Julia

Julia..............
    One of those people in my life that just makes me grateful to know her.
Tomorrow is Veteran's day. A day when we celebrate heroes.
To me, she is one.

She is indeed a veteran, but her heroics are not connected to that time of her life that she served in the military.

The one heroic part of her connected to her military time is that as a young girl , a little mixed up and hurt by some things in her childhood, she made a choice. A choice to remove herself from the life that had hurt her, and to walk into a new life of discipline and order , and to start a new life for herself. I never really told her how proud I was of her to make that choice and to restart her life. It is time she knows that.

She always just 'got to me' , something about her sincerity just always got deep into my spirit. One thing that made her a hero to me is a drive to church one night. I was furious at my husband and ranting about the injustices of life with him..... lol..... she stopped me in mid sentence and said, " do you know how ugly you are when you frown like that? When you smile you are so pretty. No matter how mad you are, just smile as you are talking about the problem, because your pretty face should never look like it looks right now"....... I was the older friend, I was the one that was supposed to be showing her the facts of life, and the way to live 'right'. But with that one sentence said with such love to me, she changed my life. It ha been 30 years since that night and yet everytime I get really mad, and rant... I hear her. I try to stop contorting my face into that twist of anger. I don't always pull it off, mind you, but dang it I try! Not a sermon , not a song, not a movie, nothing in my life ever really impacted me like those words did. I have told her many times that those words she said that night never left me, and gave me a life lesson to remember  (beauty comes in a simple smile ), but I think I need to tell her again. 

When her young marriage ended and left her with two very active young boys..... she hung in there. She worked hard, tried to do her best and had enough sense to ask for advise and more importantly prayer when she needed it. She had some hard times , but she loved those boys with her whole heart. She was given a good husband the second time around, and I am grateful for that. But life in a blended family is hard, and her ex didnt help much with his agenda to use the kids as pawns or possessions to be fought over instead of trying to help her raise them in a good way without pulling them in different directions. She is my hero for never punching his lights out, because to be honest I might have in her place ! Dont get me wrong , she is human, she wanted to.. but she didnt! 

Four years ago she became another kind of hero to me. One that I never ever want to become. I walked into a funeral home to stand beside her , as she looked down into a casket with her precious , beautiful marine son laying in it. She will tell you she was a mess. She will tell you that she is no hero..... but she was standing...... she was standing....... I dont know how , but she was standing. Kids aren't supposed to die at 20 years old, and they are sure not supposed to die in the streets of a land across an ocean. I watched her caress her sons face for hours as people passed..... each moment holding my breath waiting for her to collapse. But she didnt. A day later I watched a flag be placed in her lap, and to me, that was the epitome of bravery. She was my hero that day and I am sure , she was her son's hero as well. 

Today she showed me her heroics again. It is the marine corp birthday. I have thought of her and her precious son all day. I have see sawed between sadness and anger and worry for her, and so many other emotions. I planned the tribute I would pay to her son tomorrow for Veterans day, what picture would I post, what words would I say to show how much his sacrifice and her strength have meant to me........ All my love was pouring out to her, without her even knowing it as far as I know. We kinda have this understanding that she is not quite stable yet..... not quite ready to get a call from weepy me..... I dont call on days like this. I just pray for her and think about her son. But a van pulled up....... a woman got out and she had flowers to deliver. I assumed they were for my daughter from her boyfriend , or one of my other kids........ but my name was on the card. The  card said simply " To brighten your day      Love, Julia"  

How did she know my day needed to be brightened?    I guess Heroes just know....

I love you Julia.  You amaze me. 
TJ 2010

perspective........

About a month ago I was having a bad day ... down about several very sad things happening with family members. I looked out at my drought dried yard and it seemed to just show what our family's life was at that time. So barren from joy, just one big BLAH, with no sign that green grass would grow again, that flowers would bloom, that beauty would return someday.
Since it was a fairly warm day, I did what I usually do when depression tries to grab hold of my spirit. I headed outside to lay and capture the warmth of the sun before fall and winter really decended
.
I was really so close to giving into total depression that I laid down and just closed my eyes, and tried to just fall asleep and shut down my mind. But my mind did not want to shut down..... people that fight depression seem to always find a way to blame every trouble on themselves. This child is suffering because I did something wrong..... this person died becaue i did not pray right...... this friend's heart is broken because I did not share the right word of encouragement..... that is how the mind attacks you. In one day every good thing in my life disappeared and all I could see was the dry , brown, dying landscape of my back yard, as a perfect picture of all my imagined failures.  Surely nothing could live there, thrive there, be blessed there.... not in that brown yard or not in my life. And surely no one could look at my life and see anything else but dry , brown  , useless clay.

