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Kia ora! As a migrant writer from Uzbekistan living in Aotearoa for over 12 years, I write to honour the invisible threads between places, languages, and lives. Written fifty years ago, this poem still carries the spirit of its time, a quiet resilience, a journey through tempests, and the laughter of birds in flight. Like the shuttle itself, it has travelled across decades to find a place of rest. Let it be a lighthouse for anyone still searching for their own safe harbour. Mā te rangi, mā te whenua, ka hoki ngā kupu. (Through sky and land, the words return in Māori language). Wooden Shuttle Across the ocean's sleepy grin, A wooden shuttle spins within. Through storm and tempest, wind and wave, It sails in search of something brave. The sea, a frowning endless ring, Laughed at this wooden, fragile thing. But on it bobbed, the waves its dance, Its voyage owed not just to chance. Perched upon by birds in flight, They gathered 'round from left and right, Chirping tales from distant lands, Mocking waves as rivals to the sands. “Oh, gather round,” the seagulls yell, “We'll leave our mark, a tale to tell!” The shuttle sways, it moves along, Their quarrels humming through its song. By dawn their voices meet the light, Assured that all will be alright. The king of seas, the storm's grand rage, The shuttle bows and takes the stage. At night, the moon in muted grace, Gazes on through drifting lace. This journey now has lasted long, Endless waters, silent song. The lonely shuttle, old and wise, Bears its tales beneath the skies. One day, revealed, a cliff appears, A rocky face through salt and years. The winds conspire, pull away, But the cliff stands firm “Not today!” Still on it floats through silver foam, A tiny island carving home. Adrift, like us, I might surmise, With hopes to reach the shore, the prize. Its rudder cuts the water's glass, Reflecting days long gone and past. The birds return, they know the plan: To spread the tale of this wide span. Despite the sea's loud, jealous roar, The shuttle lives to glide once more. It spins and laughs like life itself, A weathered book upon love's shelf. With hair of cloud and beard of mist, The sea now knows it can't resist. This wooden thrall, gypsy of gales, The sea's own bard with sailing tales. And so, it dances far away, It laughs, it sways, it has its say. A tale of wander, deep and wide, The wooden soul, the ocean's pride. Through laughter, quarrels, storms, and moon, The world's own waltz-bard sings its tune. A thousand verses won't suffice, This shuttle's song is beyond all price. May this little wooden soul whisper something true to you, too. Ngā mihi nui, thank you for reading.

