"We should not strive to have the name of God on our lips every moment. We do not need to talk about God constantly so much as to live in Him, so that His name lives in every part of our life.
Even though we may not be talking about God, or consciously acting as His spokesman at a particular time, we must act on every occasion as if God is actually using us as His mouthpiece in our words and deeds"..........Laszlo Tokes
DECEMBER 2012 PLEASE COPY AND PASTE THIS LINK. IT WILL TAKE YOU TO A POEM BY MY FRIEND JOHN MICHAEL DOMINO. AT THE BOTTOM OF HIS POEM IS A LINK I HOPE YOU WILL VISIT. IF YOU FEEL A LACK OF CHRISTMAS SPIRIT, I THINK THIS WILL BRING IT BACK IN FULL! HERE'S JOHN'S PAGE:
NOW BACK TO MY BIO.....
The first piece of writing I remember was in 4th grade. My story was called "Phillip's Christmas Present." The teacher liked it so much she asked to keep it.
Being Editor of the school newspaper in high school gave lots of opportunities to write, but I have to laugh at the poems I wrote then.
When I became a Christian, I began to write a lot more, and God is still the inspiration behind most of my poems and stories.
Enjoy reading the few samples I've included here, and hopefully, you will be blessed (and want to read more)!
It's December, 2012. Today, I'm adding the poem that is most read of any I've ever written, including "Cold Facts About Snowmen," which was the most-read poem last year. May this poem, a product of my imaginings, bless each who reads, and remind you that every day is a celebration in heaven!
Birthdays are big days on earth; I wonder what they're like in heaven. How about this?
Birthday in Heaven
It’s your birthday up in heaven,
And I’m wondering what you’ll do.
Will there be a celebration
And a cake to honor you?
Are the kitchen angels busy
Breaking eggs and sifting flour?
Is the angel choir practicing
As it gets close to the hour?
Is there ice cream made from snowflakes
And some candy made from clouds?
Will it be just you and Jesus,
Or all the happy crowds?
I won’t be there to hug you
Or to count and pull your ears,
And I’m sure I’ll feel lonely
As I shed some birthday tears,
But I know your heavenly birthday
Will be your best one ever!
Just remember, I still love you --
On your birthday, and forever!
Like a rosebud I tenderly formed you;
Each petal I touched with My grace.
In colors of infinite beauty,
Your spirit reflecting My face.
A rosebud is sought for a season,
While beauty and fragrance remain,
But unfading beauty adorns you,
Who trust and abide in My Name.
Come, walk with Me closely, My child,
Your heart with My heart intertwine;
Come, bask in the fragrance of Jesus,
Till all the world knows you are Mine.
". . . . the fragrance of the knowledge of Him"
(2 Corinthians 2:14 NIV)
She was only a frail woman
in a body weak and worn,
but she had a warming smile,
and a song of praise each morn
"No Bible? Then, no breakfast!"
was her self-inflicted rule;
To her, the Holy Bible
was as priceless as a jewel
And the little children loved her
as they gathered all around;
In her quiet, gentle manner,
a caring friend they found.
She taught the neighborhood youngsters
to memorize God's Word,
then they went along to church with her -
such was her reward.
In front of all the church-folks,
the children would stand in a row,
all the verses she'd taught them to know
While their happy, glowing teacher
beamed upon them in her joy,
sharing in her Lord's approval
of each precious girl and boy.
She was frugal to the penny
and "as skinny as a rail,"
but to share her meager offerings,
she was never known to fail
For each child she put out a saucer,
preparing with heartfelt pleasure;
On each one, a Macadamia nut --
to the children, it was a treasure
Her influence still lives on today,
though she's now in glory-land,
and the children still remember
what she seemed to understand:
Though you're young, or poor or frail,
God will bless you by His grace,
for His Father-love is greater
than the trials that you face;
And a cup of water given
in the Savior's loving Name
will bring overflowing blessings
worth far more than earthly fame.
"For whosoever shall give you
a cup of water to drink
in My Name,
because ye belong to Christ...
...he shall not lose his reward."
Billl and I have been married almost 53 years. The statistics are: both married at age 19 (he's 3 months older than I am) 5 children--4 daughters and 1 son, 13 grandchildren + 3 step-grandchildren. After our son was born, it seemed appropriate to let him be the caboose!
When we were dating, "Our Song" was To Know, Know, Know Him Is to Love, Love, Love Him.
I wrote "Old Love, The Best Love" to celebrate our 50 years together: It was published in the magazine "Bread and Molasses." and later also was part of John Usalis' column "Wandering" in the Shamokin News Item.
Old Love, The Best Love
In the blush of first love, this wonder you will find:
Young love is discovery, filled with promise of youth.
Boundless, fulfilling, young love is so exciting,
But listen, my young friend, hear the wisdom of truth.
In the warmth of old love, this wonder you will find:
Old love is secure love, steadied by thye years;
Tempered in the fire, in God's love-glow purified,
Memories pervading, shared joys and mingled tears.
Old love is a strong love, forged by firm commitment;
Knowing one's thoughts before they are said aloud,
Friendship, two facing each challenge as one unit;
Finding that dear face in the midst of any crowd.
If you are discovering the joys of a young love,
I'm happy for you, and I pray God will bless;
If you remember love grows with unselfish giving,
Someday you, too, will know that old love is best.
This one is for you:
Greeting for You
I cannot come to visit you --
I rarely drive the car.
I cannot walk to your house --
For me, it's just too far.
But one thing I know I can do
even as I sit at home --
I'll pick up paper and a pen
and write for you a poem!
A friendly smile and happy thoughts,
especially penned for you.
I'll write some love, include a hug,
to cheer you when you're blue.
I'll add a tea bag and I'll say,
"Let's drink a cup 'round seven."
Together-apart, still one at heart,
let's praise our God in heaven.
Even better than a visit,
a poem you'll tuck away
to remind you someone loves you
so much more than words can say!
Did I hear someone say, "God is just a crutch"?
MY WHEELCHAIR, (i.e. "Jazzy," "Hoveround," "Scooter")
You say God’s a crutch;
You’re correct, I agree --
He’s my constant companion
Who’s always here for me.
I don’t need to worry
or fret all the time --
God is my “Hoveround”
Ever present, He is mine.
When I feel depressed
From the cares of the day,
He is my “Jazzy,”
Who “Scoots” the gloom away.
He’s my unfailing wheelchair
Who carries me around;
He strengthens my soul
When fierce trials abound.
When friction has wounded,
And I’m weakened within,
He draws near to help me
As I lean hard on Him.
He’s not just my crutch,
He’s my doctor, my nurse;
My caring God and Savior,
He’s almighty and diverse.
So call Him my crutch
Or whatever you will.
Till the end of my days,
I'll be trusting Him still!
“I am the vine; you are the branches.
If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit;
apart from me you can do nothing.”