Daily Devotion 10-19-17


James 1:21

21.   Wherefore lay apart all filthiness and superfluity of naughtiness, and receive with meekness the engrafted word, which is able to save your souls.


What God said to me: Keep the old man dead, already, and listen to Me!


Daily Devotion 10-18-17


Matthew 15:11

  1. Not that which goeth into the mouth defileth a man; but that which cometh out of the mouth, this defileth a man.


What God said to me:

  The more you speak, the less you hear. Stop talking so much, and start listening to Me!

Daily Devotion 10-17-17


Proverbs 3:5-6

5. Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.

6. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and He shall direct thy paths.


What God said to me:

“Trust Me. I’ve got this. Learn to listen to Me, obey My words, and you’ll never be led astray.”

A Quiet Moment

I fell out of bed at 1:30 this morning. My bed consisted of two air mattresses: one given to me by my cousin Dana, and one by the VA VALOR program in Davenport, Iowa. They both decided to take permanent dirt naps, sinking me toward the floor over 2 hours while I tried to sleep and finally rolling me off, so I drove to the nearest Wal-Mart and purchased a new one. By then I was too awake to go back to sleep, so I inflated and dressed it and have been watching it from the corner of my good eye. It is holding. When I finally do try it out I pray it holds. If it, too, fails to hold its air, I’ll sign up for the Y.

This 3rd story apartment I live in is minimalistic. The studio so far only has the air mattress, what clothes I have hung up and a set of electronic drums in the closet/bathroom, and a glass desktop and leather swivel chair in the dining room/kitchen. The central room currently is only good for dancing, although the old hardwood floors creak terribly and so force me to slow dance with myself. While at Wal-Mart I bought one of everything just in case, so the cupboards are only waiting for shelf paper to be stocked with such meager items as a bachelor needs: cans of chili, boxes of mac and cheese, packets of ramen noodles and such. The fridge currently houses mostly drinks. I’ve got silverware, pots and pans, one plate, one bowl and a Tupperware container for the sugar I use in my coffee (brewed in the new Black and Decker coffee maker I picked up).  Then there’s that pesky shower caddy that doesn’t fit, so I stocked up on duct tape, too.

I moved here to Rock Island, Illinois two weeks ago from Aberdeen, Washington, where I lived for four short months. The circumstances of my stay in the Great Northwest will be for now a mystery to you until such time I care to share them. Let’s just say that the events I had hoped to come to fruition didn’t. So, with heavy heart I drove here (over 2,000 miles) and have set up camp. This is my ancestral home; there are relatives buried everywhere. My sweet Nana, Aunt June – all of 93 years old – lives across the Mississippi River in Davenport, Iowa. I’ve two cousins (Nana’s boys) here as well. I’m uber excited to build strong and lasting relationships with them.

At 58 years of age, this is the first time I will have ever lived alone. Time to focus on my writing. The much awaited sequel to OOBERS: Kalamazoo is a third of the way done and should be published by Labor Day. I’m also working on a novel involving a focused and dutiful golem determined to retrieve an old Jewish village’s treasure. There is also a sci-fi TV series cousin Dana and I wrote about space scrappers that we hope will be picked up by a network. So the table is set, awaiting the fruits of my labours. This is my job now and, like most, I will work 8-10 hours a day. The ‘office’ is quiet but for the steady drone of a box fan on the floor, and the mild weather is a temperate and ideal environment for creativity. I’ll deal with the summer heat when it arrives.

Today is my child Sandy/Andy’s birthday. To be honest, I’m still struggling with her/his transgenderism. There is for me much potential for acceptance and support, but in reality potential isn’t implementation. Andy knows I love him regardless of what he thinks and feels and believes; he also knows it is difficult to abandon the name and gender I’ve associated with her/him from birth. Today I gladly celebrate the anniversary of his arrival into the world 35 years ago. (an hour later) Just spent some quality time talking on the phone with Andy. There’s no way for me to describe the wonderful, fulfilling experience of being in the company of one of your children, sharing your undying love for each other with casual familiarity born from a lifetime of an incredible, uniquely precious and unbreakable connection.

