Our Lotus Life

Our life is like the lotus flower,
Each year is like a single hour.
The petals slowly open up,
And we are given breath to sup.

We float in water, waiting birth,
To share our beauty in the earth.
While in the womb, we often sing,
And pop out with our leaves of green.

The God, who sends us, is waiting there.

Who tells us to cast, on Him, our every care,
And with His will, we tarry long.
'Till we return where we belong.

We're given years to equal petals.
Our hearts grow up among the nettles.
But we survive to seize the day,
When we apply His loving way.

The years pass by and as we fade,
The lotus once so gently made,
Has traveled through the thick of night,
To arrive in kingdom's joyful light.

We realized we never left.
The lotus was a short sweet breath.
Instead we are the light of Him,
Whose pool of life we live within.

Our Shepherd bids His garden grown.
He gathers us about His throne.
Our petals shine, there's no more strife,
Because of His redeeming life.

Sweet Beulah Land

Faith is the oasis I walk toward, to eliminate the worldly exposure of, “why bother? I hear that two word statement too often. I know it because I, myself, have said it, felt it, and cried it into my pillow! Why bother!?

There was a voice that kept giving me an answer, but I wasn’t hearing it. In fact I was a bit concerned about hearing any voice, given today’s agenda of misfit humans. Then one day I stepped into what I call, “my prayer closet,” and politely asked this voice to “explain or leave me alone.”

Don’t change the channel because you think I’m a preacher! One song sung in peace and reverence of G-d means more than any 2,000 word power sermon! I am the way I am because I have chosen a road that leads to that faith oasis.

I am an avid reader of “The King James Bible, version 1611” without a copyright. That means that the company that translated the original voices or languages did not add or take anything away from the 1611 version. That’s what I read. Why bother? Because I really believe there’s a power that’s running everything… He is the beginning of time and the end of time. There are no coincidences… everything is planned out from the beginning. Keep living, “it” will prove “it” to you.

Back to the closet: I had been reading my KJV1611 and noticed a set of verses about having a “prayer closet.” I was reading Matthew 6:5-8:
Verse five talks about being humble, not loud and proud to impress people.
Verse six says to enter your closet, shut the door, make your prayer secret to Him and He will openly reward you.
Verse seven says you can keep it short without vain repetitions, much speaking, and
Verse eight tells you to avoid being proud and that your Father knows what things you need, before you ask him. (All paraphrased)

Okay, so why bother with this? Remember I’m walking towards that oasis where the faith is kept. I didn’t know that the oasis was the faith. That place, that spot that you come to and you feel really content with a higher power running everything. You are no longer taking on the big role of “gotta do this, that, etc.” You are clearing your heart and mind to remain in this faith oasis. Old-timers used to say: “Sweet Beulah Land.”


Sweet Beulah Land

I'm kind of homesick for a country,
To which I've never been before;
No sad goodbyes there will be spoken,
Oh time won't matter anymore.
Beulah Land I'm longing for you,
And someday on thee I'll stand;
There my home shall be eternal,
Beulah Land sweet Beulah Land.
Well I'm looking for a river,
Where my faith will end in sight;
There's just a few more days to labor,
Before I take my heavenly flight.
Beulah Land I'm longing for you,
And someday on thee I'll stand;
There my home shall be eternal,
Beulah Land sweet Beulah Land.

A moment to share...

I was straight from the city, she was country and lore
With peanuts around her, did she have any more?
I watched her intently as each nut she’d toss,
Just missed hitting closely, I counted my loss.

Engaged her in chatting to distract her aim
And hopefully fetch what I craved for my game.
Two nuts would appease me, lasting all night
And try to nab one at the first ray of light.

She whipped out a baggie and placed nuts inside.
Not trying to be nosy, but where would they hide?
The season for harvest had been in late summer
I’d traveled around in my awesome green hummer.

The darkness unfolded I slipped past her tree.
A voice spoke behind and said, “You’ll need these.”
The baggie was full of the best tasting nuts
Now every fall season we fill up our guts!

Seek to help: G-d says when you help feed someone
It is as if you are feeding Him. Thank you,

Fire and Water

I searched for an example of “fire and water” and this photo hit the spot. Purple is one of those colors found to be annoying or is soothing. Yellow is the very complimentary color of purple, being opposite purple, on the art color wheel. There are several tones of yellow which help balance the presentation of the photo. Finally we have the huge display of lightning which picks up more yellow at the water’s edge. Then suddenly we have this almost white space of lightning, where the electrical discharge from the ground, is climbing into the sky.

