Friday, April 30, 2010


Psalm 51: 12 Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation; and uphold me with thy free spirit.
From my perspective, life is moving along at a snails pace, the mundane becomes boring and a shake up is in order for it to move along swiftly. Oh, wait, I already had a shake-up a few weeks ago. Still reeling from the aftermath too.

Perspective is where we can sit on a cloud and look down at people and their lives, swooping down to get a closer view or just sitting and observing. I gain perspective the longer I observe and in writing that is just what you need to do sometimes, observe.

I observe other writers as they link words together to form sentences. I watch as the sentences take the shape of paragraphs, and the paragraphs form a story. What better way to learn than to witness the classics in action?

I’ve read some newer authors and I’m not impressed with their storytelling. What I get from the library shelves is that this new author writes the book, feeds it to the editor and sometimes the publishing house needs new blood so bad they accept, not so good work.

I see typos throughout, misspellings weaved in, atrocious punctuation and this all slipped by? Wasn’t anyone watching the creation of this tale? This is the very reason I prefer classics. The story didn’t depend on a computer program. It depended on a writer sitting at his/her desk tapping on the keys of a typewriter. Yeah, a typewriter, remember those ancient things?

I’m not knocking new author’s, by no means. After all, I can learn a lot from them too. I see what NOT to do in a story.

I read differently being a writer. I try to get into a story, but I’m always picking it apart, word for word, sentence for sentence. It can become quite annoying so I rely on the classics to take me to an imaginary world, where I soar in the reading of the text, without picking and needling every aspect of the writer’s skills.

Maybe I should start listening to audio books. You can’t find typos if you’re listening now can you? And you can hear the words forming sentences, but you can’t nit pick the structure.

As far as perspective goes, this is my view, from my world, my perspective. Others may have a different take and that is okay because being a human being with free will, you my friend, have a perspective too.

Enjoy being unique. Cherish the life you were given and always have, give and share your perspective. You’ll be glad you did. :)

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

POV ~ Point of View

Jas. 2:10 For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all.

Recently I have noticed the biggest problem for new writer’s is not getting the story out, it is keeping the story consistent.

Consistency in POV and consistency with tenses. Sure I see alot of grammatical issues being tossed out there as a new writer, but POV is one tough element of the craft that needs to be honed and mastered.

Mastering the POV will help in keeping the work consistent.

We at f2k, have an exercise this week in POV and when asked to shift pov, alot of people write the same exact paragraph and switched the POV from “He said” to “I said”. To me, shifting the point of view changes the perspective and the ‘who’ is seeing what and from whose point of view. 

Here’s an example of something I’ve been working on: Two pov’s and different perspectives arise.

POV 1 ~ First person
As I hover over my lifeless body lying below me, I wonder where I am. The aroma of a fresh garden surrounds me making me feel like a weightless cloud. I want to yell down to myself, but I can’t seem to communicate from here. I walk slowly toward the endless portal that awaits me. I float like a feather on an endless air drifting into the unknown. No claps of thunder, no bolts of lightning, just eerie warmth surrounds me. A gravitational pull sucks me like a huge non-existent vacuum of space and time. I turn away from the light and try in a motionless effort to reclaim the body I left. Suddenly, I awaken to the trickle of an ice cold shower that releases me from the warm safe haven. I scan the bathroom and wonder how on earth did I get in here?

POV2 ~ Third person
Look at her, a lifeless form in need of assistance. She has left her body only to discover the realm of the unknown. The bright light that has hold of her won’t let her go. She can wriggle and worm all she wants but it is pulling with an endless flux of gravity. She knows this is the end of the line, the place she’s heard about but never wanted to be at the cusp of her youth. She's grappling with fear yet releasing herself without a fight, letting herself drift into the aromatic garden that waits. As moments pass, time is of the essence.
She needs to be revived; it’s not her time. Wait; look; she’s in bathroom shower. How on earth did she get there?

The same paragraph but from different perspectives, and two different pov’s.  This shift sometimes confuses new writer’s because they can’t see from anyone else's eyes. They are looking at the paragraph and thinking they need to write the exact same words but change *I* into *She*. When I shift pov, I see from different eyes.

I think we need to look at perspective as much as POV. Work on the POV, sifting through all the knowledge you can and retry the exercise and I can bet you’re perspective will change too. You’ll be seeing through different eyes in no time.

Now get moving, Write Right!

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Talk-o Tuesday

There’s a new blog in town. Audio Book Heaven which is the same one as Critical Mass Media, and Reviews from the Deep. Why the old switcheroo?

Well let me tell you. My beau, who has gone blind, sits around and tries to find things to do. Blogging seemed like an interesting thing to do since he sees the joy it brings to me. I would let him mow the lawn, but my son and I love that too much. I would let him take the car for a spin, but for obvious reasons, I can’t let him do that.

Then there is blogging. He started with a journal of sorts of what it is to go blind and how he’s adjusted, but that turned into a journal of the past and present. It allowed people into his world, where normally being a very private man, friends and family were all in the know of what his personal life was going through.

Then he decided on audio book reviews, since he listens to them in the millions, (exaggeration here) so now he reviews them. Good reviews of your audio book arsenal if I do say so myself. Not just a one liner of, good book, either. He gives a really good in depth review and what I find interesting, if I haven’t read the book, it gives me a glimpse into the book and if I’d like to read it or not.

It can be very frustrating this blogging world. I mean being blind, having to listen to your screen reader tell you all the widgets and stuff that are available, then trying to do the entire layout. Beau didn’t like the name Critical Mass Media, so he switched it to Audio Book Heaven.

I think this name will stick, no matter which blog he chooses to pick from, whether wordpress or blogger. I hear wordpress has better graphics and widgets and they even have a help desk that really helps you! How cool is that?

So all in all the blogging world has a kind of new blog in town and Audio Book Heaven sounds just heavenly to me, but one never knows when the wind will sweep in again, so you just need to check my blog frequently, right? Write!

Or is that Write Right? *wink*

Monday, April 26, 2010

Happy Birthday Astri

Astri's Sixth Birthday
born - died 4/26/04

I look around for evidence,
of her soul's existence.
I cannot find her anywhere
through all my tried persistence.

A gently cradled baby.
A stroller passes by.
My eyes begin to fill with tears.
I ask the question why.

Why is she not here with me?
Why has she gone away?
Why am I the lonely one?
Left to brave each day?

Is she now safe in heavens abode?
Are the Angels now her mother?
Is she there within the vibrant realm,
that's home to her own brother?

Does she think of me, as I of her,
with every passing day?
Will we ever meet again?
I'm lost for what I'd say.

I feel her in the warm swift breeze,
I sense her in a flower;
The birds all sing a song for her;
A gentle rains her shower.

