The Scarlet Cord

“A Woman Of Faith”

Her house is small, sitting

High upon the city wall

It has been a long night

As soldiers sit about campfires

Glancing at her house

Snickering and laughing

Rahab the Harlot lives here!

Dawn begins to break as

The last red glow of embers

Die to the earth

She peers out her window

Where a red rose hung the

Night before

Rising early, veiling her face

For no one must see this woman

Of disgrace

As she runs along the wall, down

The stairs into the cities’ streets

She is anxious

For she has a special errand to do

To replace this rose with a scarlet


Her form silhouetted against the

Breaking light

Clutching her meager coins

She hastens on

Over cobblestone streets into

The very heart of the city

Still asleep

The blue glow of the horizon

Gently fades in the distance

She is headed for the market

Place just before dawn

…the noise is loud, people

Selling goods, people

Praying, children crying,

Animals brawling

Quietly slipping

Through the crowds going

To market, to secure a cord

Of scarlet…

Tables laden with fruits

Pomegranates in rich red hues

Spices from the East, dates and

Raisin cakes, amongst onions

And leeks, lentils and beans

And loaves of bread, colorful

Skirts, sandals and shoes, young

Girls dancing to the fiddle and flute

But these are not what she is

Looking for

Among all of these

Wares, a simple scarlet cord is

Her desire and prayer

Tighter yet, holding her veil

Against her head, she slowly

Drifts from table to table,

Quietly bearing the shame of

Her reputation

The best threads must be

Purchased to fill this need

That she and her family may

Be spared

Threads of scarlet interwoven

With gold…

Even as a little girl,

Watching her mother do her

Trade, she had wanted

Something better

When she had become older

She had continued what had

Been handed down from

Mother to daughter

Looking down, one table

Catches her eye, there lies a

Cord, just the right one, coins

Tightly held are released and

She hurry’s back home…

The sun is rising, the sleeping

City awakens, as she passes

Worshippers climbing steps to

Strange altars, bringing food to

Appease their gods

Garlands of flowers to hang on

These idols, breads and fruits

To place by their sides…

She has never felt at ease, even

As a little girl, kneeling before

These gods with closed eyes,

Who cannot see, trying to please

Them with words and prayers

They don’t hear or answer

Arriving home, the cord is

Placed in the window, showering

Grace for those to see…

For just the night before God

Had sent His spies to capture

Her city, but the scarlet cord

She dutifully hung in her window

When soldiers passed by

Saved Rahab and

Her family

A woman of disgrace had become a

Woman of faith!

Excerpts from the book ‘The Scarlet Cord’

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Look Unto The Hills

“The Hills Will No Longer Be Hidden From View”

It is a clear day today and the

Sky is blue, the air clean

Only in the distance is the haze

That our inversion brings

But from the last few weeks we know

The prevailing winds will once

Again bring about the stifling

Smoke and impending heat

The hills and mountains will

Be hidden from view

Upon this city that never seems to


Wondering at this phenomenon

Millions of acres

Burned to the ground

And shaking our heads

What more can come?

The spread of disease

The elections near

Some leaders disclaim and berate

The illness plaguing

Our lives

Refusing to listen to the cry

Of doctors and nurses

Doubting those who

Have suffered and died

Crooked politics, justice

And truth falling in the


As a great king of old

Haughty and proud,

Was given the writing on the


“You are weighed in the balance

And found wanting”

Could this nation be weighed

And found wanting too

As we have strayed from

Justice and right?

The ravished trees, parched

And dry, like a tender box


Creatures have no perch

To raise their fledglings

To rest their wings, for the

Branches are missing

Yet unlike us when tragedy

Comes and into despair we


They spread their flight to

Brighter spots

Nature’s force cannot be stopped

But we still have hope

The shrubs consumed will

Blossom again

The trees their flower will

Bear fruit

In all of these things we have

The promise

That once again our earth

As we know will be restored

The blade of grass pushing up

Through dust and ashes

The grain of wheat will

Bring bread to our tables

But if in fact this is not to be

And all of what we have hoped

Does not come to pass

There is the promise through

Faith, a new earth

Will appear

Though I cannot see it now

As the Psalmist has written

I will

“Look unto the hills from

Where comes my help, my

Help comes from the Lord

Who made heaven and earth”

With a tangible eye I cannot

See it now

The hills hidden from view for

All the troubles I have

Will one day appear when the sun

Breaks through

And I will be glad

For there is a God in

Control of all of these things

*Book of Psalms chapter 121

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“Delivered From The Furnace Of Affliction”

My emotions seem to be expressed

In dreams. Just the other day, on a

Saturday afternoon, a man knocked

Loudly at my door claiming to represent

One of the utility providers. I didn’t

Answer the door but spoke through the

Window. I knew it wasn’t true.

