Turning 70

For you formed my inward parts;
    you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.
Praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
    my soul knows it very well. psalm 139:13, 14.

This last sunset of my 6th decade has left me pondering my life. The consistent thread in my life has sewn a beautiful tapestry of life’s many different colors and stitches. Like every other human being on earth I have known tragedy and triump. I have sorrows that scar my heart but I have great love which heals my heart. I have had illnesses, chronic pain with many moments of healing and reprieve.
I have known great gain and loss. I caused most of my own heart ache so I blame no one but myself. To sum it up, I journey just like millions of others. So here now is my testament in 70 years there has never and I mean never in my life when I cried out to God and he was there for me. Upon hearing the voice of The Good Shepherd every time I stumble. He, Jesus, has been here with me and for me without fail. I know His voice!

So here I go…
Heading out this morning, into the sun
Riding on the diamond waves, little darlin’ one
Warm wind caress her, her lover it seems
Oh Annie, dreamboat Annie
Ship of dreams
Oh Annie, dreamboat Annie
Little ship of dreams

High School Fiction

These high school halls are not hallowed halls but they are unsurpassed in the scheme of life lessons….Truth and Fiction …

Remember that boy with the unfortunate eyebrows hurrying down the hall as if afraid or embarrassed? He was.

Remember that girl passing a note to her “steady” guy declaring her undying devotion because he said he “loved” her? He did not.

Remember when you thought a certain friend’s family seemed so perfect? They were not.

The stereo- types still linger in these tales of fiction. Fifty years later and I can name them all by heart.

We all wanted to be (well most of us) to be prettier, cuter, thinner, funnier, taller, shorter, darker, lighter, a better singer, a better dancer, the beauty queen, the sports star, the math genius, or the valedictorian.

I guess it is like the “Breakfast Club” and the “Big Chill” movie all rolled up together. (we did have the best music though). I always felt like the adults in my days of high school tried to minimize the harshness of the unspoken boundaries. There are many people that I admired from afar and would have like to have known better but there was also a nagging burden of exposure.

Ends up that about ninety-nine percent of High School Fiction left some of us hurt and even wounded and that is where reality steps in. No, we had not yet let our tender souls relax in the discovery zone of finding there is no such thing as perfect. How could we know that what lay ahead would require a lot more truth and a little less comparison?

Just saying…

Riding on the Wing of a Plane

Blackbird screaming in the top of a tree, the Sun goes passing by.

A full moon shines at the crossing in the road exposing all the lies.

Good girl hiding in the alley in the night, she’s praying no one sees.

Looking for love in the darkness, now alone, it’ll bring you to your knees.

Our children are riding on the wing of a plane, the want to try to die.

Looking for peace from pain in their lives, they’d rather crash then try.

Poor boy in hell at the top of a bridge, he’s praying he can flying.

He’s looking for love in the water down below, it wasn’t in his daddy’s eyes.

Can this bring us around or does history say we lose,?

Does the Cross mean no one goes to Hell or do we have to choose?

Hope for today and tomorrow in not gone, nor does it fall asleep.

Jesus is waiting for us to seek His face and only there will we find peace.

At Street Level

at street level, the life of faith is always a matter of Trust. I am always reminded of this when I look around in a world I barely recognize. I desire Truth in my soul just like I need air to breathe.

…what is the power of this longing that this world cannot satisfly? It is the longing God placed in us for “paradise complete” and the “not yet”.

…at street level, the life of faith is always a matter of Trust.

“For we live by faith, not by sight.”

2 Corinthians 5:7

Daily there are new hits

ancient antique armor armour

Photo by Maria Pop on Pexels.com

Daily there are new hits.

The death toll rising and no place to sit,

at the table of commerce there is hunger and doubt.

Some will be let in but so many left out.

 

So  a new reality is here.

In whom will I trust and whom will I fear?

Will people be kind and help stop the bleeding?

My country is dying and my soul is grieving.

 

Decency and kindness are being crucified!

No one tells the truth, the media is all lies!

My soul is crying in the long dark night!

Deliver us oh God with your Holy light!

 

Never let it be said of this patriot here,

that she ever gave up her country so dear!

Let her be remembered as a woman who prayed,

“In God we trust until the end of days!”

