Word Springs

Prayer to give me strenght through my trials

2009-07-10T23:51:00.001-05:00

Father in Heaven you are most powerful. I gladly take ridicule upon myself when those who deny you see me the fool. You told us the world sees foolish what they cannot understand.

Neither can they accept it without Your intervention. Lord, give me strength against the angry winds of unbelief. Forgive my anger when I meet resistance against myself for my own sake. You instructed your disciples to brush the dust off their feet and leave a place that would not welcome them in Your name. I know you expect the same from us.

My witness has been thwarted and I became angry and gave into that anger. I know you are able and will give me strength to move forward in the days ahead. You have already forgiven my sins, but I am yet to repent and seek forgiveness for my own sake so that my witness is not interrupted.

Lord thank you for Your intervention and let me leave my enemies in your hands. You are capable of softening hearts.

I praise you for my friends in these times. You have seen to my heart and given me helpers. Praise Your name by the blood of Jesus Christ our Savior Your only begotten Son.

Amen

Goodbye Michael

2009-07-07T21:41:00.003-05:00

Many of us grew up with Michael Jackson. He was a fascinating boy and man. He was a gift who gave of his soul and somehow stayed youthfully naive and often troubled.

Go with God Michael

To the family and friends of Farrah Fawcett, my deep condolences and prayers are with you. Farrah was not just a beautiful face, she inspired through her good times and bad.

Go with God Farrah.

Prayer by Billy Graham

2009-06-05T12:52:00.002-05:00

I received this in an e-mail. Please read it and pray with him from the heart.

Truth.........from a man the media has never been able to throw dirt on..amazing!!

He has certainly hit the "world" on the head!!

Billy Graham's Prayer For Our Nation

THIS MAN SURE HAS A GOOD VIEW OF WHAT'S HAPPENING TO OUR COUNTRY!

'Heavenly Father, we come before you today to ask your forgiveness and to seek your direction and guidance. We know Your Word says, 'Woe to those who call evil good,' but that is exactly what we have done. We have lost our spiritual equilibrium and reversed our values. We have exploited the poor and called it the lottery. We have rewarded laziness and called it welfare.. We have killed our unborn and called it choice. We have shot abortionists and called it justifiable.. We have neglected to discipline our children and called it building self esteem. We have abused power and called it politics.. We have coveted our neighbor's possessions and called it ambition. We have polluted the air with profanity and pornography and called it freedom of expression. We have ridiculed the time-honored values of our forefathers and called it enlightenment. Search us, Oh God, and know our hearts today; cleanse us from every sin and Set us free. Amen!'

Whose Insane

2009-06-04T20:55:00.002-05:00

I have learned a very sad and hard lesson. I tried to bring sense to an insane situation. I tried to calm the storm and the implosion of a once great relationship. I found out I was the insane one.

How to get whiter teeth

2009-05-26T22:52:00.001-05:00

Simply through the power of observation, I have finally figured out the best way to make your teeth seem whiter. Use black lipstick.

Something I learned today that is of little use.

2009-05-14T23:27:00.002-05:00

Today I learned that my opinions counts for very little. But, your opinion of me counts for a lot, or so you think.

Up and coming

2009-03-01T12:03:00.003-06:00

I'm not around here much lately as I've been busy on my first fiction novel. What started as a short story is expanding into a much larger work. The book's working title is "The Search" and is a psychological suspense. Look for news of this story in the coming months.

Thank you for your patience.

Glenda

"Visions In Poetry" now available

2008-10-30T14:12:00.011-05:00

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,"Price Reduced $17.75 from $20.00"
This book a great coffee table style book full of beautiful graphics and poetry. Some of these poems have been published in a local newspaper.

Both the front and back cover's are laminated for lasting beauty, preventing that overworn look often found in paper backs and hard covers. Each page is printed on 32pound paper to keep graphics for bleeding from the previous and following pages.

Give yourself and your guests a chance to relax while waiting for that meal or appointment. It is also a good conversation started.

The complimentary CD helps visually impaired to appreciate the readings, or for the most pastoral you may wish to put on your head phones, lay back and relax. No need to listen to all poems on your way to your favorite. Each is recorded on its own track.

Please click on the link above to puchase this book for just $20. Order in bulk for your upcoming Christmas list and save on shipping costs.