As years have passed I mark the day.
The day that I gave birth.
The day I seen her soul depart.
From this luscious earth.

Writer's on the run...

Ps. 45: 1 My heart is inditing a good matter: I speak of the things which I have made touching the king: my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.

Look at them go. We’re off to a running start at f2k and the writers are eager as ever, some are running the halls, posting work in the cafe, commenting in other rooms; they’re just running rampant through the halls.

Lesson two was a tough one, had a lot of people confused and bewildered with the use of the senses, but from what I read, they seemed to nail the lesson and within word count, give or take a few from other countries who don’t quite understand our American terminology for things.

Yes we have wannabe writers from across the globe! Singapore, Australia, UK, Argentina, Finland, you name it and the writers are there. I think that is what I love most about the f2k course, I get to meet, or read, people from around the world! I feel like I travel there without leaving my home by hearing them tell their tales and talk about the cuisine, or culture.

A lot of times as the weeks progress, these writer’s lose interest because they realize something, writing is hard. They thought that just because they wrote a story in grade school they were destined to be a writer. Some are trying out to see if maybe this is what has been calling them all along. Doctors, lawyers, you’d be surprised who is taking the leap from their job and trying their hand at writing.

Along the way in our six-seven week program however, they realize that writing is work. Our next lesson being point of view, what we writers call POV, will be even more challenging as the lesson before. Some will grasp it, some will shrug and learn it, some will run like wind, in the other direction, back to their day jobs.

No one alluded to the fact that writing was this easy peasy chunky cheesy kind of work, I’ve always stated that it is hard work, not something you can just ‘do’. It takes time and learning new skills will at least send you in the right direction.

When someone says, “What is a paragraph?” I tend to wonder how they ever thought that becoming a writer meant writing words or a story without knowing the simple basic element of a paragraph. It is simple to me because I’m an American, educated in grammar where some countries have more important things to teach about, and English grammar is not one of them.

I want to see all the writers succeed and helping them get there I feel is my civic duty. Okay, so it’s not my civic duty, it is my duty as a writer, to help other writers along the way become all that they can be, even if it means to teach them what a paragraph is and the purpose in a paragraph.

Write right writer’s. Have fun and enjoy the view. Writing is hard work, but work that is well worth the journey taken. 

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Poetry Sunday ~ Secrets ~

Rom 2: 16 In the day when God shall judge the secrets of men by Jesus Christ according to my gospel.

(c) Joni Zipp
Anxiety has a grip on me
clenched in its fist
held by my wrist
fear is not, letting me be.

I wander the room
seek out a light
try hard to fight
the inner walls of doom.

Lost and alone I am not free
the pain is there
no one to care
doing it all relentlessly.

Words are framed
a hidden joy
a beleagured toy
my inner body maimed.

Wrestle the solid emotion
wring it out
try to shout
it’s all just a silly notion.

A healing place I’ll find
the Lord a Light
always my fight
my soul is warm and kind.

Trade your secrets and become who you are.
Frank Warren
(c) Joni Zipp
Secrets are lies in disguise
veiled in mystery building misery

Secrets are entombed in the womb
the edge of deceit, mottled heat.

Secrets are a betrayal, trust that’s a fail
hidden from love behind the white dove.

Secrets are lies in disguise
there’s no excuse for the mangled ruse.  

Secrets have no place, no face
they shield the field of disgrace.

Secrets are kept while other hearts wept
they lie in wait to open the gate.

Secrets are flares otherwise cares
the mask of ruin, not cluing you in.

Secrets will shred the intimate bed
from there you’ll rise and wake the dead.

You know, I’ve had people hide things, lie to me, keep secrets all of my life and I wonder what on earth they were thinking? Is it from God that one would do these things? And if not, is it from the opposite realm? Well now, that gives me something to think about.

The Lord has been leading me in many directions in my life and I follow according to his will. I know why Steven is here in Nebraska, this is his home, among other things. I know why Adam is here, because this is a safe haven for him to grow in, but why, why am I here?

Oh...that’s right, because this is where He WANTS me to be. AMEN to that!

If you reveal your secrets to the wind you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees.
Kahlil Gibran  (1883 - 1931) 

All rights reserved: copyright © Joni Zipp

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Quotation Saturday


“The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today. Let us move forward with strong and active faith.”
~Franklin D. Roosevelt

“Fear of failure and fear of the unknown are always defeated by faith. Having faith in yourself, in the process of change, and in the new direction that change sets will reveal your own inner core of steel.”
~Georgette Mosbacher

Of all the liars in the world, sometimes the worst are your own fears.
~Rudyard Kipling


“Never apologize for showing feeling. When you do so, you apologize for the truth.” ~Benjamin Disraeli

“Creativity is inventing, experimenting, growing, taking risks, breaking rules, making mistakes and having fun.”
~Mary Lou Cook

“If we fail to nourish our souls, they wither, and without soul, life ceases to have meaning. The creative process shrivels in the absence of continual dialogue with the soul. And creativity is what makes life worth living.”
~Marion Woodman


“Self-acceptance comes from meeting life’s challenges vigorously. Don’t numb yourself to your trials and difficulties, nor build mental walls to exclude pain from your life. You will find peace not by trying to escape your problems, but by confronting them courageously. You will find peace not in denial, but in victory.”
~J. Donald Walters

Friday, April 23, 2010

I smell a rat...

Ezra 10: 35) For I have seen that I knew not, and hear that I do not know.
36) Or is my sense deceived, or my soul in a dream?

Ahh the senses. This weeks lesson is full of the senses. 1.Sight 2. sound 3. smell 4. touch 5. taste and the 6. unknown. That is our secret sense that no one knows about and the very reason I can smell a rat, liar, or a not so great person from miles away.

But this isn’t about my intuitive nature, this is about the use of senses in your writing. By using the senses, your writing will come alive. I know from experience that this is one lesson that made my writing, even poetry, take a leap from good to va va va voom.

Now when I write, I use the senses like a footstool. I prop other words on top, see to it that there is a sense of smell, taste, sight, or other sense in each and every sentence. If  I don’t see or hear a sense, upon revision I fix the sentence so it comes alive.

Yeah alive, literally jumps out and bites your face. Look at this sentence.

The truck went down the road. (A good telling sentence wouldn’t you say?)

The blue truck hummed down the road leaving dust in the air when it came to a complete and sudden stop. (Now the sentence has come alive. I showed you almost like a picture in your mind, what the truck did. It was a blue truck, (sight) It hummed (sound) It came to a sudden stop (maybe more sound and sight?) Dust flew in the air. (maybe sight, smell and taste as the dust flies, making you cough)

You don’t need to use every sense in a sentence but by adding the senses, the structure of your sentence and impact on the reader really hits its mark. We don’t want bland sentences linked together like sausage, we want them to be linked like a freight train, moving forward with force so that your reader is right there with you, alive in the moment.

