I’m fifty-three. and I’m just now starting to understand what it means to be real. It’s more than just existing, brushing my hair, my teeth and putting on the same shoes time and time again. It’s more than breathing, the inhale and exhale that I don’t think about, I just do. Ten years before myContinue reading “Living Real”
Category Archives: Writing My Heart
His Life Is Written…On My Heart
I keep one special book near my bed: my dad’s Bible. It is an old leather black Bible, expensive leather, worn now, with the edges exhibiting tears, folds and coffee stains intruding out of the faded black. The cover has “Holy Bible” and “Marion W King” written in gold letters. Inside the Bible both myContinue reading “His Life Is Written…On My Heart”
Our Family Mikvah
We had a family Mikvah at Family Week, Thursday April 5, 2012. All the families that wanted to participate, or could, gathering on the eve of Passover. It was an incredibly royal feeling. I let my body fall under the deep and the Living Waters flowed through everything I am, even to my soul. IContinue reading “Our Family Mikvah”
Breathless, Glowing, A Singular Sensation
I almost can’t breathe as I feel these words come to fruition. I close my eyes not even seeing the finale of that which is in my mind. Isn’t that all of life? The times we are waiting to arrive, we breathe in thoughts of mercy and praise at the same time. In the dimmedContinue reading “Breathless, Glowing, A Singular Sensation”
Grandma’s Hands
Grandma’s Hands Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn’t move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands. When I sat down beside her, she didn’t acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat, I wondered if she was OK. Finally, not really wanting to disturb herContinue reading “Grandma’s Hands”
The Night
The night was dark and cold, rain was pouring down and the drops seemed like swords hitting the windshield. I was driving as fast as I could, semi trucks surrounding me, pulling me in their path. I was at school and work all day and so tired when I got home. Then the messages oneContinue reading “The Night”