Look carefully at the lightning’s center. Layer upon layer of color builds toward to you:

· wonderful sapphire at the water and horizon edge reflecting the glow of the lightning against itself
· yellow and green from the dock’s lights cast shadows into the lightning
· Finally the whipping motion of the lightning delivers pale lavender, pink, pink-white, then yellow-white.

The water appears rather calm and maybe that’s the reason why the sky appears on fire. The water has used many other colors to aid in its covert action. It’s a minimum to observe the water’s movement in the channel. The lightning appears to be the focus. The fact that it’s raining over some spots is missed as well by the casual observer. Additionally the lightning is from behind the western landmass, but appears to be biblical in presentation; lightning is discharged from the ground. A small boat, red light shining, hurriedly streams across the channel.

What happened to California dreaming?

Sometimes I wonder if the whole world is burning.
I wonder why the excessive rain doesn't dump onto the excessive fire. Or send it to a drought tortured country?

Makes me ask the question: am I living right? No and that's the truth. Some things I get right but other things still trip me up. I don't see myself as a mentor to be imitated, yet I look at all of the kids in my family and think: what about them? Who will they follow if there are no nice people left on the planet?

For that matter what about the kids in Zimbabwe? How much were they negatively influenced by the "uproarious" election?

How tired and hurt are the children of Dar Fur? How lonely, hungry, feeling unloved, feeling abandoned by family, country, and worlds of plenty? I can only briefly imagine their broken, contrite hearts as those U.S. ships pulled away. To think of that one act of unkindness rips me to pieces!

G-d speaks about those with a broken and contrite heart. You might want to look some words up.

Then again remember that golden saying: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Just try. Keep trying. One spark becomes a roaring flame. Got any dreaming to do? No, then help someone else to reach theirs.
dcrelief

Is it an ill wind or peace

You've likely felt a wind of change
and can we know it's total range
We'll have to wait for it's unfurl
In this small place or in the world

We need to know a way to peace
That gives us strength to fight the beast
A beast that suffers our life rent
A peace to guide or ill wind spent

Let voices shout and join awhile
With no more tears, just heaven's smile
Repent, be free of desires wthin
Uplift in peace your sad ill winds.

http://dcrelief.blogspot.com guest

The past that shaped today

I'm reading a book that is classified "fiction," but often that's not the case. This is my second reading of it; once in 1993. The contents are clearer and more true that then.

I found it dead on for the amount of adrenaline, restlessness, and anxiety I've had... for the last five years. It increases exponentially when I'm upset or worried. I don't know how to explain it.

At the same time I can become calm, like a sea foam skirting my skin as I lay somewhere on a beach. My mind becomes soothed by sunsets and sunrises; something about the pinks, yellows, and golds. There was one picture with a blue sky and strong white flash that sat me down for a long rest one afternoon. And all of these things are in this book. Not the same photos and paintings, but the evoking of the same moods.

Coincidences follow me like a bird in flight, encircling my life and I think to shrug them off. Only later do the strange coincidences occur... actually occur in my real life!

Right now I'm in a chapter that says I have to look at the thoughts and feelings of the millenium before our modern one. Looking to the past will help me know the general thinking of that generation... as they shaped the going forth of this one. It's a fascinating read. Be looking fo part two.


http://dcrelief/blogspot.com

A Rock Cairn Story: Fiction

I do not have any current stories on people using a rock cairn to guide them, so I have created one from my mind. Enjoy!

In 147 A.D. a small group of nomadic people moved across a great plane of harsh landscape. There were no trees; no grass; only dust and a dusty trail could be seen from my mountain top. I waited to welcome them. Toward the sunset they came and immediately rested at the small but deep well.

I was a scribe, a keeper of words, for my own people. I was amazed that they looked so much like my own people. Later by my small fire I would write, “How many people did God make?” Answer: He only made two complete people. So these people must be part of those same two people. I remained by the fire with some guards while these welcomed people were still climbing the rocks to safety for the night.

High in the sky was a full moon, and in the light I could see the cairn: strong, showing the way to our mountain pass. But it was tricky; you could not face it and find the pass. As scribe it is forbidden for me to share more, as those coming here must be hidden and protected. It is our duty and kindness to the maker of people.

