img_1954I along with many have suffered significant loss in this highly eristic year. So, I write this afflatus poem using two of my “go to” scriptures: Matthew 5:4 New International Version (NIV) Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted and Psalm 30:5 (NIV) Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. Please be sure to click on the hyperlinked words/phrases and be well, Beloved.

Blessed are they that mourn
Lost loved ones to the Light
Black and Blue lives forlorn
> 2,000,000 voters silenced by right
Friend and Family relations worn
“Unfriending” at all new height
Refugees from their homeland torn
Tolerance treated as blight
Pipeline worries during Thanksgiving shorn
Biggest addictions are pride and fright
Social justice sounds the horn
While glass cliffs and ceilings sit tight
Don’t worry about the scorn
Though weeping may endure for a night
Joy comes in the morn
We shall be comforted keeping Him in sight

Litmus test



She grew up with an alcoholic mother. Being a typical oldest sibling, she took up the slack- cooking, cleaning, raising her younger brother. Graduating from high school opened up a portal to escape. She vowed to never look back. That was until she met him. He embodied everything she wanted. A lover, husband, a provider, a father to her unborn. He also knew her. He was from home.

Sadly for me, their nuptials meant my friend would move away. Fortunately, for her, she would not only gain a spouse but a reconciled relationship with her mother. Or maybe it was unfortunate. Soon after they made amends, years of neglect and abuse came to a head. Death came swiftly. It was soon followed by removal of what she held most dear- her ability to reproduce. Her body betrayed her as a tragic denouement of her suffering. The things that she once identified as life giving were dead and mourning overtook her. Her conversation turned bitter. For her, I encouraged her vents and validated her anger. Through her, I saw that mourning is a type of hunger and you have to be careful what you feed it. It produces a consuming inner ache that initially screams to be relieved but can quickly turn into a place of comfort. I tried logic, gossip, food, joking, swearing, and enabling with fleeting success. But found only truth will satiate. To Forgive, release, receive. False doctrine, attention, “control”, substances, and logic are placaters of the unwise. Wisdom is the principle thing.