Thursday, August 27, 2009

My Little Chocolate Chips

My Chocolate Chips! When we think about Chocolate Chips we think of those little burst of sweetness that add to an otherwise boring cookie or normal bread. But that not what I’m talking about, I’m talking about My Chocolate Chips, my Sunday school kids!!!

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

My Thoughts on Woodstock 1969


Woodstock 1969, I wasn’t there. In fact, I wasn’t born either; my mom had to of only been 9 maybe 10 years old. I reflect on Woodstock only on what I read in text books, internet and what I have heard about that eventful 3 days in history now 40 years ago. I remember before I dedicated my life to God when I was 14, watching hours of MTV and hearing about Woodstock. To me at the time it was a grand and amazing event, a one of a kind that I hope I could see repeated and I could attend. Now at age 25, I dread to see a similar event come together. In fact, I fear for it. Woodstock to be honest was to me now a nasty, insane, ungodly and devilish event and I refuse to give it any glory.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

A Time to Play and A Time to Cuddle

I don’t know whose fault it was hers or mine, I think we saw each other at the same time. She followed me as I walked by peering casual in. I brought my fingers to the window being careful not to tap, but she was glued immediately. She stood back and stared and I could hear a little growl from her little throat moments before she tried to attack my fingers. I laughed out loud! For ten minutes, I slowly moved my fingers across the window, for ten minutes she attempted to attack the window, licking, biting, growling and wagging her small little tail. I was captivated by her and she by me.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Just Sing...

“Just Sing,”

It seems to be what my heart and soul was crying out for me to do. But everything else told me not to sing. I had just cried till I had no tears left, I had been having a rough day, more like a rough year. I didn’t want to sing, I wanted to cry, I wanted curl up and die temporally, and I did not want to sing. I was to low in spirit that singing would not help, it would not solve my problems, and it would not meet my needs.