Category Archives: Uncategorized

Tomorrow (flowetry Luke 12:9)

Hold you no value for life lost?

Unthinkable act, do you count cost?

Inexcusable,

Hollywoods not real,

robbing lives in a blink,

Shot with cold steel.

There’s a whole world outside

Time to wake up.

Before nails in ‘ur coffin

Get caked up.

Shrug, “Don’t judge me”,

As time ticks ‘ur soul clock

But who’s laughing?

Kermit, a green hand sock.

It’s distraction,

Plan from enemy lines,

No excuse,

The whole earth is a remind,

The Creator left hints

In the sunset.

Knees will bow,

even those that won’t repent.

Just a warning,

The Kings on His way back,

Leading heavenly armies

On the, attack.

Judgements coming,

life’s record in real time,

Guaranteed,

Like the glare from the Son’ shine.

The American Dream

“The American Dream… you would have to be asleep to believe it.” George Carlin  

There are so many distractions in this world disguised as dreams. While we aspire to get the “dollar, dollar bills ya’ll” the world around us continues to crumble and fall. People excessively labor at their workplace metropolis dedicating exorbitant amounts of time, away from their families and loved ones, only to be paid a net amount in order to pad the pockets of politicians that could care less about “we the people” retirement  funds when theirs are garunteed for life with an added health care bonus of 100%. Entertainment continues to further push unhealthy levels of shock, awe and agenda stimulating the public’s senses to extremes of obsession, lust, greed, hatred, rage, rape and murder through a local provider at a conveniently manageable rate… “and the emmy goes to…”. Young girls have no qualms about discounting their value or showing their “goodies” to get a super-sized happy meal, and young boys describe their mothers, sisters and women in their life as dirty disgusting filth to get 5 minutes of fame on a superimposed social media outlet that really only cares about the bottom line of selfish personal gain at any cost. Pedifiles and deviants are allowed freedom to express themselves in vomitous repetition while our next generations continue to mentally strain and struggle with exploitative messages and lack of parental guidance due in part to the guise of freedom through overdosing self-worshiping, medicated behavior upon the predication that “its my time”, “its my life”. Social media is abused and formatted into some type of personal diary of everyday whining, complaining, murmuring and all out inappropriateness about the injustices recieved at the very hands that chose it. Political slander and accusations run rampid as those that were once close begin to turn on one another like rabid dogs when the outcome has already been set by those that sit back and set the tone for all the perpetuated, impending chaos while laughing at the sheer ignorance of the masses. Veterans, seniors, widows and orphans are constantly looked at as throwaways, dregs or burdens on society while untalented, vain, abusive, robots are idolized and glorified as mentors and leaders. Pretentious, snobby, self-righteous wanna-be freedom fighters consistently lash out at anyone who does not go along with exactly what they “stand for” while constantly professing and shoving down the throats of others the need, desire and lack of the very freedoms they want to take away from everyone else. The distractions are endless, careless and lifeless. The real dreams are either dead or dying.

When we realize that the American Dream has turned to no more than a facade of winning at the expense of others and the cost of our souls creating a living hell that can not even begin to compare to the real one… maybe then we will wake up.

“For what shall it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his own soul?” Mark 8:36

Don’t Be a Gracie

“I  once knew a girl named Kay, she grew up and still wanted to play, so she made up her facie, like a clown, then came Gracie, who sent Kay running out the doorway…”.

A friend of mine once told me a story. She said that she had always wanted to be a clown. She enjoyed making people happy. She wanted to bring joy to children where she had been deprived of it in her own childhood. She shared stories. Wonderful stories of laughing, smiling children standing in long lines filled with noisy, ruddy little faces of all shapes and sizes. Each little face had a shiny expression of uncontained excitement, patiently and not so patiently, awaiting their turn to see the clown. Small chubby fists tightly clenching dollar bills in anxious anticipation of being next in line to yell out their favorite color that would be magically and swiftly transformed into an animal, with a twist of the clown’s hands, from an ordinary latex balloon.

Kay the clown was amazing and colorful with a neverending smile, big floppy feet and bright red hair. A colorful satiny outfit with vivid dots of colors in red, blue, yellow, orange and green made all the children squeal with delight because it alerted them to Kay’s presence. She began to enjoy it so immensely that she not only wanted to attend public events but expand it into a personal experience by bringing it into peoples homes. One of the most popular venues for her growing business was children’s birthday parties.