“She's sick, surrounded by hypocrites, her life is a tragedy.” “A tragedy? Spare me. Does she even have a heart?” “Right — and only you do...” The women spoke loudly in the crowded bus, oblivious to everyone else. The passengers looked away, each hiding behind their own indifference. I glanced at them, trying to escape my spiralling thoughts. Rain trickled down the window. Grey coats, grey faces. A dreary world soaked in hopelessness. It had been a month since I shut down my company, a draining and disappointing grind that barely paid the bills. I was exhausted from doing work I didn't love. Trapped in a life that felt like a dead end. I felt more ghost than person, each day blurring into the next, numbed by regret and fatigue. “Don't crowd at the front!” called the conductor. “Next stop: Railway Station.” As the bus slowed, a man at the back suddenly shouted, “Open Sesame!” What a charming soul, I thought, and smiled. Open Sesame. The magic phrase that unlocks the cave of treasures. Who knows what's waiting just around the corner? What surprise this gloomy April day might bring? Yes. I would carry with me that phrase. My personal spell. And of course, I would go to Shanghai. To hell with fear. I was going. A flicker of light warmed my chest. The fog inside me began to lift. “Achoo!” sneezed a little boy from the front seat. Thank you, little one, for the blessing. I got off the bus early and walked home through the drizzle. With trembling fingers, I turned on my computer and wrote to Trevor Wilson: “Yes. I'm coming.” Trevor was a New Zealander, a university lecturer teaching English as a second language in China. We had met through an online forum connected to my now-defunct training company. We communicated through Google Translate, as I spoke no English just the remnants of the German I had learned at school. He had offered to pay for my travel and invited me to visit. I wasn't sure... until that moment. Something unseen was pulling me east. In my imagination, Shanghai shimmered with Chinese gondolas, fragrant gardens, and birds singing freedom songs in vibrant colours. The air smelled of mandarins and mangoes. I could almost hear the bamboo flutes. Trevor booked me into the Howard Johnson hotel, an elegant, sunlit place where I felt like a visiting queen. The lobby smelled of citrus and wood. The sheets in my room whispered with freshness. Each evening, we dined somewhere new. Trevor's eyes sparkled with gentle mischief as he introduced me to dishes I couldn't pronounce, patiently repeating their names until I could say them with confidence. He was kind and generous, romantic in ways I hadn't expected. The city stunned me. Skyscrapers and neon nights loomed above unfamiliar streets, yet something tugged at me. It was as if I had lived here before, left, and now, somehow, was finding my way back—to this city, to Trevor, to myself. English was my only obstacle. Trevor helped me through it. His encouragement dissolved my fear. I spoke with clumsy courage, and to my surprise, people listened. I began to feel I belonged. At the hotel, I met a Japanese receptionist Emiko, graceful, and bright. She carried the patient grace of someone who believed that every conversation, no matter how halting, was a small bridge across the world. Warmly, she encouraged me to visit Buddhist temples and shop for silk and spices in the old town. There was something familiar about her — the eyes, the gestures, the quiet way her smile lingered. Then it came to me: Julia Roberts. It amazed me how someone from a different world could resemble the American Cinderella from Pretty Woman. I found excuses to talk to her. Emiko patiently corrected my English and repeated difficult expressions. One day she asked, “What's your native language?” “Russian, like most Soviet people, regardless of ethnicity,” I replied. She smiled, intrigued. The next morning, my hotel phone rang. I picked it up. A bright voice with a strong accent said, in Russian, “Good morning, madam! Are you awake?” It was Emiko, my Julia Roberts. She stretched every syllable like a singer, filling me with joy and sending me into helpless laughter. In that moment, the once-distant world opened its arms. And it spoke my language. Now, more than twenty years have passed. I have become an author, writing historical novels and nonfiction books — in English. Recently, I published my first book on Amazon — a little guide to personal growth, illustrated with my own drawings. And I am writing this story with heartfelt gratitude and tender memory of that Open Sesame moment…for my husband Trevor, although he won't be able to read these lines while he is still alive. His love was the first page of the story I was meant to write. Because the magic of that day lives on—in my words, my journey, and in the love that opened every door. Some treasures, once found, remain forever open.

Walls are like the background music of a room — we often don't notice them until they're out of tune. A few months ago, I realized my home needed more warmth, more life… but I didn't want to repaint everything or renovate from scratch. That's when I started looking into wallpaper options. I had no idea how much was possible — from soft neutrals to bold prints, even textured panels and wooden styles. Living in a city that appreciates design, I quickly noticed how popular Wallpaper Dubai options had become. After browsing through a few local collections, I came across Decorio. What stood out to me wasn't just their product range, but how easy they made everything. No complicated decisions, no confusing catalogs — just simple help and beautiful designs that fit my space perfectly. We added a grey marble wallpaper in the lounge that completely changed the mood. In my daughter's room, the playful patterns brought color and energy. Even the kitchen got a touch of charm with a tile-style wallpaper — who knew it could look so chic without actual tiles? I'm not usually the type to share home decor tips, but this change made such a big difference that I had to write about it. If you're thinking of updating your home without breaking walls (or the bank), I genuinely think wallpaper is worth exploring. It's one of the easiest ways I've found to make a space feel like your own. You can explore more at https://decorio.ae

