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Poetry, Weekly Inspirations

Long Distance Trucker

I met a man online who was a long-distance trucker

I was weary of his career and didn’t want to be a sucker

He had been driving many miles and decided to take a break

He said he was searching for that special number 8

She didn’t have to be perfect or of a voluptuous size

Just be able to carry on a conversation and intrigue his mind

Trying to find that unique someone to share his life

Who could understand, be sympathetic, and with no strife

He knew he had little time to give because he was married

Already married to the cross-country roads so he tarried

I could hear the loneliness in is voice and sensed his uneasiness

He confessed he wanted to settle down and have someone to finesse with

He admitted he chose this life of a trucker because it fit

Like a hand in a glove when he was 20 but now he’s 48ish

His career has taken its toll and now doesn’t look so great

I’ve heard with the lonely trucker comes much heartache

The more I thought, pondered, and prayed I soon saw the truth

The lonely trucker wasn’t lonely as he said, and I had the proof

Facebook photos, Instagram posts, and late-night confessions

The mask slipped and revealed the heart as I listened

City to city, house to house, bedroom door to bedroom door

No thanks, I’ll keep my heart for Mr. Right not for someone looking to score

Poetry, Weekly Inspirations

Passion Froze

grayscale photo of a man running
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Oh! What a crush I had

Following so close behind

Hoping and wishing he’d look back

Did he notice did he see me

Muscle bound and luscious lips on fire

If I could taste it would quench my desire

As it so happened I’d get that chance

School project alone or was it happenstance

He felt my lust for him without saying a word

Reached over pulled me in close I was weak as a bird

Taking full advantage of the minute or two alone

I felt his biceps and smelled his cologne

Mouth open tongue out desire and passion

Filled the room until the door came crash-in

Back to work you guys whew that was close

Still remembering years later passion froze

Weekly Inspirations

What Does Reading Do For Me?

photogrid_1453943279105_1_1.jpgI know I’ve got a good read when the novel grabs me by the hand on the first page. It pulls me line by line refusing to let me go that’s when I know I’m off on an amazing adventure.

I run through the sentences like playing the game Hide and Go Seek anxiously awaiting to feel what’s about to happen next.

As the characters unfold I talk to them as if they were my mother, my sister, or my best friend.  Scolding, crying, comforting, and wrapping my arms around

their pain.  My heart races to the rhythm of each word.  It’s so hard to put you down even for a moment.  I look up and it’s 2 a.m. and I must go to work in the morning.

We will meet again tomorrow, same time, same place.

 

 

Some of those books are:

  1. Cooked by Jeff Henderson
  2. The Road of Lost Innocence by Somaly Mam
  3. Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston.

 

Poetry, Weekly Inspirations

I Write Because…

I write because I heard a voice that said, “Write what you hear.”

As I listened in closely and pressed my inner ear

I began to hear these words come together like something I’ve never heard before

It started drizzling, raining, thunder and lightning

Thumping my heart to release the caged word

Here it comes pushing the award-winning article out

Poetry, poems, stories untold yet ready to be heard

This is why I write

-Lisa

Weekly Inspirations

Who I am and why I’m here

To answer the question, “Who I am and why I’m here,” I must take you back to when I was a kid.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here 

 

I am much like my mother who is soft spoken, is the peace-maker in the family, and is always willing to help someone in need. She has been taking me to church since I was an energetic and talkative 5-year-old.  I used to bring my notebook to church and take notes mimicking my mother.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

English was always my favorite subject in school and I have my 4th grade teacher Ms. Sutphin to thank for that. Ms. Sutphin was a 6 ft. tall German woman with a thick accent. Each time she read a story, she stopped right before the drama ended leaving us 9-year-olds thirsty for more and hardly able to sleep that night.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

I was a tall, thin and very quiet in school. I was shy and very unsure of myself.  I was in love with my books and especially my diary I named DD.  I spilled out my sneaky 13-year-old thoughts on paper, then locked up DD with a little key that came with her, and hid her under my mattress.  She was a 5-year diary that I wrote in almost every day for 5 years.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

