In a Blink of an Eye

In a blink of an eye

You lose a friend

A loved one walks out of your life

You are diagnosed with an incurable disease
Your family is completely torn apart
You suddenly feel stuck in life

Your life changes!

In a blink of an eye

You do not know where to turn

You are offered but only the hurricanes and the tsunamis of life

Things get to highest peak of the mountain

Only to arrive at deepest depth of the valley

In a blink of an eye, in a blink of an eye!

It's not like you got a prior warning

Or an alert of some sort

It's not like God sent you an email saying

Oh by the way, next Friday morning

Or Saturday at night, this and that is going to happen

So be prepared

Out of nowhere, it just happens!

Out of the blue, it just appears!

You have no handy manual for it

No expert to consult

No one to truly fully understand

Not even yourself to blame

In a blink of an eye, in a blink of an eye!

Your life heads down south, straight to hell!

But if you can hold on to a mustard seed of faith

And let your patience take over your sorrow

If you can just know, like the way you know your problems

That your life will change

That since you have already seen the worst

It can only change for the better

That no condition is ever permanent

Not even death, because there is eternity after it

If you can hold on to a mustard seed of faith

God will be there to keep you company

And to comfort you, and bring you to your destination

Your happiness will not be postponed

And your joy will be full

It is then, that you will be strong!

It is only then that you can say,

It is well with my soul.

~Poem by Trudy Bartels. 03/11/14

When I pray

When I pray, I pray to God.

Not the Sistine Chapel guy with the long white beard who appears fearful

That is honestly not who my God is

I pray to the Creator  who is more than I can conceive

Only because He is always greater than I can imagine;

The Divine entity who is my father, my brother and closer than a friend

When I pray, God is always near to give me an ear

To stay on track, I must have prayer

Many a times, my prayer is for love and light

Not just for the person I pray for, but also for me

I make connections with the Divine and the Divine connects with me

When I pray, something wonderful happens

That prayer changes things!

Bless all that I thankfully receive because of prayer

I am always grateful, yes! I am grateful!
I am grateful that I am heard.

When I pray, healing the world starts with me
Through my prayer, I connect with people all around 

I learn that I am not the center of the universe.

I pray for the angry man with the briefcase,

I pray for the weary mother with the toddler,

I pray for the hungry guy sitting by the roadside

I pray for the young lady who is lost.

Of what use and bridge can I be to You

My Lord?

Of what use can I be to the world around me?
May I be safe, may I be happy, may I be strong!

You are the God who sees in hiding

You are the God who sees in the open

Let Your perfect will be done in all I do

May all my life be a prayer offering to You my Maker

This is my prayer, my humble prayer!

When I pray, silence can be prayer, rage can be prayer

When I pray, I find the courage to be true to myself and to my God

When I pray, I believe that there are answers to the questions and problems I put before my Listener
When I pray, I voice out my intention and learn to be still for those answers

When I pray, I believe that God has three responses: "Yes","Wait because I have a better time for it", or "No because I have something better for you."

When I pray, I pour out my heart to God!
When I pray, I learn to say "Father let your will be done!"

When I pray, I learn that I do not have to understand His will, I just have to trust!

When I pray, I learn that I do not have to analyze His will, I just have to trust!
When I pray, I pray with all my heart

When I pray, I know that I am heard.

By Trudy Bartels
1/29/2014

Poem By Cynthia Amoah

Hello friends!

I present to you "Flowers Only Bloom On Upper-Eastside" by my sister-friend and lovely poet Cynthia Amoah. Cynthia's poem was inspired by Alvin's story (video below). First, take a look at the story and then listen to Cynthia speak. The story is emotional! The message is clear! The poem is deep! She hit the right spots and it's nothing but the truth. After you've listened to her, say a silent prayer for our generation and please do well to spread the message. Share it!

