is replaced by fear and ignorance. People have lost their initiative and only think of themselves, while the sit idly by and wait on government to take care of them. Some that can move on, flee to greener pastures to leech off of another system. The ones who can't are left to wallow in the squallier, as those who told them it would last forever, fiddle as the cities burn.

What can I do to help? How can I give aid to another? Can I do some great thing or will something small be enough? In being of service to another, there is no real answer. The need defines the act of service. Some kindness is simple, while other acts will need to be a commitment. It should only be known that to serve is to show our humanity for one another and is the answer to solving many problems that we face everyday.

Everywhere I turn there is endless need. It overwhelms your senses it can bring you to your knees. The weight of all the clamoring voices can be deafening.  Perhaps the best way to help is to simply take someone's hand. Speak quietly and say help me understand. Find out how can help and simply fill that need. Then ask the person you helped to do the same. Pass kindness along one good deed at a time. If we all do this then I think we will all be just fine.