In the world of known and unknown, a day can't be counted without a single dream flight; A girl there with hope and little steps tries to seek wisdom and light. Nature gives us the best lesson Without notifying us of the reason, If one can find the actual cause Everything in life will make a good job. From waking up in the morning she glimpses the sun Always regular and never miss the fun, From her mother, she learns to be kind Evil and mischief should not be in her mind, Her father, an engineer wise and bright Showed her wonders of logic and light, He helped her to figure out her mind She learned how her brain how was designed. Seeing her garden blooming and smiling Make her spirit jump and twirling, Mango trees, rooted in deep and strong Teach her, where she belongs, Chirping birds made her find her tune Their melody has painted a stunning afternoon, Squirrel taught her amusement and cheer Birds taught her to spread her wings without fear. Sky taught her to have a big heart It is never too late for a fresh new start, Soil taught her to make her base strong Expressing her feeling is never wrong. She learned to listen, understand others, and share And lend a hand, showing she truly cares, The river of time keeps flowing It shows that there is no time for waste, The present will turn into past Enjoy it as it is your last, Through the Mangrove forest 1, she wandered wide Where the wise owls perched, their knowledge and guide, By climbing the Tazing Dong 2 she learned to push herself for the best Which helped her never give up on a sudden test. Worker ants took her boredom away A tireless work to assemble a future day by day, She found her glow to shine in the darkest night Forgiving others is better than a fight, Moon's peaceful glow is painting the sky with grace Told tales of peace and serenity to embrace, She likes to calm her mind with the sound of rain A perfect partner is a cup of chai 3. Stormy nights when the thunder roared and the lighting danced Made her fearless to take every chance, From the busiest city, she set up her inspiration Working hard just to make her creation, She explored her passion without any hesitation Finding her way has no expiration, Each day she takes lessons from a profession She knows knowledge is the key to her liberation. Like farmers plant seeds in the soil Teacher plant knowledge to not make the mind a foil, They help by teaching young mind They are after our parents in our respect line, One can never conceal the truth Lawyers teach, speaking the truth is a ripe fruit, Her grandfather, a freedom fighter teaches her to fight When it comes to rights, Artist Missy taught her how to print a picture Painting can be a mood fixer. By working hard one can go to the moon Achieving Smart Bangladesh is going to be very soon, Farmers grow crops full of patience Success cannot be seen if you are impatience, Police catch the criminals to keep us safe So we can have better days. To show the world current news Journalists work without any excuse, Brother like Tom needs to be everywhere So anyone can get help anywhere, He works for those who are in demand, the poor and the sick The one who has kept back, for one has been kicked, Athlete taught her to break her limit Create a record of every single minute, From next door firefighter, she learned about fear and sacrifice Fear didn't hold her back tonight, They fight for our future and our generation So there can be no more separation, Sacrificing own rest is normal When it comes to saving a life, The doctor gave her every minute So anyone don't lose their inner spirit, They are our only hope And helps us to understand how to cope. She should follow her dreams wherever she goes Let her shine according to her inner glow, She learned to adapt, to go with the flow Navigating life's currents, wherever they'd bestow, It is normal to learn early or late Do the right so you don't end up with a bad fate, It is funny everything was a lesson To help us all to find our passion. Learning from nature and its surrounding is free To learn you don't need to achieve a degree, Look around and feel the world One can't describe its morals in words, Age is just a number When it comes to becoming a moral learner, So let us not be held by our age When it is judged by the calendar page, Let's learn a lesson with an open and pure heart So society can shine by our parts, Let's all sing-song of humanity And follow everything that Mother Nature has taught.

