I am the Vine; you are the branches. Apart from Me, you can do nothing. John 15:5
Rest a while, come inside.
Mourning poison on the vine.
Sipping coffee reading news,
Propaganda, nothing new.
Story of the USA,
We used to have freedom say.
Compassion rare state of mind,
You are human, are you kind?
Anguish cause of all untruth,
Approving evil say of you?
In the dawning early light,
Right is wrong and wrong is right.
1 Corinthians 1:26-29 For you see your calling, brethren, that not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called. But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the mighty things; and the base things of the world and the things which are despised God has chosen, and the things which are not, to bring to nothing the things that are, that no flesh should glory in His presence.
From the Bible
She reached for the stars she couldn’t find. Greg’s absence left her far behind. A breaking point had come and gone. Many sleepless nights. Toss over, restless one. Christmas songs aren’t meek or mild. Stuck within her childhood ‘Home’ Autism’s scar alone. She’s so proud of her younger brother, Now on His hand an infinity band. She admires her sister, who finished her degree. Raised two children despite her grief. How strong were her parents, to endure autism’s shame? Burns mar and scar masking her pain. Few see her translucent wheelchair, she appears OK why should they care? Yet at her core, an infinity stone. Forged from pressure, formed alone.
Thank you so much, Lord. Help me keep a spirit and outlook of praise while my dad plays the news 24/7. Father God, I choose to bless my dad and encourage his heart. Help me God, I’m trying to maintain a heart of thankfulness and praise amid the pain.
I hear Your heart Hannah, I will help you. I love you so much. Shine My Peace that passes earthly understanding. Your soul needs Me, come into My Rest, Into my Peace. Take upon yourself my yoke which is light, and not burdensome.
How will they know My Children?
God quietly whispers this question to the Hearts of those who will listen and obey.
My heart is breaking as I remember how it used to be: I walked among the crowds of worshipers, leading a great procession to the House of Jesus, singing and giving thanks amid the sound of a great celebration! Psalms 42:4
It’s OK to have black pants with a red tie,
It’s OK to crawl and scream out, ADONAI!
It’s OK to be held and yell out God’s Name.
It’s OK because He’s felt the same.
He’s been betrayed, bruised and cast aside.
At His lowest He was thrice denied.
He was counted among the poor, lost and broken.
As He hung on the Cross, His Life our Token.
To the one criminal who cursed God and died,
And the other who was with Him in Paradise.
Ages have passed and nothing’s changed,
Some still choose to curse His Name.
But sister nightbirde whispered in my ear,
“God’s on the bathroom floor, and to the broken draws near.”
In memory of nightbirde and inspired by my recent 72 hour hospital stay.
My bodies autonomy isn’t your commodity.
Get your hands off my kids, data gained mind biz.
‘Yuck-in’ shoehorned your way in,
My ‘Vote’ didn’t count, your ‘promises’ you flout.
Disregarding the discord your ‘Marshall Plan’ will cause.
VCHEW’ing out the righteous, all to Carlyle’s gaping maw.
Fool’s gold you’ve sold for souls,
Gutters blood of innocence untold.
Fuhrer’s emblem around your neck,
or is that fury’s ‘placebo effect?’
‘Devils that are’ don’t speak for me!
You and your kind, the ‘powers that be.’
Lioness of Judea within me ROARS,
Tiptoe tulips, your own traps fall sore.
Like it or not, My Redeemer LIVES
Unto Him Alone, my praise I give!
Every knee WILL bow and tongue confess,
From Atheist to Muslim with all the rest.
Governors and Rulers will crawl to God’s Throne.
Each tribute offered unto Him Alone.
Muzzled tight upon my face, replaced with known “common grace.”
Tossing aside your empty beer, not as “compassionate” as you appear.
Used excuses “got through to you.”
Thanks anyway, I’ll be in a zombie zoom room.
See something, say something? “Facts checked” or is it fat checks?
Do you even know the difference between, “civil city riots”, “mostly peaceful”?
King’s echoed “content of character”, shat upon.
Self-masturbatory, “masters degree”, in the art of flies;
Flung in faces of rotting dry eyes.
Setting sun over a broken mirror.
Distributing disabled water, Molotov lit hate;
A reflection of abomination fate.
You God, are The Way,
Not a way, nor any truth, not any life.
You God are life in abundance.
Your thoughts are not mine,
Yet, You know the thoughts you have towards me.
Giving me a hope and a future in You Alone.
For You Alone God, Are The Way Maker,
You Alone Jesus, are Divine.
Your Love is sweeter than wine!
There is no High, like the Most High God.
You a Humble, Gentle but Just and Loving God.
Your Ways are Pure, in You Alone I am secure!
I dreamt last night of Gregory.
I was searching for him for I had questions.
But I couldn’t find him.
I called to him but he didn’t answer because he was gone.
I called to him but he was silent and I missed him.
I missed the strength of his presence,
the reliability of his knowledge,
the solidity of his person,
the steadiness of his gaze,
and the sound of his voice.
I called again, and slowly, in his own time, in his own way, far away, invisible, he answered.
Yes, Greg said. What is it?
His voice answered.
Where have you gone? I asked. I need you.
Are you sure? He answered.
Yes, I said. I have questions for you.
Greg you, the hope and the despair,
the right and the wrong,
the light and the dark,
the question and the answer.
What do I do?
You carry on, Greg said.
How?
You keep asking the questions.
But, what is the answer? I asked.
I’ve shown you the answer:
The hope, the despair, the right, the wrong, the light, and the dark.
All of it. The answer is My Love.
In Memory of: Greggory
Mighty brave, might somehow seem,
Of this child’s millstone swing.
Rest today, swept away,
Choking out freedom’s say.
Swung low, kid not mine,
Stinging sweet of hellish grind.
Black and bluish touch to drink,
Keeping bones of rake-hell weep.
At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me. “If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea. Matthew 18:1-6
-dedicated to the lost children of perdition-
Where He sees the cracks and creases,
Where His River of life never ceases.
Out of His Waters drawn in you,
nurtures my garden and others too.
When all is lost, He Loves to find!
Come and see to become unblind.
Preconceived leave alone.
Come and flow in His Unknown.
Depths not dug,
Hearts yet tugged.
Seek Him with heart,
mercy plays part.
God’s Justice sings throughout the land.
His Ways are Higher then those of man.
I Will Follow the Lamb 
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