Aspiring Poet, heartfelt thoughts.I Have Dystonia, bipolar, and an Avid Southern Gospel Music fan

  In the world of Southern Gospel music, few names resonate as deeply as The Nelons. Their harmonies have uplifted countless hearts and souls, bringing joy and encouragement through their music. With the recent release of their final album, "Loving You," we are reminded of the beauty and power of their legacy. As I reflect on their last gift to us, I find myself crafting a haiku to capture the essence of their music and the impact it has had on my life. It goes like this: Final album glows, A testament of love— “Loving You,” a gift, A cherished hymn of praise, Encouragement bestowed. Their voices linger still, Echoes of joy and triumph, As they cross the veil. To sing face to face, With the King in radiant light— They will be missed here. Yet until that day dawns, When we gather once again, Their legacy endures, A melody of the heart. This haiku encapsulates not only the beauty of "Loving You" but also the profound emotional connection we sh

 In the quiet room, Where shadows clung to every wall, I held my precious Hallie toes, As her breath began to still, And in that moment, time seemed to freeze, Leaving only the echo of a heartbeat, And the unbearable weight of loss in my arms. Her spirit, so gentle and pure, took flight, Beyond the pain, beyond the tears, Into the arms of Jesus, Where my hands could no longer reach. My heart shattered, each piece Falling like silent, unspoken prayers, As heaven welcomed her home, And I felt the aching void of her absence. But even in the depths of this grief, A light remains, faint yet steady— The nine days we were blessed to have with her, A fleeting gift, but a precious one. Though those days were far too few, They were filled with love, And for that, we are forever grateful. We are thankful too, that in her brief time, She never knew the harshness of this world, That she was spared from pain, And found her rest in the arms of her Maker, A peace we cling to in our sorrow. In the dark

In this brief sojourn, we know heartache well, A companion that walks in our shadowed wake, Pain’s relentless tide, a ceaseless swell, And in its depths, our fragile spirits quake. We stumble through valleys where light grows dim, Where every step feels heavier than the last, Dreams once bright fade at sorrow’s grim whim, And the echoes of joy become whispers of the past. We falter beneath the burdens we bear, Our hands tremble, our voices crack with grief, Mourning the moments lost to despair, Yearning for solace, however brief. Yet in this crucible of sorrow’s embrace, A song is born, rising from the ache, A melody of hope, a touch of grace, A testament to the strength we cannot forsake. For we are pilgrims on a sacred quest, Strangers wandering through a foreign land, With hearts that long for eternal rest, And eyes set on a city not made by hands. A peculiar people, marked by Heaven’s call, We carry joy like a hidden flame, In the darkest night, when shadows fall, It burns within,

  "Do all things without murmurings and disputings: That ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world;"   — *Philippians 2:14-15   The church is not just a building made of bricks and mortar; it is a living, breathing body of believers united in Christ. Yet, how often do we find ourselves murmuring about the physical aspects of our place of worship? The paint is fading, the seats are uncomfortable, the temperature is never quite right. We complain about the preacher’s style, his choice of words, or even his length of sermons. We find fault with the members, scrutinizing their actions, and questioning their motives. But what do these complaints say about the state of our own hearts? When our focus shifts from the spiritual nourishment that God offers through His Word to the superficial flaws we perceive in the church building or its people, we reveal a deeper issue w

I n the quiet corners of our minds, battles rage that the outside world rarely sees. The silent wars within, where mind and body seem at odds, are often dismissed by those who can’t—or won’t—understand. The stigma surrounding mental illness and conditions like dystonia is a heavy chain that can weigh down even the strongest among us. I recently penned a haiku that captures this experience, and I’d like to share both the poem and the deeper meaning behind it: Silent wars within, Mind and body intertwined— Stigma's heavy chain, They dismiss what they can’t see, Yet the pain cuts deep and true. Eyes that turn away, Whispers deepen hidden scars, Mental storms collide, With Dystonia’s cruel grip, But in His plan, I find peace. Through the darkened path, Where the world denies my truth, I hold tight to faith— Trusting in His perfect will, Guided by His gentle hand. The Battle Inside Living with mental illness is often like walking through a storm that no one else can see. The turmoil wi

  Grief is a strange companion, walking with us through the days when the absence of a loved one feels unbearable. The heartache of missing those who have gone before us can be overwhelming, leaving an emptiness that no earthly comfort can truly fill. Yet, in the midst of this sorrow, there is a profound and unshakeable joy for those of us who know that our loved ones believed the record that God gave of His Son.   As believers, we have a unique hope that sustains us even in our deepest pain. The Apostle John writes in 1 John 5:11-12 , “And this is the record, that God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. He that hath the Son hath life; and he that hath not the Son of God hath not life.” These words remind us that eternal life is not just a distant promise but a present reality for those who are in Christ. Our loved ones who have passed away in the faith are not lost; they are alive in the presence of God, experiencing the fullness of joy that we can only ima