Cynthia's Poem: Flowers Only Bloom On Upper-Eastside



Alvin's Story: Stop and Frisk Program




Post by Trudy Bartels

A blessing in hand is worth more than silver and gold

The woman is blessed

Invented her own style

Has no close connections

With men on Wall Street

You see her on the street,

Corner of Broadway and 42nd

Making strides in the concrete jungle

Where people hardly ever stop and stare

Instead, there she is

Beneath a gigantic and tattered hat

Hair unkempt, in coils, like dry leaves

And the smile on her face

Tell it like she got bills in the bank

Every cell in her body

Seems to curve along with her smile

And her radiant face beams

Like sunshine in the morning

Psst! Hey you! Could you turn that excitement low?

She thought someone would call and say

But who has time anyway?

To holler at a lady in low heels?

Edges of her sleeves

Are lose hanging threads

And her skirt and top 
Yes, they do mismatch

Did I hear you ask about her shoes?

Ha! Those are not a pair!

But she stands tall

As you stare

She stands unshaken

Better yet, as you ignore

Try to ask her if she's fine

And she yells back, FANTASTIC!

As if this were the day

That she would finally get

To tell you the tale behind her unspeakable joy

She looks right through you

But neither you

Even know why she glows

Underneath her very rugged appearance

You look down

At your shiny, perfectly symmetrical shoes

And you think to yourself,

Didn't anyone tell her that she needs a reason

Like a house she owns, matching clothes,

Tanned or toned skin, sheen of fashion,

Bank accounts like the galaxies, always expanding

To feel so high, so excited, so joyous?

But the glint in her, speaks loud to you

Asking you questions like

Who are you?

How do you justify you?

What makes you, you?

What makes you truly happy?

The glint in  her eyes, speaks louder to you

Who made you, you?

How do you justify you?

What makes you, you?

What context gave you, you?

The glint in her being, speaks loudest to you

Who are you?

How do you justify you?

What makes you, you?

Why are you even here?

So you get the hint
More like the message

That she does not long for more than

The breath in her and the Creator that gives it

So you get the hint
More like the message

That she longs for nothing

More than the masterpiece that God made her

Because truly, the masterpiece that she is

Is a blessing in hand

A blessing in hand, that is worth more  than silver and gold!

By Trudy Bartels

11/9/2013

The Wandering Mind

The wandering mind meanders here and there                  

      Hours may dwindle and seasons may change

The wandering mind fluctuates more than your local currency

      Opportunities may pass and decisions may come

But what keeps you going? I ask in thoughts.

      Where paths may be clogged with thorns

             And hope may fade?

What keeps you going? I ask in thoughts,

      Where lanes may be blocked under construction

            And destinations may be lost in sight?

Interrogations echo in the closure of my mind

      Making confrontations of this nature and the like

The wandering mind retorts

      Reflecting to me, images of words like ego and its kind

It says to me, you may stumble a few times against the rocks

      You may become weary of the counter currents against the shore

But what really keeps you going all along?  Again, I ask.

      Where pain and suffering outweigh every pound of pleasure?

Come and answer if you may, come and answer if you may!

Lo and behold says the mind,

      It is, but divine tranquility that I own

When all around me goes haywire

All along men have turned to me

     They have asked me many a times

When trouble knows no bounds

     And the giant that always stands tall and proud begins to quiver

           And joy has left but the heart is cold

When the soul has become sore,

     Pristine, yet lonely in a crowd

What is there to do? Oh! What is there to do?

That mind you know and own has to be told, says the mind,

     That the peace of the One who has the earth as His footstool

            Must guard your heart and cognizance; body, spirit and soul

Therefore, may the peace of God, which transcends all understanding

     Lead you, comfort you, and keep you well composed.

            May that peace which surpasses all others, restore your faith now and forever more

                   Amen.

Poem by - Trudy-Elsie

Date Written 09 -18 -12

"If" by Rudyard Kipling

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son! 

By Rudyard Kipling

                                    Post by : Trudy-Elsie

                                                    Time:09-14-12@ 10:00pm