Joe....

It seems that, when a love one passes.. you start to understand the mysteries in that person's life. My brother Joe passed in 2011 of colon cancer .and today is his 50th birthday. My brother had a love for basketball that got us both through our childhood. It was an escape from reality the pressures of the world, and Joe excelled at it. It was a mystery at the time to me, just happy to participate..because  it took Joe to greatness,  something you can see, touch, and feel. His hopes, his dreams, his fears, and everything in between.


Our soul’s personal history with God is often an account of the death of our heroes. Over and over again God has to remove our friends to put Himself in their place, and that is when we falter, fail, and become discouraged. Let me think about this personally— when the person died who represented for me all that God was, did I give up on everything in life? Did I become ill or disheartened? Or did I do as Isaiah did and see the Lord?

To my brother Joe who's birthday is July 13, 1966 - Dec. 11, 2011..R.I.P

Comments

The Good News said…
Even if you found yourself in some prison, whose walls let in none of the world’s sounds – wouldn’t you still have your childhood, that jewel beyond all price, that treasure house of memories? Turn your attentions to it. Try to raise up the sunken feelings of this enormous past; your personality will grow stronger, your solitude will expand and become a place where you can live in the twilight, where the noise of other people passes by, far in the distance. - And if out of this turning-within, out of this immersion in your own world, poems come, then you will not think of asking anyone whether they are good or not.....
April 20, 2019 at 4:34 PM
The Good News said…
To write poetry with heart, we have to use our five senses. Our reader has to experience sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch, our words that we put pen to paper. "It wasn't until she touch my hand, did I feel a warm balming blanket. Worn by age like a leather glove on the surface, her scent of sweet myrrh remind me that these very hands, held me from birth...
April 20, 2019 at 4:36 PM
The Good News said…
When we lose someone, we have an eagerness to have things go back to normal. Especially when your doing caregiving, our heart begins to cry, "Lord, how can we do such things?" I have been reading. Mary Magdalene, who followed Peter and John back to the tomb, arrived after they had left. She remained there alone, weeping. Then she saw the two angels inside the tomb and, on turning round, saw a man whom she did not immediately recognize (Mark 16:9; John 20:11-15).Mary, was just getting to know Jesus, Jesus had cast seven demons out of her (Luke 8:1-3). After that, she became his faithful follower, along with several other women. Mary proved to be more loyal to Jesus than even his own 12 apostles. Instead of hiding after his arrest, she stood near the cross as Jesus died. She also went to the tomb to anoint his body with spices. She is one of the women who helped support Jesus' ministry from their own funds (Luke 8:3). Her great faith earned special affection from Jesus.
She is listed among women who helped support Jesus' ministry from their own funds (Luke 8:3). Her great faith earned special affection from Jesus.

Our loved ones are not dead to us. Its our faith that we believe in those memories that keep us.
July 1, 2021 at 6:22 PM
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