The tide recedes but leaves behind
bright seashells on the sand.
The sun goes down, but gentle
warmth still lingers on the land.
The music stops, and yet it echoes
on in sweet refrains.....
For every joy that passes,
something beautiful remains.
Miss you dearly Brittany
Today I honored all the fun, beautiful, memories of you.
You would be so proud over your family, especially your sister Johnny
She has your brave heart and has such a beautiful spirit.
Always in my heart~
Brittany Rakosky
Nov. 12,1984~Aug. 7,2008
I'm posting this URGENT PRAYER REQUEST for a family friend of ours whose daughter, Sara, was in a horrible car accident two nights ago. She's in intensive care, with severe head injuries and little to no brain activity. She is the daughter of Kathy Cunningham, my Aunt Kim's, high school, best friend. Kathy, has been a part of our family for many years and has always been there for my Aunt Kim. Sadly, tomorrow is the 3rd anniversary of my beautiful cousins Brittany's death... my Aunt Kim's daughter. This is so very difficult on so many levels. Please pray for a miracle. She is Kathy and Curtis's only child, and still so very young with her whole life out in front of her. I believe in the power of prayer and that is why I've shared this with you all, so PLEASE take the time and send up a prayer for Sara and her family.
Thank you!
God's care,
~Ryan
An old Cherokee told his grandson, "My son, there is a battle between two wolves inside us all. One is Evil. It is anger, jealousy, greed, resentment, inferiority, lies, & ego. The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy, & truth." The boy thought about it, and asked, "Grandfather, which wolf wins?" The old man quietly replied,
This months CSFF Blog Tour is on a book called Darkness Follows, a Christian supernatural horror by Mike Dellosso.
Sam Travis is a man on the brink of despair . . .
Out of a job and feeling worthless, Sam Travis is awakened one night to the sounds of a Civil War battle raging outside his Gettysburg home. But it’s the middle of the night, and the summer reenactments are long over. A search for the source brings him to an old journal by a Union soldier . . . written in his own handwriting.
When more of the mysterious writings appear and begin to mimic Sam’s own life, his search for the truth puts him on a downward spiral that eventually drives him from his wife, his daughter, and his home–and into an evil plot that could cost many lives, including his own.
~About the Author ( I got this from his website... this is his own words)
They say God works in strange and mysterious ways. Well, I’ve seen both firsthand so you won’t hear any disagreement coming from my corner of the world.
One of the most common questions I’m asked is: How did you get into writing? My birth as a writer was as sudden and soul-wrenching for me as was my birth as a Christian, my adoption into the family of God.
I was born a writer in September of 1998. My brother-in-law, Darrell, wrecked his motorcycle and landed himself in the Shock Trauma unit of the Albany Medical Center in New York. In a life-threatening coma, numb to the world around him, Darrell slept while my sister and the rest of our family prayed for God to spare him. It was during that time of wrestling with God, questioning His motives and sovereignty, accusing, begging, and waiting, that I first took up a pen and journaled my feelings, poured my wounded soul onto paper. Funny thing is, up until that point I had hated writing. Had no interest in it at all. But through my journaling I found a freedom I had not known before. You see, all my life I have struggled with stuttering. Sometimes my tongue gets so tied in knots and my throat so tight I can’t put together a complete sentence without faltering. But through writing I discovered I could say exactly what was in my heart, I could let the words flow on paper without a single hitch and with perfect fluency. For the first time in my life I felt free when it came to communication. And I loved it. The feeling was exhilerating. I felt like a mute man touched by the healing hand of Jesus, the words in my mind and heart finally set free to spread their wings and soar.
After Darrell recovered I didn’t stop writing. Writing had become a part of me, grafted into my being like a transplanted organ. I wanted it, desired it, needed it. I wrote about every inspirational thought that bloomed in my head, saw metaphors and word pictures in ordinary life, crafted stories from mundane activities. My imagination was working overtime, so alive and acute that stories sprang up like wildflowers.
I’ve been writing ever since, working to hone my craft and develop my ability. I had to learn to harness my enthusiasm and imagination, manage my time, and choose which projects to pursue over others. But I’m so thankful that God really does work in both strange and mysterious ways. Using the tragedy of a life-threatening accident He planted in me a desire to explore that Godlike attribute of creativity thorugh the written word.
To God be the glory . . .
I highly recommend that you read his Foreword in Darkness Follows... it is very touching.
My prayers go out to those in Joplin, MO and surrounding areas hit by the tornado. The images and videos coming out are shocking and horrifying. However I am confident Americans in Joplin will rise to the occasion, and out of the devastation we'll see incredible stories of hope... God is good all the time!
BE MERCIFUL and gracious to me, O God, be merciful and gracious to me, for my soul takes refuge and finds shelter and confidence in You; yes, in the shadow of Your wings will I take refuge and be confident until calamities and destructive storms are passed. ~Psalm 57:1
