I have so much to post…so many recipes to share. Yet, God MOST certainly laid it on my heart to post this today…I can’t explain it, but it’s real. Thank you God for helping me be Martha and not Mary in this moment (which is hard for me). Lord, please hear our prayers and convict us when our sinful tendencies rise to the surface. Help us to love one another in YOUR honor. Let us not be an embarrassment to You and Your name…let us remember how You came and how LOVE began. May we love others through your eyes and not our our own…You have no prejudices Lord, we are ALL Your children.
The birth of Christ is the perfect time to birth love into our lives and give grace to one another. Can I get an amen…
Much love to all of you reading…much, MUCH, love.
(This poem is not sugar coated- it is real, and there are still real problems that exist-please know that I am not being insensitive by showing this. We need shown this.We need to be on fire for the Lord-hand raised. )
The Cold Within
Six humans trapped by happenstance
In black and bitter cold
Each possessed a stick of wood,
Or so the story’s told.
Their dying fire in need of logs,
The first woman held hers back
For on the faces around the fire
She noticed one was black.
The next man looking ‘cross the way
Saw one not of his church
And couldn’t bring himself to give
The fire his stick of birch.
The third one sat in tattered clothes
He gave his coat a hitch,
Why should his log be put to use
To warm the idle rich?
The rich man just sat back and thought
Of the wealth he had in store,
And how to keep what he had earned
From the lazy, shiftless poor.
The black man’s face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from his sight,
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white.
And the last man of this forlorn group
Did naught except for gain,
Giving only to those who gave
Was how he played the game.
The logs held tight in death’s stilled hands
Was proof of human sin,
They didn’t die from the cold without,
They died from the cold within.
~ James Patrick Kinney