And then, last but certainly not least I bring good tidings from the world of my beloved granddaughter Lulu, still undergoing radiation treatment but fighting it all like a true champ. AND she’s now a big sister, which only adds to the magic of her life!  Her new baby brother is Revin, and not only does he have all his fingers and toes, he’s already developing his own little attitude. There’s no doubt in my mind and heart than Lulu will kick this cancer’s ass, and that she, her older brother Kyler and younger brother Revin will have rich, full lives because of the special love they share.

Ok, now I’m so tired all I can think of is sliding into my closet for about a day and a half. After, though, let the Muse sing! I found a beautiful framed quote in a second-hand store yesterday and have it hanging on the wall by my work station. It says, “Make time for the quiet moments as God whispers and the world is loud”. Indeed!

make time for the quiet moments

A Great Idea


Every time I turn on the news all I hear about is the left complaining about how President Trump is going to implement a mass deportation of ‘undocumented workers’, ripping children from their mothers’ arms, throwing maids and migrant workers and taxi drivers and landscapers and beef packing plant workers back over the border, sending grandmothers packing, yanking kids from progressive learning institutions and forcing them to finish their educations in substandard Mexican schools. There are those who are teaching ‘dreamers’ how to avoid immigration agents by not ever answering their doors. This, by the way, does not bode well for UPS drivers and American Clearinghouse Sweepstake workers. In other words, the left won’t be happy until we just leave illegal aliens alone. Even more so, the left would like nothing less than open our doors wide open to all our southern neighbors. All this good will gave me an idea.

Perhaps someone reading this article will have the courage to find out where one of these progressives live. Chances are he’ll have a nice, big privacy fence around his property. Find a nice, big family of illegal aliens and have them climb over his fence one fine night, pitch a tent, hook up to his electricity, cable and water and settle in. Before the Liberal wakes up that morning, make sure you convince the interlopers to go to the local ER to get the scrapes and bruises they got while climbing over his fence looked at, and then have the hospital bill the homeowner. When the pro-amnesty fellow looks out his window and finds a family squatting in his back yard, he’ll no doubt run outside and demand they leave the premises. This is where you step up as their advocate and explain that they are merely undocumented neighbors. Remind him that you are demanding the same rights for this family that he wants for all the other undocumented people in the country. Hopefully you’ll force him to say that they’re on his property illegally. Hopefully you’ll make him call the authorities. Hopefully you’ll get it all on tape.

Wouldn’t it be great if this started a movement? Why, we could potentially solve the illegal alien problem! Unfortunately there aren’t that many liberals to go around. They’ll have to allow another seven or eight families to move in with them. Perhaps we could get the President to issue an Executive Order…

Long Overdue Update


Since my last entry, my Three year old daughter Lulu (diagnosed with neuroblastoma stage four last fall) has completed 6 rounds of chemo, which eliminated all the cancer in her body except for what’s left of the primary tumor around one of her kidneys, and has recently undergone surgery in which the surgeon removed 90% of the tumor. She has come through it all like a true champion and refuses to let this slow her down. Lulu is my true hero. She is scheduled to begin radiation soon to knock out the rest of it, and we all know it can be difficult on her body. The doctors are very confident Lulu is going to beat this, and am already using her case as a success story. I urge you all to continue to pray for my little Lulu; ask the Lord to heal her any way He wants, for His will be done. Pray also for her parents, my son Joey and his strong, wonderful wife Grace, that He might touch them in a special way to give them the faith and strength to care for Lulu as she battles this cancer. Thank you, Lord, for Your love.


I now live in Washington state – a long way from Florence, Alabama. My home is in Aberdeen, home of Curt Cobain. It is located at the eastern end of Grays Harbor, near the mouth of the Chehalis River, and southwest of the Olympic Mountains. I am only nineteen miles from the Pacific Ocean. The Great Northwest is far, far different from the muggy Deep South. The temperature this winter has not dropped below 30, but there has been plenty of rain and just a few rare snow flurries. For me, being around so much water brings out a primal love of the sea. I can hardly wait for summer so I can wade in the immensity of the ocean. Looking west from the beach ignites the poet in me.



There is even more exciting news in progress that I would love to share with you, but am going to wait until certain events come to fruition. Thank you, dear reader, for your incredible patience and love!


Love Grows Where Love Shows