“Happy Father’s Day,” Dad

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I dedicate this day to my father who was a godly man and who only sought the best for his two sons. He weathered his own personal trials and fought the system to protect his dignity. My dad graduated from William & Mary College and served as a Commissioned and Warrant Officer of the US Naval Reserve. He was a test pilot during WWII where he flew solo the first mechanical PBY and later the P-71 Mustang. Pop was larger than life. He was a man of poise, distinction, and honor, and his 6’2” stature grew as I looked up to him in my childhood days. He never needed an introduction.

Pop’s hobbies included boat building, hunting, and most of all, being a father. But things in 1955 went south as he and Mom went their separate ways. There were unaccounted times and many questions left unanswered, but sometimes in life, we just have to come to our own summation. I remember being deprived of visiting him on weekends. I didn’t understand the value of distinction. Only God could prepare my innocence – I needed the endurance later down the road.

My dad passed away after thirteen Father’s Days, so we never had a chance to do much together. Throwing a ball, swinging a bat, and playing catch, as most kids do with their fathers was out of the question. If I saw him, it was rare. Even now, my heart pales at the thought of him and tears fester from the altercation. We both deserved better.

Now, it’s my brother and I, on this Father’s Day, who commemorate the man we tried to be like many times. Life is short at best, and a glimpse is all I remember this day. But we call each other every year, still, and wish Pop well in heaven as his holiday is celebrated with God. So, I guess we’ll each wait our turn to enjoy the moments in life we missed with our father. God bless you, Pop!

To those whose fathers remain here on earth, pick up the phone and say “I love you, Dad,” and wish him the best. After all, it is he who helped bring you into this world. And, God bless the little boys who’ll soon be called “Dad.” The day will come when your sons will exonerate you too!

Happy Father’s Day to all those special fathers!

Father's Day verse


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Dana and Goliath

As you read this blog, please pray for the author, Dana, as yet another publisher, #4, has fallen through the cracks for his new book. This tormented piece was written with many emotions and frustrations.
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I sit in disbelief. The gentle winds feel refreshing, but the big mills of the system still exhaust my very existence. I write my memoirs I receive from heaven as I believe I’m connected to a higher power. God only anoints certain people with miracles and I know I’m one of them. Feeling like Moses, I sweat at the thought, and at times I’m in disbelief. How do I cross many lanes of the highway’s vast interchange without being killed? The world has become a conglomerate of books and stories washed up by the beach. Crashing waters cave in!

Feeling as though I am David, standing on a hill staring at Goliath, I left my flock to conquer a monster. In the name of Jesus, God brought me thus far for purposes unknown. I trace my steps and ask the Lord, “Where are you leading me? Why are there so many roadblocks as I try to produce the gift you’ve given me? I suffer from disillusionment, yet I stay focused. I suffer financially, yet I’m a half a step from being penniless. You’ve brought me love and joy I’ve never known. But, I am lost in a maze as the haze clouds my intentions. Where am I going, Lord?”

My energies are mixed, and emotions stymie me. I’ve come to a fork in the road. What should I choose – give up on fate or follow my faith like David? It’s God I must stay centered on for answers. There has to be a purpose for Him to grant me such a miraculous gift.

Lord, I’m not a writer as most authors I know, yet millions think different. I am flawed, imperfect, and I struggle to refrain from sin too. I’m no better than one who is reading this message. But God, you have a purpose; I am certain. How long must I wait? The tribulations seem endless. I’ll stay in prayer; not for me, but for the gift you bestowed upon me. Please, Father, guide me through these mills of the system, and protect my enthusiasm for it, too, is clouded over.

I’m at the close of another road of disappointment. I’ve turned around, though life has no reverse. God give me the strength to stare down the Goliath. Evil is everywhere! Let there be more hope than just a mustard seed in my palm. I must remember my purpose in life and conquer…. in the name of Jesus.

Dana and Goliath

 

A Robin’s Legend

A Robin's Legend


The wind died down and the sun sunk low. My body reverently waited as the heat index was so exhausting it melted my conscience. I could barely breathe. But as darkness claimed the day, a robin made its way to a ledge of the porch. God spoke through her. Granting serenity, the stars suddenly became pronounced and the moon reverently rose. It was a little reincarnation of biblical proportions domineering the dark.

Amazingly, she stood guard – not high in the branches, but next to me. The legendary Robin thrives in God’s world, while carnivorous others only eat carcasses. And speaking of other “unclean birds” of the Bible – vultures, eagles, kites, falcons, buzzards, ravens, and such – they appear only to have black or dark feathers. I listened to the message as told from the verses:

Leviticus 11:13-19 (NIV)
13 “‘These are the birds you are to regard as unclean and not eat because they are unclean: the eagle,[a] the vulture, the black vulture, 14 the red kite, any kind of black kite, 15 any kind of raven, 16 the horned owl, the screech owl, the gull, any kind of hawk, 17 the little owl, the cormorant, the great owl, 18 the white owl, the desert owl, the osprey, 19 the stork, any kind of heron, the hoopoe and the bat.

Ordained in Christ’s name, the little robin is the holiest of holy in the animal kingdom. Legend says God, our Father, ordered her to remove the thorns from His son’s brow as they dragged Him through the streets of Jerusalem carrying a cross. When the bird pulled them out, drops of Jesus’s blood, stained its breast. God was very pleased, so He adorned these birds with a commemorative chest of red.

I stand in remembrance of the robin who is so famous. Few know, God guards the wings of this little bird.

Currant Pie

Currant Pie 2

I reached for a recipe in the early morning light of the holiday. My family came from far and wide to join in the festivities. We joined together to celebrate life and to thank God for one another. It was an awesome time to make memories. For generations, our family’s tradition included the ever so sweet Currant pie. But as this metaphor unfolds, it makes me wonder if some people can relate.