Showing your reader a full picture, is what makes a story work. When they read, the reader wants to be in the scene. They want to feel what you the writer are trying to convey. If you miss the boat, then publishers are going to sail on to higher seas, if you know what I mean.

Now even though you’re going to place the senses in there, you need to watch the over-use of your adverbs and the word AND. Sometimes as we add life to the sentence, we over do it with too many words, leaving the reader scratching their head wishing they’d used dandruff shampoo that morning.

Don’t over-do the sentence, and try your darndest to not under-do (I don’t think under-do is a word.) But whatever you do, make sure you take the reader on the ride with you.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Talk-o Tuesday

Exodus 24:7 And he took the book of the covenant, and read in the audience of the people: and they said, All that the LORD hath said will we do, and be obedient.
Wow, it’s been awhile since I’ve had talk-o Tuesday hasn’t it. I never really have much to say about the audio book industry, that is until now.

My beau, who is blind, has done a major shake up at his Reviews in the Deep audio book blog. He decided to change the name, join affiliates, and I must say, he is up for the challenge that this new blog presents to him.

He is an avid reader of books, or should I say, he was an avid reader until he went blind. Now the audio book has taken on new meaning for him. He listens intently to every story, carries his MP3 player everywhere and I do believe he has listened to almost as many books as he ever read. That can’t be true because he has read thousands in his lifetime.

He reviews the audio book with finesse. Sure you can say, great book, but he has a different spin that other book reviewers just haven’t tapped into. They are not blind, so they review from what they see, while he reviews from what he hears.

Critical Mass Media is still in the building stages, but he is well on his way to such a wonderful piece of work in this blogging world, I felt it warranted its very own post. He gives the crux of the story without giving you the pivotal climax away. He is honest in his reviews too. If he doesn’t like it, he’ll let you know why it didn’t work for him but really he leaves it up to you to decide.

Apparently narration is everything in an audio book . He gives you the run down on the narrator and where warranted, he even gives you some background history of the narrator. There’s a duration of the book being reviewed also, abridged or unabridged version. Don’t you want to know if you’re going to want to invest 3 hours or ten hours in an audio book?

As a writer, I think audio book format is important because now I know that a bad narrator can ruin all my hard work, whereas a good narrator can lend to the work. Important things to think about as a writer.

Now what are you going to do next? I know, click the link Critical Mass Media, and peek in on the blog. Who doesn’t like a thumbs up or thumbs down on this journey? Maybe post a comment or two, read through some favorites such as The Shining, The Green Mile, or the wonderful book, Seven People You meet in Heaven. He has a variety of books already reviewed, so give him a click!  You won’t be sorry and you might even thank me for the info.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Emotional Rescue

Rev. 4: 3 And he that sat was to look upon like a jasper and a sardine stone: and there was a rainbow round about the throne, in sight like unto an emerald.
Words are to me, a form of expressing my feelings. Whether it is fiction or non fiction, words are what heals my soul.

As you all know and have read, last week was not a good week for me. Emotions ran at an anxious high, my esteem dropped for a few notches, my brain was not wrapping around anything that I read or did, and I was just an emotional wreck.

On about Thursday, I was God slapped. This is what I call it when I have one of those clarifying moments that is telling me to wake up and smell the coffee. I lived! Not that I was ever close to death, it just felt that way to me, since it was my very first accident and the more people I talked to, the more I felt that this was a rite of passage that all drivers go through. My son said, “It has to happen at least once in your life.”

Good, I got my one accident over and done with, now I can move on, right? It’s an eerie feeling this moving on stuff, I want to just relive the moment of the accident over and over like my brain is a movie film. Rewind, play, rewind, play. This weekend I pushed STOP! I need to take the film out and put in new film.

I decided to own my fear. I pulled the truck around and washed her off. She had so many of the ditches weeds clinging to the top and the underside, she looked like a truck who had been through combat, survived and came back to tell the story. The mud was caked in the wheels, the injured headlights, the demolished grill, but when I got done washing her, talking to her and pampering her, I told her her straight up, “I own you Destiny, you don’t own me!” I’m gonna own my fear and not allow anyone or anything to hamper my healing.

My writing community has been so supportive, I don’t think I could have gotten through this without their love and support. There is Bro who is tending to the trucks mechanical needs, and mom is trying her darndest to help financially in her loving supportive always- there- for- you mom way, my sister called from miles away, then there is my writers!

An awesome community that knows how to wrap their words around me like a blanket, put the road barriers up to my fear, hug me in a worded way that only they know how to do. My final words today come from a dear writing friend named Standing Deer, she is Native American and knows me spiritually. I wish everyone could see the Native Americans brilliance. I treasure their wisdom and guidance.

Standing deer says:  I know you have wings too...I feel them. They are soft, iridescent, with all the colors of the Rainbow. Only Rainbow carriers put others before themselves
before they can even think any other way.
Rainbows are not just after a rain, they are always there, only special beings know this.
All one has to do is look inside, look within, and there, they will see one.
Darkness cannot hide them for they are what light is made of.
The shining Light from all that exists, it is all that is and more.

What awesome words from my deer friend! Love ya deer!

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Poetry Sunday ~ What if I...die

Prov. 8:7 For my mouth shall speak truth; and wickedness is an abomination to my lips.

What if I Die?
All rights reserved: copyright © Joni Zipp

What if I live
what if I die
what if I tell
you all
the times that I cry?
What if I...
What if I...
What if I die.

What if I share
what if I dare
what if I care
to tell you stuff,
what if I...
what if I...
What if I dare?

What if I give
what if I lie
what if I say
I love
more than I do.
what if I...
what if I...
what if I lie.

What if I live
what if I give
what if I share
it all and try
not to cry
What if I...
What if I...
What if I DIE?
All rights reserved: copyright © Joni Zipp

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Quotation Saturday

Psalm 143:1 Hear my prayer, O LORD, give ear to my supplications: in thy faithfulness answer me, and in thy righteousness.


