Category: Creative writing

Day 323-Mystery of Easter

Easter is a time of joy;
It is a time of true love.
When God showed the world He cared,
And came down to us from above.

He sent His Son to us all,
That we might be forgiven.
That we all might learn to forgive,
And in faith go on living.

He spared not even His life;
So that we might come to believe,
And understand His love for us.
So that loving one another, we might achieve.

For God so loved the world,
He gave His only Son to die,
So that those who believe in Him,
Should have everlasting life.

This is God’s love for us all.
This is God’s gift of grace to us each.
This is why we have faith in Him.
This is the Mystery of Easter which we teach!

Have a happy and Blessed Easter!

Day 322-Easter Season (Limerick)

Easter Season is so near,
With bunnies, eggs and cheer.
But what of the cross;
The tomb can’t go lost,
Or Easter’s message, won’t be dear!

Day 321-When I Look Upon the Sacred Cross

Each year as Easter rolls around, I find myself once again in awe of our Lord and Savior and the sacrifices He made for each of us. He created us beautiful and perfect in His sight, but we chose to turn our backs on him and follow in the path of sin. He spent centuries trying to bring us back by showing His power and wrath with floods, famine, plagues and destruction of the worst of us, but never all of us. He spared any that showed Him reverence and faithfulness at all. He continued to love us and when He realized that we were a foolish lot and these things only scared us back to Him for a little while, He chose another route.

He didn’t want to destroy us, but saw that through sin we were destroying ourselves. He took pity on us. He was and is GOD! He could have destroyed us and started over. He could have reached into our hearts and minds and changed them Himself, making us follow Him. He didn’t do that! He wanted a relationship with us. He wanted us to come to Him. He wanted to save as many of us as possible. He wanted us to want Him and love Him. He didn’t want puppets, he wanted children that came to Him in love and served Him in love.

There for He gave us grace.

Long ago He had established that the wages of sin was death. This was a death that would forever separate us from Him, and condemn us to an eternity of pain and suffering. He didn’t want to lose us all to this fate.

So once again He extended a hand to us in saving grace, the hand of Christ His only son. He sent him in the flesh, human like us, and able to feel and know our every pain and temptation. But yet fully divine and perfect and totally undeserving of the suffering He endures for us.

God could have done it any other way, but instead He chose to come to earth and become all that we were, except that He was sinless, in order to save us from all that we are even to this day, which is a sinful and totally undeserving people. He bled and died, was whipped, scourged, beaten and crucified that we might have everlasting life and have it abundantly. He died and rose again, conquering the grave so that our deaths might be a doorway to eternal life with him instead of eternal damnation.

He did all this out of love and a wanting and willingness to have a relationship with us. We did nothing to deserve this outpouring of love yet he freely gave it. We still do not deserve his love, grace and forgiveness, yet we have it and he continues to give it.

How sad it is that it took such drastic measures for us to realize that He wants us to turn our back on sin and follow him.

He didn’t have to die; He chose to do it for us. He chose to take our sins upon him. He could have just as easily destroyed us. Instead, He was able to “destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three days,” (Matthew 26:61) hoping that we might finally realize who He is and all we mean to Him.

When I look upon the sacred cross,
My heart is broken in my chest,
My lungs are still, my breath a loss,
My soul to Him my one bequest.

He gave Himself for me his all,
That I might live instead of die.
My tears a flood begin to fall,
His pain, my grief and so I cry.

He owes me nothing, He is my God
My sins and burdens, He freely takes.
My life He spares with just a nod,
But with shame my soul still rakes.

Upon that cross He hung for all,
A sinful undeserving lot.
It took His life for us on our knees to fall,
And find the love that sin forgot.

As I look upon that sacred cross,
And see the pain He bore for me,
So that from Him I’d not be lost,
My eyes are open, I finally see.

His hand in grace He now extends,
With faith in Him I do believe
In God whose love has shown no ends
So His service I will never leave.

Day 320-Inspirations of Easter

Easter is a time of great joy in the Christian community. Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ died in our place, a fallen and unworthy people, so that we might have forgiveness of sins, love, hope, strength, and salvation in order that we might inherit the Kingdom of God, and in so doing, be commissioned to bring others to Him while living in the promise of His continued faithfulness to us and ours to Him. The following Bible verses are wonderful reminders at Easter time of all that He has done and continues to do for us, as well as what He hopes to inspire in us.

God made an enormous sacrifice in order that we might know His true love for us. Think about that for a moment, God made the sacrifice because he loved us. We did nothing to deserve His love, but He loved us, and He made the sacrifice for our salvation. John 3:16 expresses this all in one beautiful verse.
16For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.