  “He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay.” —Matthew 28:6 “But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” —1 Corinthians 15:57   There is a profound and unmatched joy that wells within the hearts of believers when we contemplate the empty tomb. Our God, the Creator of all, is not confined to the grave—He has risen! This truth is the bedrock of our faith, the cornerstone of our hope, and the source of our eternal joy. “The tomb lies empty, My God is alive, not bound, Risen to deliver. Sins are shattered by His grace— I rejoice, my Savior lives.” These are my words that try to encapsulate the profound mystery and majesty of our faith. We do not serve a lifeless idol or a distant memory; we serve a living, breathing Savior who has triumphed over death. The empty tomb is more than a historical event; it is the manifestation of God’s immeasurable power and His boundless love for us. In Matthew

  "Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me." Envision the doors of your heart swinging wide open, as though welcoming an unexpected Guest—our Lord Jesus Christ. This image invites profound reflection on our readiness to receive Him, and what we might reveal or wish to conceal in His presence. In this moment of openness, Christ knocks gently, seeking entrance into the core of our being. The question arises: Are we prepared to welcome Him into every room of our hearts, or are there areas we prefer to keep hidden? As we open the door, we face the reality of what lies within us. Our readiness to receive Him involves more than just physical preparation. It requires spiritual and emotional openness, confronting our fears, regrets, and unconfessed sins. The unexpected nature of His visit can stir feelings of anxiety and unease, challenging us to examine our inner selves wi

  In the midst of life’s ceaseless trials and unforeseen tribulations, there lies a profound truth that sustains the heart of every believer: our true citizenship is not of this world but of heaven. This divine assurance is the wellspring from which we draw the strength to smile through sorrow and sing in the face of suffering. It is the eternal perspective that lifts our spirits above the transient pains of this mortal life, reminding us that we are but pilgrims journeying toward our eternal home.   The Apostle Paul, a man well-acquainted with suffering, penned these words with a heart full of hope: "For our conversation is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ" (Philippians 3:20). The term "conversation" here speaks of our citizenship, our belonging to a realm far beyond the confines of this earth. In this heavenly kingdom, our lives are hidden with Christ in God, and it is this sacred belonging that imbues our lives with u

As believers, we find ourselves living in a world filled with uncertainty, pain, and brokenness. Yet, as followers of Christ, we are called to live not in despair, but in hope—hope that is rooted in the promises of God. One of the greatest of these promises is the expectation of a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells, and all things are made new. The Apostle John, in the book of Revelation, was given a glimpse of this future reality. He writes, "And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea" (Revelation 21:1). This verse speaks to the complete renewal of creation, where the old order of things—marked by sin, death, and sorrow—will be done away with, and God will establish His perfect kingdom. As Christians, our hope is not in the things of this world, which are temporary and fleeting. Instead, we look forward to the eternal promises of God. The Apostle Peter also echoes this expec

Life has its share of challenges, and there are days when the weight of it all feels unbearable. But through every storm, I've found a constant source of comfort: Southern Gospel music. From the time I was a child, this music has been more than just a genre; it’s been a refuge, a place where my soul finds peace. I was blessed to grow up with the sounds of the Nelons and the Inspirations. Their harmonies filled our home, their messages of hope and faith became the soundtrack of my early years. Southern Gospel wasn't just music; it was a lifeline, a reminder that no matter how tough things got, there was always a reason to keep going. As I've grown, my love for this music has only deepened. The beautiful tones of Lauren Talley, the smooth, reassuring voice of Eric Bennett—they reach into the deepest parts of my heart, soothing wounds I didn’t even know I had. There’s something about the purity and sincerity in their voices that lifts the spirit and reminds me that I’m never a

 "For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast." — Ephesians 2:8-9 When we consider the concept of fairness, we often think about getting what we deserve. Fairness in human terms means that everyone receives exactly what they have earned—nothing more, nothing less. But when we apply this idea to our spiritual lives, the thought of fairness becomes terrifying. The Bible tells us in Romans 3:23, "For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God." If God were to be fair and give us what we deserve, none of us could stand before Him. We would all be condemned to the lake of fire, "where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched" (Mark 9:44). Yet, God, in His infinite mercy, chose not to deal with us according to fairness. Instead, He offers us something far greater—grace. Grace is the unmerited favor of God. It is the gift that we could never earn, no matter

  Kelly Kelly's kindness knew no bounds, A gentle spirit, always there, Helping where she could, Her heart a beacon in the dark, Guiding those in need with care. We celebrate her life today, The faith she lived, the love she gave. Her legacy of kindness stays, A testament to how we should behave. Now in the presence of the King, Her spirit dances free and bright, Where she has always longed to be, Wrapped in everlasting light. Amber Amber's infectious spirit glowed, Her joy a warm embrace for all, Making us strive for Christ-like love, She lifted hearts and never let them fall. Today we celebrate her radiant life, The faith she lived, a shining guide. Her laughter, a song that echoes on, Inspiring us to live with hope and pride. Now standing in the presence of the King, Her soul finds peace in heavenly grace, Where she has always longed to be, Embraced by love in that sacred place. Jason Jason, the consummate family man, A heart entwined with love and

