Writing to God: Lift up a need for healing

To My Healer

God thank You that You are my Healer.

Nothing is too difficult for you, in fact,

miracles are Your specialty. You showed

that in Christ when he walked the earth.

So Heavenly Father, Heavenly Healer,

please, heal my body from head to toe,

and, please, do the same for all I know.

And I lift up the entire world to You,

especially children who have been abused

or are living in poverty, young mothers

who have too great of a load to bear,

those afflicted with disease: cancer,

diabetes, etc. Lord, I cry out for You

to touch us with Your healing power.

But most of all, open our spiritual eyes

and ears and heal our hearts and souls.

Make us whole and ready for eternity.

Poetic Bloomings: Alliterisen and PA prompt: something small

Powerful Puny Package 

Whispered or shouted it’s most manageable.

It’s not only small but brilliantly intangible.

When entered into humble human ears,

it can produce changes and calm ferocious fears.

And floating up to God’s gracious heart,

on the impossible, it can give you a sound start.

The famous, fabulous four-letter word, “Help!”

Words With Friend Wordle

Facing Ghosts

 She stood there, feeling old and worn,

like the castle before her.

She eyed the southernmost turret.

She used to be a part of this world.

She started humming so as not to emit
a groan at the memories.

She was among friends now

standing along the moat, bunchy,

like the Bells of Ireland growing along water’s edge.

Lighthearted deals were going on around her

as her traveling companions discussed plans.

She wished she could hire a driver and leave this place.

But she would have to bear it a little longer.

Her plate was full, her bed made, there was no exit.

She had agreed to this twelve-day tour.

It had sounded like a good idea at the time

to show them the lands where she grew up.

She wouldn’t take them to the turret.

She wouldn’t tell them what went on up there.

“Are you ready to show us your childhood home?”
She smiled at her friend, “Yes, I’m ready.”

Writing to God

Holy, Holy, Holy! 

Lord, I sit here at the kitchen table amazed

when I think of this scene in heaven

depicted in Revelation 4:1-11.

All the wonders and mysteries

All the light, vibrant colors and beauty

Life on earth is merely a blip on the radar.

A shadow

A wisp

It's nothing compared to eternity in heaven.

God, help me be the woman You want me to be.

Show me how I fit into all of this.

I will dare to believe that, despite my faults and shortcomings and sin,

You have something great planned for me

here on earth and in heaven.

I know You’ve given me a special gift with my writing and poetry,

but I also know if You want to use something else, You can.

But I’m a little excited about the possibilities.

I just pray that You gift me to express Your truths,

Your character, Your love, Your intentions.

You are worthy to be praised.

I pray that everything in me,

Everything that I think, say, write, paint, sing and do

will join in the chorus of the 24 elders,

“Holy, holy, holy

is the Lord God Almighty,

who was, and is, and is to come.

¹¹ “You are worthy, our Lord and God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
and by your will they were created
and have their being.”

My Journey

At times a mountain

A vertical climb

Obstacles along the way

Enduring harsh temperatures
Determined

 At times a showboat

Enjoying the ride
Watching live entertainment
Leaving driving to others
No control

At times a schoolroom

Listening, learning
Preparing for influence
Making friends, growing, training
Limitless

At times a garden

Hard work, diligence
Tilling the earth, planting seeds
Sunshine, fresh air, pulling weeds
Abundance

At times a wedding

Eyes of tenderness
Pledging love and commitment
Promising joys through sorrow
Company

At times a poem

Small expressing big
Capturing, declaring essence
Finding God in the details
Manifest

Through the Year when I was a Kid

We ate hot dogs and sauerkraut on January First

And chips and coleslaw till we’d about burst

In February, on gray, snowy days

We’d build snow forts and put on plays

In March when days were windy and cool

We’d fly kites and day dream in school

In April we’d walk in rain and splash in puddles

We’d float boats and stay out of trouble

In May we’d count the days till school was out

We’d ride bikes, climb trees and run about

In June we’d build dams and play in the “cricks”

And explore the woods and make cabins out of sticks

In July we’d have wiener roasts, one and all

On the fourth, we’d play badminton and ball

In August we’d stay in the pool

Is all we could to just to stay cool


In September we hated to see summer end

But liked to see our school time friends

In October we’l rake and jump in fall leaves

We’d hike about in jeans and long sleeves

In November we’d get ready for the snow

And have Thanksgiving or practice the bow

In December we’d shop, bake and make list

And then have a lot of fun opening gifts

wordle using words played on Words with Friends

Gotcha  

The road stretched out into a dark void.

I sat on the front seat of the car

blinking back tears unwept.

It was my birthday and not one

of my friends remembered it.

 Seated beside me was my dog, Jake.

He nuzzled my shoulder as if wanting

to prove  his love to me.

The headlights shone on a figure
standing in the middle of the road,
a male  about 180 pounds.
He was waving me to stop.
I didn’t feel safe, even though
I knew Jake, a German Shepherd,
could easily take him. My car wasn’t roomy,
barely enough room for Jake and me.

I knew the sand dunes were just over the hill.

What if the stranger’s car was stuck?

And the fog was becoming milkier.

 I decided to take my chances

and stopped the car and just then

an old van pulled up. The man,

probably hearing Jakes barks
and warning growls headed to the van.

I thought maybe I could worm

my way out of this one.
Zillions of reasons to not become involved
 marched through my mind. Alone in the shire,

I wasn’t about to kill the fatted calf for a stranger,

especially when I could be the fatted calf.

For some strange reason, I thought back

to the second grade class I taught.

A noun is a person place or thing.  

Well there’s the person, this spooky road is the place

and the thing is this gage or challenge

seemingly coming from the heavens,

or from somewhere else?

I tend to want to do everything

but end up doing nothing. I quit arguing

with myself, leashed Jake, opened the car door

and approached the van.

 The van doors flew open.

Hooded figures jumped out
and yelled, “Gotcha!”
My heart stopped pounding
when I realized they were my friends,
emphasis on the “were.”
“Happy Birthday!” they said
and we headed for the dunes to party.