A man's daughter had asked the local minister to come and pray with her father. When the minister arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows. An empty chair sat beside his bed. The minister assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit. 'I guess you were expecting me,' he said.

'No, who are you?' said the father.

The minister told him his name and then remarked, 'I saw the empty chair and I figured you knew I was going to show up.'

'Oh yeah, the chair,' said the bedridden man. 'Would you mind closing the door?'

Puzzled, the minister shut the door.

'I have never told anyone this, not even my daughter,' said the man. But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church, I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it went right over my head. I abandoned any attempt at prayer,' the old man continued, 'until one day four years ago, my

best friend said to me, 'Johnny, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here is what I suggest. 'Sit down in a chair; place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It’s not spooky because he promised, 'I will be with you always'. 'Then just speak to him in the same way you're doing with me right now.'

'So, I tried it and I've liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I'm careful though, if my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she'd either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm.'

The minister was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old man to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, anointed him with oil, and returned to the church. Two nights later the daughter called to tell the minister that her daddy had died that afternoon.

Did he die in peace?' he asked.

Yes, when I left the house about two o'clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me he loved me and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him. But there was something strange about his death. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on the chair beside the bed. What do you make of that?'

The minister wiped a tear from his eye and said, 'I wish we could all go like that.'

***

Thought this was just too nice not to share. Sorry I haven't been around. Life knocks us down and seldom asks us nor does it like helping us back up. But, that is what is supposed to make us strong I am told.

God Bless!!

HUGS

I'm not a writer
I'm not an artist,
I am a shadow,
I am a whisper,
I do not walk,
I do not lay down.
I am not wise,
I am not stupid.
I drift,
but do not move.
I speak,
but no on listens,
or they do not hear.
I see all,
but know nothing.
My mind reaches far,
but goes nowhere.
I hear all,
but again,
I know nothing.
I have a gift to offer,
but none desire it.
I am not a writer,
I am not an artist,
but I dream.

by Dallas Sieck

God Bless you all.

Okay, another funny from my mom, but I have to warn you, be seated and your really might want to be close to a bathroom, several people tell me they had to go more than once. Hand it to my mom to find something like this. LOL

Have a wonderful weekend everyone!!

~Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain~
For those of you who wax, you will understand fully and those who don't will
never make this mistake.  Better go pee before you read this.  This by far is
one of the funniest things I have ever read. ~ This is why I shave!!   Hope
to put a smile on your face:  Hair Removal..
(I don't have a clue who wrote this, but WHAT A RIOT!)
All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy,
painless removal - the Epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax.
Read on..
My night began as any other normal weeknight.  Come home, fix dinner, and
play with the kids.  I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my
mind for the next few hours:
'Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet.'  So I
headed to the site of my demise:  the bathroom.
It was one of those 'cold wax' kits.  No melting a clump of hot wax, you just
rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart
and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right
off.
No muss, no fuss.  How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am
mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out.  Its two strips facing each other stuck
together.  Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out
the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees.
('Cold wax,' yeah.. Right!)  I lay the strip across my thigh.  Hold the skin
around it tight and pull.  IT WORKS!
Ok, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad.  I can do this!
Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body
hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.
With my next wax strip I move north.  After checking on the kids, I sneak
back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship.  I drop
my panties and place one foot on the toilet.  Using the same procedure, I
apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the
right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down the inside of my butt cheek (it
*was* a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself.... RRRRRRIIIIIIPPPPPP!
I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!!.....OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!!!
Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip.
CRAP!  Another deep breath and RIPP! Everything is spinning and spotted.  I
think I may pass out..must stay conscious.. must stay conscious.
Do I hear crashing drums???? Breathe, breathe .OK, back to normal.  I want to
see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain,
with my hairy pelt sticking to it.  I want to revel in the glory that is my
triumph over body hair.  I hold up the strip.  There's no hair on it.  Where
is the hair???  WHERE IS THE WAX????
Slyly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet.  I see the hair.
The hair that should be on the strip.. It's not!!  I touch.  I am touching
wax.
I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now
covered in cold wax and matted hair.  Then I make the next BIG mistake...
remember my foot is still propped upon the toilet? I know I need to do
something. So I put my foot down.
Sealed shut!  My butt is sealed shut.  Sealed shut!
I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do next and
think to myself 'Please don't let me get the urge to poop.  My head may pop
off!'   What can I do to melt the wax?
Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!!!!  I'll run the hottest water I can stand
into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should
melt and I can gently wipe it off, right????  *WRONG!!!!!!!*
I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture
prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.  
Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is
having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub..in
scalding hot water.  Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.
So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of t he tub as though I had cemented myself
to the porcelain!!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago
to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!
I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of
how to get me undone.  It's a very good conversation starter 'So, my butt and
hoo-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!'
There is a slight pause.  She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but
she does try to hide her laughter from me.  She wants to know exactly where
the wax is located, 'are we talking cheeks or hole or hoo-ha?'
She's laughing out loud by now... I can hear her. I give her the rundown and
she suggests I call the number on the side of the box.
YEAH!!!! RIGHT!!!!  I should be the joke of someone else's night.
While we go through the various solutions, I resort to trying to scrape the
wax off with a razor.  Nothing feels better than having your girlie goodies
covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then
dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!!!
By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm
pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this
event.
My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace..the
lotion they give you to remove the excess wax.  What do I really have to lose
at this point?  I rub some on and OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!
The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my friend.
Its sooo painful, but I really don't care.  'IT WORKS!!!!  It works!!!!'
I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up.  I successfully

remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and
despair..THE HAIR IS STILL THERE..ALL OF IT!
So I recklessly shave it off.  Heck, I'm numb by now.  Nothing hurts. I could
have amputated my own leg at this point.
Next week I'm going to try hair color!
________________________________

What Blesses your sleep my children,

what sweetens your dreams?

Where do you wander in your nightly walks,

where do you dwell?

Angels sing me to sleep,

God whispers sweet dreams,

the world tucks me in at night and the world rouses me

with the morning light.

Birds sing to greet the new day and me,

as the angels sing to me to lead me

along the dream highway.

I thank God for these sweet mercies,

they keep all bad things at bay.

May they too bless all of you,

my dear and wonderful friends,

may angels sing you to sleep

and God whisper sweet dreams.

Good night to those whose day has ended

and good day to those whose day

has just begun,

may you all be equally blessed.

by Dallas Sieck

HUGS

Something that popped into my mind and I wondered about. Have you ever thought that perhaps we are here for the purpose of entertaining God only and all this silly running around and all the fussing and worrying is for nothing? If so there must be plenty of times we make Him roar with laughter and times we simply make Him roar.

Another thought filled me lately in part because of the book I wrote and the next I am writing and a book I read. Actually, I have wondered about this for a much longer time, just never bothered saying anything about it.

"Circumstances are not as we perceive them to be and to assume to know the mind of God is presumptuous for humanity yet he attempts it every day. It is not for us to know the whys behind what God does or what He allows or does not allow it is far beyond humanity’s present understanding. Who are we to say whether we do something of our own free will or whether it is indeed… the will of God."

I will add this to my book, but it makes me wonder, how about you?

From a raging sea filling me

To butterflies and leaves drifting free

Thoughts fill the air around me.

Then there are dark days

When thoughts cannot be found.

When they are not even whispers of butterfly wing

They are dreams shattered by the morning light

Or barely there smoke that vanishes with the slightest breath of air.

Some days I stand on the edge of the world and see it stretched wide

Willing to show me everything it has

Even the secrets play hide and seek with me.

The air is fresh and easy to breathe,

The light is gentle and kind.

Then there are the dark days,

Where shadow and light fight and the light struggles to find the day.

Thoughts whispered become wisps of smoke

Too easily carried away from me.

I like the days of butterfly wings and leaves.

I even find enchantment in the stormy seas.

But the darkness threatens too many days

To overwhelm me and force me to walk among the shadows

Like the struggling light,

Fighting to find a way out and touch the breeze

That carries so many wonderful things

Like leaves and butterflies,

thoughts and dreams,

and on good days me.

by Dallas Sieck

I am drowning in a sea of emotion

In the sensual senses that come from all of the world around me.

The world touches me

With invisible fingers,

Gentle and graceful,

Fingers caress bare flesh.

From nowhere there is a breath of wind

It whispers softly

A lover’s sweetness,

So much tenderness.

I close my eyes to the world and see it revealed

In a whole new way.

The heart still beats,

I still breathe,

But life has changed for me.

As emotions wash over me,

They find their way inside

And fill me

Completely.

At once a prisoner and completely free,

I am drowning,

But have little desire to fight,

Let it take me where it will.