I won’t allow fear to win over my being as it tugs on me. FEAR? Get over it!
~~ joni, as she moves on to the next stage

No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear. ~Edmund Burke (1729 - 1797)

Fear is that little darkroom where negatives are developed.
~Michael Pritchard

To use fear as the friend it is, we must retrain and reprogram ourselves...We must persistently and convincingly tell ourselves that the fear is here--with its gift of energy and heightened awareness--so we can do our best and learn the most in the new situation.
~Peter McWilliams, Life 101


I will carry my faith tightly clenched in my hand, and permanently engrossed in my soul.
~~Joni, as she heals

“Faith is the ‘eternal elixir’ which gives life, power and action to the impulse of thought! Faith is the starting point of all accumulation of riches! Faith is the basis of all ‘miracles’ and all mysteries which cannot be analyzed by the rules of science! Faith is the only known antidote for failure!”
~Napoleon Hill

“The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today. Let us move
forward with strong and active faith.”
 ~Franklin D. Roosevelt

“Work as if you were to live a hundred years. Pray as if you were to die tomorrow.” ~Benjamin Franklin

“Fear of failure and fear of the unknown are always defeated by faith. Having faith in yourself, in the process of change, and in the new direction that change sets will reveal your own inner core of steel.”
~Georgette Mosbacher

Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.
~J.R.R.Tolkien (1892 - 1973)


I will live life to the fullest and take nothing less than what is waiting for me out there. ~ joni, as she finds the healing tree and eats of its fruit

A person’s life is not a series of dramatic events for which he or she is applauded or exiled but a slow accumulation of days, seasons, years, fleshed out by the generational weight of one’s family and anchored by a land-bound sense of place.
~Gretel Ehrlich
Life offers no obstacles, only challenges.

Life is just a mirror, and what you see out there, you must first see inside of you.
~Wally Famous Amos (1936 - )

Writing is my healing tool. Thank you all for partaking of my journey. ~joni

Friday, April 16, 2010

Sight Unseen

Psalm 90:4 For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the night.

This is the emotions attached to the accident continued, if you all have been reading.

Steven wants me to get back in the saddle again, as much as I hate it, I have to agree, if I don’t get back, I’ll lose myself in the pit of depression, anxiety and fear. All things I’ve fought and overcome throughout my lifetime and here I am faced with it yet again, beckoning at my doorstep. I need time to heal but time is NOT being allotted me. I’m ‘supposed’ to just ‘get over it’, with all due respect.

We named the truck Destiny, the year she was purchased, many years ago in 2003 before Steven and I had met in person. I called her Destiny because it was that White Knight that was going to come and save me, although she was dark blue. She was going to whisk me away from the treacherous life I had been living and take me to a place warm and safe.

She made it across many states, to Maryland and then back to the land of Texas. Destiny made it to Nebraska for a wedding, back to Texas, up to Nebraska again for a funeral and back to Texas. A few more Nebraska trips and back to Texas. She’s run the gamut of successes. I always talk to her as if she is a living breathing entity and on the day of my accident I was telling her how sorry I was for wrecking her.

She gets pulled out of the ditch, and in her greatness, starts right up. That’s my Destiny. Now as I know she has to be fixed and overhauled, she’ll shine in her greatness and ride once again. What I’m wondering is, will I be in the drivers seat?

What I do know is that my destiny (future) is unknown just as the trucks. We’ll both heal and move on but will our paths continually collide? This we never know. I’m tired of the unknown. Hurt by the uncertainty. I will shine once again in my greatness and ride off once again. No white Knight this time, no warmth surrounding me, just my heart and soul.
My illusions have been shattered.

Can you tell I’ve sunken into the pit of depression? This is not me, just so you know. I’m the strong one who gets through these tough times with God gallantly carrying me on his shoulder. My Destiny is laid out, and the truck is just a truck.  To Steven, the truck is his baby. Men are different with their cars/trucks. I see the accident playing over and over and he sees how much this is going to cost him. Money we don’t have, money that will keep him from going to the doctors, money, money, money! As he loses faith, I am empowered by the very force that saved me.

I am a living breathing entity. This much I’m sure about.

You know, I realized something throughout all these years, I cost more than I’m worth. :(

Back to writing on Monday, hopefully.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

The Morning after...

NEWS FLASH: swerves on gravel road, does a rollover and swerves into a ditch. 13 year old girl dead, sixteen year old brother driver hospitalized! NEITHER WERE WEARING SEAT BELTS!!!

Well after I came home, settled down, somewhat, I had to return to reality. I wrecked the truck. My face was burning, Adams eye began swelling, and I began feeling fortunate for not being killed. I was alive but I felt I had walked through a portal and wasn’t coming back out.

I guess it was just a simple enough accident, slick road, swerving, pounding into a ditch. Simple, right? Wrong! Anxiety swept over me like a dense fog. I could not look out the window without crying. The incident kept playing over and over and over again.

BOOM went the airbags. FISSSSSSSSS went the smoke. Ears ringing, tears falling. It was a horrible experience.

The sobbing would not stop, I’d be fine, then it would hit me in the face and I’d  begin to cry. I felt alone, in pain, ashamed, hurt, sore, weary and uncertain.  Stevens mom came over, dispersed hugs, and offered her car. “What?” I thought, “DRIVE?” Oh dear, I dread driving, dread dread dread.

All of my friends were giving me warm wishes. Isn’t it funny how the people on the computer can be more consoling and understanding? Tuesday my rest day, I checked this thing two or three times, and each time I checked, my writing friends were there hugging me, and caring for me like a mom dog with her puppies. Let me tell you, the writing community is awesome! When something happens to one of us, we circle around for support to our injured comrade. My sister called, and we both agreed, I shouldn’t tell my mother.

Steven asked his mom if we could borrow the car to go to the library/food shopping on Tuesday and being the loving woman that she is, she brought the car out here. I would have to drive her back home and then drive back here. *sob* *cry* I really wasn’t worried about food or anything else for that matter, I just wanted to rest.

I got in the car, shaking, she wanted me to drive so I could get familiar with the car. Low to the ground, feet barely reaching the pedal, eyes could hardly see over the wheel, I started the car and off I went. I drove about 10 MPH up the dirt road, 40 on the asphalt.
Great, I’m driving. Get me back home now, my brain was screaming.

I made it home and the next day, Wednesday, we went food shopping. I said if I was going to go, Steven had to come too! I won’t be alone! Another 10 MPH for two miles, passed the ditch where all this occurred, hands trembling, chest tightening, tears rolling, I made it to the asphalt! Made it to the stupid library, made it to the store.

A lot of eyes looked at me sympathetically as I passed, black eye shining, obvious pain written on my face. Adam looks no better than me but his bangs can disguise his cut up forehead. We were in the public, just two days after this life altering event. Well life altering for Adam and I. We arrived home and tears came like a flood.

Today, Thursday, I have to drive about 30 miles out to his brothers house so he can look at the truck. Me? I’d much rather take it to a garage, but his brother is a mechanic and wants to look underneath the thing. Let’s see, the headlights are dangling like eyeballs hanging out of a socket, grass clings to the underbody and all through the engine, the truck smells like a swamp, mud clings to it like a silk scarf and I’m afraid driving it, is going to do more damage since it took on so much water. Does it really matter what *I* think? How I feel? Me, me me? Well the roads are wet and slippery today, so good luck me!

