The Crooked Path


I've knocked my head against the wall until I bleed. 
This is what it took to get my attention. 
I seemed to take the hard way, the road less traveled.  
I've started my life over again many, many times.
Started from scratch.  From nothing.  
Each time a little further along this Crooked Path.
I began as a lump of clay, cast into the mud along
with the rest of the muck.
I managed to crawl upon the shore and bake myself in
the sun until I was cracked and bleeding. 
This is a process I repeated over and over again.  
I would then retreat back into the muck seeking 
the cool mud to soothe, only to realize that I must
push myself up and out.
At last, finding myself on the path, head up, shoulders 
back, I trudged forward tentatively, turning left when 
I should have turned right. 
Backing up and taking a different turn at times, 
but always the way that I wanted. 
Not what was best. 
But what I wanted. 
I knew that the outcome would be the same. 
Finally, one day as I was sitting in the mud 
once again, I bowed my head. 
I had prayed many times, but not like this.
I prayed, not to be lead to the right path. 
Not to be helped from the mud.  
I prayed instead to see; see the hand that had 
always been there. The arms that had always 
welcomed me.  
I prayed for faith.  

Copyright (C) 2020 Penny Wilson

My path to God has been a very long one. I came
to Him late in life. This is my expression 
of that journey. I still struggle, but my prayers
have been answered tenfold.  

A very special Thank You to Chuck, 
at The Reluctant Poet. He gave me the
line, 'The Crooked Path' that inspired 
this piece. 

Thank you for joining me on this journey. 
Penny <3  

  

  
 

Say A Little Prayer


I don’t usually ask anything of my followers.  Your visits, comments and continued support has been more than enough for me for several years now.  But today, I am asking you to pray for my dear friend Denise.  She has been diagnosed with Lung Cancer.  I’ve done a few posts about Denise over the years.  Suffice it to say that she is someone very dear to me.  She’s the sister that I never had.  We have had a close relationship for more than 40 years.

I don’t care what your religious stand is, but I feel that whether you believe or not, Prayer is a powerful thing.  When you pray, you send out your positivity (if that’s a word) into the universe.  That positiveness has an effect.  A simple way to look at it is this.  If you are around a angry or negative person, that “feeling” tends to rub off on you, right?  The same goes for the positive side of things.  If you are getting positive support and encouragement, you feel that and it helps.

I will be traveling to Oregon soon to be with my bff, but I’m not sure when.  I’ll keep you posted.  Meanwhile, please say a little prayer of healing for Denise.

Thank you, my Dear WordPress Family!  And thank you for joining me on this journey.  ❤ Penny

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

 

 

The Angels Will Dance


“We can all be angels to one another. We can choose to obey the still small stirring within, the little whisper that says, ‘Go. Ask. Reach out. Be an answer to someone’s plea. You have a part to play. Have faith.’ We can decide to risk that He is indeed there, watching, caring, cherishing us as we love and accept love. The world will be a better place for it. And wherever they are, the angels will dance.”

-Joan Wester Anderson AUTHOR

And so It Begins… — Mitch Teemley


REBLOG: Don’t miss Mitch’s Lovely post.

Advent, the season leading up to Christmas, is the root of the word “adventure.” It means to finally arrive after a long journey. It is about Christ’s arrival. And ours. “One of the essential paradoxes of Advent: that while we wait for God, we are with God all along, that while we need to be […]

via And so It Begins… — Mitch Teemley

This 24


REBLOG: Don’t miss this moving post by Valerie Cullers! ❤

Valerie Cullers

time-1739629_640Image by Gerd Altman Courtesy of Pixabay.

I have a friend who went through a pretty rough decade. She lost a son by suicide, her husband after twenty-five years and her godly father passed. I remember calling her when her father was failing and I asked her how she was doing. She said she was hanging on. Then she said two words that have stuck with me…this 24. She explained to me that she only had to live this 24 hours. She held on to her faith through everything she was going through one day at a time. When she was deep in the valleys, she held on to God’s hand moment by moment, hour by hour and day by day.

I took her advice to heart. When I walked through valleys, I reminded myself of her words…this 24. I then tried to push back the angst about tomorrow and…

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