When my heart is in need, I go before our King on His throne. As my tears rain through the Light of Love shining down on me from His eyes, And He draws me into His healing colors, filling every empty aching space, Each droplet of tears breaks out into a myriad of colors. The patterns of color vibrate with healing warmth for each special need. My sorrow-filled eyes awaken with joy, amazed by the magnitude of this spectrum . . . Amethyst, Ruby, Emerald, Ocean Blue . . . Pearly Gates invite me into His heart.
As I rest in His tender touch, the darkness surrounding me dissolves into His Light and Life, And my senses vibrate in response to the Spirit's compassionate acceptance. I breathe in the fragrance of His essence -- new life, freedom, wholeness! I am complete in Him . . . and completely His. I begin to sing with Him, our voices blending in an intimate union of Love. I hear His desire: "My beloved, please share Me. Will you take me with you to my Children?"
Jesus and I walk away...filled to overflowing with the rainbow of His love. Once I was empty. Now I'm alive and vibrating with all that He is, His love pulsating through me, and out of me . . . to all who will receive.
by Diana and Susan
ICAN'T HELP BUT REMEMBER
Dawn Okpisz
9/15/06
As we approach 9/11...
I can't help but remember the good Samaritan
Who was hated by the Jews
Yet he stopped to save the life of someone he was supposed to hate.
I can't help but remember the Samaritan woman
Who met Jesus, a Jew
And discovered that there is a well that won't run dry.
I can't help but remember I used to think
Something was wrong with me
Because for 18 years
No matter what I did right or wrong
Someone invaded my bedroom
Night after night
To steal what should have been saved
For my husband.
I can't help but remember
How I was silenced into submission
By threat of torture
Beatings
Or even death
Watching others be tortured too
To remind me of my place
My duty
To scare me into submission.
I can't help but remember
The pain
The shame
That led me to believe I wasn't normal.
I can't help but remember
I was like a foreigner in a foreign land
Every time we moved
The people would change
The rules would change
I didn't know who to trust.
I can't help but remember my Mexican friends
I looked a little like them mid-summer
With my wavy brown hair and deep brown eyes
But my hair always had highlights
And my skin was too light
So they kept their distance
Because my grandfather said they were sinners
And we were to blame them for all our problems.
I can't help but remember the girls with straight blonde hair
And blue eyes
Playing with barbie dolls that looked just like them
Which made me think I should have blue eyes too.
But I didn't.
I can't help but remember growing up in an educated society
With a learning disability.
I was slow in Math.
I had trouble memorizing History dates.
I would hide my papers from my friends so they wouldn't see my grade.
I can't help but remember that very few people could sing like me
When I was given a solo
Nobody rejoiced.
They scorned me
Because before I moved there
Other people got to sing the solos.
They would laugh and throw pencils at me
While I was singing
In choir practice.
I can't help but remember
The one day I finally got mad.
I stood up
Looked them in the eyes
And told them to stop.
I left the room sobbing
No one came to console me.
I can't help but remember
I went home that night
My mother locked me outside
Without a coat
In the middle of winter
The night before pom squad try outs.
I practiced in the cold
But my muscles got tight from the cold
And I injured my leg.
Which left me unable to perform.
I can't help but remember
The invader came into my room again
That same night
As was tradition.
I can't help but remember the shame I felt
When northerners made fun of my accent
And called me a bigot
Because I came from the south.
I can't help but remember the shame cast on my race
Because of the Holocaust.
It was a sin to have even a drop of German in your blood.
And yet my grandfather was often mistaken for a Jew
Because of his nose
Which I wear.
I can't help but remember the Good Samaritan
Who set aside racial differences
To save someone's life
And made history
In the greatest book ever written.
I can't help but remember Hagar, Sarah's mistress
Who was shunned
And sent away
And yet God saved her son.
Hagar said; "I have seen the God who sees me."
I have met that God.
The one who sees me.
The one who takes away my shame
And washes me white as snow
And presents me to himself
As a pure and spotless bride.
The Father has adopted me as His child
I have a new daddy.
He has held me in His arms
And called me "princess"
Because He is the king.
I finally have an inheritance
That can't be taken away.
I have seen the fire in his eyes
Looked into His face
And beheld His beauty.
I know the way to the Father.
There are two kinds of people in this world.
Those who know the way to the Father
And those who need to know the way to the Father.
Can we set aside our differences?
Can we co-labor in His kingdom?
I can't help but remember that Jesus said
The harvest is plentiful
But the workers are few.
Beyond Forgiveness?
By Gordon Bailey
UK writer for Assist news Beyond Forgivness I sat and viewed in total disbelief as plane and tower exploded on my screen; could accident alone bring so much grief?, the thought that someone caused it was obscene.
And yet we know that men had planned this act, a deed they knew would massacre and maim, and so they flew the plane they had hijacked to thousands kill, with pride and not with shame.
I’d heard of inhumanity to man, its truth my senses numbed on nine eleven; appalled that any human beings can by any faith or hate become so driven.
All those of us who watched the horror live, our hearts and minds went out to those who lost a family member, how would they survive the loss, the grief? Who could repay the cost?
And now I ask, when so much time has gone, of those whose loved-ones died or suffer yet, how difficult is it to carry on when human memories cannot forget?