Children’s birthday parties were always so much fun. Excited little faces would anxiously greet her at the door with wonder and delight. Parents would smile with sighs of relief knowing that Kay the clown was about to bring varied entertainment and distraction to their children giving them a well desired break. There were always some kids that would cry initially but when they would see all the other children participating and all the amazing things Kay could do they would be drawn into a blind state of awe mixed with curiosity. By the time the show was over and Kay was done she would be exhausted, but it was all well worth it knowing that parents and children were equally satisfied with her performance. Word of mouth would prove invaluable marketing for her clown parties. Her desire to be a clown had been fulfilled. She had built up her clown empire and had accomplished her goal of making people happy by doing so. Kay had successfully discovered her talent and had used it to bring joy to others. Life was good until one day appeared a girl named Gracie.

Gracie was an unhappy child which was made apparent by the sneer on her face and the snicker in her voice everytime she made some adultish comment. More than likely she was just a product of her home but the reality was that as a child she was  difficult, to say the least. Nothing made Gracie happy and Kay the clown, not through lack of effort, would change that.

When Gracie met Kay something invisible transpired and they were somehow connected in some universal bond that rivaled that of the Montagues and Capulets, unbeknowest to Kay. From their very first encounter Kay knew Gracie did not like her and the kid made it a point to antagonize her every chance she got. 

“You ain’t no real clown, clown!” Gracie would yell at Kay the moment she would arrive, often seperated from the other kids waiting outside at the mailbox leading up the given home’s entryway. 

“Those aren’t real clown shoes, clown!”, she would scream as she stomped heavily on Kay’s real toes with her patent leather Maryjane shoes and lace fringed socks. 

Kay would only smile and grumble under her breathe at what a rotten kid Gracie was. She could not believe that someone so small could be so mean and hateful. After about a year of Gracie run-ins it became apparent that she was not going away. It was because of so many encounters with Gracie, combined with other issue, that resulted in Kay the clown deciding that her clowning career had finally come to an end. And so she decided with a heavy heart to hang up her clown suit and pursue other talents.

We are all born with God given talent. Life throws in unexpected situations that  affect us in all sorts of emotional and spiritual ways, both negative and positive. How we deal with those obstacles become crucial to our development and will determine whether our talent is strengthened or weakened, transforming us into who we are to become. Discovering our talent, though transformative, can also be daunting. It happens when we come up against a “Gracie” shaped in the form of opposition to the goals that we are trying to acheive. Opposition can overshadow our circumstance and blind us to everything that is involved. Sometimes there is a bigger picture. We fail to realize that there is a lesson to be learned. A lesson that always begins with us.

Grace is a gift given by God even though we don’t deserve it. God gave us Jesus the Christ who died on the cross serving as an atonement for our sins. Whether we receive that grace or not does not change the fact that we can not earn our way to it, God or heaven. Life obstacles are for our benefit so that we learn to face challenges head on and work through the storm to continue developing our talents to be used for the benefit of others and God’s kingdom. When we fail to recognize that opposition is a humbling experience that ultimately strengthens us and builds up those around us in the process, we can miss out on some of life’s greatest rewards. Others are constantly watching us to see how we react to situations and our response to difficulty unintentionally affects their lives and habits. Extending grace to others can be challenging, but extremely effective. When we can see past our own self, look beyond the pain of another usually disguised as depression, anger, disrespect, or even blatant hatred, we have tapped into the very grace that God extends to us daily. Then when that obstacle shows itself through another we can look up into the beautiful blue sky and realize that through our choices we can be the difference, and that without the grace there is only Gracie.

Burnt Sausages

I woke from a dead sleep, choking. Dry, thick smoke had seeped into the back of my throat causing me to sputter and hack, gasping for the same air I usually took for granted. At first, it was a bit disorientating trying to figure out exactly where the smoke was coming from. My mind was racing with thoughts. 