The flour spread across the bar counter, but we realized later, we should have cheated on the pie crust and bought it in the store. Mixing bowls decorated the kitchen and measuring cups stood silently waiting. This gem of a dessert was ready to bake in the oven. We set the timer and prepared dinner.

About 45 minutes later, we took the pie out of the oven, and it looked alright except it didn’t rise properly. We said grace and had a wonderful dinner – ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, beets and golden rolls fit for a king. Then it was time to devour the pie, so we cleared the table and sat it in front of everyone. Anticipating the first bite, my beloved brother suddenly said, “Oh no! I forgot the eggs in the dough”!

Some occasions in life, oddly enough, resembles lessons God teaches us. And yet years go by, and the love of memories become a metaphor. I realize that recipes are like some people, particularly Christians. They search for answers because a little something missing – an essential ingredient for joy and completeness. They live their life, perhaps walking the straight and narrow, but their Christian deeds are just a little shy with the measuring cup.

We must realize without God we are incomplete. It doesn’t matter how sweet you are; you’ll never rise without serving our Lord! He should be the main ingredient in your life, just like eggs in a recipe. Make sure when you come to the table to give grace to our Father that you are the best measurement you can be. How can you accomplish this? Offer your help to those in need; study the Bible daily; be active in your community; and most importantly, share His good word.

Currant Pie


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Congratulations Dana Bicks!

We are absolutely thrilled to discover Dana’s name on this list! Congratulations and God bless you Dana for spreading His word throughout the world!

Top 30 Inspirational Blogs and Websites To Follow in 2018

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Time Well Spent

The most meaningful things in life do not come with instructions.


Time Well Spent pic 3

I watch a variety of birds take turns at the feeder and boy; their life seems so simple. With a hot cup of coffee to soothe my tired, aching joints, I think about my growing up years. My mind wanders back to a different time of life.

My pop drove an hour to work, and mom supervised us getting ready for school. At the day’s end, he arrived home, exhausted, just about in time for dinner. On Sundays, my mom made sure we dressed appropriately for church – you know, starched shirt with a matching tie, and pants creased down the middle of each leg. I may have faked being sick for school, but I needed a doctor’s note from heaven to get of going to church!

But, those minute, sensitive times are well worth remembering, for much of my childhood looks vast like a morning sky. My heart pales at the thought of all those lost years. Oh sure, I can recall all my friends and the homes we moved to; but the special times of sitting on the dock by myself, waiting to see if the bobber dipped beneath the waters, supersedes any special times with my parents. The quiet minutes on a father’s lap never occurred because he was too busy trying to make my mother happy.

Time Well Spent pic 2

Today, there is nothing worse than to look at my childhood scrapbook. I wipe off the dust only to find vacant pages. Those informative years are lost, gone forever, as I stare at the empty memories which should have been time well spent with my parents. I try to apply God’s words and promises to my life. No other father has given me this kind of faith and hope! Though I can’t resurrect my childhood, God has, at least, given me a second chance in the happiness column.

I widened my horizons to include peers of every color and nationality. A glimpse into present times, reveals history seems to repeat itself in family units. An endless ambition of making a lot of money for life’s luxuries, along with a small amount of self-centeredness, is producing a lot of empty memories for many other children. With little time well spent on these kids, what will happen to them? Who will teach them love, admiration, and the enthusiasm of life? Who’s going to teach the little girl to ride her first two-wheel bike or a young boy to hit a baseball in the backyard? The most meaningful things in life do not come with instructions.

This morning, I looked in the mirror and asked myself if I raised my child, as a single parent, in time well spent? Did I raise another statistic or an accountable young man I can look up to throughout life? Only time will reveal the truth. Though kids may grow weary of our ways, they will eventually determine if we had God guiding our intentions.

We must ask ourselves:

Are we leading by example?
Are we teaching them to walk in the Holy Spirit by spending time with them in the Bible?
Are we taking them to church regularly?
Does the family pray together?
Are we living by the Ten Commandments in our homes?
Are we showing them how to be strong and confident?

I pray, today, the chain of neglect (whether purposefully or not) might break, for love and God are the missing parts of time well spent in the hearts of the young today. Let us teach them the powerful expression of love!

 


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Infants of the Infantry

Infants of the Infantry cover

It’s 5 am, and the town’s still dark. Flags lining the main street hang low like there’s no tomorrow. Winding roadways glare with oncoming headlights, and my love is calling me home. The dawn’s very early light ignites the sky reminding me there’s still a war yet to win.

My mind shifts gears, and I wonder what happened to the infants of the infantry. Dead men are hailing, and POWs are released all in the name of our Father. It’s time for them to return home to resurrect their family’s lives.

Flags somberly post at half-mast for the young men who gave up the ghost before their time. Battle cries scream behind the walls of plastered domes with velvet upholstery. God, I ask you to anoint the fallen and to follow Christ in his crusade.

We are all made in His light, and each person deserves the right to be equally heard. Who are they, in tarnished ties, that speak in tongues we can’t surmise? I only pray the day will come when the government and its people will harmonize and sing the same song.

Lines are drawn, and states divide; parents fight and children cry. There doesn’t seem to be a recourse of action. The heavens beacon the entangled righteous and remaining neutral, now, is unimaginable. We gather holding hands. Our only ruler is the almighty Father. We must put inhibitions aside and realize our children, the infants of the infantry, are at our demise.

Let us reconstruct our way of life, somberly saluting those flags hanging low in the night. They remain to guard the innocent eyes so they may quietly sleep till morning arrives. God bless you, and God bless our great nation!

Infants of the Infantry verse


 

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