Black and white, day and night,
The city suffers, yearning for light
hundreds are dead, it doesn't seem logical,
One has to wonder how is it possible
The powder keg of racial prejudice,
Creates explosions destroying the best of us,
Fortunately, the dawn would end this time of fright,
A world tired of darkness, yearning for light
Hearts capable of evil, and mortal sin,
A new light would form in the hearts of men
The answer is in the goodness of God that weaves all
Yes, indeed, the future is bright, hope has put beauty in myopic sight,
Hope is the power that drives us on, hope is the beauty of the yearning light.

As I sat there praying on my knees.
I thought of what Jesus did for me.
How he shed his blood on calvary
So that satan's shackles on man would be broken free.
How could someone so powerful and perfect,
Have so much love and compassion for the unworthy?

This is the love I want to share with others
He said "delight in giving to one another,"
“be quick to forgive"
So I lift my hands in joy for what Jesus did.
his love hung for hours on a tree
so that people all over the world could be set free.
That, my friend, is what Jesus did for me.

Christmas is here!
What a beautiful day!
Capture the spirit of love
and giving from each and every person,  
in each and every way.
Celebrate Christ and all of his glory,
and continue to share his wonderful story.

Merry Christmas to all!!

He picked up his last check and proceeded out the building into the cold winter snow.  
Each footprint shaped like the tears streaming down his rough beard. Snowflake after snowflake each touching him with a cold flame, melting away the emotional armour revealing a little boy.
Entering the 96’ camry he starts the ignition, as the car slowly chokes out the cold air…
He sits there…
staring out the windshield, as the night incarcerates him.
Entering a mental Interrogation where there is no good or bad cop, just a man asking himself
“Why me?”
“Why now?”
“How am I supposed to…?”
“What I am I supposed to…?”

He strikes the steering wheel like hammer and nail.

Mouth silent, eyes screaming…

Minutes down the slushy road he arrives at the one story home. Approaches the small black door,  opens it and is tackled by four warm children.  
Each building back new pieces of armour within him. Their smiles and laughter freed him from the cold dark imprisonment into the new flickering flame of faith and freedom.

If only they could see his
worried thoughts
and beneath his eyes,
eyes that only revealed a good time...

If only they could see a man's cry.

A person's trust is worth more than riches or fame.

How exquisite was her shape
How flawless her form
Only on special occasions should such beauty be worn.
Every millimeter within her frame enhanced my view of God's wonderful creation
From the baby blue earth sky and the forest green of nature, to every long and frustrating paper I had to write.
She was there... captivating and processing every image from the back of my brain.
That was until I broke my precious frames.

I came only to watch one person eyes open and peeled.
The Blonde Bombshell was her name and O, what power did she wield!
One look and the explosion of her beauty could soften any heart of steel.
I knew nothing of softball besides the name,
but the blonde pitcher inspired me to change my game.
As I watched she seemed nervous on the softball mound.
Her first few pitches practically never left the ground.
The game continued and she pitched better in each inning.
Each throw as beautiful as she was and secured her team in winning.
She looked more confident as she began to smile.
Sending each batter back to the bench crying like a child.
As I prepared to leave I waved my farewell.
To a blonde beauty who looked and pitched exceptionally and gracefully well.