Ancient Passageway to Joy

Ancient stone passages standing open through time, and times, and half a time. Old doorways into ruins of an ancient Pueblo, constructed near the time of Christ, which remains as a monument to the first New Mexicans, the founders of my hometown, Aztec. I touch these walls crafted by long forgotten hands and marvel at the brilliance of these people we label as primitive. From rock, mud, and cedar they constructed a monument to their existence that withstood the test of time. Each tiny room that housed a family also, became a burial chamber; time capsules leaving a legacy of how they survived and thrived in the desert. The river that conquering Catholic Spaniards named Animas (lost souls) in response to discovering these same ruins is the river that made this pueblo possible. The same river that supported both past civilizations continues to sustain the ancient town I call home. I consider that this current Aztec will also, fall to ruin, as that is the final outcome of anything built by man. The ultimate joy human beings seek in everything we build evades us because of our mortal nature. We may succeed in building something that outlasts us but everything returns to dust as we also, return to the dust.

I step through the small door, big enough for only one, and as I step backward in time, I set my feet on the narrow path that leads through the pueblo. Standing in one small room that once served as living room, kitchen, bedroom, and then as a tomb, I am surprised by a feeling of coming home and reverence. On my right, there is another doorway that has been filled in with glass and those buried in that room have been left in state, along with the implements of daily life. Baskets, sandals, and sleeping mats woven from leaves of bear grass that are not only, practical but artistically decorated. Ceramic pots of varying sizes and shapes with glazed designs I recognize in pottery made by Pueblo people today. It’s obvious that these ancient people knew how to live well in the desert and they weren’t so different from the people who presently abide in Aztec. The only difference is our technologies but people and our needs never change and it is God Who supplies our needs through nature. I am standing in ancient history, looking through each subsequent passageway, my eyes guided by the light from outside in the future, and my spirit is overwhelmed by the Eternal One. I am reminded of my own life’s passage through time. I remember when I met Jesus, the Door and stepped through Him by faith, setting my feet onto the narrow path and began my walk on the Living Way. A leap that took me centuries backward, on a journey leading to the future, guided though the dark passages of earthly life, by the true Light that is also, Jesus. In that first step of faith, this mortal woman realized eternity in Christ. He is the ancient passageway standing open for times, and time, and half a time; until the full number of the called and chosen, enters and then the door will close. All human monuments will crumble as human rule comes to a final end. Then Jesus will open the door to a new and better world. Where He will rule over all and every human need will be met with utter healing and the sustenance of eternal life. Jesus is the ancient passageway to joy!







Stormy mood clouds roll in and darken his demeanor,

Like rolling thunder he begins to mumble dire warnings,

Lightening-like words strike randomly, zapping everyone

Who dares to come too near or carelessly, crosses his path;

Then the storm intensifies and builds into all consuming rage;

He becomes a maniacal mad-man, a wrathful anger machine,

Hurting, breaking, hurling, destruction until suddenly, the storm

Stops! The clouds dissipate. The sun returns. As if he has no

Memory of the storm. But the damage and destruction remain.


Everything he broke, he neatly and methodically, sweeps away,

By blaming others and casting shame on the victims of his raging

Storm that vanishes; but always returns without warning or reason;

It’s only, his temperamental- season cycling within his intemperate

Mental climate; his untamable nature; and he expects all who love

Him to accept; with his shaming-blame and swallow their tears

And deny any fear,

When his mood clouds begin to rise, his thunder begins to roll,

And disparaging insults strike their tender hearts like sharp bolts

Of lightening that electrically burn loving hearts until,

The love that lights them dies.


Dead love evaporates to form new thundering mood clouds;

That build, and roll, and rage, and destroy, and suddenly, dissipate;

Only, to build again; with each storm’s passing leaving more fodder

For future seasonal storms; a natural part of his intemperate climate,

His normal cycling that all who love him must tolerate or self-dissipate;

Because to love him is to precipitate and become a casualty

Of his wrathful-raging-anger storms.