When I noticed the illuminated gas light, I knew it was too late-I would never make it to the next big town, 22 miles away. Then, like a mirage, an old building with the words GAS/FOOD painted on its side appeared. Unfortunately, I quickly realized that there was definitely no gas in the pumps, and that there probably hadn't been for years. I looked around helplessly, allowing the worry train in my mind to run at full speed. What would become of a Black Jewish woman, alone and stranded in the boonies of a red state? I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, begging to fall. Suddenly, I heard the sound of laughter and followed it to a set of tall wooden doors. The echo of collective chortles, chuckles, and hee-has derailed my thoughts long enough for me to make a move, and I wrapped my hand around the cold metal moose-head door handle. The antlers made it so my fingers spread into an awkward claw. I pulled one of the doors open, and behind its heavy mass sat seven white strangers and a white bartender. My breath felt caught in my chest and butterflies fluttered up from my stomach into my throat, choking me. “Hi. Um, can y'all tell me where the gas station is?” My voice came out shaky and those damn tears were still fighting against me. A tall, thin man with shoulder-length grey hair, a thick mustache, and a familiar face stood, looked me up and down, and said, “You're shit outta luck in this town.” The tears finally won their battle and marched right out of my eyes and down my cheeks like hot soldiers pumped up with the emotions of victory and the price paid for it. "Don't worry, come on now. Don't you worry. Is your gas light on?” “Yes,” I replied, feeling foolish with my red eyes and puffy lips, “and I don't know how long but I've driven at least 20 miles since I noticed it.” A blonde woman, the only other woman in the bar besides the plump bartender looking on from behind the old wooden counter with an air of indifference about her, smiled at me. “Oh, I bet you could make it sweetie! I almost run out of gas all the time, but now I know exactly how far I can go once that light turns on!” She broke into a laugh that nobody joined. The tears incessantly fell from my face and were beginning to slide down my neck, which was already sticky with sweat. “I really don't think I can make it, I'm scared I'll get stuck.” The tall man still seemed to be analyzing me as he said, “I really think you'll be fine. Just go on ahead and try—" “I'll go get you some gas.” We all turned our heads toward the low, raspy voice. A man who had been sitting silent in the corner, wearing a white t-shirt and khaki pants stood and pulled his keys out of his pocket. "Be right back, y'all.” He pushed open the door and sunlight rushed into the room, brightening our faces. It slammed behind him with a thud and we were left with our jaws open. A younger man with a large body broke the silence. "So what the hell is a girl like you doing in lil' ol' Pringle, South Dakota?” I wiped the tears from my face and told them about my solo road trip. The large man seemed amused by my response: “Well honey, you sure ain't home in California anymore! You in Trump country now!” I laughed nervously. “Oh, hush Jimmy!” The blonde woman playfully slapped his arm. “What now, darlin'? I'm just tellin' her like it is!” And then to me, “You don't believe in this global warming bullshit now do ya?” The woman slapped him again, harder. “Don't listen to my husband, he's just giving you a hard time.” “It's okay,” I told them, "I wanted to travel this country because it's easy to come up with ideas about people who think differently than me, when I really don't know them at all.” The blonde woman liked that a lot and smiled at me, nodding her head in agreement. “So," I asked, "is this where Pringles chips were invented?” The people laughed and the air felt lighter. We carried on a cheerful conversation, ending abruptly when the door swung open to reveal the silhouette of the khaki man holding a gas can, and sunlight once again spilled over our faces. The blonde woman followed as I led him to my car. She was beautiful, with a face so warm; she could have been one of my grade school teachers. As the man poured gas into my tank, I dug through my backpack for a ten dollar bill I remembered tucking away earlier that morning. “Thank you so much, can I give you some money for all of this?” “No.” He tightened the gas cap and snapped the little door shut. “Alright, this should get you to town. Keep an eye on your tank now, ya hear?” “Yes sir, thank you, I will.” Pulling away, it struck me that I'd had a transformative experience. My gas light illuminated, and it brightened my perspective on humanity.

Art is a reflection of our inner thoughts. I know what I felt when I made this, but what does it make you feel?

GANGADHARA RAO IRLAPATI's I'm, An unfortunate Indian scientist subjected to negligence,racism,discrimination despite have done over a 1000 researches&studies.But all my researches were ignored&darkned. You can get my researches either by searching my name GANGADHARA RAO IRLAPATI in all websites or by sending your email to my email id girlapati@aol.com. I am now making my life's last journey with hopelessness and sickness (severe medical complications)and disregard&despair. Under the aforesaid circumstances, I urge the world scientists that kindly publicize&recognize me as the Originator of Global Monsoon Time Scales&National Geoscope Projects by making references in your research papers&by postings on social media. GANGADHARA RAO IRLAPATI

“Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom”, Aristotle. This is the quote I keep very close to my heart. Being an introvert was never easy for me, as a kid who knew very little about the outside world, going to a completely different place to study was a lot more challenging than I thought. After finishing high school, I had to decide for myself, and that decision could change my entire life. I had two options, whether to stay in Saudi Arabia where I completed most of my education or to come to Pakistan and stay in a dormitory with hundreds of different girls. The best option I could think of at that time was to stay with my parents and in the comfort of my home where I would feel safe and protected, but my parents advised me to choose the other option that was out of my comfort zone because they wanted me to learn and grow from my experiences. As an introvert, this situation was daunting and nerve-racking. Little did I know before coming to Pakistan, that this type of personality is not only feeling shy and uncomfortable around others, but it also includes anxiety and constant negative thoughts. For me having a quiet and shy personality was like a monster sitting inside me and telling me that I'm not capable of facing demanding situations. I wasn't good with giving an introduction and all from the beginning, and whenever I was told to introduce myself I would just tell a made-up story that wasn't even true to portray how interesting I am. We all are expected to introduce ourselves on the first day of university. It's a norm that is followed everywhere. One after another everybody in my class came up to the stage and gave a brief introduction about themselves, everyone seemed pretty perfect with it, confident and above all they knew themselves, at least a little bit if not completely. Later I was called on the stage and it was my time for an introduction. When I went up to the podium, my heart was racing like crazy, and my palms were all sweaty, I couldn't breathe properly. It was not only because of my introvert personality and stage fright; this time, I really wanted to say something that isn't false and deception but rather I wanted to sketch a true image of my personality. With all the other feelings of uneasiness rushing through my body, for the very first time in my life, I felt utterly lost and unaware. I did not know how to start and where to start, what I like, what I don't like, what are my strengths and weaknesses. It was all foreign to me. I never felt that way before. There was only one thing I was sure of, and that was my introvert personality which I despised. Stuttering and fumbling, I somehow managed to overcome the awkwardness and just as any other time lied about myself. That day turned my life upside down; I went on a quest for the search of my true self. I read many books and articles on self-discovery, watched YouTube videos which explained how you could uncover yourself, stuffed my head with useless knowledge, and after spending a lot of time looking for an answer I finally gave up. It never occurred to me that self-discovery is not something that can be found in books and motivational videos; instead, it is more of an experience of your life and the decisions you make along the way. Tired of searching and dwelling, I started to lose hope. I fell under a dark pit of self-doubt and insecurity. The first year at university was like a nightmare. However, it passed, and nonetheless, I made some good memories As I grew older and with all the experiences I had gained in my life, I eventually began to understand myself better. The decisions I made throughout my life, bad or good, I realized that those decisions carve my personality and tell me who I am. With patients and courage to actually accept my flaws, I embarked a journey of reflection and observation. From the self-examination, I have come to understand what my personality holds and what values I believe in, and also how being an introvert is not something to be ashamed of; instead, it is something to cherish. I felt matured. It made me realize that being desperate to find an answer never works, you have to unleash yourself and let your inner self flow. Take difficult challenges and learn from them, By doing so, you will understand your abilities, character and feelings in a much better way. coming to Pakistan was a difficult challenge to me but I have learned amazing things by living an independent life. I believe finding yourself is a never-ending journey, and I'm not sure even a full life is enough time to figure everything about ourselves. It's a destination with lots of different directions, and you have to choose the one that you feel comfortable in. There is still so much about me that I'm unaware of, and every day I learn something new about myself and I thrive to learn more every day because as Aristotle said "knowing yourself is the begging of all wisdom".

I just read a story about a man who was incarcerated. Every night as he lay awake thinking of the horrible place he was in, he'd hear the whistle of a train in the far distance and wonder where that train was going. Here I am, walking down a random street in Queens and see this track. I am unsure of what train runs on it and don't believe I have an idea of where it goes but I stand here as a native of this city and wonder why I don't know. We all have heard the whistle of our own personal train at one point or another in our lives and the majority of us have never bothered to discover it's path. Most of us won't ... simply because, most of us don't have it in us to find out. But the man in the story did. I admire that. Life is a very difficult journey to tread but we all must believe that where ever we are, at any given point in time, there is a whistle being blown ... we could either just hear it for the rest of our lives or actually figure out where it's going. I heard my whistle in the middle of the night too. It told me to start writing. Where ever my words take me is where I'm supposed to go because that's where my train was always headed. I don't call myself a writer. I don't even know the rules of this game ... but I've never not played anything in life because I didn't know how. I'll learn along the way. I just know that if I am to be called a writer, one day, ... I'd best sit down and just start writing ... about, anything. So, here I am.

