Browsing Category: Journal Pages

“There are some touching illusions which are, perhaps, sublime realities.”—Victor Hugo, Les Miserables                 Book sits on reading table or wall’s top shelf.  Bookmark creeps slowly into its volume between long pauses and time away until I return to it again; but it is always there, waiting for when soul should seek again.                 I […]

                “What happens when you die?” the counselor asks.                 It was a question posed to her, years before, when another learned of her written volumes filled with private thoughts and dreams.                 “I don’t know,” I answer.  “I never really thought about it,” the same answer she gave then.                 “Are there things in […]

                I received an angel-message today.  I was struggling with something in spirit.  I was weak, and mind dwelled somewhere that it shouldn’t.                  Alone, I was burdened and ready to concede to affecting lesser state of spirit.  I was committed to follow where I knew I should not go.  Then, just as I was […]

                “Relationships are not to be understood and fixed and solved; they…are mysteries to be enjoyed.                 The best participants in the mystery we call relationship seem to be the people who don’t need to understand everything, the ones who aren’t out to prove anything, those humble enough to accept when they are wrong and […]

                I believe in miracles, in intercessions and the power of prayer.  I write not to convince another but to speak in testament of my own faith.                 For four days, my daughter has been ill.  Her stomach hurts.  She runs in and out of fever.  Her throat aches.  She makes movement in improvement, then […]

                I shared a story with a friend.  Growing up, we were best friends, but we are all changed in time and life-experience.  We find purpose, or fall into fold with directioned masses, and as we proceed in life—molded, shaped, and directed in experience—people, places, spirits intimate in past become strangers when revisited in the […]

        Do we owe others explanation for our words?  Should we be ready and willing to say more than what stories state and express?         Should we, or have right to, tell when another serves as catalyst or inspiration to a thought; or is such intrusion and offense?  Without invitation, are we wrong […]

                I wrote two letters this morning.  Before beginning, I reflected on how little I’ve invested into friendships and people that hold meaning in my life.  In distractions of the immanent, the more important fell away—never pressing, always there but forgotten in the background—until purposeful consideration returns such back to front and sight.                 This […]