Rest? No, not me. Back in the saddle once again. I’ll rest when I go home.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

The Accident...

Job 17:7 Mine eye also is dim by reason of sorrow, and all my members are as a shadow.

Well friends, I said I’d write about my life if something came in an upheaval. This warrants an upheaval of my life.

I was in an accident yesterday. I’m out on a farm, dirt roads either way for at least 2-3 miles. I was doing about 35 MPH when I hit a wet patch on the road, swerving left, right, left, right. Something came over the truck and a force grabbed the wheel turning me left, placing me into an embankment of water. Had I swerved right, I would have smacked right into a telephone pole. Adam (my 14 yr. old son) and I would probably not have walked away with bruises had we pounded the truck into a pole.

The airbags exploded in our faces, smoke billowed, and stench filled the air.  “Are you alright Adam?” Was my first words that screamed out of my mouth. “Are we dead?” I saw so much smoke, I later joked about us both winding up in hell together since there was so much smoke!

My face felt like I was hit with an iron frying pan. I unloosened my seat belt, Adam did the same. We opened the door to step out into two or three feet of cold water. Adam scurried to get the books out of the back of the truck. We had been on our way to the library and food shopping. He climbed the embankment, placed the books down and came back to help me, my little hero.

My feet were sinking deeper and deeper in the mud and my head was spinning. Instant headache and oh how my face hurt. I reached back into the truck to find my purse and Adam found it, handed it to me. I placed it over my shoulder and headed toward the back of the truck.

My shoe came off, I managed to get it back on my foot and pull it out of the mud, only I couldn’t find my bearings to get across the three foot ravine. Adam reached out and helped me over and we both clawed our way to the top, about five or six feet high, of the embankment.

We’re at the top now hollering for help, our faces burning with pain. Adam had blood running down his face and I immediately went to inspect him. “Are you okay?” shivering, I asked. “YES!” he screamed, “What happened?” tears were now flowing and as we looked off into the distance a truck was coming and we both waved our hands unnecessarily because he was already coming to a stop. “You need help?”

“It just happened. I don’t know what to do.” He told us to get in his truck, he would drive us home. We were wet and muddy, but he didn’t care. Instead of home, he stopped at the nearest farm to see if anyone there could help. They called a sheriff and a wrecker to come dig us out of the mud. My tears and fear would not stop.

More tears as we waited on the side of the road. I had called Steven, my beau, from the truck and I kept thinking how he would hate me for doing this to his truck. He didn’t hate me, he asked if we were both okay.

The man had to go to work. The wait...wet, cold, windy as all get out; face burning, more tears, worry, tears, pain, more tears. The sheriff and then the wrecker arrived almost an hour later. They got the truck out of the ravine and the wrecker guy said, “Your truck don’t come off of my truck until you pay, a hundred and fifty or more.”
“I just want my truck home, can you get it back to our farm, right up the road?” I said, shivering still. “Oh and can you take a check or credit card?” Money we do not have!
“Yeah sure.”  Wow, sympathy flowed from him like a dry damn.

I’m home. I ran into Stevens arms like a baby to her momma! More tears, more pain. I’m alive. Now the affects take shape and form. Can the truck be saved? With Steven blind, and our truck the only form of transportation for us to get ANYwhere, we’ll need all the strength we can muster, once again. Now I need to physically and mentally heal.

Prayers will help too because I believe in the power of prayer. Now I wonder...what is God up to? Everything happens for a reason, right?

Prov. 15:23 A man hath joy by the answer of his mouth: and a word spoken in due season, how good is it!

Monday, April 12, 2010

Building a Story

Proverb 24: 3 Through wisdom is an house builded; and by understanding it is established:

Brick by brick

Everybody has a story…

Are you one of the people who think that you have no story to tell? I’ve heard so many times in my life from many different people in many walks of life, “Have I got a story to tell you!” Me, being a writer has the urge to say, “Do tell!” But more often than not I just listen.

Listening to people tell me of their day, their past, their hopes for the future all spurn in me ideas to write. Normally I think to myself, ‘What if this were to happen or what if that were to happen?’ and then I go to my keyboard and write.

Writing for me has become my right arm, without it I’d be a hopeless mess. I take all the whispered tales I hear and turn them into my own. Not necessarily using the persons entire tale but I gather a moral from the story, write about it putting in my own characters and from there the idea has spawned in me the ability to build a story.

Every story should have a beginning, a middle and an end. It is a little like building a house out of brick instead of straw. If we construct the story from a sound foundation and build it layer by layer (the structure, the outer walls, the inner walls) we can finally conclude that we have sealed our story with a firm design and are ready to show it to the world. That would be after we furnish the house (story) with lots of imagery using our senses!

We have five senses to display in our story (some use six.) We have sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, and the sixth being the unknown! In the construction phase you want to SEE the house being built, what sounds do you hear while it is being shaped? Do you smell sawdust in the air? Apple pies being baked at the neighbors, wafting by tickling your nose? Can you almost taste the newly lain sod? Will you explain how the new carpet feels under your bare toes?

Now dapple in the unknown elements, mix it all together and you’ve built a house (story) out of brick! Leaving all of these integral elements out of your story, you will see a house made out of straw and slowly thread by thread it will fall apart and never be seen by anyone.

Are you game at trying your hand at writing?

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Poetry Sunday ~ Shadow of a Man

Job 3: [9] Let the stars of the twilight thereof be dark; let it look for light, but have none; neither let it see the dawning of the day:

Shadow of a Man
(c) Joni Zipp
He sits alone
shadows silhouette;
shattered sanity
his breath on loan.

He’s not there
glowing in gloom
an empty shell
is in the chair.

Darkness is stark
his self worth
leaves him cold
a soul in the dark.

Carries pain
through veiled sun
flickering light
falls like rain.

Rise up I say
you’re not unaided
walk with me
in this world today.

Speak to me
allow me in
walk this path
Light sets you free.

All rights reserved: copyright © Joni Zipp

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Quotation Saturday

Psalm 4:6 There be many that say, Who will shew us any good? LORD, lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us.