What Do We Teach By Our Words & Actions Sometimes, I wonder where the village went. We are not neighbors watching out for one another. Some say Marriage isn't important. So we teach our children commitment and vows (a covenant) to one another isn't important. Still others believe treating each other with respect is not important. So we teach our children disrespect and treating others in a demeaning manner is acceptable. Treating people fairly is not important. We teach our children one is better than the other. When we chose to neglect the teachings or follow what God has put into place, we teach our children. God is not important. A six year old asked her mother if she went to church. Her mom told her that she didn't believe that. The child said you need to love God, know your minister and love Jesus. The mother said that she was glad the child believed it but mom didn't believe it and didn't need it. The child finally told her mother, "I'll pray for you." Mother said she had to hang up and go to work. We are all in need of the faith of this 6yr old child. When you do what you want to do, because if it feels good, do it, without regard for the teachings of a merciful and gracious Father, the village and the children do not learn what true and everlasting love is. Be in prayer for this child's parents. (True story/phone call) Father, for the men and women who chose the worldly approach of "just do it", and not your teachings, I ask that you draw them to yourself. Surround the children with people in their lives that they will learn about your love and the village will grow stronger. I pray for the marriages that are strong to gain more strength in faith. The marriages that are struggling, they would come to you, together, as they refocus as they grow in love, commitment and strength in You. A Journey Through Grace By An Ordinary Woman- Cheryl

Living As A Follower Of Christ Now that I've looked within myself, how I deal with others. You see, it doesn't concern me how you align with Jesus, as much as it does how I measure up. Using a plum line according to the words and life of Christ, who I am a follower, is my goal. I will never completely accomplish this goal until I am in heaven with him. That does not deter my desire to become more like him daily. I first had to go to the Word that was given to me, and you, as a guide to live by. A biblical gps to direct our path in our/my daily walk. Proverbs 6:16-19 lists seven things which are also abominations: "haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are swift in running to mischief, a false witness who utters lies, and one who spreads strife among brothers." We also know that adultery, fornication, put to death a medium or spiritualists. We all have heard used not to lay with man as a woman, but we forget the rest of the verses. You can't marry or lay with or marry a family member. Also gluttony is considered sin, most people choose to focus on one or two, probably the sin, they think, they are not committing. Paul wrote, “You, then, why do you judge your brother or sister? Or why do you treat them with contempt? For we will all stand before God's judgment seat… So then, each of us will give an account of ourselves to God. Therefore let us stop passing judgment on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in the way of a brother or sister” (Romans 14:10, 12, 13). We are not to judge the heart of a person(as it pertains to salvation). We can not judge or look inwardly to determine the salvation of another. If you ask and they say they are saved, then who are you to say they are not. (That would be judging their salvation.) they might not show it, they could be working it out wit God. They don't have to pass your test, only his. Because one doesn't fall into your category of what a saved person looks like, doesn't mean they do not have a close relationship that includes salvation with Jesus. Be careful how you judge another. Judge not lest you be judged. (How many times have I heard that) What you can look at, is the fruit of a person. Their actions toward others. Is love their primary factor when dealing with others. You can discern the walk by the deeds. You tell a child to clean up their room, but your room is never clean. The child begins to notice what you do, while telling them something different. Be aware of your deeds. Someone is watching. Do not be a stumbling block to anyone around you. If they do not eat pork because of religious reasons, don't try to feed them pork. How are you going to love them if your first deed is antagonist. You can share the gospel through love and respect far more than hate or put downs. You do not know the path they had to walk (or chose) in their journey. You do not know the reasons behind the twists and turns. Do not judge what you do not know. Pregnancy, depression, prisoners, addict, living life differently than you. All these things are or could be more complicated than you know. The paths may not have been altogether their choice, but choices of others in their lives as well. Don't judge them into hell because of what you see. If you do, what does that say about you. They may be saved but will not go to church to be fed because of how the good Christian treats them. A follower of Christ will pray with them and for them. A follower of Christ will love them. God will take care of the rest. That is not your job. The inward transformation can be shown by your outward actions. Are you living a life as a “Good Christian” or are you loving them unto salvation. Are you inviting them to gather at a service, that tells of love and salvation or are you shoving them into a life to be lived alone and lost. I can love you and disagree with you. I don't agree with my kids always and they, in turn, do not always agree with me. They have opened my eyes, rethink a few things, and have an open heart of love for many. I have lived a life outside a bubble, in the real world. I am however, not of this world but set apart. I have a love for Christ that allows me to love all of his children. I am a woman of faith. I am a follower of Christ!! A Journey Through Grace By An Ordinary Woman- Cheryl

