Don’t Worry About A Thing

Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? (Matt 6:27) Nope! We can chew our nails, wrap all the hairs of our head around our fingers until there is no hair left, and we can wear a trench in the floor, but none of that changes the worrying situation. All that does is flood our bodies with poisonous stress hormones and make us ill.

No, worrying is not the answer. Worrying is the enemy. It wears us out and keeps us down. God has given each of us the choice. We can chose to worry or not. I know, in the midst of a trial it’s really hard not to worry. How can we stop ourselves from worrying?

There is an answer. It so simple most folks miss it. The answer to worry is to seek first the kingdom and righteousness of God, then everything we need will be given to us. Don’t continually think about the problem. Take your mind, and focus it on the Word, knowledge, kingdom, and righteous ways of God. Fill your mind with the things of God. Lose yourself in Him and the worries will fade in His glory.

She Was Seven I Was Eight


Maureen being Maureen stood her ground defiant. My Da grabbed her by the cardigan and said, “I’m gonna ask ye wan mare time an you better tell me the truth! Where did you get the Chinese ropes, the pencil, and the rubber?”

“Ah telt ye Da, Ah fun thum oan the spare grun, ye can ask ma pal!”

His big bony hand came flying from above and slapped her arse, once, (“Where’d ye get them?”) twice, and then half a dozen times.

“Ah laugh when ye hit me!” She responded, fire blazing from her bright red face and her brilliant green eyes. “Ah laugh! Hahaha!” She laughed louder and louder.

The hand still holding her cardigan pulled her across his knee and he spanked her again and again.

“Hahahaha, hahaha, yer no hurting me!” She goaded her face inches from the floor.

He gave her another few whacks and threw her toward the door. “Get tae yer bed, you’re getting nae dinner the night!”

Smirking she sorted her cardigan and went ben the room. I waited until it was safe and followed her. She was lying on our bed crying. “How dae ye always fight him I asked?”

Wiping her nose on the pillow-case she answered, “Cause I’m no gonna let him get the better o me, that’s how!”

“Where did ye get the Chinese-ropes, the pencil, and the rubber?” I whispered.

“Ah stole them from Woolworth’s!” she shouted. We both started laughing.

Magnum Facere

The tree, winter, spring, summer or fall, ignored. Then the great drought dried out the earth and it’s roots loosed. It started with an unusual sound — The sound of a whale singing deep in the ocean, sort of like that, but much more eerie and not so beautiful. Then the tree began to lean forward and then lean a smidge to the right, and then to the left. I swear, it started to sway in the hot south wind like a very tall hula dancer obeying the call of the ukulele. Crazy tree!

I watched it sway ever wildly and yet somehow it remained upright. But then it’s heavy lower branches cracked under the strain, and it’s roots went flying up into the air, and it fell with a mighty thud. Blocking the sun and the moon and the stars, its shriveled foliage dropped creating a crisp brown blanket, which, on reflection, could be a good thing — mulching the thirsty soil. And, if nothing else, at least the worms had something to chew on. Of course that’s if there were any worms still alive.

Beginnings, a seed sent out a feeder, I can do this! said he imagining magnificence.

Magnum Facere: To do something great.


It rained today and tears fell
heavy on blood-drenched soil
The blood cried out to heaven
And heaven wailed, grieving the loss
Thunders roared and lightening cracked
Great big tears fell heavy
And a tired little Robin flew away.

Lost In Translation

Do you remember the bible verse that says, for you cannot make even one hair of your head black or white? Well, I used to always laugh at that verse, usually when I was dying my hair, red, or blonde. It was seriously funny to me. Of course I could color my own hair! But, that was back in the day when I didn’t mind pouring and mixing all the smelly chemicals and applying them to lovely brown hair.

The fact that it was such a pain to do that whole process every four to six weeks never seemed to bother me, until recently. My hair is naturally silver (gray) now and coloring it is a real pain. Because no sooner have I colored it dark blonde with honey highlights when what seems like a few days later there’s half an inch of silver roots again!

In the last few years I’ve afforded myself the luxury of having my color done at beauty salons. I try to pick salons that are known for their amazing results. Funny thing though, the results I get are rarely that amazing. In fact I’ve often commented that I could have done better myself. Though I will admit Ive had some lovely results at salons.

The time before last I asked for my hair to be lightened slightly from the mid brown it was to more of a dark blonde. They bleached my hair white blonde! I was not a happy camper! After that fiasco I did my own color twice. Not great results, but acceptable. And then I decided last week that I’d give a new salon the chance to color my hair. I got a recommendation from a friend and thought, how could anything possibly go wrong? Dumb question. Of course things can go wrong.

I showed the stylist a photograph and clearly told her what I wanted. She responded by saying that she thought my hair had a sort of green tone to it and that it needed to be a little warmer. Right there! Right there! I should have listened to what she said and ran for the hills. But, I took the time to try to understand what she was meaning.

