Windsong

I just wanted to share this with you--it's always fascinated me and just struck me that I can post it here. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

sing a song
and for a moment
you will be visited by the wind
sing a song
and for a moment
dream sweetly of the wind
sleep now until the night is dawn
the wind and the night song, they are there
however the song, my child, will go on forever.



Imba wimbo
Wa upepo
Wakati unajiwa na
Imba wimbo wa upepo
Wakati ndoto tamu
Lala mpaka usiku uisheni
Upepo wa usiku
Wimbo wanko na
Wimbo wangu inaendelea milele

Author of Salvation

Happy Easter!

Thinking aloud . . .

I've been thinking a lot lately about my blogging. I have lots of fun putting myself out there and sharing my heart with everyone. That's me. I love to make friends, nurture them, and share with them.

I know it's an impossible (more like improbable) feat to get to know each and every one of you in person--but imagine how fun it would be to?

Everyone of you is so special and talented and brilliant. I've read your blogs, posted comments and followed you. It's a wonderful way to reach out and get to know others.

You have your ways of expression and reaching out.



I feel as if I am still trying to discover mine. Have you ever felt the Lord's hand in your change? Like he's saying, "You need to go here . . ." or as if you are clay in his hands? I've been feeling that a lot lately. I can feel myself being directed and shuffled and moved--like a pawn on a great big chessboard.

Call me crazy--I know this all may sound nuts--

I hear voices in my head! LOL, what writer doesn't, really? Every one of us is a pen in God's hand--whatever we write is inspired of Him. There is a reason and a purpose. In my heart, I truly feel that if you really want to get published, you will if you dare pursue it.

I will most likely change the patterns of my posting. Next week, there may be days I won't post. I don't know. I feel a change in the air and I don't know where it's taking me. All I know is that I need to connect with you in a more intimate way--as if we've known each other forever.

I'll be open and honest and forward. Actually, I always have been, but I want it to be more me. Not some formal instructor trying to get a point across.



How do you feel when you write your posts? What inspires you to choose what topic? Do you feel as if you've got it all down--or like you still need to find out who you are in the bloggie world?

First Page Blogfest!

Kelly Lyman at Kelly's Compositions is hosting fun Blogfest in honor of your first page! Don't forget to visit Kelly's blog to read the others' awesome writings! :D

(photo found at bing.com images)

Ooh, first page could make or break the story, right? Would you keep reading after this page? How does it sound to you? It's okay to be honest! :D

This is from my Tender Cupid Love, YA novel. (For more Cupid reading, go here for Eros's first kissing scene in pink and here for his love at first kiss scene!)

Aphrodite was dead.

Although it had been thousands of years, and despite that most mortals saw her as myth, she felt alive as ever. She leaned forward in her nacreous throne and pored over Zeus’s globe. Each mortal, a tiny figure frozen in Olympian time in their meager day-to-day lives. The goddess of love simpered.

“Faithless little cretins,” she hissed as she spun the orb with her nail. “Eros,” she called. The vivid paintings on the ceiling reflected her voice. A shiver of pleasure made her smile—how she loved her voice, a lyrical tune.

She tapped her long nails against the armrest of her throne. A lone breeze curled its way through the pillars from her lush gardens beyond and frolicked within the silvery lengths of her hair. How dare he keep her waiting!

With a huff, she rose to her sandaled feet.

“Eros!”

A little man flew in and pressed his nose to the polished floor. “All hail, Aphrodite! I have come to report that Eros has gone missing.” His Adam’s apple quivered when he met her gaze. “Again.”

“Hermes, my dear—I asked for my son, and I get the messenger?” She chewed on her lip, tightened her gaze, and took three slow breaths. “How are you this fine eve?” But she did not care to hear about his irksome romps and he knew it.

Hermes blinked several times. “Wonderful.”

I hope you enjoy the rest of the first page Blogfest! (I think the title, Tender Cupid Love sounds waaay cheesy, what title would you choose?)

Thoughtful Thursdays

A Mother's Heart


We give everything of ourselves. Time. Love. Labor. Life. Of course there's more.

Children are little people learning. They first see the world through our eyes. They hear things the way we perceive them. They grasp things the way we show them.

When they take their firsts, our hearts flow with joy. Or pain, depending on what the first is.

Their first lie. Their first steal. Their first punch.


It makes the deepest, biggest wound in my heart. I feel so sad, but my world continues on. At a small, awkward tilt that no one can see. The most I can do is pray that my girl sees what she's doing and right the wrongs with my heart-to-heart talks along with helping hands. That my boy understands his choices have repercussions. The way they live now will have an everlasting effect if they don't change their thought patterns.


I feel it is very important, though, that I start with me. That I be their example. I can't go around telling them not to hit their friends if I hit them (and I mean more than a simple spank). How about lying? What value am I teaching in honesty if they know I am lying to a friend and then turn around and tell them not to lie to their teachers?

Do as I say not as I do?

That's so old school and I don't believe in that at all. It's also hypocritical. What kind of morals would I have if I did one thing and told someone to do the other? How could that make me believable to them? A leader to follow?


Some might argue and say that's the privilege of being a parent. True. But what of the day when they gain their own realization that that parent is a walking contradiction? There's no solid truth to turn to. So they'll build their own. And that parent has just lost their child's trust.


I do my very best to be an example for my kids in my own home. I do everything that my Father in Heaven wants me to do. With that as my rod, I know that I can't go wrong. But it doesn't mean my kids won't go wrong. I just need to be strong for them and be there for them when they fall.


How do you do it when your kids stray? Break your heart?