They spoke ill of her. Trashing her soul with their many criticisms, shoving their contempt  into the corners of her existence. Passing by where she lived they splashed horrible graffiti on the frail walls that seemed like surgical sutures that were about to tear and when and if they did, the guts of her home would spill onto the apathetic grounds. She stayed home as much as  possible. The enclosure was a welcome relief from the taunting, the ridicule and unkindness of her fellow human beings. She didn’t have a friend. Nor could she be one because nobody wanted her. Her own mother hadn’t wanted her. She had  tried to kill her but the abortion failed and a little girl was born that day. Little did the girl child know how miserable her life would be. No doubt she would have wished for death on the day of her birth. She doesn’t remember exactly when the nightmare began. This nightmare she lived i the bright sun of day and under the ebony stare of night.

        She had never been happy except once. She was nine years old. Her mother and she lived alone well most of the time.  There were times her mother had male friends in but they never hung around for very long. One day there was a knock on the door. Her mother hated anyone knocking. She always ignored the pounding until the pounding on the door would stop. But one day the person knocking in the door just didn’t give up. Finally in exasperation her mother opened the door and there stood an old woman with a basket in hand. She was smiling too. The little girl could see the old woman’s smile while the fragrance of fresh baked bread filtered through the house until it bumped into her nose. Her mother received the basket with barely an utterance of gratitude and shut the door like one would close the door to a freezer. Greedily the mother began to devour the chocolate first and eat her fill. Her daughter was trained not to ask or beg but you can’t train hope. Hopeful she was that something from the basket would be her own. Finally her mother tossed her a doll, a beautiful doll with golden curls and a soft blue velvet dress. Who wanted bread or candy when you could hold a doll like this! She was so happy but just for a day. By morning the doll was gone. Her mother told her the woman came and asked for it back. Somehow the little girl knew that was a lie.

         One year grew into the next year like cancer and when the little girl was nineteen years old her mother died. Now she was along but being along was better than being with someone who hates you. She didn’t know why she had been hated all her life. First her mother hated her and the school kids hated her. All her life she had been stalked by rejection and made miserable by it consummation.

        That’s why what I am about to say is so amazing. Her life changed one night, utterly and completely changed. She  was watching TV and one of those religious stations had a guy talking about Jesus and how much He loved everyone. He said no one was exempt from God’s love. The television evangelist explained that Jesus died and rose from the dead. The young woman thought “that’s what I would like to do because I surely feel dead. I don’t feel alive.”  Just then the Presence of God came into her living room. His love overwhelmed her and she heard the man on TV say Jesus stands at the door and knocks. If anybody hears him knocking just open the door to your heart and Jesus will come in and live with your forever. Suddenly she remembered how much her mother hated all those people who knocked on her door. But she also remembered the old woman who brought the basket that held the beautiful doll. She was torn. Do I open the door or not?

       A sense of being loved was filling her very soul All the hurts from childhood were rising to the surface. She said, ” I open the door Lord, I open the door!”  Her life was changed that day. That was the beginning of a new life of joy. The next Sunday she opened the door to a nearby church. On Monday there was a knock on her front door of her home. Some men from the church had come by to see if there was anything in her home that needed repairs. Their wives brought fresh bread and homemade strawberry jelly. She was happy…. now all she needed was that doll that doll, with blonde hair and a blue velvet dress. She thought she would go out later on and buy one. Who knows? Maybe one day her own little girl would like to have it. 

The early morning light filters through the trees
Reaching the ground where small living things
Await the radiance

The early morning wind
Like a cool breath of mint
Settles in the air
Drifting from place to place
In a happy state of contentment

The early morning song of the dove
Coos in a melody that is sweet and kind
While a distant rooster boldly proclaims the
day has sprung to life!

Early morning traffic is slow and few and far between
The cars plow through the left over night
With headlights on resembling runners holding lanterns in the dark

I hear the coffee pot huffing and puffing
And the smell of Starbucks is propelling me to
Ready my eager empty cup soon to be filled to
The brim with “black gold”!

In the early morning my thoughts are clear and simple
By midday they have intertwined with things to do,
people to see, Tasks to be finished

Like a ball of multicolored wires all tangled up
At noon I check my written list and forgo quiet contemplations
That’s why early morning is such a thing of value

Even my body awakens to the trumpet of dawn
And once again the lovely awareness of God
and self intertwine

Jesus said “ I am in you and you are in Me”

In the early morning that union is indisputable
At least for me.
Early morning God who never sleeps is waiting
Delighted that we’ve come, longing for us to stay.

