poems.

w a s t e l a n d.

For days I’d been living in a wasteland.My heart was tired. My spirit was spent. I had wandered from the refuge of the promised landand I was dying of thirst. God looked down on me with his arms crossed.“My child, aren’t you tired of living this way?Aren’t you ready to come home?” But I refused …

posts.

The Right to Life.

My heart is heavy as I sit here to write. I wasn’t exactly sure what I’d post this week; I was thinking about maybe sharing a bit of poetry, or tips about surviving the winter blues- something a little lighter and different than the content I’ve written about so far. But then Wednesday happened. And …