My Father’s Home


By Shaun K. – Angels by Grace Pub. – Oct. 1997

No matter where I travel,

No matter where I roam,

I’m in my Father’s kingdom

So everywhere is “home.”


My ceiling’s made of fluffy clouds

Afloat in skies of blue.

My carpet’s woven of grass

And flowers fresh with dew.


My walls are made of mountains

And woods of stately trees,

My “home” is warmed by sunshine

And in summer, cooled by breeze.


When my earthly days are done

And I no longer roam.

I’ll still be in His kingdom –

I’ll be in my Father’s home.

Blessings to you.

The Violet

Written by Karen Austin – Angels by Grace Pub. Aug. 2003


Beneath the hillside’s rocks and weeds

Competing for space with other seeds

A violet with tender, fragile shoots

Fights for a stronghold within the tangled roots

And as tiny leaves begin to form

Unprepared for the coming storm

A heavy darkness overcame and broke

The plant beneath the shadow of the Oak.


Crushed and spent by feet on the run

The violet turns its head to the rising sun.

And seeks the dew of each new morn

While hiding from its brother’s scorn.

A tethered flower not free to grow

As only its windswept friends could know

The plant gains strength from the world above

And repairs itself…except for love


And in its own appointed time

Recovers from the silent crime

It stands so quiet, brave and still

Rooted there against the hill

Borne on wings of defiance and hope

Grappling with life against the slope

Til at last Violet raises her regal purple crown

While worms crawl silently beneath the ground. *

Blessings to you.

The Real Church


There are some who say

The church is a sacred place—

And to let my feelings show

Would be a real disgrace.


So as I dressed for church

And finished with my hair—

I glanced into the mirror

To be sure my mask was there.


I heard the Lord so gently

Speaking to my soul

“My child, I long to touch you—

I want to make you whole…”


“I brought you here today—

Not for you to hide—

But that others on life’s journey

Could help you see inside…


“In the world, it’s hard

To let the real you show—

But here, My child, you’re safe—

It’s where hurting people go.


I long to help you children—

That’s why My church was born—

Come unto Me, I’ll help you mend

When you feel tossed and torn…”


My tears began to flow—and

My mask slipped to the floor—

But it’s OK—I’m welcome here—

I won’t need it anymore.

Author Unknown


Blessings to you.