Pink April

2008-10-11T11:43:00.002-05:00

Pink April

Today I’ll buy a pink brazier
wear under sheer white top.
Not any day would be so brash
to celebrate my breasts.
But now as April proves
my cup can yet be full.
I’ve need for outward sign
of what the doctor’s left.

Today I’ll buy pink ribbons
to turn about in bows
and join them pinned
as million others will
to celebrate woman’s gift.
The sweet milk suckled
from our nipples
by tender newborn mouth
cleave two mounds of flesh
for proud bellies filled

Today I’ll touch unashamed
the curve upon my chest.
What God endowed be as it is
no need to hide from me.
If it be gone to save my life
in time, as time unfolds,
I’ll have memory of
the soft bare flesh
of my womanhood.

As featured on Helium.com

Thistles in the Corn

2008-08-29T22:53:00.002-05:00

Hey, it's not as bad as it looks. I've just been cleaning up my blog from the past of stuff. So now I am going to be sharing again some of the new and old of my work, I invite you to comment as always and even leave an address please where I can find you check out your blog or site. Or an e-mail address so that I can reply to your comments.

This story is one that I wrote some time back. My guess is that this is what I get when I cross a folk tale style with a parable. Is it then a folk parable? Your guess is as good as mine, but do enjoy this short piece.

Glenda K. Fralin (author) copyright pending
Approximate Word Count 595

Thistles in the Corn

“Move faster,” the father called. “We must dig these thistles out of the corn.” The mid-day sun was beating down, and Boy’s water was running out. He’d sweat the liquid from his body. He felt dizzy, and began to reel. Drinking his last gulps he pled to the father.

“Sorry son. I think we can break until the sun drops over those trees. You don’t look so good.” The father replied with a look of concern for his son.

They took some shade under the pickup parked at the edge of the field. Boy grabbed a jug of water and downed several gulps of it, then grabbed a sandwich. Reclining on his elbows, he looked out at the corn field. It was a small acre patch of sweet corn. But, it was a money crop at the farmer’s market.

The father spoke looking at Boy, "Son, I am getting very old and will die soon. I want you to listen. You must live a very good honorable life. It will earn you respect in this world."

Boy did not want to hear about his father dying, but he asked: "Father, it is so hard to live a good and honorable life these days. I know you are an honorable man. How do I live such a life?"

The father replied, "Well, the thistles are like the things that seem small. They can grow and take over. You must keep tending to your life each day as you do the thistles in this field. Now get some rest and we will refill our water flasks and get back to those thistles."

...

Boy woke up as he felt coolness brush over his skin, and knew the sun was moving on. The light would be fading soon. “Father, think we should get back to those thistles now?”

No answer.

Boy looked over at his aged father and knew that he had died. There was no color left in the old man’s face and the eyes lay open wide. Covering the father’s body with his own, Boy cried then picked up the elder man and lay him gently in the truck.

Boy called his mother from the hospital and asked her to come and tell him what to do.

The woman came calmly in and looked at her husbands still form in the emergency room. She told the desk clerk to call Hope and Faith Funeral Home to come and prepare the body. When the body was released the boy and the mother left alone clinging together for solace.

The next morning was the funeral rites with a few friends and family in attendance. “Our brother has gone before us,” the minister said, “we’ll catch up with him in our time. Love be with you all.”

The mother and son thanked the pastor and gave their few dollars of fee. They bound for home when the burying was done to do as the father had instructed.

That night the mother told Boy, “Father left this homeland to me till I die and then it will be yours. But, to you son he left the acre and all it needs and bears.”

The morning broke early and Boy lifted his tired and woeful body from his bed. He drank some coffee and ate an egg. He kissed Mother on the cheek, smiled and left for the day. No words were needed.

Boy went to his acre, looked up to the only cloud in the sky, shed a single tear and cleared thistles from the corn.

Green Magic

2007-11-25T20:04:00.002-06:00

Green Magic

Green dreadlocks, like ropes
of fairy lights, splay
protection from falling
into the dark void.
A magic of half learned
incantations voice
attempts to thwart
cannibalistic legions
like a fortress of spikes.