The image of Christ on His way to the cross should also be a source of strength for us. He showed us how if we call upon the Holy Spirit and put our lives in God’s hands, he will never forsake us, and will indeed give us all the strength we need to accomplish whatever we face.
42”If you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.” 43Then an angel from heaven appeared to Him and gave Him Strength.
Luke 22:42-43

The Easter Holiday is also a symbol of hope. Jesus is our hope for forgiveness and new life. Because of Him, anyone that turns to Him in true acceptance and repentance, can and will be forgiven and saved. He showed this even as He hung dying on the cross, when he extended salvation to another condemned man.
43Truly I say to you, today you shall be with me in Paradise. Luke 23:43

In Romans 1:16, Paul reminds us that the very salvation of those who would come to believe in Jesus is why He endured the cross. Anyone that calls upon His name and believes in him and is not ashamed shall share in this salvation.
16For I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation to everyone that believeth.

The verses known as the Great Commission are the most inspiring, uplifting, and comforting for the Easter season, because they show that not only are we saved, we are claimed and commissioned to act on Jesus’ behalf. Not only did Jesus die for us, but He rose again, and continues to live in each of us. He believes in us so much that he charges us with the work of His kingdom. We are to gather others to Christ, teaching and instructing them so that they too might be saved and go out to help bring His message to even more. And the best part of all, He promises to be with us always, no matter how long it takes and no matter what we come up against. We will never be alone. He will always be there and His Holy Spirit will fill us and enable us to do all we need to do in His name.
19”Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, 20 teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.
Matthew 28:19-20
Wow, what a wonderful God we have. He believes in us, He loves us, and He died for us and rose again that we might have life and have it abundantly. The story in itself is its own inspiration. We have life, and the ability to bring that life to others through Jesus Christ. God Bless us all this and every Easter.

Day 319-The Adult Easter Egg Hunt

Our family has its own traditions, one such, is the annual Adult Easter Egg Hunt. My mother and aunt, decided many years ago that the kids weren’t the only ones that should have this fun. Therefore, they devised a hunt for the adults.

To participate, you have to be high school age or older. There is only one egg per person. Once you have found an egg, you may watch but you may not find, or direct others to hidden eggs. At the beginning a collection is taken from the players; pretty much whatever cash you have on hand. This is divided between the eggs starting with a large amount and the getting smaller in each egg. One egg is a Booby prize and could have anything that amuses the hiders in it. All the eggs are different colors and sizes. The two top prize winners each year have to hide the eggs the following year. This hunt takes place each year in an area between 3 old barns and a field behind them. There is a mass of old implements, old natural gas tanks, old tractors, old vehicles, hay, rocks, trees, and even a small well house in this area, so hiding places are aplenty.

Several years ago, there were about 11 adults hunting. Among these, were myself and my brother, Glenn, whose mission in life is to harass me, and pretty much always has been. That being said, you have the catalyst for this particular hunt. Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to the rest of us, at least at the beginning, he was the first person to find his egg. Remember the rules, well he doesn’t follow rules well.

As the rest of us diligently hunted for an egg, taking clues from the two hiders, Glenn went around moving the eggs that he found after finding his, and distracting the other hunters so that they wouldn’t realize what he was doing.

This created a situation where certain ones of us were hunting very hard in areas that should have eggs, but no longer did. Others were finding eggs in places that shouldn’t have them, had been previously checked, and now mysteriously did. Eventually, as the hunt went on, the hiders and other hunters became aware of what was going on, especially after they were practically directed to an egg.

My poor dad became collateral damage, as dad and I searched an area with no egg for quite a long time. Glenn allowed him to hunt along because he didn’t want to make me suspicious. Once I gave up and moved on to another site, Dad miraculously found an egg in a place we had both looked dozens of times. Of course we found out later that it was because Glenn was carrying it around in his pocket the whole time so I wouldn’t find it.

By this time everyone else had found an egg, and become aware of what Glenn was doing. I was the last one. For this reason they were all watching with bated breath, to see what he had planned for me and my egg. He kept me hunting for a while longer, and others even chimed in as to where there might still be an egg, even if they knew there was not one there. Then they even all collaborated to make me believe that they really didn’t know where the last one was hidden. This was easily believable since they had all been moved around so much, and the hiders only knew what Glenn told them.

Finally I was directed to a spot around the little well house. I had scoured this area earlier and knew at that time there was no egg. Glenn was all too interested in me finding this egg, so I knew something wasn’t right. Sure enough on top of the roof under some wood and trash was a small blue egg.

