Pencil in His Hand: A Mother's Journal of Stories, Thoughts, and Poems.

  A short inspirational story Maisie knew that there  wasn't much time, both literally and figuratively, as she jogged the last stretch towards the soon to depart train. At least a nearly missed train was of little import compared to the state that the world was in. Maisie sank gratefully onto the nearest seat and allowed herself to relax. All around the train, workers and students were sitting slumped before their phones, or tablets in some cases. Maisie waited a little before taking her own device out of her  jacket pocket.  She bowed her head slightly and as was her habit, she prayed silently for her fellow travellers:  a teenage boy, whose long  legs stuck out  into the passageway, an older woman seemingly lost in a world of bright jewels on her screen, a man, probably in his thirties, his face sombre as he scrolled through what was probably the news. And many more. The compartment was full as usual: a swaying, clicking, clacking capsule of humanit...

 Poems and a Mini Story Pretty posy Jungle Gym Life comes to meet us at the bars which seem to reach up to the stars And like a child, we look up high; count metal bars and strips of sky Anxiety holds us in its grip: we're scared to fall, to stumble, slip Then father points to lowest bar; says, don't look up; start where you are And  so in life, it is the best to trust in God, to take one step Pomegranate in our garden A new name Slowing Down We're slowing down enough today to come to the  park so the girls can play: up and down, and round and round; speeding up, yet slowing down A Short, yet Powerful Story This is a very short story. A story of countless lives cut short: Sudden. Tragic. Violent. And, it is a story about the God-Man who allowed His own life to be cut short; so that even in our most desperate times there may be hope. And life eternal. ******* Yet... Evil threatens to overwhelm: It threatens to  overwhelm It troubles our vision, and  invites doubt...

  Rapture. A Mini Story 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 "Our brothers and sisters, we want you to know the truth about those who have died, so that you will not be sad, as are those who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will take back with Jesus those who have died believing in Him. What we are teaching you now is the Lord's teaching: we who are alive on the day the Lord comes will not go ahead of those who have died. There will be the shout of command, the archangels voice, the sound of God's trumpet, and the Lord Himself will come down from heaven. Those who have died believing in Christ will rise to life first; then we who are living at that time will be gathered up along with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will always be with the Lord. So then encourage one another with these words." Maria listened intently to the preacher as he read the passage from the Bible. I don't remember reading that ...

  The Letter. A Longer Short Story. Free Inspirational Read. An inspirational story to tug at your heart The decluttering expert’s words came back to her as she reached up to the top shelf to retrieve the dilapidated box. “You can’t clean until you’ve decluttered.” It made sense, Pippa supposed. Besides, she needed something more substantial than dusting to take her mind off of her pain. She desperately needed a project that would keep her shattered self busy. Anything to keep her from crumbling into a million pieces on the bedroom floor. Perhaps it hadn’t been a wise idea though, to begin in the room she’d shared with Mac for over thirty years. She stiffened her spine and placed the dusty relic on her side of the bed. The box’s contents weren’t a mystery to her: in fact, she and the box had lived in the same house for many years. As each birthday had passed, as each letter had been read, Pippa’s mother had placed them in the box. Not in the careful way of some, with sentimental ri...

  Mr River: A Story and  Poems River inspiration for your day The girl stood on the river bank. She warmed her face by lifting it to the sun, then she cooled her feet in the delicious, twinkling water. She realized that the river could speak, so she asked it a question. "River, where were you born?" "Oh," smiled the river, "thank you for asking. I was born in the purple-blue mountains. I was just a little thing then." "And where have you travelled?" Asked the girl, her face a-light with curiosity. "I have rushed through the mountains, before meandering through the countryside and towns. I have seen many things along my way." "And now, Mr River? Where are you going now?" "Well, child, I am an old river now. I have grown, and I have become deeper and wider. I must pour all of my waters into the ocean. I cannot keep them to myself anymore." The girl trailed her hand through the small waves. "You are very generous, ...

  Tiny Stories of Hope: Agatha Free coffee break read Winter was hitting the Cape of Storms hard this year. Agatha could feel the sting of the icy air through her layers of clothing as she made her way to the bus shelter.  Just as she reached it, the rain began lashing down. By standing on the bench, she and her fellow commuters were able to keep their legs and feet dry. "In times of trouble, He will shelter me." God's love warmed her as she recalled the verse she'd read whilst eating her breakfast. Agatha's eyes met those of a fellow traveller, and she smiled before offering him a tract. "May I give you one of these? It's all about our true shelter." *** Bible verse: Psalm 27:5 (GNB) *** Shelter Whom shall I fear? What shall I dread? I shall smile and remember my Strong Tower instead. *** Story and poem copyright: Alison Lawrence *** Love, prayers, and blessings! Thanks for stopping by. Alison 💖💖💖 ***

  Tiny Stories of Hope: Allan Free coffee break read The man fidgeted with his tie and rattled his newspaper. Why did he feel so annoyed, even agitated by the happy scene playing out on the other side of the restaurant? Somehow he couldn't prevent himself from peeping out from his newspaper now and again. He watched as Allan beamed at his pretty wife then took a seat alongside her. Others were seated at the large table too: probably family members. They were laughing and talking, clinking glasses. Numerous trips to the buffet were made. It was a jolly scene, with Allan sitting like a king in the midst of it.  The man's stomach knotted and he clenched his fists as he watched. His  food iced over as did his heart, but no amount of seething could wipe the joy from the face of his despised co-worker as he feasted at his banquet. *** "You prepare a banquet for me, where all my enemies can see me; You welcome me as an honoured guest and fill my cup to the brim. I know that Your...

