A PRELUDE TO A SLEEP, by (Kacie) Kathy Cooper

My emotions exceed my power to contain them
And so I sleep...
Should I raise my voice and complain then?
T'would only make me weak

For who would hear my deepest sighs?
A trailing of the wind
And who-so-ever would recognize
The sadness I hide within

Only He who towers high on high
Beyond the marvels of existence
No time or space can ere deny
His beauty, his consistence

Be with me then, inside my darkness
Erase my "worldly" view
Tighten up my sense of sharpness
And let me see, see only You

Brother Bill’s Conversation with Toby, by Charlotte Boquist

(As told to Mary Jane and Charlotte March 3, 2011)

            Toby, son of a Baptist lay teacher, is married to Bill’s granddaughter, Carolee.  These two men had a special relationship; they were buddies and shared much through the years.  They had, on several occasions discussed Heaven and Hell at length, while sitting out on Bill’s patio.

            Visiting him in the hospital, Bill not being able to call out indicated that he wanted to speak with Toby, so Carolee traded places with her husband who was minding the children outside the room. 

            Toby leaned down close to the bed since Bill was so weak that he was only able to whisper, the first thing that Bill said was, “Don’t think this is from the drugs or that I’m hallucinating.”  Then he told of seeing friends that some had been dead for twenty-five years, walking around, waving to him on the other side of something that was hazy, like looking through a glad bag”.  Bill was reaching out and grasping at something in the air.  Toby asked what he was doing.  Bill said that he was trying to get though the veil.  He wanted to be there, “But” he said, “Don’t tell Grandma because she will fight to keep me here.”

Toby asked if his friends talked to him.  Bill replied no, just the lady spoke to him.  The lady was dressed in white, all fluffy like lace or ruffles.  She was first up in the corner, then in his face, and then over there.  She was flitting about the room.  Bill asked her who she was and she replied that she was “The Greeter”.

            Toby asked if he saw anyone else.  Bill replied that there were lots of people walking around and that he wanted to get over there, and he kept picking at the veil.   (Toby told us that Bill would reach up with his hands and pick at the air).  Toby asked him if they said anything, Bill said he couldn’t hear them.  He couldn’t see his Mom and Dad, but he knew they were there.

            Later Bill told Shirley (his wife) and Debbie (his daughter) that he just wanted to go home.  They, of course, thought he meant back to Basin, but he meant “over there”.

"Love is not just a spoken word" by Noemi S Rabina

This was submitted as a Valentine's story -- I have been negligent in waiting so long to publish it. But, when you think about it, any day is a good day to be thinking about love. ~ Bonnie

Coming from a meeting one beautiful Thursday morning, as I drove along Downey ave. I was annalyzing the message that I heard from the speaker about love. She based her message on I Corinthians 13. What struck me most were the passages that says, "(V4) Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. (V5) It is not rude, it is not self seeking. It is not easily provoked, it keeps no record of wrong doings. (6) Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. (7) It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

God's love is always directed toward others, not towards ourselves. It is possible to practice this kind of love, giving love to others and expecting nothing in return. We can give without loving, but we can not love without giving.

I thought of my sister living not too far from me. We have not talked nor have seen each other for a long time. Both of us were busy doing our own activities. While I was on the road, I saw the newly built bakery shop on Downey Ave. I stopped to get some pastries for my sister to surprise her with a love gift since Valentine’s Day was around the corner. I called her up and said that I will just pass by on the way to my Memoir Writing Class. She invited me in but I just stood by the door for they have a big watch dog inside. The dog loves me so much that it will leap on me and sit on my lap. Not this time when I have to go to my class.

Since then, my sister and I have talked more often, putting aside small petty disagreements. Another sister of mine lives across the ocean and I also love her. I always remember her with gifts from the heart. God made us sisters and all that God has created are good. It is better to build bridges than putting a fence between friends, relatives, and especially, sisters.

Thoughts on healing and love, by Annette Skarin

How swiftly my life slips
through the hourglass allotted me
I try to make sense of the plots and characters
woven between each line

I reduce the monsters to peons
one-dimensional and harmless
I listen intently for my real name
which only my Creator knows.

My story flows from my pen
The ink dries with each healing word
leaving a permanent trail of discovery
My abusers become powerless
with each forgiving thought

Today a friend said
“I love you, Annette”
leaving me warm and full
Today my Father whispers to my heart
I love you my child – if I will be still and listen
The denouement of my story is His

http://carinskarin.blogspot.com/