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



The Witch, The Warlock, And the Lukewarm Church (The Invisible War)


(Author’s note: This is a spiritual battle to which the church is oblivious. Ephe 6:12   For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.)

Red Coat Witch









“I’m going home,” said witch to warlock, picking up her broom.

“You said it’d be a blast,” she griped, soaring round the room.

Her hair in waves behind her, like blackened stormy swells

Swept dust and cobwebs clean away from windows, walls, and shelves


Round and round the little church the witch in anger flew

While the lukewarm and the sleepy sat comfy in their pews

The warlock whistled heartily for hornets, wasps, and bees

And bats of every ilk amassed on roof and trees 


Round and round the demons flew spewing savage vile

Their hatred ever-growing, their anger hellish wild

But then from near the altar came sound like fiery sword

A little widow woman was sending up the Word


“No weapon forged against us shall stand or bring us down!

For the Lord our God is with us, and He wears the Victor’s crown

Each knee shall bow before Him, confessing He is Lord!

You devils are defeated, thus says the Living Word!”


The ghoulish screams of agony increased as angels warred

Wielding swords of holy fire from well of God’s own Word

The pastor peeked his head out from behind his plush gold chair

To see if it was safe to leave, but demons were still there


As angels fought, and widow prayed, the folks in pews felt stirred

Then someone started singing, We Bless The Risen Lord!

And one by one the fiery flames fell as at pentecost

Then witch and warlock bent their knees and bowed before the cross 


“We’re sorry for our lives of sin and for our wicked ways.

Save us holy father, and we’ll serve you all our days!”

But God, the Holy Spirit, had heard their lies before

The warlock and his wicked witch fell prostrate on the floor


He showed them, via great big screen, their lives of sin and shame

And their wicked hearts still filled with hate for Name above all Names

They writhed as serpents in a fire, and squealed vile blasphemies

Then floor of church turned portal now they burn eternally 


The little church sits sleeping as pastor monotones

But the little widow fills the gap and quietly battles on.

Worth Less?


There was a little donkey, left starving by the way

He couldn’t even walk no more, he couldn’t even bray

The man who used to beat him, tripped and bumped his head

The man who used to kick him, had gone and dropped down dead


That man arose to heaven, where he saw the holy host

Angels, Serphs, and Cherubs, and God, the Holy Ghost

Then fear like darkness baring death, descended on his soul

And that man who kicked his donkey, fell down a fiery hole


There was a little donkey, left dying by the road

He lay there barely breathing, beneath his heavy load

When Light appeared up in the sky, and warmed him through and through

And summer rain like mama’s love,  fell soft as morning dew


He raised his eyes to see a man, now kneeling by his side

And felt ashamed at his poor lot, he wanted so to  hide

A gentle hand caressed his back, and life coursed through his veins

The next he knew he was on his feet, and free from choking reins


“I need you little donkey, to fulfill a prophecy.

Are you willing little donkey, to bare and carry me? “

The donkey brayed and nodded, and with heart so full of  love

He bowed before the gentle man, and praised the Lord above


Now, you know this little donkey, this humble little ass

He’s the one who carried Jesus, through the city’s cheering mass

And just like him you may be one, all beat and left for dead 

And thoughts of total worthlessness, are all that’s in your head


Take another look at donkey, he wasn’t what he seemed

Man and world tossed him aside, but Christ himself redeemed

Ne’er think my friend that you’re a waste, you’re not a throw-away

He made you in His image, He made you for today


And none can know your actual worth, not you, nor any man

Though, your name is writ in bright red blood, in palm of His own hand.


Spirits and Angels – The Spirit of Truth


It’s amazing the things that we cannot see or know that we readily, nay, heartily accept. Many in this world have problems accepting that there is a Holy Spirit. Namely, The Spirit of Truth, and yet they have no problem accepting that there are ‘spirit’ guides and helpful ‘angels.’

These spirit guides and helpful angels are wooed and sought after with regularity in hopes of prosperity, elevation, and light. Of course we all want to hear from the other side! They have access to everything, and see all, and know all. But, do they know all? Can they really see all?  And do they care for our well-being and peace? Are they good-guys?