No wizard or warlock
shall bewitch this hour
from the stalk that rises
out the depths of evil,
unseen under a facade
of carbon, burned,
dehydrated potions.

Bring on the dance
of children in masks,
the youth that spawn
innocence in a fairies’ realm
with green herbalist
maypole for small
hands to grasp - heart cords.

The above poem bears a moderate explanation. I wrote it from an image of the horsetail plant which was used in ancient Roman and Greece for medicinal purposes. There is still a lot of research about it today, but as this was written in October, I chose a somewhat different appeal for the herbs history.

A short story

2007-08-15T14:27:00.000-05:00

The Tunnel

by Glenda K. Fralin

I don’t know exactly the moment we stepped into that tunnel, but I know that it was on a Sunday after church when the family was out for an afternoon walk. We loved our nature walks after church, for they allowed us to look deeply and intuitively into God’s beautiful creation. My husband and three children, Bobby, Sissy, and Kat all participated with pleasure.

This Sunday we took a path on a trail we’d never explored before. We drove forty miles north to a well known park for that Sunday’s adventure. It was a rocky path with no real markers, but landmarks were not difficult to figure out. We were experienced hikers so we had nothing to worry about.

I took the picnic cooler out of the car and my husband Robert grabbed the old plastic cloth we liked to throw over the picnic tables. You learn early on nature walks that birds love to make their droppings on picnic tables. We ate at a table near the beginning of the rough path. Simple sandwiches, pickles, chips and cola were our lunch and then we each had an insulated flask to take along filled with water.

We trekked contentedly into the trees as we followed the trail, soon surrounded by the beautiful colors of the wild. We played a game of naming the various shades of green. Some red leafy plants along the path, their shape and hues reminded me of flames. The leaves boasted intense reds in the center, then slowly and indistinctly changing to a yellow orange at the edges. I bent and stole a leaf from a plant, thanking God for the small gift to be identified later. The odors of moist tree bark, mosses growing on anything shaded from the sun, rock dust, and mud under wet leaves were sweet and sour together. I loved that smell. I could hear birds of different species: the call of a Bobwhite quail, the chirping of sparrows, and the pecking of a woodpecker on a tree somewhere out of view.

Yellow and white butterflies fluttered by, with the rare monarch joining the pallet. Squirrels scattered noisily up trees as they heard our footsteps. Their indignant little voices made me laugh at their antics.

We talked as each pointed out something that caught their interest. My son Bobby was thrilled to draw our attention to a pile of deer droppings that were still steaming. The girls each said “oooough” and punched Bobby’s arm giggling.

Robert looked ahead and saw the entrance to the tunnel. We were all elated with a sense of adventure. “That is so odd,” noted Robert. “That is a man made tunnel out here in the middle of nowhere. I wonder what its purpose is. It cuts into a hill, but the hill isn’t really all that high or steep from the looks of it. See, there is even a path to take up and over the hill if we choose.”

“The tunnel,” the children cried in unison.

“Ok,” Robert laughed and winked at me.

As soon as we entered the tunnel, something in my spirit suddenly felt lonely. I thought at first it was just me and the dimness of the interior, faintly lit with overhead bulbs. The color of the brick turned to a dull gray instead of the beautiful red and orange colors we saw from outside.

The feeling wasn’t so distinct then, it was just a kind of let down that I attributed to a creeping weariness. I worried about the children too as I tried to keep them close in a place dark as that manmade cave.

Then I noticed that the whole family was quiet. Maybe our noon meal was weighing on us. As we explored further the tunnel seemed to grow wider and at one point we stopped to sit on some benches along the side.

The children started complaining about small things at first, then fighting with each other.

My husband looked at me and we knew that we both felt the same loss of something in ourselves. It seemed individual yet all inclusive.

“Do you all want to head back the way we came?” Robert asked. “I think we made a mistake taking this route.”

More than a request it was a command and none of us argued. But, as we turned to follow our steps back to the entrance we met with a hideous blackness that was like an impenetrable wall. We then looked ahead of us at the other hiker’s in the cave. Calling out to them, we finally realized they could not hear us.

Yelling louder, we noticed one man turning back, but he obviously met the same result. We could hear him, but he could not hear us. He just attempted to turn back like we had.

We were in his black.

