Yawhey convenant keeper🙏🙏🙌🙌🙌

Lately, I’ve been feeling a strong connection with the Holy Spirit, guiding me to specific scriptures. For the past month, I’ve found myself reading the same passages every morning without even realizing it until today. I absolutely love the Psalms, especially chapters 23 and 24, and I often hear a voice leading me to other verses within that book. It’s been a month of this beautiful journey, and I can’t help but feel joy in becoming a woman of God—humbled and obedient, building an altar for Him.

I’m not rushing to other scriptures without the guidance of my counselor. During a tough time in the hospital, when I faced serious health challenges and even collapsed, I found myself saying, “Father God, I submit; I surrender.” Those powerful words were my offering to my Maker, acknowledging that I couldn’t do it all on my own. That moment truly changed my life. It doesn’t mean I’m free from challenges, but I now face them with the authority that God has already seen them. All I can do is tell Him, “You are my shepherd; I exalt Your name, for Your name is above every name.” I bring my challenges before His holy name, asking to drink from the cup of living water. One of the Psalms I read daily for repentance is Psalm 51, and for conviction, I turn to Psalm 7.

I even put myself on trial, saying, “Father God, convict me, judge me. If I’ve done anything to displease You without knowing, I accept Your judgment. But I beg You, Father God, to pardon me and vindicate me through the blood of Jesus.” Amen

#covenantkeeper#covenant#faith#spiritualjourney#community#belief#hope#inspiration#trust#love#unity#togetherness#faithful#prayer#support

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From Embers to Dawn

Beneath the coals, a flicker dances—
A heart aflame, yet shadowed trances.
One breath, I’m scorched by fevered light,
The next, adrift in endless night.

No Plan A stitches fractured dreams,
No B can chart these jagged streams.
I clutch the threads of trust, undone—
A tapestry spun by the Holy One.

The grill’s fierce heat, a fleeting high,
Then ashes choke the silent cry.
Laughter fades where echoes dwell,
In hollows, sorrow starts to swell.

Depression’s tide, a thief unseen,
Unmaps the world that once was green.
Yet in the void, a whisper stirs—
A psalm of dust, a prayer deferred.

How else to grasp this tempest’s weight?
But palms upturned, I abdicate.
Mercy, etch my name in grace,
Lift me where the phoenix dares to face

The storm. Let embers, cold and scarred,
Become the stars Your hands unbarred.
For in the wreck, where hope seems slain,
Your dawn ignites the sky again.

This poem weaves duality through fire and shadow, surrendering control to divine trust. It mirrors the chaos of depression while anchoring in faith’s quiet promise.

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I’m 52 years old. I’ll be 53 in May and suddenly that seems immensely older than 52. Weird, this aging thing, isn’t it?

When my mother was 52 my father was 50 and I was about 22. That was 1992. At that time I think my sister was still teaching 1st grade in Long Beach, CA and my brother was still in high school. I had dropped out of college (music school) and was either working at UPS loading tractor trailor trucks, or I was starting to attend Northeast Broadcasting School in their eight month audio recording certificate program. 

I’m not sure of the timeline for my parents. My father was running an accounting department. I think he was still at the scrap metal company in Tewksbury. That wasn’t the happiest time in his professional life, but it was better than the last days with the restaurant company. My mother… I think my mother was working as a bookkeeper at the electronics place in Chelmsford. My father would eventually work there as well. He ran the accounting department and my mother worked for him. My brother interned there as well, and when I went back to school for real a few years later I worked there as an overnight cleaning guy. Things seemed good for my parents in those days.

Apart from that, I have to expect that my parents spent a lot of time worrying about what a fuck up I was turning into after first deciding to go to music school, then dropping out, then going to a useless tech school to study a useless field, and then turning into a warehouse flunky for a few years. It was 1997 when I went back to school for real. I hope that eased their worries.

1992 was a long way away from my mother’s brain tumor and the dementia it lead to, and my father’s heart attack and all the trouble that lead to. 1992 was a pretty happy year for me, personally, even if I was turning into a professional fuck up. I wouldn’t change a thing as it all lead me to where I am today. If I had to change anything though, that brain tumor and the heart attack would be high on the list. Hell… they would pretty much be the list.

Hey AI Thing, generate an image of a Jedi Knight visiting his parents.

https://robertjames1971.blog/2024/02/13/my-parents-at-my-age/

#dailyprompt #dailyprompt1847 #Family #father #Life #mother #Parenting