Last week was one of the most difficult of my life. I was glad to see Monday come, and that is an anomaly! It started with the death of my best friend on Wednesday, then on Thursday, I happened to check my bank statement, and I saw a discrepancy. Someone had stolen checks that I... Continue Reading →
Dare to hope today. Forget twisted words of doubt. Remember the Cross! Written for RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge, August 12, 2019: Twisted and Cross.
I am still here, living and breathing, dreaming, packing, healing, and now writing on my blog again! I am excited just to be alive at this moment, watching as my life takes new turns. I am thrilled at how Abba, our heavenly Father is moving in our lives. I have missed writing, but Douglas and... Continue Reading →
Keep your dreams alive. Easy for life to dash them. Believe you can win. Written for RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge: hope and dash.
I once thought the boogie man was a figment of Mama's imagination. I was scared of every sound at night, huddled in my bed sheets until Morning came with the light that saved me and made me feel safe. But, one day I found out that the boogie man was all too real. Mama had... Continue Reading →
Guilt and shame are like cages, Holding us hostages by their lies, Making us believe we cannot change, No matter how hard we have tried. But, let's look in our mirrors, Forgiving ourselves for past sins. Then the doors of our cages will open, Freeing us to live our best lives again. (277 characters) Written... Continue Reading →
What is the best pick me up that you know of? To shake you out of the blues? Music with a great beat, songs that make my feet hanker to move. I love to put on some gospel or jazz, or even some Santana, and get up and dance my blues away. I find that... Continue Reading →
My mother told me that she was glad that I was not born in an earlier century, for I would have been publicly whipped for asking so many questions on gender equality. I wanted to know why the women cooked, but they were the last to eat. I questioned why I had to fix my... Continue Reading →
Her name was Pat, and she was my supervisor when I was hired in 1974 at the telephone company in Atlanta, Georgia. She was a hard task-master, determined to show that, as the first black woman given a supervisory position over white males, she was capable of doing the job. My complaint against her was... Continue Reading →