"To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it's about, but the inner music the words make." 
~Truman Capote
"Writing well is at one and the same time good thinking, good feeling, and good expression; it is having wit, soul, and taste, all together." 
"Take away the art of writing from this world, and you will probably take away its glory." ~Chateaubriand
"Words have weight, sound and appearance; it is only by considering these that you can write a sentence that is good to look at and good to listen to." 
~Somerset Maugham

"Thoughts fly and words go on foot. Therein lies all the drama of a writer." Julien Green
"There are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are."
Somerset Maugham

"Have something to say and say it as clearly as you can. That is the only secret of style." Matthew Arnold
"Write without pay until somebody offers to pay." 
~Mark Twain
"The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and the lightning bug." 
~Mark Twain V.S. Pritchett
"You must write for yourself, above all. That is [your] only hope of creating something beautiful." 
~Gustave Flaubert

Only passions, great passions, can elevate the soul to great things.
 ~Denis Diderot (1713 - 1784)

Friday, April 09, 2010

I Love to Blog

Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.
~~Cyril Connolly~~

When I started this blog, many moons ago, it was just a whim. I was going to write about the worlds troubles and I myself was going to stand on my high horse and cut down every non-fruit bearing tree in this world and point fingers and hopefully try to help. Maybe in hopes of it showing a beautiful fruit bearing tree as a result.

Something changed after the first few posts. It felt wrong, so I didn’t blog for a while and continued taking my writing courses, mentoring and writing my stories. Then it slapped me upside the head, write about writing!

I googled writing blogs all the time and found some interesting ones but they seemed so academic. I felt like I was sitting back in school at my desk, only this time, I had a computer in front of me, instead of pencil and paper.

I never wanted this to be an academic type blog on writing. I wanted you to feel like you’ve come into my living room, sat down with a nice warm cup of coffee or tea, whichever you prefer, and I would go on and on about what *I’ve* learned about the writing world.

Write it and they will come, that’s my theory. Like the field of writing dreams? They’ve come, they follow and they learn. Sometimes I go off topic and tell of my life in the here and now, but this is what makes my home here on the blog so comfortable. You not only learn about writing, you learn about this human being that is sitting on the other side of the screen typing her heart out. I hope you gain out of this blog, that I’m a good- natured, spiritual person who loves everything that life throws at me. I see it all as a challenge and I will gulp adversity down, and spit it back out, so I can go on and be a stronger person for everything that comes my way.

I don’t seek out followers, I don’t entice them to visit, I don’t shower them with gifts, I just write, and if they visit, well then, I hope they enjoy their stay. It is all I can ask for in a blog setting. Most of my following is writers, and they understand what makes up a writer at heart. We feel, like no other people in the world feels.

Maybe my topics deter you, or makes you feel uncomfortable? I think that would be my bible topics or headings? Some told me that the page had a hard time loading, and I know it was because of the pics I used, so I switched to scriptures, not to offend but to make visiting my home here easier for you. Navigating is easy too, the links are all helpful in the academic world of writing. I have fellow bloggers writing sites, friends who love to write, and my family here has grown.

So if you feel discouraged in writing, come visit me and sit for a spell. You’ll find something inspiring here and you’re more than welcome to leave a comment, or a tip on the table for my hospitality. ha ha.

I love to blog. If you’re visiting, enjoy. If you’re a regular, thank you. If you’re human too, like me, I send many blessings and positive thoughts your way so that you too may learn and grow in the world of technology. No one said you couldn’t have a cup of coffee and idle banter along the way.

godspeed friends...

The reason one writes isn't the fact he wants to say something. He writes because he has something to say.
~~ F. Scott Fitzgerald ~~

Thursday, April 08, 2010

Giving Up!

Acts 19:40 For we are in danger to be called in question for this day's uproar, there being no cause whereby we may give an account of this concourse.
Have you ever thought about giving up? I mean, on so many occasions I thought about giving up this blogging thing for many different reasons. Giving up writing for so many other reasons. Is anyone reading what I write? Is anybody learning anything new? Is everyone leaving here, knowing something they never knew before?

I know the answer is yes, because I try not to post crud. I like people leaving here with a sense of gaining some insight, whether it is about writing or life in general, that they might have had questions about, and found the answer here!

By default, I’m a people pleaser. Yes, another fault of mine. Honest to a fault and a people pleaser. Why I do this, I have no idea. I think it is our innate nature to try and please all of the people, all of the time. We don’t allow ourselves to just say NO to someone, or something that we think might hurt their feelings, but some of us can hurt certain people some of the time. Did you ever wonder why?

We live in a world where hurt and pain are like third arms. We go through life trying to please everyone and someone comes and says, “You stink!” No one’s ever said that to me, I’m just saying...

Writing is like a water well of words flowing onto the screen. We need these words to get our message across, and our words need to heal or educate, not hurt. I’m living in the writing world of indecision. Do I give up, or try to please all of the people all of the time? Do I make the decision alone or ask others what they think?

I think I’ll keep on writing. Stories come to me in waves, thoughts come in crashing thunderous waves, while people come and go like the flower buds in Spring, here today, gone tomorrow. Some buds stay with you a lifetime (like your parents and family) some pass on to another realm, (like your grandparents and the ones before them) and some just fade away like yesterday’s dinner.

Are materials like that? You know, the ones you hold onto and treasure? Do they eventually all get ripped from your life and become just a memory? Not the bud materials like a sofa and furniture, I mean the lasting ones that stick with you a lifetime, do they eventually all just become a memory? Will writing become just a passing fancy and a treasured memory?

This post probably makes no sense at all. I think you’ll walk away more confused than when you arrived. But allow me to say this, NEVER give up! God did not create us so that we could give up. Imagine had Adam given up, or Noah, or Moses. The list is endless.

If we give up, we are giving in to those people we aim to please. We’ll go quietly to our corner, and sulk. Sorry, I can’t give up. It’s not in me. Well, it is, but writing is a passion, not a fancy way with words. Writing is a gift, not a material object that can be driven away by a tree falling on top. Writing is my life, enjoy the journey, or get off the ride.

Wednesday, April 07, 2010

F2K Begins

Jer. 4: 19 My bowels, my bowels! I am pained at my very heart; my heart maketh a noise in me; I cannot hold my peace, because thou hast heard, O my soul, the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war;
The doors have been opened, the students unleashed onto the halls where they will run and scurry about looking for their homeroom. We’ll aim them in the right direction, but within weeks they’ll want to change rooms, which isn’t allowed.

The people will learn some simple basics in writing, then they’ll carry this course with them in all of their writing and maybe even come back again just for more fun.

This is my favorite part of the year. I get to guide and teach people new things, inspire them to do their best, and make friendships along the way. Sometimes my life gets stirred into an upheaval where I need this f2k to keep me right here on the ground where I belong.

I’m referring to my daily routine and the people who come into my life for God knows what reason, they use, abuse, slaughter and beat me down until I no longer recognize the real me. Oh, not in the physical sense, mind you, in the psychological sense where they feel empowered and I’m left standing in the rain, with my hair stretched out along my face.

