“Hope” is the thing with feathers -That perches in the soul – And sings the tune without the words – And never stops – at all”

—Emily Dickinson

Latest Posts


  • 10 Strategies for Making the Most of Every Day

      We start each day with hope. At least I do and most positive people I know do the same. There is an occasional "dreaded" day, but it is the exception and is usually combated by positive self-talk and prayer.… Continue reading

  • A Flair for the Dramatic

    That's Good!     God stepped out on stage And every member of the orchestra knew it was He. He took the baton in hand And breathed forth UPBEAT. Down came the baton DOWNBEAT. And the pattern was given With… Continue reading

  • Unmoved

    Just like a tree planted by the water, stay put,Panted but planted,Winded, but wind-filled,Weak, but strong,Depleted, but repleted,Drained, but refilled,Blown about, but never blown over.That is you.     Continue reading

  • The Part and the Whole

    Fearing God is not a negative when it is done rightly and when we embrace it as a response to His power delivered in love and grace. It is no more negative or frightful to fear God than it is… Continue reading

  • While Everything Quakes

    Tossed and swamped, and dramatized, Sleeps One who cannot be traumatized. Continue reading

  • Beyond Heroic

    These are says of heroic souls, Standing against tide, Swimming upstream, Living above and beyond definition, Out of the box, Off the charts, Resisting what is evil, Persisting in righteousness, Insisting on love, compassion, and justice, Subject to ridicule, Gallant… Continue reading

  • Known

    I know I am known and To be known Is to BE. It is not that I think and AM so much as I am thought of And am … And am invited To think and be and be Known. Continue reading

  • Us – The Unique You

    God hath not given The dreams of our days, Nor hath he driven Our lives in such ways, That we might obscure Our true nature and thus, Pollute what is pure And deny what is us. Continue reading

  • Hobo

    He wore yesterday’s garments And last weekend’s shave. He bunked with wild varmints Where he learned to behave. Some called him eccentric And others a hobo. His wrinkles, concentric From many a low blow. I think he was classic American… Continue reading

  • Bury Me

    Bury me not in a marble grave, No golden casket, nor gaudy cave, Dispose of me swiftly with some dignity, For you’re not entrusted with my destiny. Continue reading