  Tiny Stories of Hope: Ada Free coffee break read  Ada surveyed her scuffed shoes. From these, her gaze travelled to the dirty, dying autumn leaves and a crumpled sweet wrapper which displayed an empty promise of choc-mallow-surprise. Soggy cigarette butts sprinkled here and there completed the picture.  At last, her heart could bear it no longer. Ada lifted her head and studied the turquoise blue patch directly above her. It looked like a portal placed especially there for her amongst the somber, heavy clouds. "Keep your chin up, Ada." Her mother's voice echoed in her mind. "Keep your chin up, Ada." She smiled softly as she recognized the voice of Jesus in her heart. *** Dear Reader, Is your heart down there on the ground with your shoes today? Will you lift your heavy heart and head with Ada, and look to Jesus once more? " I look to the Lord for help at all times and He rescues me from danger." Psalm 25:15 (G N B) *** Lifted Up When eyes are focused...

  The Book: Flash Fiction. Coffee break read. :) *** May flipped her dark red hair over her shoulder and sat down next to Ursula with a sigh. The tower of books on the table threatened to further spoil an already depressing day. Ursula glanced up briefly from her own pile. "I feel for you friend. Three essays in one week is murder." She scribbled busily on her writing pad then smiled cheerfully. "But do-able." "For  you, perhaps." May flipped her hair once more. "Hey, what's that book?" She gestured at the thick volume that lay open before Ursula. Ursula leaned forward. "Just  the most vilified and criticised book around here. You could say that it's virtually banned." She lifted the cover so that her friend could read the gold lettering on it. "Our lecturers refer to the Bible in order to attack it, but they don't make it part of our reading requirement. That's hardly fair." May grimaced. "We have a Bible...

  Hurt: A Devotional " Hate stirs up trouble, but love overlooks all offenses." Proverbs 10:12 "Love does not keep a record of wrongs." 1 Corinthians 13:5 Dear Reader, Here is a tough question. You've been hurt, badly treated, perhaps slandered. You are in the process of forgiving the person(s) who hurt you daily, and you may even be praying that God will bless them. But what about that deep hurt that remains? What do you do about that? How does one get rid of it? And if you do somehow manage to throw that hurt in the dustbin, won't it jump out at you daily, taking you by surprise and clutch at your heart? Will you need to deal with it every day until you leave your earthly home? You may ask, shouldn't these difficult people be made to pay for the way they hurt me? Surely burying the hurt will negate my pain? They're all heartfelt but difficult questions. What I do know, is that God's Word is clear. We must forgive. And we must cover up the trace...

 Landscape: Flash Fiction Landscape Erica picked up a fine brush and signed her painting with a flourish. That was the closest she would come to any man-made objects or people within her landscapes. Fernando, a fellow art student had once asked her for her opinion on whether landscapes should include people. She'd vehemently shook her head as she gestured to one of her canvasses. "People spoil a landscape. Period. I've tried and it doesn't work. As soon as you add a figure into the scene, it's as though all the peacefulness vanishes." Fernando listened quietly as she warmed to her theme. "People can even bring their baggage into a painting." "True." Fernando smiled. The following day, they each began a new landscape. Both painted in their own characteristic style. Halfway through the double session, Erica looked over at Fernando's painting. A person? He'd obviously decided to try something different. The figure in the painting was w...

Heatwaves, Stuggles, and Memories in Poetry. Summer heat Heatwave A heatwave of circumstance, trial and trouble presses around me, threatens to  overwhelm. Intensifying heat absorbs all joy. I grumble, discontented, thirsty, drained. Then: I remember You: The living water, refreshing, cool, and sweet: I am flooded with Your peace: Eternal life is mine and all is well. Pauses are so needful.  Pause Things went all wrong today: forgot to pause, forgot  to pray. Now, I stop to  pause and pray, and cling to Jesus as I travel my way Warm day  Refreshment I miss my  mother's kindness on days like this: Days of  unmerciful  scorching heat. Those cups of Earl Gray tea beside the  airconditioner. May I too refresh others walking on life's trying, hot and dusty way. *** Copyright: Alison Lawrence Love and blessings 💜💜💜

How are you Doing Today? Cloudy  How are you doing today? If someone asks you this oft asked question, what do you answer? "OK." "Fine, thank you." Or perhaps, "I'm doing alright." Your answer may be perfectly true, or perhaps not. In all honesty, and I realize that this may sound a bit dramatic, most of us are not actually doing that well. Life for most of us consists of a rather complicated arrangement of circumstances. Of course, we do grow accustomed to them, and may not even think about them overly much as we go about our busy days, but our background problems do not just go away. Many of us end up living  with less than ideal circumstances for much of our lives, or even until our passing. Pretty negative and gloomy sounding isn't it? I'm thinking now of the failed marriage that never comes right. The adult child who never seems to flourish and move on. The health problem that has no cure, and poisonous people who steal your peace and rema...