I didn't know Nathan Kistler as well as some of the others, but the impact of our conversation in December still resonates with me. We talked for about an hour and a half, covering everything from the Christian faith to Southern Gospel music. I remember telling him he must be a special man for Amber to choose him, and indeed, he was.   What struck me most about Nathan was his genuine love for people. His passion for lost souls was evident, especially when he spoke about his work with "Hope to the Hill." Nathan wasn’t focused on fixing the "system" but on uniting people through the glorious gospel of Christ. Whether Republican, Democrat, or anything in between, Nathan loved people. He never let himself get caught up in the hatred and rhetoric that are so deeply seated in our country today. Instead, he brought Christ and hope to Capitol Hill, no matter who you were.  Nathan was an example of Christ's love, leaving a legacy of loving God and one another.

  In the world of Gospel music, few names resonate as deeply as Jason Clark's. His extraordinary talent and humble spirit made him a cherished artist and friend. With the ability to write moving songs, produce soulful albums, and arrange spectacular harmonies, Jason set a standard of excellence and devotion that inspired everyone who knew him. One of Jason's most endearing qualities was his humility. Despite his immense talent, he remained approachable and genuine, always finding time to share meaningful conversations at sunset. We often talked on the phone during these peaceful moments, and his love for sunsets was palpable. However, what he loved even more was Christ. His faith was unshakeable, and he set the bar high for serving others with grace and compassion. Jason was the kind of friend you could always count on. Whenever I faced a problem, I knew I could reach out to him, and he would be there with wise words and unwavering support. His faith and kindness left an indeli

Living with illness often feels like navigating a storm without a map. The unpredictability of each day can be overwhelming, making it easy to lose sight of the simple yet profound truth of God's enduring mercy. But in these moments of struggle, I am reminded of the psalm that dwells in my heart—a song of His everlasting kindness and the call to continually praise His Holy Name. God's mercy is like a river, flowing unceasingly, nourishing our weary souls and providing solace in our times of need. His love remains unchanging, a constant presence guiding us through life's uncertainties. In Lamentations 3:22-23, I find comfort: "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness." These words remind me that despite my circumstances, His compassion renews my spirit each day. As His children, we are called to lift our voices in praise, even when it's difficult, to sing of

 When I first met Amber, it was like meeting a bright spark in a world that often felt dim. It was about ten years ago at a concert in Seminole. Amid the music and laughter, our paths crossed, and it didn't take long for our friendly rivalry to surface. I was a staunch Celtics fan, proud of Boston's storied franchise and their legendary players. Amber, on the other hand, was a die-hard Lakers fan, with a special admiration for Kobe Bryant. Our playful debates about which team was superior became a cherished part of our interactions. Despite our differences in basketball loyalties, we shared a mutual respect for each other's passion and dedication. One memorable moment was when I gifted her a limited edition Kobe "Black Mamba" hat. Her eyes lit up with excitement, and I joked that she seemed more thrilled about the hat than about seeing me. But that was Amber—her love for the Lakers and Kobe was infectious, and her enthusiasm was always genuine and uplifting. Amber

 In the world of music and faith, few souls shine as brightly as Kelly Nelon’s did. Her voice was a gift to many, but it was her kindness and unwavering support that left an even deeper imprint on those who had the privilege of knowing her. Today, as I reflect on the profound impact she had on my life, I find myself overwhelmed with gratitude and admiration for the kind of person she was. When I first learned I had dystonia, the diagnosis came with the chilling forecast that my singing days might be numbered. The thought of losing my voice—a cherished part of who I am—was a heavy blow. In those dark moments, Kelly Nelon stepped into my life, not as a distant star but as a beacon of hope and compassion. When I shared my struggle with Kelly, her response was nothing short of extraordinary. Without hesitation, she volunteered to help me, offering her expertise and coaching so I could sing for as long as possible. And she did all this free of charge, driven solely by the kindness of her he

 Life with dystonia is a journey filled with twists and turns, both literally and figuratively. For those of us living with this condition, even the most ordinary activities can feel like monumental tasks. Things many take for granted—like writing, eating, or even walking—can become intricate puzzles to solve each day. Twister is just a game for most people, but for me, it is a way of life. The involuntary twisting and contorting of my muscles is a painful dance that leaves my body exhausted and aching. The internal twisting can feel as if my body is turning against itself, muscles knotting and pulling in directions they’re not supposed to go. The pain can be sharp and unyielding, a relentless reminder of the battle happening within me. This constant struggle makes even the most mundane tasks—such as brushing my teeth or tying my shoes—feel like Herculean feats. Yet, despite these challenges, I’ve discovered the power of perseverance and the importance of a positive attitude. When I ma