Anger. Deep grief. Crying out. The pain is too much. The disappointment is too much.

We need a love story. Love stories. I keep praying, “God, please give us a love story so we have hope again. So we believe again.”

Turn off the electronics. Spend time talking with the people in front of me. Just smile. Just say hi. We are all afraid. Protecting ourselves. Hungry for hope.

I read that people in Puerto Rico are going outside and spending time with each other for the first time in years. Like in the old days. Does it have to get that bad for us to unplug?

We are distracting ourselves from feelings of overwhelming grief and helplessness. The bad people seem to have all the power. But that isn’t true. If God is for us, then who can be against us?

They are instigating wars for profit. A sick game of greed. I refuse to participate. I will not hate you because of your skin color or gender or age or nationality or religion. Etc.

Every seed of love is not planted in vain. It just takes time to see the harvest.

Pray. I’m reminded over and over again to pray. We obviously need answers and an intervention. What we are doing is not working.

Pray. I heard a story about George Washington Carver. He prayed for wisdom from God and was given over knowledge in regards to hundreds of uses for the small peanut.

What is heavy on your heart? Pray. Ask for wisdom. God has answers. He makes beauty out of ashes.


I had a maintenance man scheduled to come by today. No specific time. I woke up around 8am to be ready for him. But I couldn’t get it together. I was so tired from the days before.

I finally laid down on the sofa and passed out. Dreaming. Off in deep sleep. Everything I intended for the morning unfinished.

It was after 1pm when I finally awoke from my sleep. I lay there thinking I probably missed the guy. Then a knock on the door almost immediately. There he was.

After I let him in, an assurance from inside about other matters: “Rest, enjoy My rest.” Just because I don’t see anything happening, that doesn’t mean God isn’t at work. Or that He is late. Or that I missed Him. The promises of God are always on time.


“At every crossway on the road that leads to the future, each progressive spirit is opposed by a thousand men assigned to guard the past.” Maurice Maeterlinck

“‘Behold, I have made your face strong against their faces, and your forehead strong against their foreheads. Like adamant stone, harder than flint, I have made your forehead; do not be afraid of them, nor be dismayed at their looks, though they are a rebellious house.’ Moreover He said to me: ‘Son of man, receive into your heart all My words that I speak to you, and hear with your ears. And go, get to the captives, to the children of your people, and speak to them and tell them, “Thus says the Lord God,” whether they hear, or whether they refuse.'” – Ezekiel 3

New Clothes

I was wearing the same clothes all the time. They were very comfortable. My favorites. But they were falling apart. I kept hanging on. Excusing the holes. The broken clasps. I didn’t want to let go.

They were perfect for me when I first aquired them. But it took time to see that things weren’t the same anymore. Now I was in pain. They were no longer a part of my life. They were distracting me from life because of their state of falling apart.

All of a sudden one day I asked myself, why am I putting up with this? I have the ability to lay these clothes to rest and do what I need to do. Those clothes did their best. Better than expected. Better than ever before. But they were finally wearing out.

So I bought new clothes. Just a few at first. It felt too extravagant to move on too quickly. But after wearing the new clothes, I could hardly stand the old ones. I saved them for absolute last.

In short time after wearing the new clothes, I bought more. And was ready to more readily let go of more and more of the old.

There was risk. Would I like these new clothes as much as the old ones? What if they didn’t live up to the old ones? What if they didn’t last as long? What if they didn’t fit the same? Only a few turned out to be misses. Most turned out to be hits. Thanks to my old clothes, I new more and better what I wanted when looking for the new clothes.

Can’t put my new wine in old wineskins. Here’s to honoring the old. And courageously embracing new life.

Don’t Skip

“‘Don’t skip to the end.’ …we just can’t know… our brains fill in all the details, for good or for ill. We want to tell ourselves a story—any story—so we can get back to certainty… I am so desperate to know what’s going to happen. At least so I can prepare.” – Kate Blower


“he did it without knowing it would matter. He marched forward because it was the best he could do. …How do you stop? You just stop. You come to the end of yourself. And then you take a deep breath. And say a prayer. And get back to work.” – Kate Blower