Tag Archives: free



Yes, you’re telling me but not really 

Because we aren’t quite free

To speak

of that which holds us

So I’m telling myself


Eat right

Fight the urge and purge

It’ll get better

but then it doesn’t

So, I’m stressed to the max

and it’s seen in my actions

Depression and rage times a thousand

You should see me behind closed doors

Man, you would be floored

If you witnessed

Even a hint of it

But, it’s kinda taboo

To discuss

A less than perfect version

So what’s left?

Unrest and anxiety

More pressure to please

Less freedom to be

Fear of being seen

With all my imperfections

So I dare not speak

Of the hidden Inner

That’s riddled with tension

and I’ll keep on pretending

until I’ve sought the one that renders

Me as exceedingly perfect

till the hurtful is no longer worth it

till I expose those

Things that he chose to go 

to the cross for 

and when He rose, He showed

How the imperfect becomes perfect

How the depression becomes redemption

How He chose another ending

Without apprehesion

because He saw me as a treasure

Now, how’s that for value?

And it changed up the game

that I am no longer lame

But now I have the freedom to change!



A lot in recent events has me in this dance between absolute abhorrence but then realizing my responsibility is that much greater. 

Talked to a friend today , a friend that shares differing political views than me. This is ok. Absolutely ok. 

He asked me my thoughts. I gave them without sprinkling a sugar coating over top, of course. But followed up with my now realization that it is absolutely up to me.

To be informed.

To immerse myself in things I’m uncomfortable with.

To really delve into what this means for me and my family. 

So, I had this conversation this week that I couldn’t get over. Without giving major details, this friend/acquaintance of mine works at a very stressful position in linking up children and families with necessary things. She is currently working with a family that includes a mother who has fled her country. A mother who has slept in trash bags while fleeing for her family’s safety. A “refugee” or “immigrant” or “illegal alien”. 

I rather prefer to call her a woman. A mom. A FIGHTER. Strong. Courageous. Brave. 

I tell you this because of the following. 

We all are friends here on social media, in person, on the Internet , in public. And we all hold very strong beliefs , which likely won’t be swayed through this post or any other. BUT!!!!!!! 

There is always a face.

There is a face to the woman.

There are faces to her children. 

There is a face that belongs to the woman working with the family.

There are faces to these immigrants, illegal aliens. There are faces to the Muslim family. There is a face that belongs to the homosexual. 

I think sometimes our labels come without a face,Without realizing that these are ACTUAL people we are talking about. Not cartoon characters. Not characters in a book. Not people in some far away, imaginary land.

No, real, alive, breathing mankind.

So I wrote the following: 


Of places 

They’ve been 

Where they were unhinged 

Being binged 

By the lustful



The faces 

The races 

Of His people 

The equal

That we feel the need to 


The faces 

That hold tears 


And a thousand fears 

We will never have to know

The blow of

Status quo 

May we starting saying no 

And open our homes

And our hearts 

And our hands

For this is our fellow man: 

All The faces 

With all The traces

On all The races

From all The places

Grace is 

Getting what we don’t deserve 

Ball with a curve


Was Wrecked 

But love affected 

Our very checkered 


Isn’t this the same He

That can set free ? 

“THAT” humanity 

Stop the policy 

And the degrees

Modern day slavery 

And just be 

The we 

That heeds 

To the needs 

Of the faces 

With grace. 

Thanks for reading . ☺️☺️
(And watching if you look below) 

We the people 

We are the people 

Every single one of us 

“The scum” of us 

The mill of the run of us 

The ones that think they’re wonderous 

See, we’ve been hypnotized 



Those that aren’t similar 

But that’s pitiful 

See, we all got this one thing in common

And it’s our bond 

No magic wand 

We are people 

All hearts beating 

With the rhythm of the next one 

Put down the guns 

Open arms to each one 

No matter race 

Religion chased 

Different tastes 

Let’s make haste 

To see each other as people 

To meet at the steeple 

Have revival as equals 

– makes me think of Aleppo… Don’t turn blind, open wide, to worldwide hatred. Do something. 

Ethiopia as depicted in “Global Family Portrait” 

A poor man’s hunger 

Coupled with his wish for peace 

His work never done 

But abundance of generosity 

Few luxuries 

But many Pleas 

For humanity 

To experience peace

Free from 



People pleasin’



Turn the noise off 



Governmental pollution 



Only want what’s mine 

And yours 

See, it’s funny 

How this guy with nothing 

Doesn’t want more for himself

His Belly aching 

His Fingers shaking 

A life without essentials



But his only request 

Is world peace 

So Outrageous 

Almost contagious 

Now my wish too 

Only, I wish that Ethiopian man had food.


This poem I like to call Jude from book before Revelation in the Bible. 

Made me feel like I was looking in a mirror today so I decided to write about it. 


Two sides to every coin 

How bout every person? 

One of the flesh

The other, a virgin 

One white as snow

Others give into the urge and 

How can this be?

This humanity 

One day sold out

The next, give up everything 

The written word

The song and verse 

Quick to turn Their backs

For the same old shackles 

and chains 

What’s my name?

Used to be holy 

Now I am to blame


Back to the same 

Before I was saved 

Freedom’s not free

It cost Him his life 

Can’t hide behind 

Vice after vice

Telling lies and


The one I fear 


Fight back tears 

For making his death cheap 

Price was steep

Read em and weep 


Our church is planting a church in a nearby town. I decided to write about that: 
Open Bedford 

For the lepers

For the cast out

For the worn out 

For the downtrodden 

Asking “Where is God in this?”

For the seeking 

Those Pleading

People needing freeing 

To be a soft place

For all races

To open doors

For more and more

Of you God

People hurting

Hearts bursting


Where is God in this ?

So, we go

People know

Grace shown

Mind blown

Now known

Where God is in this 

He’s here

Been here

Never left

Paid the debt

No longer reprobate

Hands high

Raised high 

To arms spread wide

This is why

We come and we go

To Bedford

For the lepers