The one thing I do have, is the knowledge of being aware that the psychological warfare is happening. Maybe these folk think they have the upper hand in their deceptive ploys, but I’m aware, lucid, knowledgeable and I go on my days as if nothing different has happened to change my life or way of thinking. Hey, if they can fake it, so can I.

F2K will bring some kind of presence into my life, just like WVU does. It will carry me away to the land of imagination, fun and fancy free. I’ll toss off the walls I’ve built up, let my hair down, run through the fields barefoot and let loose on my writing. This is what keeps me sane in an insane society.

Don’t get me wrong here people. What I’m trying to say is that writing is a portal for me, a place of escape where the mundane becomes a playing field. Battles are fought and I can win. It makes me feel good that the Lord gave me the gift of writing to unleash my insanity and release it to the unknowing world.

If you see me saying WOOHOO, know there is a pained smile behind it. If I make you laugh, know that laughter is cold in my heart. If I inspire you and make you feel good, know when I look in the mirror, my reflection is gone. When I ramble on and on about who knows what,  please know...I’m writing on the white board of  my mind.

Always the first in line and the last to know.

Psalm 73:16 When I thought to know this, it was too painful for me;

Tuesday, April 06, 2010

Something's Missing

Deut. 15: [13] And when thou sendest him out free from thee, thou shalt not let him go away empty:
Did you ever get the feeling that there is something missing in your life? Have you ever read an incomplete sentence and wondered, “What’s missing?”

I’ve been reading lately about modifiers, clauses, conjunctive something or other and cumulative what’s its. Does any of that make sense? I didn’t think so, there is something missing. Oh, natural flow and form.

I form a sentence with no thought in mind of how it is structured, or if I’ve placed the modifier there, is the adjective where it is suppose to be, the verb, oh dear, how about the noun? There just seems to be an empty space there when I do that.

I’m a writer and what I write is off the top of my head as I think a thought. There we go, maybe I shouldn’t be studying about the sentence and its structure, maybe I should be thinking about the way I write and speak.

I love philosophy and I can learn a lot about writing from the great philosophers, just as much as the great writing teachers of the world. But I can not grasp the concept of dissecting my writing, cutting it down and picking out a conjunctive clause. A generative what, an aural what? Others may remember independent and dependent clauses, prepositional phrases, and how to diagram them, but not me. This is not me!

If you want to be a writer, this is what is in your arsenal of language and writing skills, but again, there is something missing. A point to be made? I’m missing the point.

You mean to tell me if I can get all of this crammed into my brain, it will make me a better writer? If I practice these skills, will my words become aural and not verbal? Will I then take people down a yellow brick road and deliver them to the great and all powerful Oz?


Oz was nothing but some short man hiding behind a curtain, threatening the dickens out of innocent people and a DOG! Why would I do that? Lead you to the Wizard of Oz? I’ll tell you why. If you remember, Oz led Dorothy home. She had many a conflict, abounded in aromas, poetic muse filled the screen with a play on words, prose and otherwise. I remember the screen going from black and white, to vivid color!

I get it now! Your writing will go from dreary black and white to being full of color and magic and with all of this new arsenal in your backpack of writing skills, you too, can bring home what you were missing all along, the point!

Monday, April 05, 2010

A New Day

Deut. 26: 16 This day the LORD thy God hath commanded thee to do these statutes and judgments: thou shalt therefore keep and do them with all thine heart, and with all thy soul.
I’d like to thank all my friends and followers for putting up with me last week. Many may have stayed away because Joni went off topic, but it is okay. I only get like that about twice a year, Easter and Christmas, so you’re safe to come back and read about writing now. :)

Now if I have a major upheaval in my life, for certain I will blog about it because writing is my life, whether I, or anyone else for that matter, likes it or not. You’re definitely stuck with me and my ramblings. ha ha

Today I’m going to tell you about WVU, and in my terms, that’s Writers Village University, not West Virginia University. With all this talk about basketball I’ll be glad when football begins. Until then, I’m writing!

WVU is the best place on the net for writing courses. Bob Hembree has come up with some really tough courses that you pay for individually but WVU in and of itself offers over 200 courses for a one year membership fee. I think $99 for a life altering experience is well worth its weight in gold. The site won’t let you down.

Then we have F2K, the 7 week FREE writing course, that begins on April seventh. Oh dear, that's this Wednesday! We’ve had registration for a month now, and maybe it’s not too late for you to sign up. But please note, that when you do, you can not enter until the seventh. I don’t know why people have been trying to get in there for well over a month, they think the sign up, they get access to WVU, which they don’t.

F2K is a FREE course, WVU is a paid for site. Maybe Bob needs to change some of the offerings to show that more clearly in the sign up because people are complaining like there is no tomorrow! They want access to WVU now!

Hold on people! F2k is FREE, WVU is not. Bob and his assistants handle the demanding folks in an extremely cordial manner when they say, “You gain access on the 7th”, but these people are ruthless in their pursuit of writing.

“You said free! Why is it asking me to pay?”

Because clearly WVU is a paid for site, F2K is the FREE writing course offered. I see many come in from different countries, so maybe there is a language barrier somewhere, but even the English speaking folks, want in now. Patience my precious, patience.

We’ll begin with a week long orientation to get you familiar with the site, but will these people have the patience and perseverance to stay for seven weeks? We’ll see. It is always a fun experience. A learning experience for me and for them, the wannabe writers, or  the ones getting a refresher in the craft. 

Enjoy F2K for all it is worth. You’ll walk away a changed person, in your writing and in life for the new friends that enter your life.

Sunday, April 04, 2010

Poetry Sunday ~ He is Risen ~

He Has Risen!
After the love and glory
forsaken was our Lord.
Judged, beaten, abandoned
given to the hoard.

They cried out, “Blasphemer
hang him, let him die.”
He did nothing wrong, yet
“Kill him!” was their cry.

The cross a heavy burden
weighing his shoulder down;
blood swept his forehead
piercing thorns his crown.

“Please forgive them Father
for they know not what they do.
I now commend my spirit,
your hands I fall into.”

The sky blackened; the earth erupts
people fall to their knees.
Realizing the Son of Man
had calmed the mighty seas.

The sepulcher is empty
the angels came to say.
“Your Lord is now among you
He has risen on this day.”

The Messiah came to save us
through all that he had seen.
Our darkened spirit cleansed
the slate of sin wiped clean.