Complex Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome is unendurable pain in response to trauma that continually, recycles. Dark moods that seem to come from nowhere have a very real cause in the past and when the present acts as a reminder, the unresolved emotions related to the past trauma begin to cloud the mind of the CPTSD sufferer. While women often turn their anger inward, men are prone to turn it outward but neither rightly places their anger with the person or persons who hurt them. There may be no concrete memory of the original event as it may be buried deep in the subconscious. Even if memory of the original trauma event is acknowledged, the feelings associated with it are often stuffed down in avoidance only, to rise when triggered. When triggered, sufferers traumatize others and re-traumatize themselves. As the illness cycles, it also grows in strength, and CPTSD can destroy the life of the person trapped within it.

There is hope for survivors of CPTSD in Jesus. He is a reason to live and continue the struggle required to overcome CPTSD. In Jesus there is validation and empathy for survivors of abusive trauma. He is the example to follow on the narrow path that leads to complete forgiveness and the deep letting go of past events that breaks the cycle of CPTSD. It is more than a choice it is a journey of right-reckoning that employs truth in attaching painful emotions with the root of their cause and leaving responsibility in the lap of the person who caused the injury. It is in facing into triggers and deciphering the truth of where the pain originated that emotions are re-attached to what caused them, making those triggers more manageable. Honest acceptance of the pain caused to innocent others and attempting to make amends for those hurts is also, a vital part of genuine reckoning. It may require confrontation of the abuser but their repentance isn’t required for healing. Repentance on the part of the abuser within is required. When responsibility rests in it right place, the work is finished when those offenses are nailed to the cross and the sufferer dies to them.

When a child’s joy is crushed through abuse, that child will grow up and crush the joy of others; but they aren’t beyond the hope available in Jesus. Truth, when rightly employed, will break the cycle of pain and rage that is CPTSD. Though someone you love may be trapped in suffering from the past and because of it have become unlovable, don’t stop loving them. Avoid being a casualty, keep yourself safe, and if no other avenue for loving them is available, love them through prayer.





Spiritual Joy is Organic

As I sit down to write, my dishwasher begins to beep, my phone is ringing, and someone is texting me an instant message; all the devices meant to serve me are instead, ruling over me. Digital governance is becoming more dominant every day and if I’m not mindful of it, my every waking move is digitally dictated. Alternating between my online world and my organic work-a –day world is normal now but sometimes the lines between the two are very blurred. As technology becomes more magical the dream world it creates can sometimes, seem more real than physical realty. It is also, becoming increasing difficult to govern a people with such technological power at their fingertips and I realize that digital rule is the logical path for those deemed responsible to govern the people. The digital beeps and jingles that direct my tasks at home are only, a shadow of what is bound to come. Everything about everyone is cataloged on Google and in social media, neatly arranged with faces, personal info, contacts, and every religious, political, and philosophical opinion attached. All are known and circled with people of like-minds, ready to be gathered at a moment’s notice, should the need arise. I feel a cold shadow pass over my joy.

I step outside and am met with warming relief as my skin makes contact with the sun. The golden leaves of the Cottonwoods shimmering against a crystal blue October sky, massaging the digital knots out of my mind. I hear birds singing in celebration as birds have sung their praises to God for millennia and I behold the Garden of Eden and in my mind’s eye I see those angels, barring the entrance against all fallen human beings. I look again at the natural beauty around me and I see joy. The sun, the color, the breeze, the birds, every plant and every creature doing exactly, what God designed them to do; with no thought of their needs not being met in the organic world from which they were formed and to which they will return. A police siren pierces the air and breaks into my peaceful reverie, just as the sin of Eve and then Adam, pierced the natural order of God’s creation, such a long time ago. The Garden of Eden wasn’t enough for them. They wanted to be like God and make choices in his place. Many ages later, human beings are doing the same. We traded the Garden for sorcery and now, the Garden surrounds us but we can’t enter because of our refusal to allow God to be God. My thoughts return to the organic beauty around me and my spirit looks upward and I remember His faithfulness. Since coming to Jesus, I have never known hunger or want. He provides for all of my needs and has sometimes, done so in miraculous ways. I realize that in Jesus, I am spiritually living in that beautiful Garden that my Father Created for His children but it isn’t yet, fully visible. When Jesus returns, all human sorcery will come to an end and the natural order of things will return. His thousand-year reign will end as we and all of Creation pass into the eternal state and re-enter that blessed Garden.