Robert looked at me and the kids who looked panicked. My earlier sense of dread was a warning, and now it was too late. Robert commanded. “Ok, we are never alone; we know that even if we feel we are. I don’t know what this place is, but we have to do the one thing we know to do. We need to pray.”

Kneeling Robert prayed fervently for our family and our journey through the darkness. Then I said my prayer, mirroring his words and adding a request for healing of my spirit. The children each knew Christ, and each prayed as well.

“Do you remember the poem Footprints in the Sand”?

They all answered me to the affirmative. “Think of that poem, and think of when God said ‘I shall never leave you or forsake you’.”

We began to repeat the words as a continuous prayer continuing our walk cautiously. Then I quoted scripture from Roman’s chapter eight that ‘nothing can separate us from the love of God if we love Him.’

I think we still felt the dullness of spirit, but as we looked ahead we could see other’s were weeping and tearing at their hair in despair. Parents were crying out in terror in front of their own children and the children were screaming in panic. But, they were more like echoes as we caught up to the place where each had walked before.

We heard a hum from behind and I knew there must be other’s behind us, in our black. I reasoned that if we could see those ahead, the ones behind must see us.

That meant they could hear our echoes as well. “Take heart in God, pray to Him. We have passed here before you and are praying for us all.”

My family never questioned what I said, but looked at me with complete understanding and joined in relaying the promise to those following.

We finally saw a glimmer of light. We had no idea how long we were in that tunnel.

It was at the side of the tunnel shining into the darkness ahead so that we were able to escape back into the natural world outside.

We saw those in front of us passing as though they had not seen it. We called back to those behind to look for the light at the side of the tunnel. There was an opening there.

We walked out and found ourselves on the path that had led up the hill. We were at the summit. We grabbed each other and cried, praying our thanks for anyone to hear.

Behind us we noticed other’s escaping into the sunlight with us. We all prayed together and they said that if they had not heard us, they may well have missed the exit.

Together we followed the rocky path through the trees down the opposite side of the hill. Our spirits were back and we wanted to explore on, careful to stay in the sunlight.

When we reached the bottom of the hill, we searched the entire hillside for an exit from that tunnel.

We never found one.

Wade Sings "Two Little Blackbirds"

2007-06-28T10:38:00.000-05:00

My grandson sings "Two Little Blackbirds". The joy of a childs voice. Click the above link and enjoy.

Cheyanne sings traffic light

2007-06-28T10:24:00.000-05:00

Is there anything more wonderful than hearing a child sing a cute song. Courtesy of my granddaughter Cheyanne. Click on the link above to hear her sing "Traffic Light"

Tiffany's Tail Tale

2007-06-24T15:57:00.000-05:00

It's so easy it seems to get involved with my own life these days that I sometimes forget to come here to post. I do think about anyone who may visit me here. But, I'm often as life captures me up in business neglectful of doing a routine and regular update. I beg your forgiveness. My hope is that you, the reader, will enjoy the pieces of myself and my family that I share here anyway.

Children, I found while raising my own love to participate in what an adult is doing. Sometimes it can seem like a hindrance especially when it involves precision. I also discovered that if we take some time to involve them intentionally in something we do, they will remember that moment long after. My granddaughter was spending the night with us a few weeks back. She wanted to be around me as I was working at the computer. She also wanted me to let her help me. I decided that I would help her to write a story. Every child has one. This is Tiffany's.

Tiffany’s Tail Tale

This is a tale about a tail. The tail was on a mermaid. Tiffany loved the mermaid and thought it had an especially beautiful tail. She asked her mother if she could make her a tail like the mermaid, except she wanted hers to be pink.

Tiffany’s mommy said, “Yes, my darling child. I will make you a pink tail that looks like a mermaid tail.

Tiffany was so happy with her new pink, mermaid tail that she forgot to go to sleep that night. Instead she spent the whole night looking at her new tail in the bathroom. She did a prince dance to watch her tail twist and twirl around her. Then she washed her tail with a washrag to make it look pretty.

When Tiffany’s mommy woke up the next morning, she saw that Tiffany had been awake all night prancing and dancing with her pink, mermaid tail.

“Tiffany, you must go to sleep or I will have to cut off your pink, mermaid tail.

