Spiritual Journeys |
Promise |
oh2beme Member
since 2000-07-24
Posts 215NV USA |
Promise I made a solemn promise to my father up above, This almighty, heavenly spirit who’s blessed me with his love. Always I’d remember where my happiness begins, And give him thanks, every day, for taking on my sins. I’d try to live his wishes, being kind in every way, And hold a conversation with him each and every day. Not to turn my nose up, but to use a smile instead, And every night before I sleep, I’d bow my weary head. Thanking him for my blessings and the trials even so, While I would encounter them, I’d wonder where I’m to go. Then right before I’d close my eyes, finally to rest, A peaceful feeling in my heart just knowing I am blessed. For I am one of God’s children, heeding to his word, I know that my father loves me and my prayers are always heard. |
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© Copyright 2002 Debbie L. Carr - All Rights Reserved | |||
Lone Wolf Member Ascendant
since 2000-03-16
Posts 5842Lansing, MI USA |
Beautifully done. I like the way this reads . . . nice and easy. All writing comes |
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Mistletoe Angel
since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816Portland, Oregon |
BRAVO!!! Yes, yes, God loves you so very much for you are a blessed daughter of him as all of us are sons and daughters of Him and His love will never fail you, for you belong to Him and in Him you will find the light and warth to let your spirit sing forever! (kiss on cheek) This is gorgeous, sweet friend, God Bless You, we all love you so much! You have such a beautiful heart, sweet Debbie, thank you for sharing! May love and light always shine upon you! Love, Noah Eaton "Underneath your clothes there's an endless story..." |
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Joyce Johnson
since 2001-03-10
Posts 9912Washington State |
Yes you are very at ease with your spiritual side in this prayer. joyce |
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Marge Tindal
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
Oh2BeMe~ 'I know that my father loves me and my prayers are always heard.' This thought reaches out and touches me today~ Thank you for sharing~ *Hugs* ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ |
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