I have had several people knocking in the middle

Of the night which is even more frightening than

During daytime. I went to bed feeling uneasy.


In a state of exhaustion from

A night of fears

Nightmares and dreams and

Every conceivable thing

Laying asleep

On my bed of infirmities

I beheld a basket descending

Full of every vile imagination

Of lust and sin

Terrified I was forced to face


Jealousy and pride, anger and


About to consume me when it

Brought to mind

The command to Peter of old

‘Rise and eat’

My answer and plea

“But of these things I have no

Power or control’

Sweetness has turned to bitterness

Only a Power from above can

Eat and destroy these things

That torment me night and day

That which has been hidden with

Greed and deed

These things are distasteful

I look to you Lord to take them


But his reply

“A furnace of affliction I have

Prepared for you

That these may be consumed

With fire and flame

From the chain of abuse

And disgrace

You have born

Then you will be set free

And delivered


Once again I fell asleep

Another dream appeared

My body cringed and

Sweat upon my brow

Reluctant to allow such

A frightful scene

Shuttering at this sight

I am placed in

A sepulcher of death

A mass is said!

Choirs in lofts sing in lamentations

Drums pounding expressing

The grief for another child

Taken by the thief

Solemness so deep only

‘Amen’ is said

In a Latin dirge a litany is



An allegorical dream

I lay in a coffin


I am unchained from this

Earth with an early death

The black hearse rolls

Before the cathedral


Carrying my body in repose

A red rose has been

Placed above my breast

There is silence but for the

Cloven hooves of horses

As they move on cobblestone

Streets bearing my body

Shaded windows keep

Me from the inquisitive eye

Priests in black robes file

Down the road carrying

Censors sweetening the

Death ridden air

Followed by monks pressed


As they further their quest

Claiming my life

Posting upon the cathedral


A rusty nail placing me in

A death ridden jail

All again is silent but the

Shuffle of feet

Chanting their venomous song

“Who will win this battle for this


“Who will prevail?”

Angels answer

“Jesus! He is the victor

Over death!”

“Victory is won!”

“Oh death where is your


“Salvation he brings!”

“She shall dwell among

The living!”

I am released from this

Body of death

For pity and sorrow I repent

Words ascending filling the

House of God with crescendos

The veil has been lifted

Rising above my

Sackcloth and ashes

From my frame a black dress

Has fallen

Naked before him

Waiting to be clothed

He has claimed my attire

At the cross

Hell’s flame has no more


My name embossed in

His book of life

Stepping out of this body


An ‘Allegorical Dream’
Is taken from the book
‘Weeping Child to Forgiving Child’

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More love letters…

“You Would Have Been Proud Of Me”

Well after my visit, I went back

Home and as usual we began

Moving around from town to


Schools had rules and I had to

Relearn each one.

I got into trouble Daddy, when

I came back, I started chasing

Around, doing stupid things

That you can only do in a mining

Town, with gambling, bars and


Those evil men did things to me

That were not right.

Many times I was up all night,

Often there was no food. Sometimes

If I was lucky a can of Dinty Moore

Stew would do.

I’m so glad you didn’t know this,

Your heart would have been broken

In two for all your child went


But I wouldn’t be honest if I denied

My anger. Where were you when

I needed protection from danger?

But Daddy, you would have been

Proud of me, I learned to survive,

It is amazing what children can do

When they try.

I tried many things to protect myself.

They were not the smart thing to

Do, but it was all I knew.

I developed a set of rules to deal

With the craziness of things.

I somehow got through the years

But there were many tears.

