Francy's New Morning

THE INVITATION By Frances Judge Come follow me to the river of life, Where I wash away sorrow and pain. The paths might be winding, the mountains too steep, But I’ll carry you through rough terrain. Child don’t fear the swells of the ocean, Or the trials that burden your soul. My arms are outstretched and willing to save you From winds that you cannot control. Come follow me as shepherds and wise men Who followed without hesitation. They gazed at the star in wonder and awe At the divine invitation. Come as you are to the table of grace                   Where forgiveness and joy are provided.                   Before heaven’s time, the plan was in place To redeem the lost souls and misguided. Come follow me to the whispering sea; H...

 My Book Blog tour begins with Double Decker Books. http://doubledeckerbooks.tumblr.com/ You can enter the contest to win an Amazon gift card or sign up to read a review and get a FREE copy of Randi's Steps

Fiction Devotionals Compiled by Kathy Ide Kathy Ide combines heartwarming fiction with devotionals that bring a personal meaning to each story. These beautifully written stories, written by talented authors, touched my heart. I loved the depth of the characters—spanning from a homeless young girl to a faith-filled old man. The life applications helped me to relate the struggles each character went through to my own life. The stories demonstrate God’s love and grace. I enjoyed being able to finish a story a day on my lunch break and look forward to getting the next book in the series.   Review by Frances Judge     Authors featured : Kathy Ide; Rene Gutteridge; Cindy Woodsmall; Robin Bayne; Angela Elwell Hunt; Barbara Curtis; Cecil Murphey; Deborah Raney; Roxanne Anderson; Nancy Arant Williams; Kathi Macias; Diane Simmons Dill; Buck Storm; Dona Watson; Jeanette Morris; Amarilys Gacio Rassler; Carolyn Bennett Fraiser; Jeanette Hanscome; Tracy Higley; ...

    Robins splash in a birdbath…without a care in the world. A breeze draws the earthy scent into the classroom, inviting me to leap into summer. Mr. Thomas points to the SMART Board and directs our eyes across a diagram of water dissolving rock as he drones on… “Rain mixes with carbon dioxide in the atmosphere as it travels. This forms an acidic solution that dissolves calcite, the main mineral of karst rocks, where most caves form…” I wish I was climbing out of my cave, not just hearing about one. “This acidic water drips through cracks and fractures and creates tunnels and passageways like an underground plumbing system.”   My own life has enough cracks and fractures to crumble into dust if I let it. What if I followed the tunnel that led to my dream instead? I’d be in New York City, designing graphic arts. “Ally, are you with us?” I nod. “Then please tell us how stalactites are formed.”   “By a drip,” I ans...

    Aaron and the birds at a soccer game Aaron's soccer team   My son’s high school soccer team set records this season—for the worst losses in their school’s history. They clinched the title at the head-shaking game when they lost eleven to one. I admit my husband and I were glad to miss that game…but because we only went to the home games, we missed the one goal our son scored at another field and the last and best losing game of the season.   When Aaron came home after the final game and kicked off his cleats, I asked him the usual question, “So how was your game?”   And got the usual answer, “Good. We lost.”   I think he enjoyed getting our hopes up saying good first and pausing before the word lost. At least his easy-going attitude kept him from caring about losing.   “So what was the score?”   “Three to one.”   “That’s not too bad. Who scored?” I asked, hoping he did.   “A kid with specia...

  Our view from the hotel   Rowing in Manhattan  While we were here, what was happening at the hotel? We could’ve celebrated our 25 th anniversary at a country inn. We could’ve camped along a riverbank…could’ve stayed home and relaxed on the beach a few blocks away.   Could’ve, should’ve.   New York City sounded romantic. We met there, dated there, lived there for three months (until I got pregnant and couldn’t stand the smell of roasted pork spiraling its way from the German restaurant directly into my nostrils…and I convinced my husband the pollution could be poisoning our tiny baby.)   It was romantic. At first.   The hotel sat on the upper west side, near Central Park and the Museum of Modern Art. It wasn’t the Plaza, but it was nice and clean and just where we wanted to be for our anniversary. Classical music played in the background as we got our room card. From our window on the fifteenth floor, we coul...

   My grandparents somewhere in Europe     We knew it was almost time. Uncle Bill and Dad carried a few chairs into my grandparents’ living room. Uncle George brought the projector and rested it on the metal folding table. We had to end our hide-and-seek game since the living room was off limits, or we could “take our game elsewhere” for the next twenty minutes while they got the room ready.    “Elsewhere” was easy in the old Brookline “mansion” Mom grew up in with its many bedrooms and bathrooms, a nursery, and Grandpa’s doctor’s office. Sometimes the seeker would give up, defeated. Sometimes the hiders didn’t know the seeker gave up and would remain hidden until hungry or bored. When Grandpa called everyone to begin the show, about ten of the nineteen grandkids would wander out of hiding spots often smelling like mothballs.     We were expected to get excited to see the slides from Grandma and Grandpa’s latest trip...

charcoal sketch by Terence McManus PLANTING MY FEET IN THE SHADOWS   At nine years old I was either a dreamer Or superstitious, Or odd; Following Randi’s steps, I planted my feet In my friend’s invisible footprints; The shadow of her being. Could I transport into her world? Her golden tendrils become mine? Her dimpled smile, mine? Her perfect home, mine?   Minor misstep-- It couldn’t happen, but Dreaming could. As I climbed her steps My hand grasped the iron railing Where her fingers touched Marching behind, Synchronized. Up to her pink room Dappled with dancing daisies and rose ribbons, Everything my room was missing.   I watched her mother part Randi’s hair Into a straight line Then gather her waves into bouncy pigtails. Randi twirled them around like propellers And they laughed. Was it strange to love my friend so much To want to be her mirror image? Would I follow her Into her ba...