Walking this cold winter day in upstate New York I saw a large wooden manger scene empty from Christmas past. The plastic figurines were gone into storage, the wind blew at the hay hanging on. A real and strong presence of God’s grace, guidance and blessings assured me once again of His past and future love.
I saw how God’s love was constantly poured into my life while writing the first volume of The Threshold as a Christian. But my first 36 years I lived without Christ and…..
In one word writing is cathartic. A cleansing takes place when diary ideas or values and priorities are written into feelings you can see in print. In reshaping valuable truths and emotions a sense of purpose evolves as a driving force.
Visualizing your work lying on your desk printed and bound between covers, helps push your purpose to create a piece of art to your best ability. The uncommon accomplishment of furnishing a finished product that could perhaps grow legs and…..
A scene of life with warm sunshine and laughing faces would jump into my recovering head concussion and jump out. Startled at first I soon realized their importance and carried a small orange pad and pen to jot those memory gems down. The diary began capturing thoughts that appeared as pieces of my lost memory, a flash of recall.
Collecting thoughts on paper at 21 years old in 1974 became my medicine in recovering from the motorcycle crash. The value of relating…..
It was Christmas 2001 a few months after America’s 9-11 wake-up call. My small family did not want to talk about God. They appeared to be part of the majority of Americans that wanted leaders to do away with or have little to do with God and be led by human systems.
After generations of America ignoring God and mocking Him with bold and heinous offenses, our holy and righteous God allowed some of the consequences of sin to fall…..