To crash upon a shore,

Or find my way to the top of some far away mount.

It sometimes lifts me high,

On wings I fly,

Yet still I know

I am drowning,

I am so full,

How can I possibly be so light?

Each breath I take lifts me higher,

Each beat of my heart tells me

I am both prisoner and free.

And I see the world below me,

And finally the vast sea,

The sea of emotions that have come for me,

And filled me so completely.

by Dallas Sieck

We make love to the world

With gently placed words,

In the same manner

The artist creates his art,

As the musician brings life to his music,

We caress,

We stroke,

We play,

We create,

We love unselfishly,

Fully and completely.

Unashamed.

We feel the world breathe,

Come alive,

Move and tempts us.

We tremble as the world trembles at our touch.

We love this gentle seduction.

With our hearts,

Our souls,

We breathe as one with what we have been given to create with,

Giving with the tenderness of lovers.

by Dallas Sieck

May your hearts be filled with the gentle love of spring and peace find you always.

HUGS

HUGS

Hearts of gold

They know of no other way to be

they run because that is what they were made to do

their hearts are for one moment in time

their minds on one thing

to live as free and happy as can be

We all just want to be happy and free

They know no other way to be

they run and run,

they laugh and smile when they can

they love with all their heart

spirits so strong

their lives are lived

moment to moment

their love is offered always

as free as they wish to be

as free as we should all be

they know of no other way to be

they run with the wind

give everything they have to give

oh why can't everyone be as wonderful and free

so full of life

with a spirit set on fire

and hearts of gold

strong

ever strong.

by Dallas Sieck

Such a fragile thing

Something thought to be unseen

Supposed to go unheard,

Heart breaking,

Screams filling endless nights.

What is one to do when the reflection you seek

Is not the one you see?

What do we do?

The world moves forward

In a self made reality

Leaving behind broken hearts,

Broken dreams and sometimes broken minds.

What is one to do when all you thought you sought,

Is not what you thought?

Sanity is such a fragile thing,

Not quite as simple as one would like to believe

Not quite as safe,

But being a part of life

It cannot be denied.

Sanity is such a fragile thing

And with it come so many things,

From the greatest happiness to the deepest anguish,

The soul is deeply touched.

And life moves forward as the world turns.

Lifting us,

Leaving us,

And reminding us always,

Sanity is such a fragile thing.

by Dallas Sieck

Have a wonderful weekend my friends! God Bless and keep you all!

HUGS

You have to admire some people, they give you no choice.

Kids are amazing. My sixteen year old and I were talking one day about the earthquake in Chine and my son walked in and said, "What plague?" Now it took a minute for this to sink in, you have to remember we were discussing the earthquake. Then we both looked at him and said, "What?"

He wanted to know what we were talking about because all he heard was( this really is interesting folks)Plague and plane. Now my daughter and I have no idea how he managed to get those two things out of Earthquake in China, but somehow he came to believe there was a plague coming over or had come over from China on a plane. Yes, we still laugh about it.

There are a number of things on this world that cause great amusement I have to wonder if some were not put here just for that purpose.

Have a great week!

HUGS

My Notebook

Just a tattered notebook,

Careworn and torn,

Coffee and tea stains,

Tears that fell like rain,

Mostly ragged,

Yet I manage to find a few crisp pages

Waiting to be filled.

Many more are dog-eared,

Some scribbled on.

Words sometimes faded,

But I still see each word there,

Each with a special place of its own,

Almost a shadow in my mind.

They speak to me,

Soft, gentle whispers from some other place,

Some other time,

Real worlds to me,

Fill me.

Each time I journey away,

Through time worn pages,

Or pages scrubbed clean,

In the old tattered notebook I keep,

My faithful companion,

Ever true and ever by my side,

A much beloved friend.

No one would ever suspect this tattered old notebook,

Careworn and torn,

But it is mine.

A dear and special friend.

by Dallas Sieck

I have been very much under the weather and so have been off much of the time. This has given me more opportunity to explore my many books at a greater length than I have in a very long time.

Alzheimer's robs you of much more than memory. It eats away at your life in ways you don't recognize too often until it is too late. Being a writer this part it seems to enjoy taking from me is my language. Scrambling thoughts and letters until words are difficult at best to puzzle out. But those are my bad days, and there are plenty for me to get through.

