Life in His Hand

If I can stop one heart from breaking I shall not live in vain If I can ease one life the aching Or cool one pain Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again I shall not live in vain By Emily Dickinson

hello leaves... pumpkins on the vine... warm, cozy fires... under the night sky...                                                                                                                         round harvest moon in crisp autumn air... .....to these nothing can quite compare. There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven~Ecclesiastes 3:1 

Today my brother told me that he saw someone we used to know. Shawn. I was 13 when I moved to Shawn's neighborhood. He was different than I was. He and the kids in his group dressed in cool clothes- 501, pegged Levi's, high tops, and black rock shirts(sometimes shredded) the guys had long hair and some wore eye liner. And lots of silver necklaces, crosses, rings. They also wore Levi jackets with band patches on the back. They didn't care what anybody thought. I was sort of like that too. I remember the first time I went to Shawn's house in the alley around the corner from where I lived. I followed him into his room which he shared with his brother and that was where I was first introduced to heavy metal. He had old Ozzy, Black Sabbath, and Metallica records. I remember their eerie covers and thought, in a way, that they were cool. I typically listened to pop music- Prince, Cyndi Lauper, Madonna- whatever was popular on the radio. I was so ready to embrace this new, d

Out with the old, in with the new. When you become a Christian ALL things become new. You love the things you once hated and hate the things you once loved. Strange how these changes occur.  But what happens when "old" rears it's ugly head, showing up in ways so unimaginable? Things I would have died to experience in my old life, but did not have the opportunity, are springing up now. Tonight my old favorite metal band is playing in a very small, intimate club only a half hour from where I live. Back when, I'd see them in arenas with thousands of fans. Calling them "favorite" is a huge understatement. I truly loved and practically worshiped these guys and their music. Only when I came to know God, did I realize just how empty and vain it all was.  I think of my life now. No it's not perfect. It's not anywhere near perfect. But I have a Friend that goes through everything with me, He even reads my mind. He gives fulfillment and meaning to my lif

And that is only the first question. I've had this idea floating around in my mind for awhile. Problem is it doesn't leave. So here I am...finally giving in to it. I am used to writing my thoughts down. It's  sort of a compulsion of mine or maybe just an addiction. Either way, I'm trapped. Usually I write things in a prayer journal for for only One Person to read, so this is definitely different. It feels strange and foreign, but as with anything, if I continue and do it often enough, it'll become more comfortable and maybe even...normal?   A few of my other questions are:  What should I write? What if nobody reads this? What if somebody actually reads this? Will I say something I shouldn't? Will I edit myself out? Why am I so insecure and lastly...does anybody even care? Not really. So I'm going to do it.