“Well, do you like your hair ashy?” she asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay then, what you’re going to need is a base retouch, then highlights and lowlights. But you have really beautiful silver hair, if you wanted to grow that out there’s a way to do it so that you never have those root demarcation lines. We blend the highlights and the lowlights and your gray is blended and disappears.”

I’m like, “really? I’d love to grow them out like that.”

“Okay then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll do just the highlights and the lowlights and your grays will be blended in with them.”

She mixed and painted, and folded foils, and let me sit for fifteen minutes. Then she brushed a tint onto the hair she’d left out of the foils. I sat for ten minutes. Then she pulled the foils from my head and rinsed it. And then she blow-dried my hair.

I sat there and watched the horror of my new color unfold before my eyes. Not only was the color the absolute worse dull brown I’d ever seen, it had big blocks of lighter dull-brown on the right and none on the left. But the absolute worst was that big patch of gray was still exactly as it had been before she started. I couldn’t believe it. Her reaction to my dismay was, ‘But yes, don’t you remember I told you that the gray would need to grow about two and a half inches more before you could actually see the blending technique work? I was lost for words. I paid my bill and left.

When I got home and hubby saw my new color. He wanted to march me right back to the salon to get my money back. Or he wanted her to do the job I paid for. But my thinking was she was under no stress the first time she colored my hair and look at the results. Can you imagine what the result would be under the stress of a do-over? No thanks.

Which brings us back to God and His wonderful sense of humor. I can just hear Him laughing and saying, didn’t I tell you you couldn’t make a hair black or white?   
After all, you cannot make one hair black or white… Matthew 5:36

Those Who Wait On The Lord Shall Renew Their Strength!

No doubt about it, Joseph was loved, but he was also hated. His father loved him above all his other children, and just so they wouldn’t forget that fact, he made Joseph a beautiful coat to parade around in. Add to that Joseph’s dreams which predicted his whole family would bow down to him and you can understand their angst.

When his brothers saw the love poured out on Joseph by their father they seethed with envy and conspired to do away with their younger brother. So When an opportune time arose they tossed him in a pit and sold him to traveling salesmen. Joseph ended-up in Egypt sold as a slave to Potiphar one of Pharaoh’s officials. But Joseph did exceptionally well in Potiphar’s house.

However Potiphar’s wife lusted after him and when he gave her the cold-shoulder she accused him of assaulting her and he was jailed in the place where Pharaoh’s prisoners were kept. As time went on Joseph, just as in Potiphar’s house, was given a position of great authority. While there he interpreted the dreams of two fellow prisoners. One was Pharaoh’s chief cupbearer.

Joseph interpreted the cupbearer’s dream and said he would be restored to his position with Pharaoh. Joseph asked the cupbearer to please remind the Pharaoh about him and get him out of prison. But the cupbearer forgot all about Joseph. So Joseph remained in prison for another two long years!

Why did God leave Joseph in jail an extra two years after the cupbearer’s release.? It would have been nothing for God to bring Joseph to the cupbearer’s remembrance, but he didn’t! And what did Joseph do in those two years?

Joseph did what he did in every unfair situation in which he found himself, he worked hard, served with wisdom and humility, waited on The Lord, and grew strong.

Years later Pharaoh had a bad dream. The cupbearer tells him about Joseph and long story short Pharaoh, upon hearing Joseph’s interpretation of his dream, puts Joseph in charge of saving Egypt. Joseph in essence becomes King of Egypt!

Why was Joseph held captive all those years? And what was he doing all that time? He learned how to manage the resources of a household, then the resources of a large prison, and finally the precious resources of a nation/world in severe famine.

So, what are you learning as you wait? What are you doing while you are in the pits? Will you soar when freedom comes? Will you rise to the occasion? Or have your wings shriveled and dropped off with the despair of it all?

Re-evaluate and grow strong! There is a purpose and a season for all things under heaven.

Confusion (Haiku)


The world on fire

Hearts, minds, souls lost in the fray

Jesus shows the way


Jesus said, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life…”

The Witness


Guardian Angel

It was late as she sat at the desk cluttered with notebooks, little bits of paper, and pens. She was tired and wondered why she didn’t just turn everything off, slide into bed, and drift away. Last night it was well past two before she unplugged her computer and turned out the lights.

Why does she do that? He mused. Why not go to bed when she feels tired? He watched her as he always did. He, her guardian angel, was never more that a couple of feet away from her at any given time. Sometimes he was even closer. But that was only when there was an imminent threat from the evil one. He stroked her hair and whispered, “You need your rest little one.”

She suddenly felt very weary. Reaching for the mouse she clicked on the red dot at the top left of her screen. The page she was on faded. She placed the arrow over the little black apple. The computer was still in the shutting-down process when she was startled to see a figure behind her mirrored on the screen. He was beautiful. A bright golden glow emanated from him and he seemed to be smiling one of those Mona Lisa type smiles.

She sat there in the silence; then said, “I’ve always known you were there, but I never thought I’d ever see you.”

He straightened his shoulders and tucked in his enormous wings.