On good days, I read up a storm and try to write as much as I can. It isn't easy to do though because there are so many things in life that demand attention. It is exciting going through several good days and being able to write a lot and edit what I need to.

It robs you of something else too, it robs you of you. When you look out at a world that keeps going forward and you seem to have stopped, it can be trying and frightening. I still think more about my family though. What will they do? What kind of burden will I be to them? I hate to think what they might have to do or give because of me. I realize we all give of ourselves when we live among others, unless we be totally selfish, but I have a dislike for being thought of as a burden.

Doesn't everyone?

Have a great weekend everyone!

HUGS

For those who suffer their dreams
that are freer than they are
for those whose dreams drift so much higher than they can
this one is for you.
Dreams can carry us
like the breath of a breeze will an eagle,
dreams can carry us,
if we let them.
For those who suffer their dream
to fly higher than they can,
reach up and try to touch the sky
bend with the wind
this one is for you.
For those whose dreams grew wings
so much stronger than their own can be,
my sweet friends,
this one if for you.
Never give up,
they dreams will carry you if you let them.
They are made stronger than we are
so they might lift us higher than we might otherwise go, or grow.
So for all of those who suffer their dreams
that seem so much freer than they are,
this one is for you.
I too release my dreams
and watch them fly so much higher than I,
then suddenly
they lift me up
and I am with my dreams.

by Dallas Sieck

I have something I want to say

something I want to share,

something that is screaming to be heard

something that longs to be known.

My heart cries out

to a world that just doesn't seem to care.

Why do I try?

Walking in circles never getting

very far ahead

wondering in more than one sense

more than one place,

and finding nothing to grab on to

nothing to hold,

and no one to hold on to me.

I have something to say

but will anybody hear it,

will anybody care?

A scream that was silenced long ago,

a whisper that reveals worlds that long to be seen and heard, to be felt,

but sit in silence and watch

as a too busy world rushes on

leaving it and me far behind.

Thrust upon a shore like a wave,

left to fend for myself

under a dense summer sun

only the gentle and loving touch of the wind releases me

lifts me,

carries me far away.

Something longs to be heard,

but whether anybody does or not

we no longer care.

We speak,

we sing,

we open to the world around

and pray we touch as we have been touched,

gently and with love,

revealing what must.

by Dallas Sieck

How can a person write something and not be attached? How would it be possible to not become a part of what you have written? Words flow from a very deep part of us, they cannot just be snipped and sent packing and feelings we have tend to fill these words as much as the words fill us and the pages we write on.

We become attached to people who read the words we write as well and when those people enjoy our work it is wonderful, when it makes them think it is wonderful and when they say they aren't sure about what we write, some become offended or hurt while others try to change the way they write or present what they write to be more appealing.

Some just write to write and some write for adventure and some to touch some part of others in a new way. No matter how we write or what we write there are still feelings attached and we go with whatever we have written so it touches us back in a different way.

Have a wonderful week, I know, I was tagged and should tag in return. Give me a few. :)

HUGS

We rise up from a youth

heedless of all before us,

We lift up our hearts to all that is willing to embrace us

never looking back to what might have been

seldom considering

what might be.

From our youth

we rush head long into a long struggle with adult life

too hectic to turn back,

still not realizing all that lies ahead.

When the time comes that we do glance back

it is some days with wishful heart

of all we left behind,

and some days resentful

of all we left.

Sooner than we wish

time speeds then slows

never as we would wish,

just as it has decided.

When one day we chance a glance in the looking glass

do we then see how much time flew by.

The glimpses into a future

now far too near than one might ever have realized,

come insights of a life we were too flippant with

and denied too much direct attention.

But now a smile we must allow

for time will be our guide,

and soon one greater than we

will open good strong arms

and whisper gently,

never mind.

by  Dallas Sieck

I know I said I was resting this weekend, but this popped into my head and refused to be still, insisting on being shared with all of you wonderful people.

Have a most awesome Sunday!!

HUGS

Due to a silly cold and allergies and being way too tired for my own good, I am taking a break for the weekend. If I post a poem, I can hardly keep myself from writing after all. Found out what happens when do that the hard way. Does Straight jacket and padded cell mean anything? :D Anyway, for all me wonderful friends out there, I could no more forget you than I could God or that the sun rules the day while the moon governs the night, I love you all to death!! :) So have a truly awesome weekend my wonderful friends and I will see you when the light touches my face and says, "WAKE UP!"

HUGS & Snuggles to you all!!