The morning would come soon enough and I would like conversing with the leader of the people. His white robe has threads of blue and gold; is he a royal line? He commands his guard to remain off of the sacred mountain. They listen and enclose it as if a cherub has covered us all. It is said of old times that this mountain belongs to the maker of men. My royal guest says that all mountains and all lands belong to the maker as well; man has chosen to forget and that is folly. The maker will reclaim the earth and the meek shall inherit!

Just as the angels suffered the flood, the man shall have his suffering; then the maker will have His family of children to go forth. They will be His for all time; showing forth His creation, His G-d filled creation. The rock cairn will show the way. The end.

http://dcreliefblogspot.com guest

Out of One, Many

I enjoy the summer, and getting out in the yard to weed the stuff that grows the best. By far the easiest plant I deal with it this "Rose of Sharon." And at summer's end there are at least seven plants that have rooted from the main bush. So I transplant them all over the yard. They're all the same purple-pink color but that's all good. So you could say: out of one, many.

Hey, doesn't that phrase sound familiar? Like it's written on our money? I'm not even sure what that's about, but let me share something I recently read about. It will amaze some of you. Others will have already known, and, OH! the problem with trying to share new items of research.

I was playing on the Internet and typed in the following question: "where do white people come from?" Okay for those of you who just dropped your jaws, please pick them up because the answer is going to be important for you to remember... and you may need your jaw to drop again!

There were a great many websites sighted, so I went to the first one and jumped in. He was thorough and explained the DNA testing that accompanied the entire study which concluded: "Technically there is no such thing as 'white' people." He and his group have completely traced all "race" around the globe!"

I know you're not going to believe me so you go type the question in and read away. They'll tell you all about the sunshine you need, or too much of it; vitamin D and it's addition to foods.

I finally got tired of reading the exact same information from ten websites; all different professors, doctors, historians, archaeologists, paleontologists and ministers, priests, etc. There is no race; there is the creation of man KIND and WO-man KIND.

This is the same thing I was taught as a child, so where did these facts go? Further, I was told that as the creature MANKIND moved over the earth that DNA, reacting to various environments, created the various color differences. Melanin...skin pigmentation adaptations. Environmental influence on the DNA transferred from Mother to daughter.

Quite a shocker for those looking for their skin color to build your platform, base your life on, or be considered "better off". Some of you may even cry because your insensitivity regarding dangerous situations for people of color deserves redress.

Of course there's the off-chance that I have offended somebody. I hope so! $620 Billion dollars to build "star wars" and it does NOT work. (Rolling Stone May edition). Dar fur is dying.

http://dcreliefblogspot.com guest

A Sea with Life

A sea with life on every shore
So many rules that gut the core
The people bleed, their dreams seem lost
We make them pay with all the costs

Some die daily, others slowly die
I evoke one question: “could that be I?”
What rules prevent world tragedy?
While other rules give pageantry?

Could I be one who causes hate?
While choosing one I celebrate?
Please let the time be right I pray
Stand with one with changing way

We’re not all right, we’re not all wrong
Yet what we need is growing strong:
We need our studies to exercise care
Remove all blindness to do what is fair.

I’m sick that even God’s own rules;
Are trampled on by dogs with drool
Now I leave but know my heart
Is standing with the brand new start.

http://dcreliefblogspot.com guest

Who's handling world trade now?

Are we going to find out, via a document leak in twenty years the "proof" that this was an insider deal? And just how sweet was the deal?

I believe we already know but it's painful to think that we were scammed... so we don't think about it. We don't talk about it. We're scared of it and the people responsibile for it.

Part of security is taking notes, talking with people, collecting data and evidence; to set up the case which is to come. How fast did that metal move, having been sold, to China? Don't worry, we're going to the Olympics!

I listened to a tape recording made inside of the stairwell; the firemen are trying to get back down to the ground but all these incendiary devices are going off at every level. The tape wasn't hidden and can still be heard today, but not in a court of law, will it?

Meanwhile I'm wondering if this can be done and hidden in plain sight: who's handling world trade now?

The "Graceful" Gift

Silly nieces that give me the strangest but deserving gifts... like this one. Each niece picked a color for the bouquet and it really looked nice. On the card, I laughed as I read: "To Aunt D with love: the graceful gift."

Now you might think this is about my graceful poems, my graceful art, whatever, but these five sent a message of sheer delight, mimicking my graceful walk. So funny and out of the mouths of babes!