The shadow passes, my joy blazes bright, removing all of my angst and fear. I sing my praises to God, in unison with the birds, and in a gentle dancing sway, rejoice with the wind and the trees. The delusional dream sweeping over the planet has no hold over me. My joy, that I now know spiritually, is also, organic and will be fully, established when “the faith becomes sight”. The Creation will be fully restored, when man is humbled, and takes his seat in the natural order; a new world where God is God and man is content to be man. Until then, I rest safely beneath my Father’s wing, thankful that I am in the world but not of it. I open my lap-top, re-enter the digital world, and write to share Jesus, the light Who shines bright into the world of digital darkness, leading all who will believe to a new world of organic joy.


Ode to Roseburg


Something happened on the other day!

Something so difficult for me to relate.

Something that I recognize as tragedy.

Nothing can be changed or time repay;

Nothing now can be done to alleviate;

Nothing humanly transforms tragedy.

Anything I hope or I can possibly say,

Anything directed at redirecting fate,

Anything given can’t reverse tragedy.

Everything I beg for and all that I pray,

Everything regretted, sorrowing state,

Everything’s not adequate for tragedy.

Continue reading “Ode to Roseburg”


With an innocent look so clean-cut and so nice

By smooth-flowing-words-to-tempt-and-entice

He draws his followers lured into traps like mice!

Luring them in once and then snaring them twice

By trickery he lock-chains his victims down thrice

Mostly women; and all his followers pay the price

Of no intellectual freedom and all sex-favors nice

Leave all behind! Come live with me in paradise!

Truth-sounding-Godly-words most useful to entice


Break them down once by degrading them twice

All-serve-Me-now-or-I’ll- bury-all-of-you-thrice!

Don’t heed False Prophet when he lures to entice.

There are many false prophets in the United States today. While most of us don’t understand how people are led away by them, they are adept at sniffing out the vulnerable and all of us are sometimes, vulnerable. From television hucksters, to polygamist cults, to Moonies, and online dooms-dayers, all of them have one thing in common: a strong leader that seats himself in the place of God. Mini-cults also, form around teachers and other strong personalities in churches, though most involved would never think of their situation that way. Anytime, we allow another person to place themselves between us and God, we’ve fallen victim to a false prophet. Many of them set dates for the rapture, promise health, wealth, and prosperity and even create their own scripture, but it isn’t false doctrine that exposes them. It is the lack of spiritual fruit that marks them as false because no amount of deception can build love, joy, peace, hope, and self-control into the character of a human being. They won’t point others toward Christ but only, point to themselves. They are spiritual abusers and no different from any other abusive controller. Beware of them and don’t allow them to enslave your joy.





No Joy Found on the Garden Path

No one wants to be a fool but foolishness lives in every heart. It crouches and waits in the corners of the mind watching for an opportunity to pounce. We never outgrow it and it is in those times when we are tired, lonely, in pain, or in any way weakened in spirit, that sin beckons us down the proverbial “Garden Path” to personal disaster. Though the promises are pleasant there is no joy, at any age, found on the garden path of sin.


A Stroll on the Garden Path

Weary but much too restless for a nap…

I went a strolling down the garden path…

Headed aimlessly by careless choosing…

Never considering myself a silly sap…

My life was carefree, everything a laugh!

Sure I was a winner, I was really loosing…

Wandering in garden path’s fateful trap…

Meandering my time, didn’t do the math…

Walking a daydream, wakeful snoozing…

Didn’t care, didn’t wear thinking cap!

God watched but I didn’t do my half;

Into disaster, for-a-bruising- cruising!

Heart unguarded, sin began to tap…

Life now charted on a downhill graph!

Begin to stagger as someone boozing!