What about the Spirit of Truth? Most folk ridicule the very notion of a Holy Spirit. I find that fascinating. There seems to be something instinctive in man pushing against the knowledge of the Holy Spirit as naturally as it pushes against the notion that pigs fly, and yet, delights completely in the belief of spirit guides and angels. Hmm? What’s the difference between those spirits and angels and the Spirit of Truth? Well, I’m glad you asked.

Those lovely spirit guides and angels will tell us what we want to hear. Yes, you are going to meet the love of your life! Yes, you are going to come into great wealth!, Yes, your old Pappa/Mama/Gran is happily watching you from heaven! And be careful not to get on the number 26 on a Friday! I could go on but you get my drift. The fact they can describe the character and actions of those gone before us or tell us what we did last Thursday only confirms their authenticity and power. But should that cause us to trust these entities are friends interested in our well-being and peace? 

And what about this Holy Spirit, this Spirit of Truth; what does He do? “And He, when He is come, will convict the world in respect of sin, and of righteousness, and of Judgement.” John 16:8.  Now, who wants to be reminded of all the bad things they’ve done or are doing? No one! So, we turn away from the Spirit of Truth, and run to those spirits who are more understanding and who give us exactly what we pay for. They make us feel good. Where’s the harm in that?

Well, I could quote you chapter and verse, but I won’t. I’ll just say, that not only is the Spirit of Truth the Convictive He is also the Guide, Comforter, Counselor, Helper, and Friend who loves us and stays with us always. See John chapter 14.

Finally let’s not forget  that Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. 2 Cor 2-14.  So, that wonderful spirit or angel guiding us into a rosy future might, just possibly, be old Lucifer himself. Buahahahahaha!


Angels, Visions, and Warnings


My wee (younger) cousin Mary shared this photo on social media this morning and it got me to thinking about angels.  I’ve seen angels with my own eyes in broad-day-light so I know they exist but, when I see angels portrayed like these, with wings, it makes me question the validity of the photographs.

I do not believe angels have wings, they don’t need them. They are spirit. Spirits do not need wings to travel. I believe the masters of old depicted the angels in their paintings and drawings with wings because it was one of the few ways to show the difference between man and angels.

And now you are wondering about my seeing angels.  :-) For those who are wondering I’m going to share the story.

At the time I was friends with a woman who was going through a very tough time in her life. She was in much pain and heartache. I, as a friend and a Christian, was doing my best to help her get through her day. I would listen to her, try to give her advice, and just generally be there for her. I never thought about whether what I was saying or doing was right or wrong.

I usually went home for lunch every day and this one day I’d made myself a sandwich and some tea and I was sitting at the kitchen table eating my lunch and reading. At some point I realized I was not alone. To my right, exactly where the kitchen becomes the sitting-room, stood two angels. They were male, blond, wore white robes, and stood side by side. I was petrified beyond words.

The feeling that overcame me was like that of passing-out. I felt that I was falling backwards into an abyss. And then I was in a vision. In the vision I saw myself and my friend. We both had on blindfolds. In this vision I was leading my friend to a door and I was opening the door for her.

When I came out of the vision I felt even more terrified because I had no doubt that the scripture verse about the blind leading the blind was the message the angels were giving me. In my ignorance I was hindering and not helping another and it was so bad that God sent angels to stop me! I decided it would be better for me, and more especially for her, if I just listened rather than offer her any further advice.

Cartoon Gospels - Tripping Out?


The verse about the blind leading the blind comes from Matthew 15:14. In the 15th chapter of Matthew Jesus is speaking with his disciples about the Pharisees, the religious rulers at the time. The Pharisees were questioning the disciples holiness because they didn’t wash their hands before they ate. To which Jesus responded, it is not what goes in to his mouth but what comes out of it that makes the man clean or unclean because out of the heart comes all sorts of evil.

The disciple asked Jesus, do you know you offended them when you said it’s what comes out of their hearts that makes them unclean? Jesus replied… if a blind man leads a blind man, both will fall into a pit.

Even though my intentions were Christian and pure and of genuine concern for my friend I got it wrong. Sad to say I’m still impulsive and reactive rather than wise and cautious. I still get it wrong. How I wish God would just be done with it and go ahead and make me perfect. But then I suppose I’d miss this whole exciting journey called life.

