This Fight is Futile
We really show no signs of bending do we….
Or humbling ourselves before God……
I think He is showing us both where we are really at……
I think He is calling us to step aside from our pride….
He’s smiling, maybe chuckling…..
He knows we both think we are right but He has all the wisdom…..
It’s Never Too Late
To take a slower more authentic road
To follow your own bent
To have courage when you are passed by
To smile when the setback comes
To remember God is always there
To find happiness in Memories
To cool your jets and hedge your bets
To smile just because you’re alive
To give your smile away today
Hands
Patty cake bakery
Baker man!
You use flour
We, only our hands
Here’s the church
Here’s the steeple
Open the door
And see all the people.
I was brought up in a staunch religious world being taught that my religion was the best one, the true one. I was brought close to the altar serving Mass at the age of 5 or 6. I memorized Latin. The first two words | learned in Latin were. “Ad Deum” or ” To God Who is hey joy of my youth”. Ad Deum qui laetificat, juventutem meam, meaning “To God Who is the joy of my youth”. That was many years ago. Since then, my life has been indelibly affected by “the church”. For years, I hardly asked questions about what it all meant. It was so illustrious and mysterious to me that I just followed.