Fibromyalgia is an issue for me and has caused me to walk into walls, door jams, even closed doors; there's no discrimination!So it was a family gathering where the girls hanging out in the kitchen, when I walked into a BEAM in the great room. Standing alone, everyone could SEE IT... even I could see it. But I could not walk past it without walking into it. The story of my life: why miss it when you can muff it?

Later I wanted to photograph it but no one wanted me to stand in the chair to hold the camera, hmm, wonder why?

Giving

Today it's easier for me to give. Why? Because I've needed so much over the last twelve years and people have "been there" for me.

There was a time when the only thing that helped me was a trip to the coast; something about the sea and salt improved my life. But my husband did not love the coast but said he'd go for the golf at the Outer Banks. So OBX it was!

I like the sand and sitting out: hot, warm, cold days... whatever. I want the breeze to surround me, the salt spray to splash me and sand like silk between my toes!

So he got the golf cart, I got the blanket, and somewhere mid-afternoon we'd connect.

He's the most giving person I know; has stood by through some horrendous stuff, and sometimes I can't remember our marriage ten years ago. I get a bit lost and though it's not Alzheimer's it scares me just the same.

So if you read something and it sounds really strange... don't worry.. I am strange. It's perfectly normal. LOL

Living Cairns

A friend of mine is "gathering rocks for his cairn? I wondered what he was talking about.

There are several in this photo and long before I knew what they were called or what they were, I'd hiked the area. I remember thinking: maybe someone is gathering rocks to build a house! I could already visualize a stone chimney. Yes, I wanted to “gather rocks for my fireplace!"

Cairns can be found all over the world. They are used as grave markers, markers for the sun's solstices, mark paths to take, and maybe a shortcut to the local pond.
But my friend's story was to build a cairn of people; gathering people to work together in harmonious spirit.

The KJV 1611 version 'says that man does not know the way to peace.'

If we know peace then why has any war ever occurred involving my nation: America? We do not know it!

I'd better get back to gathering my rocks. I hope my friend is having some success with his. Caring people as living cairns showing the way to peace.

One slightly used Rose

One slightly used rose, she wrote in her ad,
And terribly meek, she wanted to add
But deep down inside, she wasn’t that meek
Just troubling and bubbling with flush on her cheek

The years have been fair and this is no lair,
It is only I, with time meant to share.
I’m soft but I’m rough with a life that’s been tough
I long for life’s fullness that begs ‘say enough’

The petals are going I feel them curl up
But I’ll have another enjoy my last sup
So please do not fear to wander in here
For the rose you would hold is wise and is dear.

An Oregon Sunset

Sometimes the sight of a place carries me to it, dragging me like a mouse across my computer pad! Graciously dropping me into the wet sand where I long to walk.

I can feel wetness of the sand between my toes; not too much as the sand becomes impacted, but dried in spots where the tide pulls away from the rocky shore.

Closer now I feel the mist and then wisps of the stronger water, against my face and body, washing in; a baptism in pure salt water!

My eyes are amazed at the combination of golds, oranges, blues, chocolates, and a subtle shadow of black on the inside of larger rock formations. And the sand in it's blandness mirrors the beauty of it all.

What a glorious surprise ending: the sun peeks through to say goodnight. He is yellow, a color for perfect breathing, orange for humanity, and only the sun knows how long he's been peeking through this formation. I cannot imagine it without him.

The Pelicans

There were eighteen flying
in a single row like a huge train across the skies...

dipping, swaying, hugging the coast.

Dolphins were churning the waves and a school of fish were trapped...

they all were fed.

I jumped to my feet, applauding their perfomance of grandeur...
but the sea roared a larger approval...

The first one to go

I wanted again. I wanted again. Within three months... I wanted again!

At least this one helped me de-focus on the main one.

My friend says, "you might as well obssess over 5-6, as much good as for one!"

So I have a plan. Out with the old, in with my new.

Always be the first one to go.

A place to belong

A place to belong...

tis heaven's song

When asked to go

make sure you know

That in your haste

you leave no waste

and love abides in every space.

The Fields of Kandahar

The old man walked; not in a feeble way
To pluck the plants that must be shipped today.

He hates the act that they’ll be sold
To greedy men who think they’re gold.

The stems so green to reach the sky
He’ll cut in half and half will die.

But oh the pain left to the flowers
Their petals crushed for many hours.

The old man’s tears stream down his face.
What G-d gives us they’ve laid to waste?

I say no ill for G-d is judge
Please let me live without a grudge.

Give me strength to use the calm
And voice to sing your every Psalm.


“The Fields of Kanadhar”
Afghanistan 2002