Now I am told that this egg originally held pennies as the booby prize, but by the time I found it, those had become part of another party’s egg. Mine held a small square piece of paper with a hand written note, which left no doubt as to whom was responsible. It was covered in my brother’s clever little wit, and read:……………………………..?

Well I know it had something to do with winning and/or being the Booby prize myself, but I no longer remember how he worded it. Regardless, he was extremely proud of himself, and I vowed revenge, which I am still waiting to collect. And so there you have it, the hunt goes on!

P.S. I am still waiting for my revenge. That being said, we actually haven’t had this hunt in a few years because due to weather, time, and other factors it just got missed. But my oldest daughter and I have had some new prize ideas. Most of the players are over 21 now, so we were thinking of mixing it up with travel liquor bottles in some of the eggs. Of course Glenn’s booby prize is still a work in progress……:)

Day 314-The Written Page

I live my life through ink and quill;
Each thing that happens a story still.
Sometimes events are very sad,
While others make me very mad.

Some have lessons in them to learn;
While others in my soul still burn.
Still others are very happy;
But sometimes words for them get sappy.

My life lies on the written page,
For others to read and gauge.
But for me it’s just how I deal;
And get past each notch in life’s spinning wheel.

Day 299-Who’s Gonna Shoot the Dog?-A Humorous Anecdote About Last Wishes

So there they were watching a scene right out of a “Far Side” cartoon. Six red neck men who had it all figured out. They had a huge bon fire built-in the field. They had an air tight metal box that should be able to withstand the heat and keep the ashes contained. They had the dog rounded up and surrounded between them. And they had six shot guns in hand.

What a sight they were, with old straw hats on their heads, well-worn blue jeans, and faded pearl snap shirts. Each one staring at a frightened dog that had no idea what he had done wrong. It was all ready according to their plan except for two details. The first of which was who was gonna shoot the dog? The second detail should have been the first, but none of them were aware of it.

You see, it all began with 98-year-old Granny, whom had passed away three days earlier, leaving a large adoring family of country hicks behind, and a few last requests.

The thing about large families is sometimes they get spread out, and those not closest to home (Granny’s home) might not hear all the news in people’s lives back home. The bigger things tend to find their way down the grapevine. Some smaller events just might not be important enough to anyone but those directly involved, and so once dealt with they are forgotten and not passed along to everyone.

There is good reason for this too. Most of us don’t rightly care to get a holler every time Aunt Margaret has to have her toe nail cut out, Uncle John gets a fishing hook stuck in his behind, cousin Mark falls in the creek trying to walk and look cool for pretty girls, sister Jean’s cat dies because she plops her 50X behind on it, or one of Granny’s dogs dies. Granted these things are tragedies to those immediately involved, but the rest of us just don’t want to know.

Most of us aspire to that cliché, “ignorance is bliss” in such situations. Well there were those among us on this particular day that would have appreciated if at least one of these gems had indeed been passed along.

So anyway, three days earlier after Granny’s passing, all manner of red neck, country bumpkin relatives from everywhere Hicksville, USA, had descended on the old home place where Granny had lived to come pay their respects. It is truly amazing what a family reunion a funeral gathering can be.

As everyone became re-acquainted with one another, many stories and such about Granny were passed along. In the process, the subject of Granny’s last requests became a hot topic of concern. You see, Granny had every last detail mapped out for after her life from not only who got what and who got not, but what was to be said, sung, done and who was to be buried with her at her funeral. The only detail missing or so they thought was who was to carry out that one final wish, since it had to be done by the next day, in order to be ready for the funeral.
Granny’s final wish was that the ashes of her dog be buried with her. This caused quite a stir among all the relatives gathered there visiting.

My parents and I were at the funeral home seeing to the funeral arrangements, so it became clear to the gathered throng that they would have to handle this last request on their own. In amongst this band of cowboy, red neck, hicks sat Fred, Granny’s dog, alive and well and enjoying much attention, oblivious at this point to the pity he was receiving.
The first order of business was to decide how they were going to accomplish this doggy cremation, and worst of all who was going to have to shoot the dog so that he could be cremated. So sad a task they had in hand because Fred was still a good dog with years left in him, but they had to honor Granny.

Since Granny had hand-picked her six pall bearers, it was decided that they would decide how this would be carried out. Once all was ready, they circled up and drew straws on who had to put poor Fred down. In case the first chosen couldn’t do it, they would all bare arms and be prepared so that surely one of them would be able to carry out Granny’s last wishes.

