Shackled to a 4x4 beam. Shoulders ached. 12 hours earlier, The Pharisees had returned a verdict of guilty. Guilty of not following doctrine. For daring to question ritualistic antiquited practices. Immediately, they strapped the timber behind my neck and across my shoulders sent me off into the desert. Feet raw, and head throbbing, I approached what … Continue reading Fear No Evil by Raymond Roy. #writephoto
I was 15 years old, visiting my Dad in Edmonton Alberta during my high school Spring break in Washington State. Strangely He and I went on a shopping spree. Blue plaid suit, deep blue shirt and a white tie. The next day we got up early. Dad standing in front of me shirtless freshly shaven, … Continue reading “Day in Court”
I learned that you are dead. Although words say you have passed, your cruel deeds committed by you to me as a child still lingered for decades. You might have softened and treated your own children better than you treated your foster children. I had a condition you judged as a plea for attention. Rather … Continue reading The Obituary
14 years old Your arm was around me You were my hero I noticed the strength in your arm I felt safe and loved The veins in your arm were pronounced, bulging, appearing to be at capacity of their designed function. I commented that your strength was that of a body builder. You responded that … Continue reading Veins
Cherry Pie Funny how a taste or smell of certain food can open a floodgate of memories. Recently, after a long enjoyable afternoon of fellowship at church, I sat down, with a piece of cherry pie. As I took my first bite, I was transported back to October 1972. I was still living in … Continue reading Cherry Pie
"Margie" As I type that name I want to scream! No words can describe the level of terror this woman woman inflicted on us 3 kids. Flash-bash, MidSixties, British Columbia, Canada: To memory, Margie first showed up on the scene in '67. We lived in a small house on a corner lot of St. Paul … Continue reading “Margie” Abuse or Discipline?
We all have a sad story but I believe we also have a story of hope if we can recognize the chains that bind us making us prisoners of our past, "sins"of our fathers, (sins in the sense that what we have learned from our parental figures(blood or not) that keep us from experiencing the grace … Continue reading Go Boy, Breaking Chains