Father Hold Your Daughter

Father, will You come hold Your daughter again
Let me lean upon Your chest to feel Your comfort
Father, will You gather all my tears
Save them in Your hands for Your purpose

And as I walk with You
And as I talk with You
I want to know the secrets of Your heart

Father, will You teach me to walk in Your ways
Holding my hand so I won’t fall again
Father, will You be the strength I need
Showing me my weakness, humbling me

And as I walk with You
And as I talk with You
I want to know the depths of Your love

Too Many Questions

I touch the keys to play a private song while I look out the window at the fog hiding the details of the world. My tea grows cold on the counter as I continue growing restless. My comfort is being shifted but I have no definitive proof for why. I have forgone any music charts and instead put my bible in front of me. I keep looking at the words before me, encouraged to meditate for answers. The questions themselves seem too many.

The Scoring Card

What if we came face to face with the reality that in this life we may not be able to even the scores? Someone did us wrong and maybe we even loved that person. Would the wound scar us so badly we’d live the rest of our life nurturing the pain until it became a cancer? Letting the pain eat away at what was once healthy love, leaving only bitterness and anger. When we reached the end of our days, what regrets would we have at how precious time was wasted?

Sometimes giving someone a “pass” is not saying they didn’t do you wrong; it’s giving yourself a “pass” so you can keep your love alive. It’s choosing to leave the scoring card in higher hands.

Come Back To Me

Come back to Me….

I walked away ignoring the plea. My anger festering within drew me out into the night. The air was cold and I walked alone. The streets were bright with neon signs trying to pull me into places I could spend time and money, where I could spend myself. Eventually I opened a door and walked into the dark interior. Now and again I could still hear the plea, “come back to Me” in quiet moments. Anger held its grip upon my heart and I would ignore its voice.

Decades later I lay beside Your voice and wondered at Your message offering to take me back. When I looked into Your eyes I could see an acceptance I’d never known. My anger began to give way to hope. The invitation came again, “come back to Me”. I looked at my dim surroundings and made a choice to open the door leading into real light. You were faithful to Your invitation and took me back.

Old Fashion Love Songs

In the poetic confessions of my heart; I become filled with love and hope. Although I begin to type other words, a song begins to play in my mind. I ignore it at first, but eventually it consumes my thoughts. I don’t know the song well, but a chorus keeps playing over and over, “just an old fashioned love song”. I have to find it and when I do, I begin to laugh….

Just an old fashioned love song

Playin’ on the radio

And wrapped around the music

Is the sound of someone

Promising they’ll never go

Just an old fashioned love song

Comin’ down in three part harmony

One I’m sure they wrote for you and me  *

I am enamored of the “old fashioned love song” written for me long ago.

* Lyrics by Three Dog Night, Old Fashioned Love Song


As the night draws deeper in hour, we strive to settle ourselves.

Inventorying our days, we come to the reality of time spent.

Miracles & Healing

They came in off the streets. They were desperate for what was being offered. Miracles and healing. Some came from a distance, others from nearby. All wanted to know if it could be true? Were miracles and healing still done today?

I watched as people were healed of back pain, knee pain and gum pain. There were miracles of short legs grown out, arms realigned and blind eyes saw again.

I had come knowing the answer was always “yes” and I went home rejoicing that many others now had the same answer.

Better Eyesight

When I can look at someone and ‘only’ see their potential, then maybe?…I’ve matured some? Until then, I know I need better eyesight!

The Scepter

The scepter was within the hands of the fair maiden. She admired its beauty and adornment. Nothing more precious did she carry in all her possessions. She knew its value. It had been given to her by the King of princes. The King had instructed her to carry her scepter wherever she went and not to put it down. In the night she was to keep it beneath the pillow where her head lay.

One night the fair maiden began to dream. A court jester was dancing before her eyes. His costume was made of the finest linens. He was talented and graceful in his dance. With each circle of movement the jester drew closer to the maiden. His smile was inviting and friendly. He soon began to invite the fair maiden to dance with him. At first she resisted his invitation, but he was relentless for her to come out upon the floor with him. Reaching to her with both hands the fair maiden could feel the attraction to want to join in the dance.

She started to lay down her scepter that her hands would be free to twirl with the jester, but an ache arose deep in her chest. She took her eyes from the dancing fool before her and looked carefully at her precious gift. Remembering the King’s instructions she wrapped her arms tightly about the scepter. Her aching chest filled with contentment once more.

Lifting her eyes she saw the jester anew. He was filled with anger at her refusal to dance. His appearance changed from beauty into darkness. His smile turned into a leer and his graceful dance became a taunting insult. Closing her eyes the fair maiden awoke from the dream. Her King touched her cheek and again handed her the scepter.