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My grandmother and I formed a bond through writing when I was a teen. I was one of many granddaughters and we lived 800 miles apart.  I still have one of her letters that she wrote to me over 20 years ago written on pink paper.  She said in her letter these unforgettable words, “My eyes are getting dim and this will be my last letter.”  RIP grandma, thank you for making me feel special.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

I started seeking out pen pals to correspond with when I was a teen because I was bored at home and had to babysit a lot. I found an ad in one of my teenage magazines for pen pals and started a 10+ year relationship with Rehmat from Ethiopia.  I learned that what I saw on TV about Africa was very different than how she described her life.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

I enrolled in college right after high school but dropped out after a year unable to decide what I wanted to do with my life, deeply discouraged, and unable to pay the tuition.  Fast forward 25 years, I went back to school, majored in journalism with a focus on writing and received my BA degree graduating with honors.

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

I taught my sons to pray as preschoolers and now they are grown men.  Recently, we came together for the holidays and sat down to eat, we held hands and after we said our grace, my sons proceeded to say the confession that I taught them as teenagers that I assumed they had forgotten or didn’t say anymore, “All my needs are met, we are out of debt, and there is plenty more to put in store.”

Who I Am and Why I’m Here

I’ve had two kidney transplants receiving the 2nd kidney from my sister. When I was on dialysis it was painful, very frustrating, and my life seemed very dark. There was even a time that I didn’t think I would live through it and a time I didn’t want to. I am still here not just surviving but thriving, working everyday, enjoying my family and friends and doing some traveling too. Living life.


Who I Am and Why I’m Here

I didn’t share my story for years.  It wasn’t until I had been meditating and praying, then sat down at my laptop to write that my heart and my brain tried to get together, but couldn’t agree.  So my spirit took over and said it’s time – no more hiding.  I wrote sentences that poured out of me like an open fire hydrant. After reading it, I knew it didn’t come from me, but the Spirit within. I sent my article to a magazine, it was published and won an award for my story. (See video in the About section on my blog).

This is why I’m here.

Weekly Inspirations

In All Kinds of Weather

 


An unexpected visitor came to see us, and his name was Hugo. We were warned that he was on his way to South Carolina from the Caribbean. He was beginning to threaten everything we had, our belongings, our homes, businesses, cars, and even our very lives.  We had to take his visit seriously.

When he came banging on the door, he was bringing with him high winds, massive flooding, and devastation without repentance.  People boarded up their windows and doors.  Many had to evacuate the low-lying areas along the coast.

We frantically prepared the best way we could for the unexpected with supplies of candles, matches, flashlights, bottled water, and perishable items.

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We could hear him getting closer by the whistling of the trees and the pouring rain hitting the roof like golf balls falling from the sky.

When he came to my door he didn’t wait for an answer, he beat at the door trying to get in. The lights flickered then the house went pitch black. I could hear my heart beat like a drum while we waited in the dark for Hugo to leave.

Unable to move, we prayed for our safety, and our loved ones and neighbors. Hours passed by while listening to the fierce winds ripping shingles off the rooftop. We began to get very sleepy and fell into a deep sleep.

Awakened suddenly by the bright sunlight piercing through the mini-blinds it was finally daybreak, and the worst was over.  I rushed to peer out of my window to see what happened.  I saw broken tree limbs and debris everywhere.

Miraculously, our home was intact. We were safe.

Hurricane Hugo traveled hundreds of miles, caused billions of dollars in damage, tore down power lines leaving many people homeless, and many fatalities. This was a Category 4 Hurricane with over 100 miles per hour winds. He came so close but turned and left us alone.

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My grandmother would often say there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother, and his name is Jesus, so we sent Him an invitation that night and He came inside and stayed with us.

In all kinds of weather invite Him in.

