“A room once cold and lonely is now a room of peace and rest”
Words of hope spoken from a child of once despair
Each time I walk into this room, it seems so bare and empty, but for a few pieces of furniture old and worn. The windows are closed, the curtains old and torn. It seems not a breath of air stirs, it is tired and lonely, from cares it has refused to share. It is in mourning, quiet and still,
Even the clock has stopped
ticking. It portrays a lack of honesty and wears a costume of despair. Whenever I venture in, it is difficult
to leave, locked inside with its loneliness, bound to its chair of self defeat. Whoever walks by, is sure it is doomed and shakes their head. One day I looked in a room beside it and saw something that might cheer it. Knocking on the door I asked, “Could you spare a bed with a blanket of comfort and a chest of hope, and some curtains to brighten the windows, I could wash the walls with a little soap and water?” It was happy to share these things! Now the hands of the clock are ticking, the sound comforting. Spools of yarn and threads of cotton have rewoven this room. And now I have a place of peace, where I can rest, and when people walk by, they sit for awhile and spin their tales, in a room that has plenty of room to share their stories!
Words of a child of God tempered with life’s experiences
I am made of clay, of colored Earth A vessel formed at the Potter’s Wheel Making me, baking me, Perfect and good ****** Fallen from the hand of the Potter I become marred, Taking His paddle with a Scoop of clay, tempering Me on His spinning Wheel, the process hurts The rotating force, the Circular motion making Me dizzy, The knife of the Potter Scrapes away the unneeded Clay, baking me again in The oven until I am done, A new vessel in the hand Of the Potter!
Her house is small sitting high on the city wall It has been a long night as soldiers sit about campfires quietly talking glancing at the house snickering and laughing Rahab the harlot lives here! Dawn begins to break as the last red glow of fire embers die to the earth She has had a hard time sleeping and rising early she veils her face, for no one should see this woman of disgrace as she runs along the wall and down the stairs into the cities streets Peering out the window where a red rose hung the night before she is anxious for she has a special errand to do, to replace this rose with a scarlet cord Dropping her few meager coins along the way, leaning down, quickly clutching them she runs over cobblestone streets into the very heart of this city still asleep The blue glow of the horizon gently fades in the distance as light softly appears She is headed for the market place just before dawn….
“The tree is decorated with sagebrush garland and colorful candies”…
Words of a mining town girl
Winter comes and it is Christmas time in the mining town A time for celebration a holiday parade is a lot of fun Those playing carols march down the street along with children singing and playing to the music’s beat Because there are no trees in the town the miners go up into
nearby mountains and cut a pinion pine The tree is decorated with sagebrush garland crepe paper bells and colorful bows Gathering around the blazing fire Jolly ol’ Saint Nick hands out gifts No one thinks about the hardships here when they have such a happy time as this Some towns are lucky they live close enough to cut a tree In one of the towns they live the tree is called the ‘never green tree’ where they make one with boards nailed together, or some find the largest tumbleweed and decorate with pretty ribbons and candies Snow begins to fall and they run inside where hot chocolate and gifts are given to all…
…The earth crumbled beneath our feet We felt the gusts of wind and ate the dust It took a lot of trust to live in a land like this Our mama loved us the best she could Everywhere she went we went too Taking us for a ride over hills bumps and ridges That would become bridges over time This is where we should have been in spite of misery and despair We were being prepared for the lessons of life It was a long way from LA for this girl and boy The circuits of our travels are telling a story One that unravels in time One hopefully that will help others on their travels as well!
My brother became a minister for God We were mercifully delivered and desire to help others who can relate to our story