I had difficulties with Mama. She

Was unbearable to live with and

I wanted out of the trauma.

She kept going into those

Buildings with flashing lights for

Hours. I stared in the windows

Waiting for her to come out, but

She would never

Win those games she played,

Even though she would go every


I thought the way was to get

Married at sixteen, and before you

Knew it I had two children, living in

A mining town.

But I knew in my heart I would

Never raise them like me.

Well, this is pretty long and you have

Bent your ear to hear this story.

You know Daddy, I really

Appreciate you listening now, since

You didn’t hear or see me when I

Was a child.

Oh, and one thing I forgot to mention,

There will be mistakes in these

Letters, since they are written from

A little girl’s heart, even though I’m

A grown up now.

I know you loved me Daddy, you just

Didn’t know what to do, your illness

Kept us apart.

Well I will visit you again soon, I have

Much more to say to you!

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Heavenly Love And Hugs

“I Knew You Loved Me Even Though As A Child I Didn’t Understand”

One of the things I remember distinctly when I would

Visit my father, even with his state of alcohol consumption,

He would hug me so tight it almost squeezed the breath

Out of me. I knew he loved me but as a child I could not

Understand why he would not let me stay with him, that

He had a devastating illness.

When I went home, if only I could have stayed with him

Things would be alright.

With my brief visits I would leave in tears. Over the few

Years of course, he died much too early.

And then my fixation began to find him through many

Things to fill the longing of love I so desperately needed.

I had written ‘the love letters’ four years ago under

Very difficult circumstances, but finding it a cathartic experience

In some ways.

Several times I have reviewed them and thinking maybe I had all

The resolution I needed.

I know I wrote them in a rather crude fashion, but then my

Experiences were crude.

Then as I am reviewing them once again to post, hoping they would

Be helpful for someone, I find that there is still healing effects.

Just last night I awoke with a dream that my father appeared and

Wrapped his arms around me, something I have longed for and I

Excitedly called my brother to come and also receive our father’s


The remarkable part of all this, is as a young adult I was

Converted to Christianity,

Seeking solace for the missing father in my life. I shared this with

My brother and he also received the invitation to accept a Father

Who desires to wrap His arms about us with heavenly hugs far

Beyond what we were denied as children.


And I will continue to post some of the ‘letters’ that explain
The process and struggles that were necessary to replace
my earthly father image with an ever present Father.

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letter of innocence…

“I Discovered A Letter I Had Written To My Mother”

My stay in the hospital, in some ways was

Difficult, for when a person

Attempts to take one’s life, you are not your


They had a seventy two hour hold on me,

After that my release was determined by

Doctors and therapists.

But in some ways it was beneficial, for I

Was required to start medications,

Attend group therapy, psychological

Evaluations, creative arts with teachers

Urging me to develop another side of myself,

Rather than the one which was lost,

The one I had ignored…


There was a letter I had found, that was

Stored in a box of keepsakes I had written

To my mother long ago.

A time when I loved her even though she

Had many deficits and short comings.

And then as I grew older I could see the error

Of her ways, and my little child within broke away.

Now I was forced to face this division that

Had been brought to my attention…

At the release from this place of intensive

Inner healing…

I looked around the corner

And saw her

She was still there waiting in


For my child had never

left me

She knew it would take time

To heal

Our separation would be restored

And finally come to fruition

She knew my struggles

And troubles

Urging me to trust, to believe

Our reunion was slowly

taking place

Darkness turned to light

Sadness turned to


No longer crying her eyes

Are shining

She appears with a smile

Asking me to dance

To soothing music she comes

Before me

With her tambourine and

Sandaled feet sweeping

Across the floor

Taking my trembling hand

We begin to dance

And laugh


As I begin to move the music

Becomes louder

Becoming faster my head

Begins to spin

Feeling and emotions are


Collapsing on the floor

I become

aware of emotions


Anger and rage are revealed

Waiting to be released

Tired I drop, a little lighter…

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A love letter to Daddy…

“The Little Child In Me Had To Rewrite What She Had been Taught”

Back into the world of therapy and recovery,

There needed to be a reconciliation.