   Then the whispers started..... " open your eyes"
And I did ...... and this is what I saw.....

I don't have a fancy camera..... I couldnt pick up the ants scurrying around in this skyscraper of green. I couldnt pick up the fluttering of little bug happily flying around this oasis of life, but they were there... oblivious to the desert around them. When I looked out my backdoor I would have bet any amount of money that there was not one blade of grass growing in that sea of brown...... but to those little bugs, there were huge cities where they were going about their business , happily enjoying the warm sun.

"That's your life" , the whisper said..... "Sometimes the big picture looks very bleak, very barren.... but I see from all angles, all perspectives. I see the patches of green, past triumphs, future happiness, and blessings every day even when you do not"

My day changed totally just looking at things from a bugs eye view. Instead of focusing on the bad things that were going on, I started thinking about all the good things going on right in the midst of the seeming desert. The big bad turn of events in one childs life gave way to the really good things that are still in place, and all the things that will be with prayer and support. The failures that had blown so large in my mind started being replaced by all the blessings in my life.... and like those ants, I started enjoying the tall buildings of green that surrounded me, I started seeing that even if it is just a small patch of life , if I stay in the memory of those blessings during the drought time, then life is good........ really good.

TJ 2010

art, Creator and my Life.wmv

Mike........

Funny how days go. I write a blog about thanksgiving and then something makes me sad .... I write a blog about roads and then the path of my own mind takes silly turns and twists.
The news announced that Sparky Anderson had died.  He was the manager of our home town Reds and took us to two world series championships. I am sad for the loss of this man, but sad as a stranger is sad for a public figure.
But what my mind did upon hearing those word was to twist around the block in a heartbeat of time, and remember my friend Mike. Our senior year of school, skipping school to go downtown to see the Reds return victorious from their second championship............ oh the people! Man I had never seen so many people in my whole life.... every  street in Cincinnati looked like it was an ocean, swaying and moving like a million ants were walking together, but it was people .. everywhere. We had such a good time, looking at the crowds, laughing at our 'grown up' ability to go downtown and hang with the crowds. We had such a good time!
   But 16 years ago my friend Mike ended his life. What is spoken of on the news almost nightly now, was hush hush and quiet then. A homosexual man struggling to believe that a God could love him, that people would accept him, hiding all his hurts and insecurities inside bottles bought off the shelves of liquor stores. Multiplied in strength by pills that well meaning doctors doled out to shush the voices of shame and confusion that screamed inside his head. He had told me once that now he had found God and accepted Him as His Savior that he would be 'good', be all that people told him he needed to be. He would abstain from men....... he would abstain from alcohol, he would abstain from medicine that he abused and he would live for God. The problem is that those well meaning people who told him that love for God was enough, never told him how to actually make all those promises happen for him. How loving God would suddenly make him not be attracted to men. How the shame of that attraction would make him feel more shameful than ever and in turn have to return to those things that silenced the pain and shame....... words were thrown at him about what God expected but never words that shared the Power of how to actually make it happen.
  He said that if he ever felt like he was going to return to alcohol and drugs to silence the shame, he was afraid He would renounce his God and lose Him forever, and so if the draw to the chemicals overtook him, he said he would end his life before he renounced God, and hope that God would take him into heaven , even with his flaws , understanding that his death would be his last act of love to God, done to show that he refused to be in the place where a drug and alcohol hazed brain might cause him to renounce Jesus as His Savior.
    Today as I hear about the death of sports legend, my mind goes instead to a boy....... a real life honest to goodness sweetheart of a boy, who had one day of the most fun ever, laughing and cheering for a team that won the hearts of a city in 1976....... and my heart is heavy thinking of the years following where that boy grew into a man, but never lost the hurt , the feeling of being not good enough, the pain, the shame, and all the things that people and their words and their judgement weighed him down with. I miss my friend . I wanted to grow old with him , sharing stories and memories and laughs and faith and tears with. I want to be able to pick up the phone today and say , omg , remember the day the Reds won? Remember how we picked our way through the people and loudness and craziness of the downtown gathering? But I cant. I will never be able to again. And that stinks.
I miss you Mike. You were always good enough for me............ I wish so many voices had not convinced you that you werent good enough for God.
TJ
2010

how simple roads can become a pilgrimage of thanksgiving....