Proverbs 18:24 … But there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother (New King James Version)

Luke 8:24 And they came to Him and awoke Him, saying “Master, Master, we are perishing!” Then He arose and rebuked the wind and the raging of the water, And they ceased, and there was a calm.

Weekly Inspirations

In the Dark

asphalt dark dawn endless

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I thought I was all alone, but then suddenly a man appeared in the night and tapped on my foggy window with raindrops drizzling down his face and asked, “Are you alright, Mam?”

I said with a quivering voice, “No, I tried to make it to the exit up ahead but ran out of gas.”

He looked at my precious sons sound asleep in the backseat; one in the car seat and the other slumped over to the side, while I sat there off to the shoulder of the road in my white Chevy Chevette hatchback.

He pondered for a moment and kindly said, “I’ll get you some gas, do you have some money.”

I nervously said, “I only have $2.”

He took the money and pulled off exiting up ahead. As I sat there in the dark, shivering and cold, my two little angels in the backseat were unaware of the circumstances we were in.  I noticed as 20-minutes went by that no one else stopped to inquire about us. I felt alone and had no way to call anyone.

As more time passed doubt started to set in and I cried to God, “He’s not coming back, is he?”

Then all of a sudden blinking lights pulled up close behind me, and the same man with a red gas can in his hand opened my gas cap and started filling up my empty tank. I looked up and whispered, thank you.

As the rain plummeted like bullets falling from the sky over his yellow rain coat, he tapped on the window and said, “I had to stop and buy a gas can; I needed one anyway.  You are ready to go now, Mam.”

I said teary-eyed as I shook my head, “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any more money to give you. God bless you.”

He said, “God bless you too,” as he went on his way.

I realized that I never had to get out of my car, get wet, nor wake up my boys. My angel.

Psalm 27:14 Wait on the Lord; Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart; Wait, I say, on the Lord!

 

Weekly Inspirations

Miracle Meet Miracle: Surving a Plane Crash

 

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I attended the Epitome Awards Gala in Dallas, TX, in October 2015. I was one of the nominees for the “Testimony of the Year” award. I won the award for an article I wrote for Epitome magazine, “I Will Live and Not Die,” which was about my spiritual

and physical battle with kidney disease.

I received many warm embraces and saw many smiling faces from people who came up to me after the ceremony to congratulate me on my award and tell me how my story really touched and inspired them. They wanted my business card, wanted to know if I had a website, or if I had a blog, but I had nothing but a testimony.

I went with my family and a friend to an Italian restaurant in Dallas to celebrate and just so happened this lovely woman who I met earlier was there.

When I was about to leave, she grabbed me by my hand and started walking me toward the door, and I followed her thinking where is she taking me.

She stood me firmly by the wall next to this tall and handsome gentleman wearing a black tux and said distinctly, “Miracle meet miracle. Honey tell her your story.”

airplane flying under white clouds during night time
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At that moment, my heart started beating faster in anticipation of what was to come because I knew this was a God moment. He began to tell me how he survived a plane crash, had many broken bones, and couldn’t walk for six years.  My mouth fell open, but no words would form. I looked at him up and down as he stood next to me straight as an arrow with feet firmly planted in God, no doubt.

I replied as I stumbled over my words, “You’ve been through the fire and don’t even smell like smoke.”

I will never forget his response, he popped his collar up trying to be cool and hunched his shoulders while cocking his head to the side and replied, “I haven’t even been singed.”

I sit here in my bedroom in my comfortable white high back chair next to the window listening to the rainfall while reminiscing over the words to gospel singer Marvin Sapp’s song, Testimony, as tears well up in my eyes.

He sings, “…experienced loss at a major cost but I never lost faith in You. So if you see me cry, it’s just a sign that I, I’m still alive.  I’ve got some scars but I’m still alive.  In spite of calamity, He still has a plan for me and it’s working for my good and it’s building my testimony.  I’m so glad I made it…”

(For more see my YouTube video in the About section).