When everywhere, it seems, such killing thrives, and perpetrators never show remorse, but glorify their bombs, and guns, and knives; is taking our revenge the wisest course?
We claim we have a Christian heritage: see churches filled; send mission’ries abroad; we tithe; we sing; we say we do not judge; we say, above all else ‘We trust the Lord.’
‘As we forgive, forgive us when we sin,’ we say as we repeat the Christ-taught prayer; inviting God our hearts to look within. I ask – would Jesus find forgiveness there?
The commonest response? ‘You ask too much!; forgiveness is impossible for us.’ While some would claim that no-one asks for such, some others have to say ‘Well, Jesus does.’
Christ is the life which Christians try to live; if we but let Christ live we’ll know His peace; it is the love He is that He can give, and, as He loves, forgiveness brings release.
by Catherine Donaldson-Evans/TN : Aug 18, 2007 : FoxNews http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,293615,00.html
Poem: And She Called— "It's about the military service and the reason we do things. We just defend the country, no questions asked. As a family, we do it. The poem was just utmost admiration and respect for the individuals that are there. ...They've answered the country's call."
(North Carolina)—Staff Sgt. Lawrence E. Dean II, 30, is a Marine, and a poet, stationed at Cherry Point base in North Carolina. According to a FOXNews report, he writes and performs rap-style poetry using the stage name "Life."
Reporter Catherine Donaldson-Evans notes that when the YouTube video of Dean reciting the poem he wrote about defending America's freedom garnered close to 400,000 views in just two days earlier this week, he decided to reveal his identity and speak to FOXNews.com.
"It almost leaves you speechless," he said on Wednesday of the reaction to his poetry. "Just to see it affected that many people—if it made that many people think, it was worth every bit of that three minutes... How do you explain the unexplainable? It's a blessing. A lot of people that have to answer that call appreciate it. That's bigger than me."
The poem he wrote—which begins, "And she called..."—isn't about the experience of fighting a war. It's about what the armed forces do. "It's about the military service and the reason we do things. We just defend the country, no questions asked. As a family, we do it. The poem was just utmost admiration and respect for the individuals that are there. ... They've answered the country's call."
Says Donaldson-Evans: "He was compelled to write the poem about two-and-a-half years ago, he said, when his grandmother asked him one day what would make him go to war."
"The answer I can give is just, 'Because she called,'" said Dean, referring to America. "She called," Dean says in the videotaped poem as he stands before a U.S. Marine Corps crest hanging on the barracks wall. "From the bowels of Ground Zero/she sent this 911 distress signal/because she was in desperate need of a hero/and didn't have time to decipher what to call 'em/so she called 'em all her children/and said, 'I am America, and I'm calling on the land of the free'/So they answered ... /You see, someone attempted to choke the voice/of the one who gave us the right for choice/and now she was callin'/And somebody had to answer/Who was going to answer?/So they did."
"Everybody loves him," said one of his close friends in the Marines, who asked not to be identified. "He has got to be the most motivated and inspirational person I have ever met in my life. He speaks from the heart."
In you! L’Shalom Verses
in our daily exchanges do we embrace peace? establishing non-violence by actions and speech are we Mahatma Gandhi before doors are locked? should one examine inside to find peace concoct?
peace liking today and cast aside tomorrow Jesus patterned the mellow way; truly follow! maybe you can not be a Martin Luther King thereupon let your heart desire his song and sing
peace within and peace without, fruits of love’s bequest martyrs peace dies that sharer’s breathe pacific’ quests to offer peaceful answers to all points of views that an awesome peacemaker dies and lives in you!
Formerly known as 12 by 4 Free, (B L Fitzgerald's creation) will now be known as L’Shalom Verses. Hebraic in language, meaning, “To Peace, Verses.” Formula… 4 lines, with a 12 syllable count per line, 48 syllables per stanza and as many stanzas as the poet desires, a simple rhyme pattern of, aa bb with inclusive peace, inspirational, or religious contents and with the last two words of the very last stanza becoming the
It's one of two times a year when the sun crosses the equator, and the day and nights are of approximately equal length. At the autumnal equinox (Sept. 23, 2007, 5:51 A.M. EDT),
the sun appears to cross the celestial equator, from north to south; this marks the beginning of autumn in
the Northern Hemisphere. There lies a beautiful balance in the season of autumn.
Photo Credit: Jimmie S. Dorsey
"Autumn is a second spring where every leaf is a flower" Albert Camus
B L Fitzgerald, Poet/Author
No. 4 Weekly Poetry Series…September 23, 2007
Hello Everyone!
Welcome to you all! A happy and bless autumn to you.
I am happy that you have taken the time to open and read my endearing words to you. I am grateful for your time and hopefully your appreciation for my little weekly poetry series.
It is good to hear from you all. Love the emails and the encouragement. I am truly grateful for them. Thank you!
Like the autumn season and colors, today my poetry is a montage of all my seasons varied in colors and styles. I pray that the four poems I’ve enclosed will be a blessing to you and give you some insight into my inspired world, poetically. I hope you enjoy.
May you all have a wonderful week ahead and should there be storms or rains, make them your showers of blessings, that you may be perfectly balanced in Him.
Reference, James 1: 1-12
Peace, Love and Blessings, B L Fitzgerald, Poet & Author