For most people in my town, the streets surrounding the complex of the VA hospital, Childrens Hospital and University Hospital, are just pavements leading to destinations. Just gray roads that serve one purpose, to allow a traveler to get from point A to point B.
But to me? These roads are always , and I mean ALWAYS,  a journey of remembrance. Sad, funny, happy, scary, and unbelievable things happened in the buildings that line up along the streets that I drive upon.
The street that leads to the Hospital that housed the Aids clinic that I traveled to weekly for years, watching the tubes of blood being drawn, waiting for results that would show a good report ........ watching the sad faces of the nurses as they studied the crazy lady who believed miracles still happen.... and the day that the results came back negative...... NEGATIVE! after three years of positives...... the faces of the nurses now looking at the mom who never gave up hope and now had the results that said her child didn't need to come back there ever again, because a disease that is 'irreversible" just disappeared from the bloodstream of a child that should have had a death sentence.
Around the curve to the building where a young foster mom went to pick up a new born baby  whose mother was being led out another door in handcuffs, taken back to her prison cell as soon as she was safely through the birth of her child. The road leads around another bend where the parking garage stands, where that same foster mom took that baby and hurridly got him dressed in pretty 'welcome home' clothes while sitting in her car. What a day of sadness for a mom who would never know her child, but a day of fun for a foster mom dressing a real life doll to take home to love and pass along for hugs from eager sisters and brothers who were waiting for the new arrival.
Back up the street to the MRI building where a 2 year old little girl was lain, asleep with the aid of medicine to find out why her little leg and arm did not seem to know what to do, how to move, how to bend and strongly allow the little girl to walk and run like she should. Sadness to hear that a stroke that occured before her birth had caused these limbs to be limp and useless.  Up the road the building where two years of physical therapy came twice a week , tiring times for the little girl and her busy mom. But today 17 years later I drive by those two  buildings and laugh at those results knowing that the same little girl can walk, run , dance and move with no remnants of any of those early years of Physical therapy.
My face turns up at the tallest tower building and remember my friend Linda and I pacing, talking , praying and waiting for her little girl to come out of one of many many heart surgeries, I look up and remember how tiny the 8 year old seemed , how completey white her face was, her fingertips blue with the eerie blue around her lips..... I remember thinking this is recovery? But when the doctors have shut the blood flow down for so long to do all the repair that is needed it takes a long time for the skin and nailbeds to look like they are supposed to look. My friend, such a precious woman, but with no relationship or even knowledge of the ONE who made her, had enough sense to know if her little girl's life was on the line, in this one last ditch effort to finally fix her heart, call someone who knew Him , the One who made the little girl. " come and do what ever it is you do " , she said to me ,  " because I dont know God but I know you do and I know He listens"  Through the prayers we shared over her little one, she came to know Him in a way most people never do, truly with total trust even with no 'book learnin' about Him. Just simple faith that He listens to those He knows. That building is extra special to me, for the childs healthy recovery and for a friend who found Him before her own young death.
Oh around another corner, here comes the Emergency Room...... with nine boys the trips there are numerous! Not to say only the boys ended there, but they sure had the majority rule on trips! The 2 year old with a broken leg ( who knew slides could break legs) , the broken wrist, the broken hand......... the stitches, the major league home run ball hit  through my sons mouth...... so many trips to the ER and yet , no major life long injuries and no deaths. For a mom who made so many trips there , that is a cause for great thanksgiving.
Oh my gosh in the top floor of that tower stands the NICU unit. Neonatal Intensive Care..... one of the scariest places on earth. Little human beings so tiny that you can not believe they are real. Their skin is like wax paper, so frail that you know if you breath hard on them it will just flake away. Hissing machines that breath for them, needles stuck in so many places with tubes and tubing that it seems they are held together with wires and tubes. There are no faces in this place..... only masks, which means no smiles, just eyes that show the sadness or hope, or in the case of some parent, devastation. I remember picking up my 2 pound son, finally , at 3 and a half months old...... a whopping almost 4 pounds by then. He was so stiff like a plastic doll, his little body being used to only laying flat for so long in that plastic box that held his life....... and thinking how can he survive at all ? I stare up at that tower 21 years later and the smile of thanksgiving that breaks across my face is for the memory of that same child , this morning towering over me at 6'4" , healthy, happy, productive and filled with a love for me that I still cant quite understand. How did that little frail human become so strong and so filled with love? Miracles, miracles that started in the scariest place on earth.
 That building over there....... the surgical unit where my 16 month old struggled to come back to life after the medicine meant to keep her asleep during surgery  , almost kept her asleep for eternity....... such a long day waiting to hear if she would ever wake up.... fear that when she did she might never be herself again, and yet 16 years later she is healthy with no side effects or memories of that scary day.
  AWWWW the smokers hut , where even the non smokers gathered to keep warm, needing to be with other parents in the middle of the night, when the rest of the city slept, not knowing that we gathered there, stealing away from our kids rooms to catch our breath, cry together, share our stories and just breath for a minute..... some of us knowing we would take our children home with stitches and tubes, but others knowing they were here until they would leave alone, while their children left in the back of a long black car..... the instant friendship and fellowship of scared , confused, angry parents, who still were in shock that this huge complex would become such a big part of our lives....... there were good times there in the wee hours of the mornings, and some of the faces of those parents are still etched deeply in my mind.... but again, I remember those nights with thanksgiving because the children I had in those hospital beds all came home healthy and well.
I know these buildings from the outside , in.... the tunnels, the elevators, the parking garages, the cafeterias, the blood labs, the surgical units , I could take you through blindfolded, and yet every single child I entered with is alive and well..... how could these streets be anything but a pilgrimage of extreme thankfullness! Of humble gratitude? Of remembering a God who walked with me and touched each child I carried in and out of there?
These buildings hold more history for my family than most buildings in town. Without the healing touch of the doctors and nurses, without the encouragement of the staff, without the prayers whispered and shouted, my house would have been so very different.
So no matter how many time I drive down these streets, it is never ordinary. It is never done without thought, never in a state of mindlessness.......... instead it is always a pilgrimage of thanksgiving. Alway every building is gazed at with a feeling of awe, of humble joy, of a remembrance that the ONE who made me gave me so much in every  building I pass.
TJ
2010

