He Walked Beside Me

I wrote this poem for a local contest here in town, and received a letter today telling me it was now in the semi finals. I thought I would share it with you.

Shadows bouncing from the trees
Smell of earth under my feet
Darkness stands all around
I am not alone, for I am with thee.

I am forgiven, I am l loved
I live each day with his holy grace
When I sin, I look towards him
I ask forgiveness from above

He has a plan perfect for me
He wants me to complete
If I fall, he picks me up
And lights the path for me to see.

He came to me one peaceful night
And whispered in my ear
He told me, child you have done good
Now come with me into the light.

Mom’s Empty Chair

I received this from a wonderful friend this morning, and I thought it was so good, I asked if I could share. Here it is.

MOM’S EMPTY CHAIR… This is a beautiful story …
A woman’s daughter had asked the local minister
To come and pray with her mother.
When the minister arrived,
He found the woman lying in bed with her head
Propped up on two pillows.
An empty chair sat beside her bed.
The minister assumed that the woman
Had been informed of his visit.
“I guess you were expecting me”, he said..
“No, who are you?’ said the mother.
The minister told her his name and then remarked,
‘I saw the empty chair and I figured you knew
I was going to show up.’
‘Oh yeah, the chair,’ said the bedridden woman.
‘Would you mind closing the door?’
Puzzled, the minister shut the door.
‘I have never told anyone this,
Not even my daughter,’ said the woman.
‘But all of my life I have never
Known how to pray.
At church I used to hear the pastor
talk about prayer,
But it went right over my head.’
I abandoned any attempt at prayer,’
The old woman continued,’
Until one day four years ago,
my best friend said to me,
Prayer is just a simple matter
Of having a conversation with Jesus
Here is what I suggest.
‘Sit down in a chair;
Place an empty chair in front of you,
And in faith see Jesus on the chair.
It’s not spooky because he promised,
‘I will be with you always’.
‘Then just speak to him in the same way
You’re doing with me right now.’
‘So, I tried it and I’ve liked it so much
That I do it a couple of hours every day.
I’m careful though.
If my daughter saw me talking
To an empty chair,
she’d either have a nervous breakdown
Or send me off to the funny farm.’
The minister was deeply moved by the story and
Encouraged the old woman
to continue on the journey.
Then he prayed with her, anointed her with oil,
And returned to the church.
Two nights later the daughter called
To tell the minister that her mama
Had died that afternoon.
Did she die in peace?’ he asked.
Yes, when I left the house about two o’clock,
She called me over to her bedside,
Told me she loved me and
kissed me on the cheek.
When I got back from the store
an hour later, I found her.
But there was something strange about her death
Apparently, just before Mom died,
She leaned over and rested
her head on the chair
Beside the bed.
What do you make of that?’
The minister wiped a tear from his eye and said,
‘I wish we could all go like that.’
Just send this to four people or more,
And do not break this, please.
Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive.
I asked God for water,
He gave me an ocean.*
I asked God for a flower,
He gave me a garden*
I asked God for a friend,
He gave me all of YOU…
If God brings you to it,

He will bring you through it.

Happy moments, praise God.
Difficult moments, seek God.
Quiet moments,worship God
Painful moments,trust God
Every moment, thank God.


Praying for help

Praying for help (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This morning I woke early. the daylight was just beginning to appear. I felt shame as soon as my brain allowed me to begin thinking. I am ashamed because I am weak. I must be playing games with myself, believing to be this strong christian woman, but showing the world that I need help and prayers. Instead, I should be on bent knee, with silence all around, talking to God, and letting him know how I feel. Asking him for a miracle, or an understanding of why this is happening in my brother’s life. I go through out my days, talking to God like he is my best friend. Many times I do not start out our conversations with Dear Father. I start them like I would if you and I were sitting here sharing a conversation and drinking our coffee. Maybe I am not respectful enough to God. Maybe I have become to comfortable, and am doing all the speaking and forgetting to listen to the answers he is giving. I am guilty of being so involved with caring for my brother, that I do not take that few moments of my day in the beginning, to just sit and humble myself in his eyes. I have grown accustomed to just talking to him like an old friend. I had many dreams last night, most I do not remember this morning, but there must have been one that entered my sub conscience  strong enough to make me feel like I have given all of you the opinion that I am not a believer, and that I am very weak. Today, I will try harder. Today, I will ask God for more help. Today, I will start to write more stories that will entertain you instead of making you feel pity for me. Today, I will make changes.