A Thanksgiving Prayer

Let us give thanks
To our fathers
Who gave us hands
for work
To our mothers
Who gave us hearts
for love
To God
Who gave us each a soul
for giving
and life eternal.

For callouses and crosses
Roses and kisses
Gifts and challenges
To help us grow
Cultivate and harvest
As the banquet of our labor
Now before us shows
We give our thanks.

For those who have passed
From this life
And those now present
We pray and hope
To share again and share alike
For food, for friends, for life
And those who serve
Let us give thanks.
In Jesus name we pray.
Amen
A blessed, safe, and joyous Thanksgiving to all!

In Those Quiet Brief Hours

The following is an excerpt from The Roll Top, a work of fiction I am in the process of writing. I hope you find it interesting. Like a romantic relationship, it has been both a love affair, and a test of will to see if it can succeed, or be left to wither on the vine like a former marriage.


In those quiet brief hours when dawn creates the illusion of a new day, the whole house seemed to breath a huge sigh of relief as the stress, and strain of a life lived in brief vignettes gives way to the only form of peace available, unconsciousness. Mother seemed to be the only inhabitant oblivious to the nightmares of loss, conviction, and longings of a son eager to claim his place upon the family mantel. Her only concerns were caring for those closest to her, and maintaining the semblance of a life she had known before all of the insanity began. Her strength came from the fact that faith in higher things overcomes all, carries on in spite of, and triumphs over evil. In her silent ways a household remains a safe haven, and a hope for those wanting desperately to come home again. Acceptance, and approval are mere testaments to the stubbornness of human beings placed in extraordinary circumstances. Life, in all its precious sates of mind, is based on love, and belief in something bigger than oneself. That no matter what, man can overcome when he does not cower inside himself, but rather, reaches up, and grasps the divine. Somehow, in those precious few moments, life returned to normal, but to Rosemary McBride, the heart of the matter lie in her ability to keep her family together as best she could, that no mater what, she would be there to bind all wounds, and keep the home-fires burning brightly; for there is nothing more profound in this world than a mother's love, and a God who inspires his children to be more than the sum of their earthly selves, to overcome any foe for freedom' s sake. In the end, that is all that matters when man has destroyed a place not meant for his eternal home.  

I Knew A Young Man

A Few Thoughts: I knew a young man once who impressed me as bright, intelligent, and mature. He could pen a story that would capture your imagination, and he could carry on a good coherent conversational. And then he grew up, pursued an education, found a profession, or two, and settled in to life as a cynical, bitter, and angry idealist.
One thing I have learned about life is that you must feed the soul. Like a garden it needs nurturing, water, and sunshine to grow. If left unattended, it will wither on the vine, and die. The problem with putting your faith in the idealism of the world is that human nature takes over. The choice becomes  whether you want to live like the human animal or the human being. The human animal simply responds to stimuli in its environment whereas the human being resorts to the soul to discern where to go. Like Steve Rogers, ninety pound weakling, or Captain America, super hero. As for me, I prefer the super hero standing on the ground of faith than cowering on the fiction of a world gone mad.
God bless.

To Practice What I Preach

A few thoughts:
I watched a good man give an acceptance speech, and I thought to myself: "Why the hell do I keep beating myself over the head for simply being a flawed human being?" I know I can't help myself sometimes, but I fall from grace when I try to go it alone, or when I condemn another for the same reasons I criticize myself. So then I know I must change the question, if another outcome is my desire.

Heroes are for comic books, or so we are to assume by the pictures on a movie screen, but we are the true heroes of our time, if we but look beyond the limits of our feeble minds. Now, I cannot bring myself to looking ten years down the line, when I have all I need to overcome today in the here, and now. And like that little engine that could, I rise each day, and look up to that hilltop, and prepare myself to shine, knowing life is all down hill on the other side. So I must make the best of today because I grow stronger with each mile I climb! Now, to practice what I preach.
Amen and God bless.

A Few Thoughts

Ever notice how frustrated people dwell on their frustrations? It is the beginning, and ending to every conversation, the focus of every joke, pun, and salutation. Enter a room, and it smacks you in the face. Leave the room, and it hits you on the ass like a broom. Text it, share it, creep someone's page, if you choose. Then, use it as sarcasm to build up their rage, or simply remind them to chill, like a wise old sage. Whatever the reason, for whatever cause, remember this: Our frustrations are there to tell us a thing or two, that maybe our frustration is a mere obsession that we need to take to bed with us, to sleep on, and forget about so we can move on with life in good humor, without all the drama, without doing any harm to those we care about most. Because even though we know intimate details about each other, and we use sarcasm as a means to cope; sometimes it is the comment left unspoken that heals the deepest wounds. 
Amen, and God bless.
Witt