I had to recreate an image that I imagined

In my mind, the one as a child that I had

Developed, one that was

Unhealthy and deceiving. Why I loved my

Father deeply, when he was not around,

And when he was he was inebriated and

Unapproachable, I don’t understand. It was

Now time to recreate a healthy Father image.

I have written a book called

‘Love Letters To Daddy’ letters that had

To be written before I could let go of the

Old and grasp the New…


Daddy you were bombed last night!

Walking into the kitchen the

Morning after, light reflects you

In the breakfast nook, as I quietly

Enter to see if you are alright.

You are hiding behind the newspaper

And unable to notice your daughter.

Alcohol vapors sting my nose, you don’t

See me, as if I don’t exist.

Oh Daddy, you were the one

With the clickity-click-click of the

Tongue and the crazy songs you sung.

Where did Mama go? I think she got

Tired and left.

I remember her pouring water from

Bottles down the drain, but it had

A funny smell, I couldn’t really tell.

Who is this strange lady in your

House, the one wearing a blue

Negligee, you both swing and sway

From room to room, then pass out

On the bed.

Sounds of heavy breathing are

Alarming, I am confused and don’t

Know what to do.

Viciousness in the kitchen the day

You staggered across the kitchen


A pressure pot of beans exploding

On the ceiling sending you to the

Hospital reeling.

I begged you not to drink, but you

Once again began to sink, I’m sorry

Daddy I made you drink.

Well, my visit with you is almost done

And my time is spent, I will soon be

Sent away.

Really Daddy, will you send me back

To those abusers and their evil ways?

Aww, please, why do you let them

Do this to me? I really don’t think I can

Take much more.

Oh, don’t make me leave, don’t make

Me go back to that smelly shack.

Your pungent smell of vinegar, cukes

And alcohol are better than that.

But my pleas were ignored, you were

Just too sick to have me around.

That fifth of whiskey made you awful

Thirsty as you hid the bottles in

Cabinets and drawers.

Remember how you swerved on those

LA freeways taking me to the bus,

Without a sound between us ?

The roar of the engines and exhaust

Fumes making me sick, carry me to

A place I would rather not go.

Finally climbing the steps, crying,

Unaware of the effects on an innocent

Child from no where.

Well Daddy I remember these

Things whether you do or not so I am

Writing these letters in hope to be

Freed of the pain that was caused!

A continuation of my love letters to daddy

To follow…

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“Writing To Survive This Illness Is Helpful And Healing”

To honor this month of September, in recognizing

’Suicide Prevention’ I have shared my story,

Hoping to give those who may have attempted to

Take their life or have family or friends who have

Been successful to this painful illness. I would

Like to encourage those who have experienced

Any one of these losses, or your attempt, to share

Your story. There is healing and help!


The door closes behind me

I am released

From the hospital

Back into the world of


I feel the warm sun on

My skin

Breathing fresh air

Hearing the sounds of


Speeding by

The sound

Of an airplane

The whistle of the train…


Will I succeed in facing

The world

With nerves on edge from


And sedation?

I have reservations as I leave this


This place of security

Will I make it with my


The world had gone without


Not knowing or caring why

I had left

I had been among people

Who were

Struggling, trying to survive

I did not quite understand


Tight hold on life

With my stay the track of

Time emptied

Into the distance

No one understands the

Apprehension I feel

Can I do this, can I make it

In life?

This is the time I must


To remember I am not alone

Nor forsaken

I will be alright!

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I was done…

“Placed In A Resting Place”

I was done…

Or so I thought, it was just too much, I no longer

Wanted to stay, but to enter a place where I

Would not think the thoughts that plagued

Me night and day…

And then I awoke to the sound

Of the ambulance, the swift movement of tires

Pounding the pavement, to faces hovering above

Me calling my name, then resisting their words

That faintly echoed, I fell into unconsciousness…


I had entered a place of


Placed in a resting place

Beneath white lilies

And a green mossy


My body once shrouded

In garments

Of darkness

Now covered in white


My eyes no longer


Upon my chest my arms


No longer beating my


With the tilt of my head to

The side

All thoughts are emptied

Now where

Will the antagonists


No longer will I entertain

The sufferings

That caused me such


But in this state of peace

I cannot linger

I am awakened to the

Call, it is not time for me to go…

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