 

 

 

Get the Kill Shot (based on a true story)

man in camouflage army uniform holding rifle

Photo by Kony Xyzx

 

She has been hiding here for almost three days…she is basically lying in a sewer. The smell and wetness don’t affect her anymore. To get the shot she must not move. The target is hiding out in a bombed out building. She didn’t eat, barely sipped enough water to stay alive and wore basically a diaper for urine. She has had very little solid food in her so her bowels did not move…she stayed hydrated and that is key but if the shot took much longer she would inevitably grow weaker. One time she stayed in a position for six days…recovery was rough. She would need intravenous fluids after this and a push of vitamins and electrolytes as well but she knew her body and she knew her window of time and the clock was running.
She is well camouflaged by a versatile cape that also provided some protection from rain and dampness. Her small frame is every inch muscle. She is tall and lean. Her rifle is wrapped in strips of burlap and tied down with yarn to ensure no reflection from the sun. To be a good sniper you simply must have common sense. It is a matter of fact. What is the distance to the target? How will gravity influence the bullet across its travel distance? What are the wind conditions? Is the target moving? Is the target getting too comfortable with his hiding place and becoming less vigilant? If the target is moving, how fast is his speed? Most people believe being a good sniper is all about control and having the best rifle but she begged to differ. She believed it all came down to what she believed about herself, about what she knows she is capable of, and what she is willing to do to get “the shot” the first time. She does “know” her rifle intimately however. It is like a part of her body. She knows the rifles scope like she knows her husband. She is precise about everything. Being the best sniper involves making decisions in the split of a millisecond and knowing it is the right decision without question. She is able to slow her mind. She thinks “I am one with this sewer, I am sound. By the time you hear it and try to process it, it’s too late because I am already gone.”
Yes she is a woman. She is a soldier. She is a Special Forces soldier. She is here to serve her country. She does not worry about PTSD or being raped by anyone. Those are the only subjects most of the world like to talk about when it comes to women in the military. She has never been disrespected by male soldiers and she has never disrespected a male soldier. Her calling is to be the best soldier she can be and she is a good one. She is an even better sniper. She will not hesitate to kill the enemy. She does not count her kills but she has never regretted even one of them. She has saved the lives of hundreds of soldiers by doing her job and being the best. She is a daughter, sister, wife, and mother. She is a woman. She is brave and she is one of the elite in her field. She is part of a controversy, not by her choice, in America regarding women in the military but she will carry on because her country needs her. She is paving the way for other smart determined women soldiers. She has counted the cost and is willing to pay the cost. She is an American hero…ahhh, here is the moment, the millisecond has arrived, and she takes the shot…it is done.

The end of this war will bring no comfort…

shallow photography of usa flag

Photo by Sawyer Sutton 

 

This polarizing political war will soon be over they say

I cannot see how that End will bring comfort in any way

For by that End our country and its people are shred

Our values and Constitution covered in bloodshed.

 

The ruin of our people lay amidst  hatred and untruth

Every one must win and be right no matter it’s use

These illnesses cannot be conquered by the grave

Unless we turn to the only One who saves.

 

 

 

 

 

Two Angels in Sodom

abstract angelic art blast

Photo by Sebastian Voortman

 

From the purity of Heaven’s halls

to the famous hedonism of Sodom

Two Angels obey The Master’s call…

The earth heaves and groans in it’s underbelly

hail fire scorches, giant stones demolish the walls!

 

Two Angels in Sodom save the only Remnant known

those who remain yours Oh Lord God

In the midst of unholy abomination

The Holy One will restore the Glory of His Name

Two Angels in America prepare for our rescue!

“I got my meanness from the gutter and my kindness from God…

people-peoples-homeless-male.jpg

He said, “I get my meanness from the gutter and I get my kindness from God.” I sat down under the bridge with him and I said, “I think I could say the same.” He looked at me square in the eyes and I could see he was surprised by my response. He said, “You don’t look like you know much about the gutter.”

I smiled and said “looks can be deceiving don’t ya know?” Then he laughed. The sound of his laughter was one that made me smile. His laughter was like a nine month old baby’s belly laugh. The kind of laughter where nothing is held back and a sweetness of joy rings from it. I told him I had not laughed like that in ages and he said, “Oh you can only laugh like that when Fury and Thunder have cracked your soul and all the dark places have been opened up and cleaned out and all the pieces are strewn about and you cannot put them back together by yourself. I call it reconcilable purity. This laughter only occurs when you have lost your life to save it and when you were first but now you are last…”

I sat there in sober silence but something inside of me begin to tremble. “Who are you?” I whispered. He said, “I am just an old man who has been given a new heart and all day long I just like to go around and give my heart and life away to whoever might need it for a minute or two so that they can go about their day with some pure laughter…” The gorged veined, brown spotted hands palmed my face and the old man looked me in the eye and he said, “Go and be, not do. Go laugh and cry. Go and give your life away for someone else and you will see. You will laugh the laugh of “reconcilable purity.”