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Showing posts from 2013

Three Years

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Today marks three years since I held my Gran and watched as she passed from my arms into the arms of her King.  In some ways it feels like it was yesterday.  In most ways it feels so much longer than that.  I miss her every single day.  I am confident that I will be with her again.  I would like to post the tribute I wrote 2011 on this day.  Another year has passed, but the feelings are exactly the same.  I am sure they will remain the same until I once again look into her beautiful blue eyes...

"Did You Ever Know You Were My Hero?" A tribute to Mary Louise Eye

On 12/2/10 at 3:45am I looked into your beautiful blue eyes for the last time and held you as you took your last breath.  You lived a life dedicated to your family, friends, and your God.  You were the single greatest example to me of unconditional love and you were more my mother and best friend than my Grandmother.  Oh yes, you scolded me and were stern at times, and you were never shy about giving me a piece of your …

Grace

I am perfect in my imperfection because of Grace


Grace is an inflated raft that can submerge to the floor of a sea to save you.  Grace is the silver thread that stitches up the shreds of mangled souls.  Grace is the eye that finds us where it refuses, there, to leave us. Grace calls the waitress to the table and sits her down to wash her feet.  Grace sees underneath the manhole on a street of self-destruction.  Grace is the air to draw a breath in the belly of a whale.  Grace is the courage to stand in the shamed wake of a frightful falling.  Grace is the only fire hot enough to burn down a living hell.  Grace waits with healing in His wings when we’re too mad to pray.  Grace is the gravity that pulls us from depravity.  Grace races us to the Throne when we make haste to repent and always outruns us.  Grace treats us like we already are what we fear we’ll never become.  Grace is the doorpost dripping red when the angel of death grips the knob.  Grace is the stamp that says Ransomed on a life that …

At Seventeen

She's Seventeen today.  Wow.  Wait...How can that be true?  That went by so amazingly fast.  I know every parent says that.  But it seems it all only lasted a heartbeat's length.  I am trying to wrack my MS'd brain...trying to fumble for the 'Rewind' button so I can go back and watch it all over again...being careful--this time--to pay attention to all of The Sights (her sleeping heavy in my arms--all stuffed and drunk on milk--all of  "The First's"--the First Time I saw her face, her First Steps, her First Day of school), The Smells (baby powder kisses and fresh out of the dryer hugs), The Sounds (her musical, infectious laughter that bubbled up out of her little body and had the power to instantly cause a smile on every set of lips within earshot).  Can I just see it all again, just one more time?


She's a young Woman now....and what a fine one she is.  She is Wise so far beyond her years--and ancient soul in this young, healthy body.  Yet, her…

The Littlest Hero

By Guest Blogger: Scott DeWitt

I need to get this out so bear with me. Today we went to court with a friend. I saw both the rational, fair side of justice and also the side that the victim should not be made to suffer. Please dont ask for names but I feel I must speak about this so that it makes a little more sense, at least to me. Our friend and her daughter sat in the courtroom and listened to the "person" who raped the child, try and express his remorse and explain away his actions ( he spoke first). He never took his eyes off of the judge's bench, he never changed the inflection of his voice, not wavering, not angry, no detectable emotion. When my friend spoke, she gave a detailed accounting of what she understood, the why's and how's of coming to her opinion of the rapists' sentence and was heartfelt and upset as a good Mother should and would have been. 
This part was hard for me to watch. I saw a small slip of a girl, both trembling a…

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes

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Today marks one year since my best friend, Loray Robinson suddenly and unexpectedlypassed from this life. In some ways it feels like it just happened. In other ways, it feels like it's been decades since I heard her laughter. My heart is still just as broken as it was on that bright sunny morning last year. I would like to take the opportunity on this day to share with you the words I spoke at her funeral. If you knew Loray please take a moment today to honor her memory by showing someone an extra measure of kindness--be it a warm smile, encouragement, a cheerful salutation, or taking the time to thank someone for a job well done. Also, call your best friend...don't put it off. I was suppose to call Loray at 3pm the day she died. I never got the opportunity to make that call.






When I spoke with Loray’s sister Shirley Saturday night and she asked me if I would like to speak at this service today I immediately said yes, but when I hung up the phone I was absolutely panic…

Beauty in the Brokenness

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"When the Japanese mend broken objects, they aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold. They believe that when something has suffered damage and has a history it becomes more beautiful." ~Darla Jackson, Sculpturist

I was an inexpensive vase.  I was common and easily found, one might say, and no one had to look very long or very far or go out of their way at all to find me or one of the thousands that looked just like me.  You couldn't even tell us apart really. I didn't have any real characteristics that made me special.  Some might say I was useful--practical--I performed my job adequately.  I certainly wasn't unique or lovely, and you certainly could never describe me as "art". I was, for all intents and  purposes, disposable...easily replaced..."cheap".  Then one day the most fortunate series of events happened,  It started the day I was completely destroyed.  Broken beyond recognition.  Instead of being taken to the curb to be t…

I wish this would've been written for me (aka Fairy Tale, Lost)

A Conversation with Myself:

Broken hearts, when destroyed for no reason, have a way of twisting you on the inside. You lose a part of yourself. A piece of you dies and sometimes that piece festers and infects the whole of who you are. It can devastate your life, cause you to question reality...and especially yourself, (can I trust anyone?). You begin to question your own sanityIt haunts your existence and consumes your time and paralyzes you and renders you unable of giving the amazing amount of love that you thought you had to give to others who are so much more deserving.  But you find no love left--not even for yourself.  Not even for God.

"But it doesn't have to be this way...only if you let it" they say. "You're the better person, and there's a big world to make up for that small piece you lost" they say.

I guess that's true.  I guess it sounds like those are the right things to say..  But...God help me...I know I still wish this had been w…

Little Girl Lost

The following poem was written by my young friend Katie.  Katie has been, and continues to be, sexually, physically, and emotionally abused by people in her life who are suppose to protect her.  Will you please join me in praying for Katie and the thousands just like her who are wondering how they are going to make it though this day.

I love you Katie Girl and God loves you more.
xoxox


Cant be more broken whats left to destroy
because eveytime i end up someones toy

As much as i try to help others be set free
my regrets, abuse, and family all still torture me

I'm lost in this world and nowhere to be found
but at least i have jesus when im feeling down

I have learned to fight off the pain i have lived
and because of god and people that love me i can forgive

I realize now what i am worth
and all the things i can do to help fix this earth

I'm only 15 but im as strong as i can be
im no longer the victim i am set free

Thank you to those who help me get though
please know i love and care…