That brings us back to where we were with all preparations ready and six red necks with shot guns circled around poor Fred, as he stared back at them wide-eyed and sheepishly. The rest of the gathered family watched from the house. Children cried and adults shook their heads and waited.

It was into this scene that my parents and I, returned from making Granny’s funeral arrangements. We had seen the bon fire behind the house and the crew standing around outside, but it really hadn’t concerned us that much. After all, what better way to reminisce then around a good fire?

We entered the house to find everyone watching through the windows, not outside around the fire. We knew something was amiss. Therefore, we questioned what was going on. One tearful child answered, “We are waiting to see who’s gonna shoot the dog?”

“Shoot the dog! Why on earth do they wanna shoot poor Fred?!” asked Mom.

“Granny wants his ashes buried with her. They can’t very well cremate him if he’s still alive,” the same child answered.

“Oh my goodness!” Mom exclaimed as she looked around with a new appreciation for this very surreal scene. Then it hit her and she burst out laughing. She laughed so hard she couldn’t speak, and tears came to her eyes.

The crowd, turned to see what she could possibly find so funny about this obviously sad dilemma. Dad walked in as one of my cousins demanded to know what her hysterics were about.

“How can you possibly find the impending death of Fred so outrageously funny, have you no heart?”

“Death of Fred, the dog, why? He was fine when we left,” said Dad.

“Well they’re gonna shoot him, quick and humane like so as they can cremate him like Granny wanted. Just look outside. We were all watching to see who would have to do it,” said Uncle George.

“Oh no,” Dad said, running for the door, and throwing it open with a bang that startled the six-gun toting, doggy doomsday, do gooders of sorts.

Fred took this distraction and ran behind dad. “Its ok Fred, no one’s gonna shoot you today or any other day.”

“But what about Granny’s last request?” all six asked.

“Guess you boys hadn’t heard that Milo made that deal with Granny about three months ago,” Dad smiled.

“Milo, what do ya mean? Where is Milo?” they asked as Mom appeared in the door, having finally regained her composure, holding a small silver Erne inlaid with Milo’s picture, and engraved with his name, date of birth and death.

Fred reappeared, sitting himself in front of Dad now. I swear I saw him shrug in a sigh of relief, as he cocked his head to one side, staring at the harbingers of his past doom.
“I wish you guys could have seen yourselves standing in that circle, debating on who was gonna shoot the dog! My gosh, do you really think Granny would have made us bury a dog with her that was still alive?” Mom snickered and then burst into laughter again followed by many others.

Well since we had a bon fire to watch, we gathered around it to reminisce about Granny and the kids roasted marshmallows and weenies. Funeral or not, you can’t waste a good fire. Besides, that’s one camp fire story no one will ever forget.

As for Fred and Milo, well Fred died of natural causes at our house ten years later. He and Milo reside in a pet cemetery we started on the farm. You see, apparently the cemetery where Granny’s buried has an association and rules kind of like those neighborhood associations in them fancy sub divisions. Believe it or not, it has a no pets allowed in the occupants residences (graves) rule. Now don’t that beat all!

Day 275-The In and Out of An Idea

Some days ideas just jump into my head,
But then they look around at all the clutter,
Get scared and jump back out again.

Often I catch them before they get away,
But then they just dangle there
Like a fish on a hook waiting to be reeled back in.

The problem is no time, no room, and
No clear thought process that lasts
Long enough bring them to fruition.

If they get away then often I see them,
Peeping in the window reminding me they tried this once already,
And they still don’t see an opening large enough for them to fit.

So I think on them, trying to figure how to make them work.
Often this annoys them, and instead of seeing my solutions,
They disappear taking half my work with me.

This they seem to do just to punish me
For not paying closer attention and making them room
When they first arrived on the scene.

Why do good ideas always come at bad times;
When you have no access to pen and paper,
And then they expect your full attention and memory?

For example, in the shower;
Even if you were to have a pen and paper,
Just try writing in the shower, it will melt and you will never remember it all.

Day 224-Christmas Reflections

When I gaze upon the Christmas tree,
Oh what beauty I do see.
With bows of green and balls of gold,
What a wondrous tradition of old.

As a whole it’s magnificent,
An ever green that seems heaven-sent.
It shines with light from up above,
A bright reflection of our Savior’s love.

When most look they see only a tree,
Decorated for all to see.
But it is more than meets the eye,
A lasting tradition by and by.

The tree itself so evergreen,
A symbol of eternal life it means.
The lights that twinkle oh so bright,
A reflection of Christ, the world’s true light.