Bread of Angels,
made the bread of men;
The Bread of heaven
puts an end to all symbols:
A thing wonderful!
The Lord becomes our food:
poor, a servant, and humble.
We beseech Thee,
Godhead One in Three
That Thou wilt visit us,
as we worship Thee,
lead us through Thy ways,
We who wish to reach the light
in which Thou dwellest.


Carol and Jane: The Sunny Side of Life

you are special

Carol and Jane are just two of the many wonderful Carers who help take care of our mother. There are: Nicola, Ruth, Carol, Carol, Angela, Ann, Rita, Katy, Cathy, and I know I’ve forgotten some names, but I wanted to concentrate on the two Nutters Carol and Jane today. 

Jane, the taller of the two, (and while still a youngster. Ha!   :-) ) has started taking hot flashes so at times looks downright purple. Carol, the not so taller of the two, likes to tell jokes, wear Wellies, go hiking-hills and walking. They are both a breath of joyous fresh air in a world of hurt and pain.

Every morning at eight-thirty my mother hears them calling, “Good Morning, Margaret!” as they come in the front door. Then with love and good-cheer they help her out of bed, (most times while singing her a song) help her in to the shower, bathe her, dress her, and give her breakfast. They share jokes, and songs, and as many cuddles as my mother wants. Nothing is ever too much for these two beautiful souls.

Why am I telling you about Jane and Carol? Because I love them. I love them for their unfailing kindness, for their patience, for their care and concern for my mother. I love them because even though it can be a very tough, and sometimes heartbreakingly painful job they have, they are always the same, loving, caring, cheerful, fun, and hard-working women. I love them because when they are on the job I/we can rest assured our mother is in good hearts. 

My mother adores these two Angels. Every morning they leave her beaming, and as fresh as a daisy, happily sitting in her chair. Then its cuddles all round ‘again’ and they are off to take care of their next client.

There are no words to express the depth of our thanks for these two, beautiful, wonderful, gracious, women. They are a blessing we know comes straight from the heart of God. Thank you God for Carol and Jane; for two truly amazing human beings, and deeply caring souls. They are dearly loved and cherished. xx



On an aside note I tried umpteen times to find a video where the folk singing, Keep on the Sunny Side were actually smiling as they sang, but their faces were all tripping them!  Ah tell you wit! I’ve laughed off at least a couple of those stubborn pounds this morning.    :-)

Random Thoughts

Heaven is real.

There are angels (sent to help us) constantly flitting between heaven and earth.

As ugly as we can be, and are, God still loves us.

Take heart it’s not over yet.

You can begin again.

Tomorrow is a new day, a new start, another chance.

Don’t despair.

You can throw off the old and put on the new.

Just ask for the help you need.

And never give up believing all things are possible!

His Eye Is On The Sparrow

One cold fall evening, just as the last rays of the sun were slipping below the horizon, and the stars began to twinkle, a little baby bird chirped, “Mama, may I play some more?”

No, no,” hushed mama bird. “It’s dark now and time to rest.” Mama bird tucked baby bird tightly under her wings.

Baby bird liked being in that warm, safe, place. “Will you tell me a story Mama?”  

Mama bird gazed lovingly at her precious baby and chirped. “Once there was a little sparrow that lived in a very old oak tree. All day long little sparrow jumped from branch to branch singing his little heart out. His songs were so glorious that people, and all kinds of birds and garden creatures stopped to listen. It wasn’t unusual to see a crowd gathered around little sparrow’s tree. Of course, little sparrow was so caught up in his songs that he never noticed his audiences. He was joyfully lost in every ‘chirp’ and every “trill.”

Baby bird snuggled to get comfy as mama bird continued. “One morning old rooster ‘cock-a-doodle dooed!” with such a loud, sharp, shriek that poor little sparrow jumped-up out of his sleep, missed his footing, and went tumbling down through the giant tree. He hit his head on almost every branch and limb as he bounced off one and down through another. About halfway down part of poor little sparrow’s beautiful beak broke clean off. PUTT! Sparrow lay dazed on the dew-soaked morning  grass.

Little sparrow,” a voice whispered. “Little sparrow come sing, come sing your songs again.