Just around the bend............

    Yesterday I was driving home and came upon a car accident. One of the cars had two elderly people in it and the elderly man was heading out of his car to see about the woman in the other car. Because I live on a high accident corner, I have seen so many people still in shock, stumbling around the road, and nearly getting hit by passing cars who wont slow down for accidents, I decided to pull over and suggest he get back in his car, and to check on all the people involved. After checking on everyone and trying to soothe the elderly woman, I left the scene when the paramedics and police showed up.
   I was dropping some things off at my house and then going on to the next errand. I went a back way so that I wouldnt have to navigate through the intersection of the accident, and the route I took brought me just a block up from the scene. I figured I would look down the street at the progress of the scene when I came out a block up from it...... to my surprise, the bend in the road totally obscured my view. To anyone turning onto or out of the street I was on, there was no sign that a pretty big , scary accident was right there, around the bend.
  The whispers I know so well came at that moment. This is what whispered in my mind........ "that is life. Right around the bend you never know what is happening. Sometimes the blessing you are waiting for is right around that bend, out of site but yet, so close, just so very close......... other times a tragedy is right around the bend..... you are happily and mindlessly driving around and then as you steer around the bend , there it is, something you dreaded or something you didnt even think to dread. Do you stay fixed on Me, so that you are ready to handle what may be around the bend? What about the people around you? Do you show them compassion, do you realize that from your vantage point their life may seem carefree and tragedy proof, and yet right around the bend, right out of your site , they might be dealing with things that are hard, that are fearful, that are heartbreaking?
  When you are in the midst of your own 'car wreck' do you realize or remember that right at the next block things will be ok again, and that you will be able to continue on down the path of your life? Or do you only see that wreck right there and think that I am not with you , watching over you, helping you? When you are before the bend, where no bad things are happening, do you remember the times I brought you through the wrecks in your life?"
   So many things are right around the bend..... blessings, accidents, places where life seems to be one big 'smash 'em up" , but our paths are ordered and if we keep our eyes on Him we will be ok, before the bend in the road, at the scene of  the accident and further on down the road..........

