I'm finally joining the ranks of the blogging community. Here I have been sitting, a self-professed writer, only reading the blogs of others and wishing I could do it, too -- when along came my wonderful son-in-law, Jason Worsley, visiting with his family of six, who volunteered to steer me safely into this particular new age. The second best gift of all is the gift of knowledge (the first is the gift we're celebrating on this Christmas Day, God's grace expressed in His Son, Jesus). Now I know -- with Jason looking over my shoulder and guiding my fingers -- what to do to share with you a little of what's happening in my life and in my heart.
I'm excited to introduce my second book, HEADING HOME, which just came out yesterday, published by Lady Bug Press, right here in Sonora. There are about 200 poems and essays, in over 300 pages. The first run was just 20 copies. The eventual price will be $15.00, but my introductory offer is $10.00, until these copies are gone. Sorry to sound like a salesman. I find the marketing part of being a writer to be most undesirable, so bear with me. But let me just share with you my favorite essay/poem from this volume. It represents not who I am yet, but who I want to be. I consider my spiritual gift to be that of EXHORTATION, which is best defined in this Bible verse: "Let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds" (Hebrews 10:24). And this is what heartprints is all about...HEARTPRINTS
We leave our fingerprints on everything we touch. This is one sure way thieves and murderers can be identified. But it isn't just the unique identity of our body that we cannot hide, for everything we are, revealed in our words and our silences, in our actions and our attitudes, in our tempers and our temperaments, comes out wherever we go, and rubs off on everyone we meet. Like footprints in new fallen snow, we leave heartprints wherever we go. A beautiful prayer by an unknown author is quoted in the November 22, 2006 issue of the OUR DAILY BREAD devotional: "O God, wherever I go today, help me leave heartprints of compassion, understanding and love; of kindness and genuine concern. May my heart touch a lonely neighbor or a runaway daughter or anxious mother or aged grandfather. Send me out today to leave heartprints. And if someone should say, 'I felt your touch,' may it be Your love that touched them, through me. Amen." Amen indeed!
It matters little where you are
But oh, it matters much
To bring the essence of God's presence
To everything you touch.
Every person is a pebble,
His world is a pond.
The ripple effect will make a connect
Nearby and far beyond.
While walking in new-fallen snow,
Wherever your path may wind,
The way you go all men will know
By the tracks you leave behind.
A man's unique identity
Is easily revealed;
His fingerprint will give the hint
Of what was once concealed.
And every kindergarten child
All throughout the land
Learns to display in plaster clay
The print of his own hand.
The print of finger, foot, or hand
Is how each does his part
To make his claim of simple fame --
But what about the heart?
Each time you walk into a room,
Whatever you do or say,
Your heart will spill for good or ill
On those who pass your way.
What will your heartprints say about
The person you'd like to be?
Fussing, complaining, on parades raining --
Is that what others will see?
Or will that room just brighten up
With light from heaven above,
As you bring a touch that means so much,
That feels like God's own love?
Oh that this crazy world would,
From words and deeds so kind,
Be better since it sees the prints
Your heart has left behind.
But oh, it matters much
To bring the essence of God's presence
To everything you touch.
Every person is a pebble,
His world is a pond.
The ripple effect will make a connect
Nearby and far beyond.
While walking in new-fallen snow,
Wherever your path may wind,
The way you go all men will know
By the tracks you leave behind.
A man's unique identity
Is easily revealed;
His fingerprint will give the hint
Of what was once concealed.
And every kindergarten child
All throughout the land
Learns to display in plaster clay
The print of his own hand.
The print of finger, foot, or hand
Is how each does his part
To make his claim of simple fame --
But what about the heart?
Each time you walk into a room,
Whatever you do or say,
Your heart will spill for good or ill
On those who pass your way.
What will your heartprints say about
The person you'd like to be?
Fussing, complaining, on parades raining --
Is that what others will see?
Or will that room just brighten up
With light from heaven above,
As you bring a touch that means so much,
That feels like God's own love?
Oh that this crazy world would,
From words and deeds so kind,
Be better since it sees the prints
Your heart has left behind.
Great Job! I hope you enjoy your new blog.
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