Little sparrow’s body twitched and then twitched some more. And somehow, and no one knows how, the part of his beak that had broken off was right back where it belonged  – on his beak. Sparrow opened his eyes and caught his breath. He’d never seen an angel before. And, as all little birds should, he bowed his face to the ground.

Come up here,” said the angel.

“Little sparrow felt his body slowly rise from the ground. Up and up, and up he went until he was at the top of the great tree. He was now face to face, and eye to eye, with the angel. He felt as though he were floating on an ocean of warmth and love. It felt so good.

Sing, little Sparrow,” the angel said again. “Sing!” Tenderly the angel touched the little sparrow’s beak. 

Suddenly little sparrow burst into song. He sang and he sang, and he flit from branch to branch, and he sang, and he sang some more until all at once the heavens parted and there sitting in all his glory was the King of Kings. The king was smiling. He was listening to little sparrow singing.

I love you little sparrow.” He said. “Thank you for singing the sun up in the morning and the moon out at night. Thank you for being faithful to use the gift I’ve given you. Thank you for sharing your beautiful songs,” He whispered lovingly. Then, just as suddenly as the heavens had opened, they closed again.

Many have wondered why little sparrow always sang his songs with such passion, and with all of his strength and might. Now they know what little sparrow has always known; he is ever being watched by the King.”

“What about old rooster Mama, what happened to old rooster?” said baby bird.

Mama bird rolled her eyes heavenward and chuckled. “Well, Sweetheart, the older old rooster got (remember he was quite old to begin with) the louder and louder he ‘cock-a-doodle-dooed.’ But it was okay because wise little sparrow began sleeping with great big pillows full of leaves wrapped around his little ears.” 

Mama bird snuggled baby bird tightly under her wing, and before you could say, ‘night-y-night, sleep-tight,’ both were fast asleep. 


But not a single sparrow will fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. Matthew 10:29 b

Oceans and Rivers of Tears

I wrote this poem the day the little children of Sandy Hook Elementary School were gunned-down while learning their lessons in class. 


Rivers of tears run through fields, and cities, and streets 

Wailing is heard in this nation — (proud and strong) bereft

Its mothers and fathers weep for their children

sisters and brothers lie curled in grief

Their wailing and travailing are heard all the way to heaven

(Where angels are weeping too)

Grandparents pound their chests, “Take me instead! TAKE ME INSTEAD!”

But the little children, snatched in the blink of an eye,

are already safe at home.

The Word of God says that heaven belongs to such as these. After watching this can you just imagine the joy of the children in heaven? 

The Reward

The falling snow-covered her sleek black locks like a mantilla. She reached for the cast-iron handle of the heavily carved church door, turned and pulled it in one motion. Candles flickered around the sanctuary giving a warmth to its gothic stylings. All she needed was the organ softly playing, but there was no one sitting on the bench. All was quiet.

“Click-click, click-click.” Her smart black pumps needed re-heeled. She tried walking on the balls of her feet to lessen the noise and keep her heels from marring the beautiful Italian marble, but the clicking continued. She headed to the altar.

How long had it been since she’d set foot in a church? She couldn’t remember. Flashes of the congregation singing and praising God flooded her mind while her heart-felt like someone had placed a hot-water bottle right in its center. Tears welled up and flowed down her face. The heat in her heart intensified. She knelt at the foot of the altar before flinging herself prostrate on the floor sobbing.

“Why do you love me Lord! When I’m such a waste of life? Why? Please take me home to be with you. I am useless here. I can’t love another human being. I’m so busy judging them, and pushing them away from you with my selfishness. I’ve tried to love people Lord. You know I have, but I just can’t! I don’t have your love in my heart. I’m so selfish! I have nothing to give and I give nothing. Why am I still walking this earth? Why am I still here? Please take me home to be with you! Please Lord, take me home to be with you!


The sobbing continued until moonbeams streamed through the stained-glass window. Weary and worn she got to her knees and then stood to face the altar. Hopelessness filled every cell of her being. She was a complete failure. She was a failure as a wife, and mother, daughter, sister, friend, neighbor, and colleague, but worse than all of that, she was a failure as a Christian. There was no hope for her. There was no point in trying to go on. She’d made up her mind. If He wouldn’t take her home to be with him she would. Taking a bottle of pills from her coat pocket, she turned them out onto her hand, threw them into her mouth, and took a quick drink from the holy water by the side-door.