Judgement of Actions People assume a lot about others, without knowing where they've been or what they have endured in their life. Some get over zealous about someone or something if they believe they might be depressed or in pain of some kind or even just lonesome. They may have seen deep depression or lonesomeness in someone they loved or in themselves. Some may have even know someone who has committed suicide because of it. Maybe could be or mean a lot of different things. Until you know, don't judge, don't assume, don't patronize. Get to know them. Ask about their life. Find out what makes them who they are. Be a friend! We are all on life's journey. Your discovery may help someone else in theirs. A Journey Through Grace By An Ordinary Woman- Cheryl

Judgement of Character Remember the girl who became pregnant way back in school? She is grown now and so is her child. Do you recall how you gossiped and laughed as she walked by you in the hall? Did you ever wonder why she had such a sad countenance and rarely smiled? Did you care? The names you gave her, she heard. The words that cut like a knife, she felt. The love and friendship she desperately needed, she never found. You went about your life without a second thought, except to think of something more to say about her clothes, her character, or plain unassuming look. She wasn't really anybody. She was simply someone to make comments about while you felt better about yourself. Why, because you weren't her. She is grown now. She added drugs to her daily routine as she lived with the shame, the words or looks of disgust concerning her character. She was broken because no one asked about her life. She is still broken. No one cared how she was doing or why she was so sad. No one asked to be a friend with a hand held out in love. No one, because they were glad, they weren't her. Had you asked, you would have know. She was raped, repeatedly. She was sexually molested daily by a family member. The baby, the pregnancy was a result of that abuse. The child was born and she did not know how to be a parent, because she was not whole. She was only a part of what she could have been. No help, no support, just condemnation of her character. They say kids can be cruel and they can. Who taught them to be that way? What do they hear at home to repeat or express such things to another. When you are condemning the character of another, what does that say about yours? A Journey Through Grace By An Ordinary Woman- Cheryl

Terminal In Faith January 14, 2014 Sorrow looks back Worry looks around Faith looks up (On a church board-Vancleave) Many times sorrow goes with regrets. We should have, could have, meant to moments that we intended to spend more time with, be kinder to, listen more someone we cared about. Worry doesn't do anything to change the circumstances, just changed you. Health, attitude and wasted time best spent doing something productive, like praying. Faith is a release from all of this. It doesn't mean life will be perfectly situated the way we want it. We are not perfect. It simply means, faith will carry us through while a merciful and loving God full of grace will perfect us through the difficult times. He will always do what is best in each situation. I know full well how hard it is to say "Lord your will and your way be done. Walk me through it and carry me when I need it." I know, because I prayed it and two weeks later he allowed my husband to be diagnosed with terminal cancer. My family was broken, my heart was saddened and my faith sustained me. I went through the steps of sorrow and worry and then my sweet husband said, “why worry, it won't change a thing. We will never say goodbye. Someday "see you later". His faith strengthened my faith. That is what sustains us now, our faith. We don't know why things happen the way they do but we know the almighty God who holds and sustains us as by faith we look up. We pray for you the peace and faith that only through the saving grace of the Father as in obedience the Son took your place and mine. My family is mended we learned what was important, love for the Father and each other. (Yes terminal cancer but he is still here , 16 years later) we are all terminal, it's where are you going to spend your eternity that really matters. Update: Our sweet, loving man passed from this world to his heavenly reward and perfect healing on October 17, 2016. Surrounded by the love of his family. Taken by his angels to his Heavenly Father, who loved him more than we did. By faith. A Journey Through Grace By An Ordinary Woman--Cheryl