For the past couple of years due to busted pipes in the master bedroom and an intense, yet non-productive struggle with an insurance claim, my husband and I had had the extreme pleasure of sleeping in the living room. Though grateful to have a roof over our heads during what can be coined as the “reconstruction period”, sleeping in the living room/dining room/kitchen, which on a ordinary basis has an awesome open plan, had now become more of a sleepless torture chamber. Clanging dishes, banging doors, (yes, adult children including grandchildren), made a good nights rest somewhat of a distant, hard to reach goal dangling just beyond the limits of our reach. Abruptly awakening to some type of crisis had become common place opposition to our sleep efforts. 

Adding to this already tedious schedule were 12-hour shifts I worked as a police dispatcher, which despite being an enlightening, eventful career, was regularly garnished with unexpected situations and consistently high alert dramas that only exacerbated my inefectual pattern. The bittersweet came when the 2-days on, 2-days off, every other weekend work calendar combined with rotating days and nights became a conglomeration of unrecognizable days and dates of the week and year. I would often times wake in a heightened state of panic thinking I had missed an alarm, only to discover that I had only just fallen asleep. There was always some interruption to my normal sleep pattern. Today would be no different.

Smoke inhalation is a tricky thing. People smoke, cigarettes for instance, all the time inhaling by choice, but when its involuntary the obvious effects can come shockingly immediate and harsh. Before smoke reaches the trachea and enters into the upper airways of the lungs it is only a matter of seconds before the mind registers the lack of oxygen. As the membrane in the trachea attempts to filter the waste from the smoke mixed in with air, the excess mucus produced is pushed away from the lungs by the cilia, the tiny hair lining, causing the sensation to cough for expulsion. When I woke up sputtering and hacking I had no idea my body was in this process trying to save my life. The foggy dreamlike state of my subconscious was still trying to assess whether the experience was real or dreamt up. As I looked around I could see a smallish trail of thick gray smoke coming from the area above the stove in the kitchen. The smell and taste of the ashen cloud  was chalky and stuck to the back of my throat like a thick coating of Teflon.

I could hear panicked muffles under the clanging of pans. Then a sudden sizzle of the water stream from the kitchen faucet causing an even thicker, darker, char-filled cloud of smoke to rise up toward the ceiling filling the room with a mushroom shape that cascaded over everything, leaving a not so subtle hint of burnt. The  stench in the room became automatically unbearable.

Through the smell in my now burning nostrils I managed to choke out a few choice phrases. 

“Wha what… happened? Is… that you… Izzy?”

I could hear concern and fear in her soft child-like voice, “I’m sorry… I only walked away for a few minutes to my room. I didn’t think that they would cook that fast…the burner was on low”. But they did cook fast. The low burner did not care that my daughter walked away for only a few minutes. The sausages, now dried out, burnt, and charcoal black could never be eaten. Fortunately, there was no fire. No one was critically hurt. We only lost a pan or some of its use, but it was savaged for the most part. Windows had to be opened and room deodorizer had to be generously sprayed, but we recovered. 

As the fresh air poured into the room and the smoke finally began to dissipate I realized something. My daughter being a teenager with limited experience had decided to cook some sausages. She left them on the stove on low never anticipating that in a “few minutes” they had the potential to burn. It was not intentional nor malicious, but yet it could have been fatal.

How many times during the course of our lives do we negate the tugging of the Holy Spirit on our souls? We equate that “low” pull on our conscience that keeps trying to insist that something in our spiritual life is not right to some small, self-pleasuring desire of the flesh that begs to be filled. We attempt to satisfy those desires with food, career, money, self-gratification or worldly pleasures that are temporary at best. We are “cooked on low” until we become impassioned, unemotional, unexcited and burnt out and have to search for some other temporary fix. 

Life is but a moment. Though we are meant to enjoy it, Christ did not intend for it to be selfishy handled and thoughtlessly viewed leaving our life “unattended” as if it happens unprovoked. Waiting for the proverbial “smoke to clear” can leave our spiritual life in danger. Only through our love and honor of the Father and by loving our neighbors as ourselves will we be able to put our life in perspective and fulfill our purpose.

Purpose can only be drawn from the God-given talents that we have been blessed with, whether that be creativity, hospitality, administration, leadership or counsel, which is given by God and developed through the power of the Holy Spirit. We must conciously submit and allow the “consuming fire” of the Spirit to transform us to our destiny. To do anything less would be like putting a sausage on a slow burn.