Praise be to heaven
to God and all the earth.
For loving man enough to bless
us with our Savior’s birth. 
May you all have
a blessed
Resurrection Sunday!
Luke 24: [44] And he said unto them, These are the words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with you, that all things must be fulfilled, which were written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms, concerning me.
[45] Then opened he their understanding, that they might understand the scriptures,
[46] And said unto them, Thus it is written, and thus it behoved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead the third day:
[47] And that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem.
[48] And ye are witnesses of these things.
[49] And, behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you: but tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem, until ye be endued with power from on high.
[50] And he led them out as far as to Bethany, and he lifted up his hands, and blessed them.
[51] And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven.
[52] And they worshipped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy:
[53] And were continually in the temple, praising and blessing God. Amen.

Saturday, April 03, 2010

Quotation Saturday

1Cor.15: 51 Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed

It's not that some people have willpower and some don't. It's that some people are ready to change and others are not.
~James Gordon, M.D.

Change has a considerable psychological impact on the human mind. To the fearful it is threatening because it means that things may get worse. To the hopeful it is encouraging because things may get better. To the confident it is inspiring because the challenge exists to make things better.
~King Whitney Jr. 
There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.
~Nelson Mandela (1918 - ), 'A Long Walk to Freedom'
Nothing in the world is permanent, and we're foolish when we ask anything to last, but surely we're still more foolish not to take delight in it while we have it. If change is of the essence of existence one would have thought it only sensible to make it the premise of our philosophy.
~W. Somerset Maugham (1874 - 1965), The Razor's Edge, 1943
Change your thoughts and you change your world.
~Norman Vincent Peale(1898 - 1993)
Any transition serious enough to alter your definition of self will require not just small adjustments in your way of living and thinking but a full-on metamorphosis.
~Martha Beck, O Magazine, Growing Wings, January 2004
The universe is change; our life is what our thoughts make it.
~Marcus Aurelius Antoninus (121 AD - 180 AD), Meditations
We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves.
~Lynn Hall, Where Have All the Tigers Gone?, 1989


Romans 1:26 For this cause God gave them up unto vile affections: for even their women did change the natural use into that which is against nature:

Galatians 4: 20 I desire to be present with you now, and to change my voice; for I stand in doubt of you.

Friday, April 02, 2010

Good Friday~ A time for CHANGE

John 3: 16 For God so loved the world, that He gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but have eternal life.

Change what?

Uh oh, here I go again, talking about change. Is all of this really necessary? I have to say, yes it is. Life is way too short to never change.

Do you know what today is? Today is what is called Good Friday. Some of you are believers some are not, that is okay. I’m a believer. If you haven’t figured that out by now, then you haven’t really been reading my blog. *wink*

There’s a point to be made here, and I’m getting to it.

Today is the day that we remember Jesus, the man who went before Pontius Pilate, not guilty of a single thing, and was battered and beaten, hung on a cross and left to die. What? He was the supposed King of Kings, the Messiah, the man who claimed to be ONE with God, His son, the Savior. Why was He left to hang up there and die?

Luke 23: 21 But they cried, saying, Crucify him, crucify him.[34] Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do. And they parted his raiment, and cast lots.[46] And when Jesus had cried with a loud voice, he said, Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit: and having said thus, he gave up the ghost.

Let me just say, had Jesus been whisked off that cross by the hands of God himself, we would still be here, not believing in anything other than man. How sad is that? Man did not create man, the earth, the stars innumerable, nor did science. God did. He had a plan from the very first breath, and man, man destroyed every step forward. So we needed salvation, redemption, grace. By the changes brought on by the Death on the Cross, we were granted a chance, a hope, a living breathing reason to change!

Jesus fulfilled the prophecy in the Old Testament. I hear a lot of people believe in the Old Testament, but are not sure whether to accept the New Testament. The two testaments walk hand in hand.Science does not fulfill, man does not fulfill, only did Jesus and all of His works fulfill the prophecy in the Old Testament.

God did not leave Jesus hanging on the cross to die. He watched as man denied His Son. He watched as man laughed and scoffed. He wrinkled His brow as man poked and prodded the wounds to make sure that this blasphemer was really dead.

There were few who remained true to Jesus, and on the Resurrection, He shone Himself to be the true LIVING BREATHING God! Prophecy fulfilled, the chance for hope ignited, the love for man breathed into our nostrils once again.

And still, as years pass, man turns his back on truth, on change, on life, for the love of false idols, materials, lies and deceit.

This is what this week has been to me. Remembering who died for ME! The man who shed blood for my sins; the God who loved me enough, and found me worthy enough to take the time and come here for me, for you, for salvation.

Change...all for the WORLD to take notice. Do you?


John 3: 17 For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.
[18] He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.
[19] And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil.
[20] For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved.
[21] But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God.

Thursday, April 01, 2010


Proverbs 24:21 My son, fear thou the LORD and the king: and meddle not with them that are given to change:

Change changing places...

Wow, I woke up this morning and as the songbirds sang a tune, I sauntered into the kitchen to make my morning coffee. Ahh, the fresh aroma of coffee filtering through the air. Almost as good as crisp morning springtime air.

It is spring in abundance out here on the farm. Robins are bouncing around the ground, poking their beaks into the soil, looking for a worm or two. Woodpeckers knock-knock- knock on wood, trying to wake up the entire tree. Squirrels are running about looking for last years corncobs that they buried, then there is me.

Me, I’ve been raking and cleaning up what winter left behind. Adam has been pulling dead weeds and raking too. We love this unseasonably warm weather, but with this warm air comes wind. Have you wondered all week why I have been making reference to wind? Twenty-five to thirty mils an hour, you just can’t ignore the stuff.

As I watched the sunrise this morning, not a trickle of wind. The birds were fluttering, doves are calling and me I just sit in awe of how much everything has changed in just one year. This time last year, the uncertain path laid before me was moving. We were finding Texas to be too much, we had hopes Nebraska was what was needed to help in our uncertainty, so we moved here. There has been nothing but change since we got here.

Not that change is bad, change is good and necessary to propel you forward to the next step in life. The winds brush you off the floor, push you and egg you on into the place where you are least comfortable, then WHAM, you’re standing in the midst of change, hoping beyond hope that it is all for the better.

I don’t even know if I like all of this change, I’m still in the accepting stages of what life is throwing at me. Writing is so much like life. One minute your writing what you know, the next thing you know, your character makes a hasty decision, moves along the story and then you stop, wonder what is going to happen next, then WHOOSH, uncertainty.

Life is like a box of chocolates, (brownie points for who said that.) Sometimes you never know what you’re going to get. Me, I got the nut. That’s my life story.  ha ha. Maybe life is like a jar of cookies, when it’s full you’re pleased knowing there is always something to munch on, but when it is empty, you feel empty too, never knowing if it will be full again.

And that my friends, is just the way the cookie crumbles.

Song lyric by who, I wonder? ;-)
Change changing places
Root yourself to the ground
Capitalize on this good fortune
One word can bring you round