This poem was originally published in March, 2013.
It needed to be published again, but in the first person this time.

Sometimes I feel so weary,
And I really don’t know why?
I can’t put my finger on it.
I wouldn’t even try.

I can’t explain the emptiness,
That’s way down in my soul.
Can’t understand the outlook,
I feel buried in a hole.

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This Whisper was originally published on December 22, 2012.
For the rest of this week, the Whispers will be taken from the archives.
The truth of the messages are still the same and need to be revisited.

Are you done all your shopping?
Did you send out your cards?
Did you wrap all the presents?
Finding boxes was hard.

Did you hang up your stockings?
Did you trim the large tree?
Did you bake favorite cookies?
Are there any for me?

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This Whisper was originally published on March 4, 2013.
For the rest of this week, the Whispers will be taken from the archives.
The truth of the messages are still the same and need to be revisited.

Do you ever just feel weary,
And you really don’t know why?
Can’t put your finger on it.
Wouldn’t even try.

Can’t explain the emptiness,
That’s way down in your soul.
Can’t understand the outlook,
You feel buried in a hole.

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I’m on the verge of walking.
I am only one.
I get around by crawling,
But now it’s not much fun.

Now the weather’s warmer.
Shorts are what I wear.
Crawling on all the hard, cold floors,
Hurts my knees so bare.

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We have our own agenda, Lord.
It is very plain to see,
But, You can change it anytime,
And do it instantly.

We think that our to-do list,
Is the most important thing.
You possess the veto power,
For You are Lord and King.

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Eastertide is the period of 50 days, spanning from Easter Sunday to Pentecost Sunday.
As I was pondering that, I thought about a poem I published on May 2, 2013.
It seems fitting to republish it.
It seems fitting to ponder new life, in THE SONG OF THE MORNING.

The branches heavy laden,
Their blooms touching the ground,
A lovely sight for eyes to see,
The beauty all around.

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This poem was first published on November 6, 2012.
I am still pondering the same truths I wrote about six years ago.

How do You determine, Lord, the answer to our prayers?
How do You discern, dear Lord, the ways to show You care?

How do You distinguish when the farmer prays for rain?
How do You answer the worried bride who asks for sun again?

How do You know what’s always best, and good, and true?
Don’t You get annoyed at those who try so hard to be You?

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This poem was originally published on November 21, 2013.
I have modified it in places but the truth expressed here is still on my heart today.

Have you forgotten those lazy days,
When faces are seen in the clouds?
Have you forgotten what it means to play,
Singing jump rope songs out loud?

Have you forgotten your favorite toy,
Or the feel of your blanket so soft?
Have you forgotten the smell of sweet hay,
As you make up a bed in the loft?

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This poem was first published on September 19, 2014.
With a few revisions, I felt the need to publish it again.

I am learning to show grace,
Every day a little more,
Each and every situation,
Never knowing what’s in store.

The days I learn to hold my tongue,
And keep my eyes from rolling.
The days I go the extra mile,
Keep away from all controlling.

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I like to listen to music when I drive.
However, sometimes, I like to listen to teaching, or sermons, or an occasional podcast.
Since I am more auditory than visual, this type of teaching is very helpful to me.
I remember almost everything that I hear.

I was driving along listening to various talks from a 2017 creativity conference.
As God allows, I am going to this same conference in a few weeks.
By listening to the archives from last year, I was whetting my appetite for this year.
I was enjoying the various topics as I listened.

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