She lay down on the first pew and waited. In the distance she could see a beautiful crystal-sea. The icy-blue waters gently lapped at the gleaming white sands while the breeze whispered… What was it saying? She struggled to hear. Angels, some in white and some in blue robes, some with golden sashes, and some with white, filled the heavens. She tried calling them, but her voice wouldn’t work. She sat up and watched as one by one people of all ages appeared and seemed to take their place in the pews until every pew was filled and every aisle overflowing. And music, unlike any she had ever known, permeated everything. Was that the scent of? Jasmine? lavender? Gardenia? She couldn’t quite place it.

A little boy, maybe three years old, came over to her. He looked at her with such love in his eyes she wondered if he knew her. His chubby little hand reached up and gently touched her face. “Thank you for praying for me, and my mommy and daddy.” he said, and kissed her cheek.

“But I don’t know you; when did I pray for you.?” she whispered. The boy moved on only to be replaced by an old woman. Just as the boy had done the woman looked at her with such love in her eyes and then gently caressed her face. “Thank you for lifting me up. Your prayers bought me enough time so that I was able to say goodbye to my precious husband.”

“But I don’t know you either, when did I pray for you?”

A young man in combat gear came next. He looked at her with such love in his eyes. “Thank you for praying for me.” he said caressing her tear-stained face. “Without your prayers I wouldn’t be here. You prayed me into the Kingdom. I’ll be forever grateful.”

One by one the people in the pews came forward, looked at her with such love, caressed her face, and thanked her for the prayers she’d said for them. “But I don’t know any of you!” she cried.

She watched as the tiny flickering light in the middle of the altar grew until it filled the church. And then a voice from above said, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these you did for me.” Her body was now upright and she was floating toward the flame. Indescribable love engulfed, surrounded, poured-in and out of her all at the same time. And peace like a river carried her forward. As she drew closer to the center of the flame it opened in a vision.

She saw herself sitting at the breakfast table with her bible open, her hands lifted high, and praying. The vision changed and she was prostrate on the floor on top of a large map of the world. She was weeping and wailing and calling on the Name of God to save the lost Peoples of the different nations. She pled for the down-trodden, and the despised, the poor and the hurting in war-torn regions. The vision changed again. This time she was driving and each time she passed a child she lifted them up to the Lord for salvation, deliverance, and protection. And again the vision changed. This time she saw herself kneeling, hands clasped in prayer by her bedside.

She could hear the faint sound of voices surrounding her and struggled to hear what was being said. The sound increased. A hand took hers and turned her to face the pews. There on their knees were all the people who had thanked her for her prayers. She instantly knew they were praying for her! She could feel waves and waves of love wash over her until she was overcome with joy. Suddenly she burst out singing, “Holy, Holy, Holy! Lord God Almighty! Early in the morning my song shall rise to you! Only thou art Holy, Merciful, and Mighty, God in three persons, blessed trinity!” She thought she was going to explode with joy.

Once again she was watching the icy-blue waves lap the crystal-sea. The whispering was louder and she could finally hear what was being said. “But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you.” She stood, her spirit renewed, her heart bursting with love, and her purpose clear. She’d never felt better in her life. All she wanted to do was run into the street and pour out God’s love on everyone she met.   —   And she did. 


My faith looks up to thee,
Thou Lamb of Calvary, Saviour divine!
Now hear me while I pray;
Take all my guilt away;
O let me from this day be wholly thine.!

May thy rich grace impart
Strength to my fainting heart, 
My zeal inspire;
As thou hast died for me.
O may my love to Thee
Pure, warm and changeless be,
A living fire…

Holy, holy, holy!  Lord God Almighty!

Early in the morning our song rise to thee.

Holy, holy, holy!  Merciful and mighty,

God in three persons, blessed Trinity!


Holy, holy, holy!  All the saints adore thee,

casting down their golden around the crystal sea;

cherubim and seraphim falling down before thee,

which wert, and art, and evermore shalt be 

Holy, holy, holy!  Lord God Almighty!

All thy works shall praise thy name,

in earth and sky and sea.

Holy, holy, holy!  Merciful and mighty,

God in three persons, blessed Trinity.

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