His beauty

                           HIS BEAUTY

A DEER SCURRIES ALONG AND THEN LEAPS GRACEFULLY

   OVER A HYDRANT TO ESCAPE THE WHEELS OF MY CAR, AS IT SPEEDS OVER THE BLACK PATH MAN HAS LAID.

A SKUNK PEACEFULLY EATS CLOVER

BESIDE THE CRACKED AND BROKEN ROADS OF ASPHALT

ORANGE LEAVES SHINE BRIGHTLY

AGAINST THE UGLY , YELLOW FLOURESENT LIGHTS.

A BEAUTIFUL VINE OF MORNING GLORIES CLIMB

 GROWING UP, TANGLED ON THE RUSTED STREET SIGN.

A SPIDER'S WEB MAGNIFICENT

 AND SPARKLING WITH MORNING DEW

   ADORNS THE WEATHERED PAINT OF AN OLD RAILING

SNOW FALLS

 AND IN AN HOURS TIME, BLANKETS THE FILTH OF OUR STREET

   COVERING THE EFFECTS OF LAZY MEN'S LEFT BEHIND TRASH

THE MOON FULL AND GLOWING

STANDS IN BEAUTY...

 OVERSHADOWING A MILLION WATTS OF MAN MADE LIGHTS

NO MATTER HOW MUCH MAN TRIES TO CREATE BEAUTY

   HE IS OVERSHADOWED BY THE TRUE CREATORS WORKS

AND NO MATTER HOW MUCH MAN'S LAZINESS ATTEMPTS TO DESTROY THE CREATION

   IT IS FUTILE BECAUSE THE CREATOR'S  GIFTS STILL OVERPOWER MANS FILTH

t.j james

the day i met Him..

           dirty rags

i remember the day i met Him

   i stood in rags, dirty, alone, and unloved

He stopped and looked at me

   not past me, as most did

but at me, staring deeply into my eyes.

i felt shame run through me

   i was so dirty, so ugly, so unworthy

His beauty only magnifying my filth

   instead of turning from me in disgust , He smiled

He looked into my eyes, and He reached to touch me

i pulled away, unwilling to allow His goodness to be touched

   by the ugliness that was my life

He spoke to me, "remove your garment"

   i felt horror to expose myself to Him

but the love in His eyes compelled me to obey

as i stood naked before Him i was torn... what was worse?

   facing Him in filthy rags, or now letting Him see the condition of my very body

i was covered with sores, scars, and twisted flesh

   so covered with the effects of my life.

He picked up my garment and held it close to Him

   as He inhaled the stench of my life ...      He wept

He seemed to be broken in heart by my condition

   as He wept, His body heaved with sadness, until great drops of Blood mixed with His tears

"I will wash your garment", He said and He looked at me.

   i thought, how will it be clean? Especially with the Blood mixing with my filth?

it could only be dirtier when He was done.

   but He continued turning the garment in His hands

and i saw Blood flowing from His palms.

He drew the garment down His chest, close to His heart ... and Blood flowed from His side

   He finally laid my garment down and stood upon it

Blood flowing even from His feet!

  i watched in awe as the red Blood mixed with the dark filth

and my garment appeared cleaner and cleaner and cleaner.

as His huge sobs turned to soft weeping, i stared

   as He finally looked at me again with a smile

and held out to me my garment, now spotless

   white and glowing with newness and beauty

 

"put it on My daughter", He said

   i pulled away quickly

"never my Lord, i can never put something now so clean, so beautiful, on this

   broken and infected body"

He smiled and gently put it on me and watched and waited…

   to my amazement as the Blood washed garment touched my flesh

i could see the scars, the disease, the abscesses melt into new fresh healthy skin

   i stood whole, sweet, innocent and beautiful before Him

i fell at His feet and worshipped Him, my promises to Him flowing

   from a heart of thankfulness

"i will stand in beauty and wholeness forever

   in my garment that You made clean"

T.J. James

stand!

                                      STAND

STAND

   I KNOW WHO I AM IN THIS WORLD

   I AM HIS, A CHILD PROTECTED

                          SO

   I STAND.

THE GROUND AROUND ME

   TREMBLES AND QUAKES

WITH A THOUSAND PROBLEMS

               STILL

I STAND.

THE ENEMY USES THE TONGUES

   OF THE VERY PEOPLE I HAVE LOVED

AND HIS ACCUSATIONS STING

           BUT ALWAYS....

