I wrote the following after reading some content on my phone, in regards to animal abuse. From that my mind wondered to other kinds of abuse in our world. But prior to all of that, the word good was stuck in my mind. Then my daily reading for today mentioned the word goodness, saying to always look for goodness and mercy.. Here is what followed.
look and you will find, that there is good, there is good all of the time-there are good people who live every day, who do good-and if you watch, and hear what they say- and see how they give and not take away- but willing to help those in need-not swollen with pride, or tempted with greed-not rebellious at heart, but live life to care-so never think that goodness is never there-for the truth is that good exists, and is around- but is often not noticed and is very quiet in sound…
just maybe, there was something i missed
as a child, caught between happy moments
and sometimes being scared
just maybe, i longed for someone
to take notice, and to interact with me
and not be so busy
maybe, the early years
would have been different
that cold sharp tone
makes my bones shiver
i know now
that a heart is changed
when one recognizes
does not have
all of the answers
God help us
We are all infected and impure with sin. When we display our righteous deeds, they are nothing but filthy rags. Like autumn leaves, we wither and fall, and our sins sweep us away like the wind..
in the simple life I live, some days that is
i explore and look around
last week they caught my eye
and this is what i found..
to nestle in a flower
and sit contently for hours
maybe it was peering eyes of the intruder
that gave reason for hesitation
to leave it’s place of safety
on the high place
of a hollyhock plant…
i am looking for words
where did they go
they seem to have left me
i just don’t know..
i think they got sticky
and are stuck
maybe, they got run-over
by a big truck..
i hope i find them
or they find me..
i want to be wordier
with words flowing and free..
a torrential rain came down from my eyes
i had fought the tears for so many years
not wanting to go back to that moment in time
leaving home, angry, frustrated and hurt
i felt freedom at last
forgiving what i had considered unforgivable
loving the old man i was leaving
and looking forward to
when we would meet again..
It is time to link with the first Photo Challenge for the year at Daily Post..
Inga Larsson sipped the last of her tea. She savored each drop and she knew that she had a big day ahead of her. She had just returned from her beloved country of Sweden to say her final goodbyes to her dear mother. Though her heart grieved she had made a commitment to plan and prepare for the annual Christmas lunch at the Food Pantry. She would do her best to set aside sadness to fulfill her obligation. She still had to find a few more volunteers to decorate and someone to provide music for the festivities. While Hank Johnson was devoid of color in his life, Inga was all about color.
She would soon turn sixty-four and she vowed that she would never let age deter her from being active. As a retired nurse, it afforded her a comfortable lifestyle. Having never married, she traveled to far off places and wanted to experience as much as possible, but always with God’s final ok on her decision-making. She was not one to sit on the fence of life and watch it go by. It was December first and time to get cracking. Of all her years of eating oatmeal for breakfast seemed to give her enough energy to run miles around those half her age. She reminisced a moment about her lovely mother. She had been a woman of strength and character. She had a beautiful heart and had always given over and beyond when it came to helping those in need.
In her mind her mother was an angel. She glanced at the clock and realized that it would soon be time to meet with the director of the House of Hope and work out some of the details. She laughed as she looked at Mitt. Mitten had been a stray kitten that Inga had coaxed into her home by feeding her.
Mitten had brought her hours of entertainment, laughter and joy. Laughter to Inga was good medicine. She believed it would cure whatever ailed you.
A joyful heart is good medicine but a crushed spirit dries up bones.