Tiffany didn’t want her mommy to cut off her new pink, mermaid tail. So she went to her room to take a nap.

When Tiffany was sleeping with her new pink, mermaid tail, she dreamed that she was in the ocean and was not just wearing a pink, mermaid tail, but she was becoming a princess mermaid.

When Tiffany woke up she found out that she was a pink princess mermaid.

By Tiffany and grandma.

The Players

2007-05-25T14:40:00.003-05:00

As promised I am posting the new poem. I hope you enjoy it.

The Players

Who are the players
of the lives I planned to live?
The missionary that went to Africa
to teach the Good News, cured
the diseases of the world,
fought the battles of the weak?
I know You assigned those rolls
to other able bodies.
You gave me the life
I was intended to give
by Your perfect design.
I’ve been told
I have a mission here
to nurse the community.
and battle for the weak
by becoming weak
to gain understanding,

I am the player
of the life I hoped to live.
You, my precious Lord,
are the author of my life.

Goal Met

2007-05-20T22:21:00.000-05:00

As promised I did spend time on all three projects noted the below. I have still got some editing and refining to do of course. I would not want to post a poem that is sloppy, so I will get that up at a later date. Today my husband and I went fishing off a bridge on a farm access road. I got the catch of the day. I landed two huge ---- minnows. They were very young and small cat fish. We threw them back on the other side so I wouldn't catch them again, but something kept steeling my worm. I asked my husband if he thought they might be swimming back over to steel my worms. He said, "Maybe". Of course they weren't but, some do learn how to take that bait right off the hook. I had loads of fun, and it was great recreation. Which means to re-create. So I'm now newly recreated because of two itsy bitsy fishies. I love the country.

For all out there in cyber wonderland

2007-05-18T12:23:00.000-05:00

Hello to everyone out there in this cyber wonderland. I decided today to update you on what's going on at my house. Not a lot as far as the house is concerned. It's still very old, and still needs a lot of work. However, I am learning more and more about the history of the house and the family who lived here back in the twenties. I am trying to put together a book based on their lives but it is somewhat slow going. Mainly because I keep stopping to do more research. I've been researching this since prior to the millenium. Ok, so I'm slow. I still write poetry and short stories and hope to show up in print or on some more e-zines.

So, for today, I plan to write some on the book, some on a short story I'm putting together. It's a thriller! I also hope to compose some new poetry for you. This is now the 18th day of May of the year 2007. I wish you all a good day, and God Bless.

Bugging

2007-05-09T21:11:00.000-05:00

Haven't bugged this sight for a while. So I thought I'd better show up.

Old Timer's Disease - Reading

2007-04-23T15:49:00.001-05:00

http://www.mediafire.com/annmf5wzyqm

Oldtimer's Disease

2007-04-23T14:55:00.000-05:00

Old-timers Disease

I peeled the taters in the tub

Put them in the bowl to boil

Placed the pot roast in the hamper

And covered it all with voile

Then I went to the sitting room

To take my morning shower

Beneath a sprinkler hose that stretched

From the spigot near the flowers

Forgot to draw the curtain

Gave the neighborhood a fright

Saw pretty red and yellow lights

And men clad in crispy white

I ran into the kitchen where

I dressed up in my salad.

The lettuce was scant but tastefully worn

With some spinach and herbs for balance.

They swaddled me in a sheet of sorts

Led me to the their pretty striped van

Then off we flew to a weird sort of zoo

And I think that’s where I met you

One of my grandson's

2007-03-24T21:54:00.000-05:00

HE (A new poem)

2006-12-06T22:49:00.000-06:00

HE

by Glenda K. Fralin

I cry into the wind

so no one sees the tears.

I like it that way.

But He won’t let me,

suffer alone.

Like dialing into

my heart’s number.

He calls me to pray

on His name

for the warmth

of his breath

on my spirit.

Like the morning,

I have brightness again.

And I love it that way.

2006-11-04T15:44:00.000-06:00

Checking in

2006-11-04T15:41:00.000-06:00

Hello everyone. I love it when you happen by. Please leave a comment or two. I have been in and out of here but haven't posted for a bit. I've been doing a lot of writing, and now I'm editing,editing,and editing again. I'm going to attempt to upload a photo for this one, I hope it works. If so enjoy.