I STAND.

UNCERTAINTY AND FEAR WOO ME

   TO PERSUADE ME TO ALLOW THEM TO BE MY CONSTANT COMPANIONS

BUT THEY WANT TO BREAK ME,

   TO MAKE ME FALL IN PIECES OF DEFEAT.....

SO I LOOK AWAY FROM THEM AND

          STAND.

ONE DAY I WILL KNEEL

   I WILL FALL

I WILL LAY ON MY FACE

   TO GIVE MY ALL

TO THE ONLY ONE WHO

   GAVE ME POWER THROUGH HIS LOVE

TO STAND.

TJ JAMES 2009

W.W. J.D.

   I have been thinking a lot lately about the saying" What Would Jesus Do?" . I hear it alot. I see it on bracelets and t-shirts and posters. It was catchy and made   you think before you acted....... but sometimes I dont get people's obsession with the question. I wonder if you have to stop and think, What would Jesus do, are you really walking in His Spirit?
   Does He desire a people that have to stop and think and decide what course of action is best to do what He would do? Or would He rather have a people who are filled with Him and just instictively do as He would do?
   What kind of believer in Christ am I? What kind are You? Do we need to stop and think WWJD? Or are we so filled with His Spirit we walk in the values and emotions, and faith that He walked in? I hope I am part of the latter group. I hope that I allow His Spirit to so live in me that I react to this world and the people in it the way He would, without having to stop for a second to consider "WWJD?"

Failure....... it's a beautiful thing...

Failure......... it’s a beautiful thing....

A pat on the back, "good job"

An award for the best of the best

A certificate that proclaims that you achieved, you completed, you learned

A trophy that bears the number 1 complete with a big shiny ribbon......

    We strive for these things, as children, as teens, as adults.

    We want to feel smart, educated, successful, and able to achieve.

But tonight I earned something better........

    Something sweeter, something so much more fulfilling.

    I failed.......

And in the failure, I learned many things.

    I learned that I am still valued even when I don’t shine

    I learned that a teacher that gently teaches is worth more than a teacher that berates.

    I learned that when I am slowed by sickness or grief, my life is still precious to those who love me.

    I learned that I am treasured for who I am, rather than what I can accomplish.

In failure I earned the right to feel that I am who I am, not what I do........

    And to me that is the biggest trophy I have ever received.

a poem about the whispers i heard concerning clouds.........

                                 I want to be a Cloud

No matter what the world below holds…

   Clouds are unchanged by it.

As men and machines scurry about

   Hurried and frenzied, never seeming to relax,

Clouds float, unbothered, slowly dancing their way above it all.

When life below is stifled with sameness, boredom

    And monotonous routine,

They shift and change into new shapes and colors.

    The shifting comes from the breezes that carry them.

Allowing newness with every wind.

While the earth and people below wither…

     Parched by the heat of the day

Clouds puff up to shelter us with their shade,

    Then quench our thirst as they rain down

The cooling water that nourishes our world. 

I want to be a cloud for my Creator

   To shift by His breezes into what He needs me to be.

Not changed by the world that surrounds me.

   Formed only by the currents of His Spirit.

When those around me are dry

    Their hearts heated to dust from the pains of their world,

I want to be puffed up and filled with His Spirit

    To be able to rain down His living water upon them.

As people around me feel their spirits heat in anger, or sadness

   Let me shade them with His love, His words, His Character.

And yet to also know when to become just a wisp, hardly noticeable

    To those who are doing well… who do not need me in that moment.

Yes, I want to be a cloud Lord…

   For you,

For those You love,

  And for myself

Where the only thing shaping me is the breath of Your Spirit...

T J James

2010

Why Whispers?

   For a long time I have tried to start a blog....... but just naming it was too much for me to figure out!
My life is a swirl of so many pieces, so many things that are important to me... how was I supposed to come up with a title that encompassed it all?
   Today it finally came  to me that no matter what part of my life I blogged about, whether the good , or the bad, or even the seemingly blah..... the whispers of my Creator have been the one thing that is constant.
   The good days are better, brighter and full of beauty because He whispers things to teach me.
The bad days are bearable because of the things He whispers that strengthen me.
The blah days find new luster and excitement because of the things He whispers that enlighten me...
    So whispers it is......