begin to make plans for their future, I wonder why my kids never believed they should do the same. We are told not to ask, but I can't let go of the questions, "What did I do wrong?.. Could I have done more to help them?.. Didn't I teach them confidence?" I could go on. What happened here?
Their Addiction~My Journey, “You Never Know”
The overwhelming source of 'sin' being laid on me by Satan himself was a sham. He used my compassion, empathy, and sorrow against me. The devil wanted me to soak in the loss of His game. He was happy watching me suffer for something I did not do. Even my anger became his play toy. Justifying it just as he did depression, sadness, remorse, and every other emotion and feeling I used to batter my soul.
Poetry – Women of Hope
For the Women of Hope community, fighting to stay sober and recover
Their Addiction ~ My Journey, “I Dried Her Hair”
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw us in that bathroom, her eyes closed and mine filled with pain. Will she ever know the depths of my love? Who knew God would use a moment blow drying her hair to bring about a profound reminder of hope.
Poetry-The Warriors Cry
I hear the warriors crying out in broken words, but free. All for love, they call upon, the power to rescue me.
Their Addiction ~ My Journey, “Fleeing the Prison”
You cannot love others as yourself if you do not love yourself first.
A Safer Soul
Through the storm..We can find peace.
Random Thoughts- Jesus Loves You
Jesus Love You. Period.
Mental Health ~ The Journal #75-Emerging
There is darkness in information overload, constant debating turned confrontation and reading the barrage of opinions and rude remarks. We listen, unpack, then regurgitate it back to the masses. All the while, filling our thoughts with worldly nonsense in a brain not capable of holding more. Processing is a function that tires you out. If you don't prioritize your ideas, you will lose ground in mental clarity and stability.
Poetry- Yes, Black Lives Matter
Our hearts cry, and our blood looks the same.
For dead men are speaking, to the world from the grave.