End of wooing garden path’s soothing;

Sorrowful exiting chosen garden path…


There’s no sap like an old sap! I thought that by the time I reached my current age, I’d have it all together. I dreamed I’d be wise, gentle, kind and no longer prone to follow the foolishness of my heart. I thought the “Garden Path” would no longer lure me astray through wrong-headed desire. The reality is that we never outgrow the propensity toward sin and I need Jesus at 59, just as badly as I needed Him, when I met Him, at 19. I am still learning, growing, and sometimes, stumbling. Jesus is still helping me up, brushing me off, and setting me back on the Way. Wisdom doesn’t come with age; it comes by grace, when we refuse the beckoning of the heart and follow Jesus. Knowledge is power and wisdom is God’s power applied when we heed His small still voice inside. Love is His graceful action to rescue us when we fail, no matter how young or old we are. How thankful I am for Jesus, the author and the keeper of my joy!


Joy Is Not Virtual

A glittering net of virtual technology has draped itself over us and binds us all together. A new kind of world is born; part reality, part fantasy, filled with all the hopes and dreams of humanity and therefore, rife with sin. The virtual world is us and we are it. It is the collective consciousness of humankind and to live in the modern world, it is required of us to participate. If we give ourselves over to it, we are consumed by it and lose ourselves in a kind of mind-melding madness; a delusional dream that each of has a part in directing. All thinking people are concerned about it but turning away from it isn’t an option. None of get to pick the time we are born in. Our only choice is to live out the life set before us and if we are to survive intact, we must learn to embrace the digital age and resist it at the same time. The alternate choice is fringe isolation or a decent into madness, and often both of these choices are combined as one. Life, love, and joy aren’t virtual but virtual technology, when employed with balance, can enhance our lives.

Moderation is the rule of thumb in all things and everything taken to an extreme is harmful. I am speaking this to a society in which I Phones have become an appendage of the mind. The way we relate to one another has been completely altered by them. The next step is a chip placed on our brains that would make the internet part of us. I wonder if we will really go so far as to surrender our individuality to technology but when I see how addicted people are to their I Phones I sadly, receive my answer. I also, spend much more time than is good for me, online. I have seen others who suffer from what I’ve termed as “Internet Madness” and I have vowed not to let it happen to me and I set boundaries to prevent it but sometimes, I also get sucked in. I sometimes, forget that the people I meet online are partly, as they present themselves and partly, as I imagine them to be. I am not likely to ever know them in reality. That doesn’t prevent me from forming relationships because it is natural for human beings to relate. The people I converse with and share with become important to me. I sometimes, become important to some of them but what they imagine me to be and who I am in reality will never quite mesh. Virtual relationships aren’t real but only, digital imitations of the relationships we dream of. When reality makes its way in and the dream is revealed as false, people are disappointed and hurt. Real life can’t be lived by virtual technology but real people experience real pain in the virtual world.

Lonely, isolated people are the most vulnerable to the temptation of replacing real life with a virtual, online life. The fantasy element can make it even more appealing than the drudgery of life in the work-a-day world. I know what I speak of because my health isolates me and one of the reasons I write and self-publish is because I want daily connections with other people. I try to convey who I am in an honest, forth-right way but I’m human and I am sure that how I present myself isn’t entirely, genuine. I have no control over how others might imagine me. I want the words I contribute to this melding of human minds that we refer to as the Net, to be filled with the joy of Jesus, positive words of life. That doesn’t mean I’m perfect or that I live a perfect life. I’m not a model of anything but a sinful woman saved by grace. My joy is not a virtual creation designed to garner a following. My joy is genuine and living; a product of my very real relationship with Jesus. Sometimes, I get myself in trouble when I look for human companionship online when I should be content to rest in Him. I never mean to mislead, disappoint, or hurt through any of the words I write. I don’t want to present myself as anything other than a woman saved from a sinful life and given a new life in Christ. I am nothing, He is everything and the joy I have in Him sustains me in every kind of suffering, whether that suffering comes from the real world or the virtual world. He is the all in all.