By Shelly Holloway

________________________________________

Suddenly I hear digging above me
And I wonder who or what is disturbing my hideaway
I quickly cover myself with as much soil as I can gather
but to no avail,   
I am discovered!
I lay helpless while a hand lifts me from the depths of my dark space
Into the light of day. Or is it the light of day ?
It is brighter and more beautiful   
Than any light I have ever seen before.
I squint… Then slowly open my eyes
That’s when I see Him…Smiling at me with a look of Love that makes me weep.
I cry so hard that I shake and all that shaking makes the dirt fall away.
My tears like a river seem like rain   
And before I know it I am clean.
I breath deeply letting life back in.
He calls me by name and somehow I know His name too.
Jesus I whisper… 
I decide then and there that I would never leave Him,
Never let Him go  
Even if it meant following Him back down to the dark space
But even there I know His light would shine
Because I will never be alone again
Never be separated from my Lord and my God.

What is Easter?  
Easter is living after you’ve been dead.
Easter is believing after you have doubted.
Easter is Jesus smiling at you and you smiling back.
Up from the grave we arose!

Colossians 2:13  “And you being dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, He has made alive together with Him, having forgiven you all trespasses;”

It experienced many seasons.  People came and people went.  All around the tree, life like a parade went passing by.  But the tree had always known that although others were free to move from one place to another he was anchored to the same place year after year.  Sometimes he had watched from a distance trees being carefully dug up and then transplanted to far away places on big trucks.  Often a longing to go with them created a spirit of discontentment within and he would pout and feel gloomy for a month or so. 

He saw young saplings being carried away too and he wondered if children would play under their branches.  Would the young trees survive the winter cold and ice? The old tree couldn’t help but worry.  Like it or not he felt like a father to some trees and a grandfather to the very young ones.  The old tree was getting tired.  Some of his branches drooped down and had even broken. 

The squirrels seemed to know somehow that he was weak and so they didn’t leap from branch to branch as they and their grandchildren had done when the tree was younger.  They mostly came to just sit.  Being with “The Old One”… that’s what the old tree was called was a comfort.  Somehow the old tree had become a good place to rest.  The Old One closed his eyes and dreamed about his youth.  Sometimes when he was dreaming he would laugh and make the branches quiver and shake. 

The little birds would chirp in their nest calling for their mothers who would quiet them and say “It’s alright.  ” It’s just The Old One dreaming his dreams”.    One night there was a terrible storm  the winds were strong and the rains were heavy.  The farmers barn roof had blown away and the fence was uprooted section by section.  The winds howled like a train all night long and in the morning the Old One felt something he had never felt before.  He felt the earth against his face.  He blinked just once and then he died.  The farmers’ son found the old tree laying on his side. It was like a giant that had tripped and fell. 

The farmer remembered when his daddy had planted the tree and now there he stood with his son looking at the massive tree helpless and lifeless.  The next day the loggers came to carry off The Old One who would at last be given the longing of his heart to go to far away places.  The farmer and his little boy stood staring at the empty place where the ground was rich and the sun shone brightly everyday.  The little boy asked his daddy “Can we plant another old one?”  The farmer smiled at his young son.  “You bet we can”.  They planted a young sapling in the very same spot where The Old One had lived a long happy life.  It wouldn’t be too long before the birds would come to build their nests and the squirrels would leap once again from branch to branch.

I know there are others who love you more
There are others who give you the attention you deserve
But I am in a frozen state
I am listless .. unable at times to call your Name.

Whisper Your love to me
Awaken my heart
Stir my longings once again
Then and only then will I be glad
For I know that You alone are my joy
You alone outlast all the others
You are exactly who you say You are
I can believe what You say because You cannot lie
You alone have the perfect track record of being faithful and of being true

I am waiting Lord for Your strong arm of help to lift me
I cannot lift myself
I am too heavy .. I am too burdened… I cannot carry even myself

You alone are my comfort
In You alone do I trust
There is no one else that can take Your place
My destitution has become my entrance into your Heart
Within Your chambers I hear You sing to me
My tears flow like a brook in a dark forest
Winding its way back to where it began
I too am coming home
Home to You