“What’s it like looking after me?” She laughed. “I keep you on your toes don’t I? Honestly, you’ve no need to be here. I’m in no danger.” She watched him on the screen. He looked miffed. He raised his hands and arms and started floating upwards and backwards. As he moved she noticed many more creatures mirrored on the black screen. None of them beautiful. She watched menacing faces contort with a hatred unknown to those created in God’s image. Terrified she covered her face with her hands and prayed. Peace washed over her, she lowered her hands. He had returned.

He stood behind her and without saying a word told her, “You need your rest little one. Tomorrow the battle continues, and you will need your strength.”

She stood, pushed her chair back, gathered her papers together, placed them in a bright orange folder, wrapped the elastic around it and shoved it into her already overstuffed bag. “Goodnight, my friend. Thank you for watching over me.”

He followed her to the bedroom.

Her badge lay on the bedside table along with her gun and ID card. Lillian Elliott — Special Investigator — United Nations War Crimes Commission.


For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; Psalm 91:11



Just Deserts


Long before the sun rises she arrives at the park. With beads in hand she walks the circular track praying. By the time the sun has reached the horizon she is gone. But not this morning. This morning she sits on the bench facing the bay.

Beads of sweat cover her serene face. The heat turning her first pink then red as she sits motionless. Her hands, clasped around her prayer-beads, sit on her lap. Her light blue pashmina folded over the back of the bench gets lifted by the breeze and is lying on the dew-covered grass. Perfect!

She breathes in, and breathes out. Silence.

Picking up the pashmina, and bending over the bench, I ask, “Are you alright?” 

“Are you?” she responds without moving.

Unnerved by her response I recoil a little.

“Scuse me?” 

“You’ve been watching me from those bushes for months. My question is valid where your question is redundant. You know I am fine.”  

I gather myself and compose an attitude of confidence, which is the last thing I’m feeling. “Well, if you are alright, I won’t bother you anymore!”

“But you haven’t answered my question.”

Her eyes remain closed and she still hasn’t moved a muscle apart from her lips. Beads of sweat are running down my face. Being a salty old dog I struggle to keep them from stinging my eyes.

“What question?” I ask backing away from the bench.

“Come now, playing coy? I asked if you were alright.”

Her unshakable confidence disturbs me. This one is different, but I knew that from the start. There’s something very exciting about her… “Yes, of course, I’m fine! I was just concerned for you!”

“Is that why you’ve stalked me all these months?”

“Stalked! Now, just a minute!”

“What would you call it then if not stalking?”

“I… I, was simply concerned for a young woman out in the dark by herself. That’s all!”

“So what were you doing out in the dark?”


“Don’t tell me, let me guess, you were taking the night air?”

“Well, yes in fact. I was.”

Without moving her shoulders her head spins to face me. And, even though her eyes are still closed, I can feel her search every cell of my being. I want to run, but I’ve no strength. I feel myself fall to the wet grass and I’m grasping for air. I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe! I can’t move!  I watch as she rises from the bench to stand over me. She must be a hundred feet tall! I can’t protect myself; it’s no use. I’m going to die, I’m going to die!  


Her voice reverberates through me.

“Dominic, these are your last moments on earth. Do you have anything you wish to say?”

I can’t speak. I’m lying on the ground like a dead man, unable to move.  I scream, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!  —  Nothing’s coming out of my mouth!  

“What are you sorry for Dominic? For Alana? Betty? Jean? Rose?…”

I watch terrified as she transforms from a beautiful woman to a grotesque monster. She lifts me from the ground, and  like a dog would a bone, crunches down…


An aged heartbroken woman sits knitting while gazing at her daughter’s picture. Her ears perk up when she hears the nightly news begin.

Police are calling the death of a respected local Deacon suspicious. A dog-walker discovered his body this morning in the same park where a number of young women have been found murdered over the last two decades…’

The old woman rises and lifts the picture of her daughter from the sideboard. “You see Rose, my darling, didn’t I  tell you, God answers prayers?”

Returning to her armchair she opens her bible and whispers, “Lord, protect all your babies, send Evil to hunt down and slay the Wicked this whole world over.  Amen!” 


Evil will slay the wicked…Psalm 32:21a   


Mr. Gruff (Love’s Revenge!)

I have no idea where this came from. I always pray, Lord help me to write what you’d want me to, before I start a new blog post. LOL, no I’m not blaming God for this. I’m just saying!  :-)  Enjoy.



I think I like the things you do

The way you bend and kiss my shoes

And how you carry all my stuff

I think I like you, Mr. gruff


And even though you are a Grouch!

I think I like your sulky pout

And how you grumble when opposed

And even how you pick your nose


Yes, I think I like the way you are

Yes, even when, you’re mouth’s ajar

And you’re spitting words like spears

And swearing you’ll go back on beers


Ac tually… you’re kinda cute! 

Huffing, puffing and storming about

Cause you are just a teddy-bear

That’s getting fat and losing hair!




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