This post took a turn other than what I intended but what I’d like everyone who reads it to take from it is this: Jesus is real and the joy that comes by faith in Him is real and available to all who believe and trust in Him. In Him we can find the balance we need to survive our time in history and not be overcome by it. Dear reader, stay grounded in the faith and don’t be swept away by strong delusion. Cling to Jesus and have faith because He is returning soon!



Distortions of Joy

Words matter. All knowledge and wisdom is contained in words. With our words we either build up or tear down. Relationships are strengthened or torn apart by our words. A parent’s words teach children who they are and how to relate to the world. Loving words increase joy and hateful words increase discouragement. Words matter and as a believer who chooses to share my faith through the words I write, I know God holds me accountable for my words. Every word I write has a life of its own and I am mindful of the forces that my words unleash into the world. I desire that all of my words result in good and not evil. However, they have their own destiny and no matter how carefully I choose my words, I can’t govern the intent applied to them by the reader. Whatever I reveal of my God and myself by my words is coupled with the emotional climate of the reader and altered by their pre-existing mindset. I can’t change what another already knows but only add to or subtract from what they embrace as truth. Though I am accountable for my words, I am not always accountable for how they are received. Though I strive to write with joyful, loving words of encouragement, my words are destined to twisting in the minds of some and I will be misunderstood. The joy through faith in Jesus that I wish to impart is sometimes, distorted in the minds of others and the purpose I intended for my words is frustrated. As a writer who promotes faith in Jesus, I can’t measure my words according to how they are received but according to the perfect words of life found in the Holy Scriptures. I measure my words according to the character of Jesus Christ.


Word Mirrors

Truthful words written down in truth!

Then picked up and held as mirrors,

Reflecting images in another’s mind;

Minds searching for irrefutable proof!

Peer intent into words held as mirrors,

Hoping for kindly reflected Self to find;

Turn angry! March-stomp away aloof!

Seeing ugly Self- image in word mirrors,

Now my truthful words begin to grind!

Seeing you in me, this distorting spoof!

Words now cut-slice as broken mirrors!

Relating is shattered when intent is blind,

Twisting words reflects a distorted truth!

Truthful words reflecting hearts as mirrors,

Reveals what lies hiding in another’s mind.


There are also, among us those talented wordsmiths with another agenda. Their wizardry with words is precise and they have an uncanny ability to see the vulnerability of others and use their words as a salve to sooth their need. Using words as mirrors to bend light and distort even the Holy Words of Scripture to serve the evil intent in their heart. A false prophet may use sound teaching but what is true becomes false when tainted with his desire for control and power. Adept at twisting truth into lies and embellishing them with beautiful words that hurting people want to hear, they endear themselves to their prey. By their eloquence they deceive trusting souls and by speaking hope into their victims’ weaknesses, they exploit them. They are the womanizers, the grifters, the con-men, who seeing God as a useful tool in gaining power over others become preachers, teachers, and rise to great heights in the religious hierarchy. Others create Para-church ministries that evolve into cults. They are the” wolves in sheep’s clothing” that woo the church and then devour her to satisfy their appetite. They can’t be exposed for who they are by their skillfully crafted words but by their actions. Though they bleat as sheep the love of God isn’t in them and when their deceitful purposes are frustrated they will emit a truth-leaking growl. Though by their words they create a Holy House of Mirrors by distortions of joy, they are not characterized by the spiritual fruits that come only by true faith in Jesus.

Remember, words are mirrors and while they have the power to reveal inner truth, words also, have the power to distort. The mirror that reveals each of us as we truly are is the Word of God and in measuring every word written and spoken by human beings by those Holy Words is the safety of ultimate, divine truth.