And what of the balls that glitter there,
They reflect the world around we share.
Look closely in them and you will see,
A revolving picture of you and me.

They continuously reflect what passes by
Hidden moments of the world they ply.
Most don’t look closely enough to see,
For each little happening flickers in these.

They capture the bad and the good,
In fleeting moments as only they could.
Look closely next time at these decorations
And watch their constant Christmas reflections.

See the joy in one child’s face,
While on another sadness takes its place.
See all the beauty and festiveness,
And then the rush and anxiousness.

Look close in that ball and watch the world
As each moment is unfurled.
What reflections are seen there;
Is Christmas being spread with care?
Are the reflections that you see,
Worthy of Christmas as they should be?
Are they reflecting Christ to the world,
In the pictures there as the glass balls twirl?

It’s up to each of us to do our part,
So that the Christmas reflections are from our heart.
Christmas reflections shown on a tree,
Should be filled with love and joy for the world to see.

Day 222-Christmas Magic

When I was very young, my parents celebrated Christmas with us, steeped in German traditions that brought life and magic to the holiday. They went over and above in order to make the magic of Christmas real.

In our home the big celebration was an open house at my mom’s on Christmas Eve. On the 24th the house came alive with family and friends. There were decorations, a huge tree, tons of food, drink sweets, music, gifts and fun.

For us, the kids, all the wonderment began on Christmas Eve morning, but for my dedicated parents, the work began late on the 23rd. You see, my parents sent us to bed around nine o’clock on the 23rd in a house with not one decoration or obvious sign of Christmas, no tree, nothing.

When we awoke on Christmas Eve morning, the excitement and magic of Christmas had arrived at our house while we had slept. We came down the stairs to air-filled with the wonderful aromas of food cooking for Christmas Eve dinner. The house was decorated, and in the living room, was a Christmas tree that stood from floor to ceiling tall and almost as big around. It was fully adorned with decorations. In those days, the decorations consisted of beautiful glass balls and birds, golden garland, silver tinsel, and old-fashioned bubble lights, along with hundreds of colored twinkle lights which were ringed in little plastic star bursts. It was gorgeous, like a Christmas card in our living room. And best of all there were gifts of all sizes under the tree.

We were allowed to peak at the tree, but then the doors were closed and we weren’t allowed in again until time for gifts and guests. When we were older, we could help set the dining room table which was next to the tree, but we were not allowed to snoop around the gifts. Of course we couldn’t help but try to see names on the gifts as we worked, in such a way as to not get caught snooping. That was a tedious endeavor, I assure you. As soon as our work was done the door was closed again, and we were back to waiting.

The best part of this whole thing was the knowledge that Santa Claus had done it all, the tree, the gifts, decorated the house. He and his elves had been here while we slept. I know what you are thinking, “But Santa doesn’t start delivering until Christmas Eve.”

Well that’s right, but Christmas Eve starts at midnight, and it takes him all day since there are so many children in the world. And since he knew we had our Christmas that day, my parents had a standing agreement that he would come by our house before daylight on Christmas Eve.

I think the must have given him fresh turkeys for his Christmas table from my dad’s turkey farm each year to seal the deal because they quite often, got him to do special favors like this.

I remember quite well one of those favors he did for them. I was very young, perhaps 5 or 6 that particular Christmas. The day had transpired as I described previously. The extended family was there. We had read the Christmas story from the Bible and opened all our gifts.

I had wanted a bicycle that year, but there wasn’t one under the tree. We had begun to entertain guests and eat food. General merriment was being made all through the house; there was laughing and stirring but thankfully no mouse.
About half way through the evening, the door bell rang, as it had been doing all evening to announce more guests. I was told to open the door and so I did.

Outside on the step, there stood a brand new, red bicycle with training wheels. No one was there with it. Everyone I knew was in the room behind me watching. I heard jingle bells in the distance, and I searched the sky but never saw him, only heard the sleigh bells. Santa had made a special delivery, and was quick to be on his way so that I never saw him. I was excited and disappointed all at once.
I’m still not sure how my parents and “Santa” pulled that one, off and to this day, those who know aren’t talking. I do know it was probably the most exciting and memorable Christmas ever. The magic couldn’t have been more real that year. It was wonderful and fun.

After my special delivery had been safely ushered through the house to the utility room, where it couldn’t break anything if it fell over, the party continued as before. I looked out the window and up at the sky often that evening, never quite sure how Santa could get away so fast, and secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of his sleigh somewhere in the sky. I never saw it, but then that’s what made it magic.