Sweet Dreams’ Blessed Purpose

Softly dreaming, in various shades of lavender…

Silver threads drifting on long forgotten streams…

The ebbing dark tides of midnight consciousness…

Unravel day-dreams in downy sighs of tranquility…

Release ambition in stages of peaceful surrender…

Forgetfulness clouds rising in cleansing steams…

Seeking deepest depths of total unconsciousness…

Thus enabling reparative sleep’s restoring ability…

Eyes shift rapidly beneath eye lids’ active slumber…

Mind digesting colorful events in vivid dreams…

Calms anxious high tides of hyper-consciousness…

Ensures dreamer’s mental and emotional stability…

Downloading life’s important data to remember…

God whispers guidance through prophetic dreams…

Wise dream on Spiritual streams of consciousness…

Sweet dreams a sure blessing of God’s tranquility…

Imparting through all His holy shades of lavender…

His ultimate purpose impressed in human dreams…

Implanting His loving joy in deep sub-consciousness…

Blessed sleep purposeful gift displays God’s credibility.







A Mocker’s Twisted Joy

Bill (always referred to as William by his mother) was once a bright, happy, little boy. He was the youngest child, with two older sisters, in a family that doted on him. There wasn’t anything his parent’s wouldn’t do for their children but in William his mother, Della especially, saw greatness. She centered her life around him and tended to his every wish and need. Determined not to deny him any opportunity, she sacrificed many things to make sure he attended the right schools, had special lessons, and played whatever sport caught his interest. Della did everything she could to make sure his childhood was the opposite of her own. Her William had the right clothes, the right friends, and never lacked for anything. Bill was the center of his family and understood that the sun, moon, and stars revolved around him; and were purposed to serve him. Bill seemed to have everything but he was denied the joy of serving others and never learned to give but only, to receive.

Della loved Jesus and she taught her children that they should love Him too. She took them to church every Sunday and did her best to raise them “in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.” Della and her husband, the original William, both had servant’s hearts and dedicated many hours to their church. Truly, they were nearly selfless people who gave of themselves freely and seldom asked for anything in return. Young Bill observed them giving away what he thought should belong to only him and grew to resent their church service. He saw how some took advantage of his parents and came to regard them as foolish but that didn’t stop him from availing himself of all he could garner from them. It was jealousy and entitlement that tied the first hard knots in Bill’s heart; knots that anchored him at the center of his universe and strangled any remnant of childish joy. Though Bill knew everything about the Christian faith, he never accepted Christ because that would mean surrendering the throne of self that he knew himself as entitled to. He grew bitter toward God and as a young man, declared himself an Atheist. However, deep inside he knew the reality of God but had no use for a God that required service rather than catering to his whims.

Bill is now known as a bitter, old man. Life was a disappointment to him as the world refused to serve him as his parent’s had. He hates them too for making him believe that everything he desired and wished for would be handed to him on a silver platter. The only thing he really enjoys in life is deriding Christians, in the same way that he derides and abuses his aged parents. Bill didn’t learn to work and doesn’t like to work. He rode his parents financially for as long as he could until, their money ran out. After that they were useless to him and he abandoned them entirely. He assuages any pains of guilt brought on by his actions by trolling social media and haranguing believers. He made it his call in life, to de-evangelize the world. He prides himself on his intellect and reason, as he seeks to free others from purpose, hope, and the joy of faith that he finds most, unreasonable. His methods consist mainly, of rapid-fire statements disguised as questions, designed to overwhelm intellects he regards as inferior to his own. Even though he denies belief in any deity, there is nothing he adores more than blaming God for every evil in the world. In this Bill reveals the truth buried deep in his heart that he is not an Atheist but an apostate. Instead of choosing a faith he knows is Truth, he decided instead to unreasonably rely upon human reason and its inability to prove the existence of God. It was the only, way to keep his throne. He denied a life of purpose and embraced a life of purposeless, self-gratification that left him empty, bitter, and joyless. Bill still proudly, sits at the center of his universe and he sits all alone.

Many blame Bill’s parents for creating the man he is today; but Bill is the only one who can change his destiny. As a child, he observed all their ways and chose to be the kind of man he wanted to be. Any hope for him lies in changed desire and the softening of his hardened heart. Only the Truth that Bill eschews has the power to free him from his isolation, pain, and bitterness. Only, Jesus can loosen the knots of defective non-belief and fill his heart with joy. His only, hope lies in the Mercy of the one true God that he denies.