His message rings true
of grace's gift freely given,
yet, honors free will.
Our eternal destination is our own to decide. The gift has been freely offered. We choose to accept or deny.
fmf April 7, 2023
The Troubadour's Song
Overcome by fear
despairing loss, hope gone
Peter denies Him,
Judas walks beside
the true Messiah, daily
impervious to truth,
ignorance succeeds,
Pharisees deny their Messiah,
Jerusalem cries,
overwhelmed by grief,
John couldn't contain his tears,
his Messiah dies,
dementia cries out,
darkness envelops the cross
death's grip shakes the earth,
heartbreaking loneliness,
despair descends to hell's depth,
where is my hope?
We walk every day beside
the true Messiah,
impervious to truth,
YET>
a single voice sings, illuminating darkness with salvation's song,
the morning light hums, the eternal wrapped in clay, has set Terra free.
His message rings true of grace's gift freely given, honoring free will.
The song of the church is the gospel story of God's eternal plan.
The harvest complete, the church caught up, Israel will once again have a hand in redeeming Man.
Hebrew 4:1 For the word of God is living and active, and piercing as far as the division of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.
Matthew 13: 18-32, Parable of the Sower, Tares among the Wheat and the Mustard Seed, denial and faith to overcome.
Denial or Acceptance come from the heart, here is an excerpt from:
https://crossref-it.info/articles/52/seed-sowing
Parable of the Sower/ and the Mustard Seed Parable Excerpt
"Jesus uses the idea of seed metaphorically in a parable to explain how different people receive the word of God. Christ, who sows the word of God in human hearts, scatters the seed, but some falls on stony ground or is choked by weeds. However, those who receive and understand the word of God are like the good soil which nurtures the seed (Matthew 13:3-9). In another parable he compares the Kingdom of God to a mustard-seed, which is ‘the smallest of all seeds' but which, as it grows, develops into a well-established tree (Matthew 13:31-32). (See also Big ideas: Parables.)
Jesus also used the image of a seed to explain how his death and resurrection (see Big ideas: Death and resurrection) would have a significant impact on the world, resulting in the redemption of humankind (see Big ideas: Redemption, salvation). He explained that, just as a seed would not grow unless it was buried, so he had to die and be buried before his word could be spread: ‘unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds' (John 12:24).
Sowing and judgement
The product of a seed is also used symbolically to stand for the natural consequences of one's actions, both positive as well as negative. Paul warned that ‘people reap what they sow. Those who sow to please their sinful nature … will reap destruction; those who sow to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life' (Galatians 6:8).
Hopscotch with seas shells and whirlybirds in the air, singing weeee and swinging high swing high, flying free, landing barfoot in the grass
Cousins taking turns Counting to one hundred hands in sync, switching without missing a beat the ice cream maker's hand-crank keeps churing.
Walking with cousins Playing with friends, hoping summer will never end.
No school, outside and free, it is time just to be me. Gliding on the porch swing, a bowl in my lap shelling peas with purple fingers- I prefer to snap green beans, please.
Straight from the garden, a summer snack. Chores done, potatoes stored in the shack. Childhood summers make me wish for more, tree climbing, river-side camping on a sandy shore and so much more.
Entry for 1st Annual Kids Choice Kidlit Writing Contest 2022/ (Max -WC 200) Revised to full story.
All the Henderson children love to read except Rex.
Why Do Letters Move? Read ALoud-Never! by R Bronte Brown
The Eyes of a Dyslexic Child
Why Do Letters Move?
All the Henderson children loved to read except for one.
Rex Henderson hated to read aloud. Unlike his sister, his words slipped, tripped, and skipped over his tongue like jabbering gibberish. Susie loved to read aloud. Her words flowed in seamless syllables of streaming sounds.
Each time he compared himself to her, his heart sank deeper into despair. His sister could read, but he could not.
Rex wished he could slash words off all the pages. Then, there would be no more letters picking at his brain, and the pages would be as silent as a gentle rain.
Flustered, Rex snapped the book shut. “My brain hurts. My eyes won’t work. Why do letters move?” he sputtered. The letters giggle.
”Who’s that?” Rex demanded.
At that moment, a quirky character named Memes emerged from the pages, crawling out with an air of mischief. Memes stood atop the book, dressed like a sailor with a floppy bandanna tied around his head, baggy striped pants, and a cheerful checked shirt that seemed to dance as he moved.
“I’m here to be your first mate,” said Memes. “We letters can be a rowdy bunch, but we need a captain like you to guide us through this story.”
“Me, be captain of these letters? They're never still; they are always hopping about. They are a flip--flopping mess.”
“If you sound out their names, they’ll snap into place,” said Memes as he encouraged Rex to join in.
Together they continued, “… b, d, c, f, g—come on,” Memes cheered. “Speak up, h, i, j—.”
Rex called each consonant by name.
“These vowels are a troublesome bunch, never sounding the same,” Rex complained.
“Yes, they do flow here and there. But consonants like the bossy --r tell vowels how to behave like 'er' in ferret, 'or' in fork, ‘ir' in bird, 'ur' in turn or 'ar' in a pirate’s ‘Aargh.’ With practice, you’ll learn their names,” Memes smiled.
Memes handed Rex a script. “Read it aloud,” said Memes.
“Me!”
“You’re their captain,” Memes reminded Rex
“Laugh, and I’ll toss you off this page,” Rex warned with a half-hearted attempt to muster some bravery.
As Captain Rex began to read aloud, something remarkable happened—the letters snapped into their rightful places on the page. With each sound, they formed a steady rhythm, building a bridge from confusion to clarity.
“Why did the letters move?” he wondered aloud.
Not today, he thought..
Why Do Letters Move? The Eyes of a Dyslexic Child
All the Henderson children loved to read except for one.
Rex Henderson hated to read aloud. Unlike his sister, his words slipped and tripped over his tongue. They sounded like jabbering gibberish. Susie loved to read aloud. Her words flowed in seamless syllables of streaming sounds.
Each time he compared himself to her, his heart sank deeper into despair. His sister could read, but he could not.
Rex wished he could slash words off all the pages. Then, there would be no more letters picking at his brain, and the pages would be as silent as a gentle rain.
Flustered, Rex snapped the book shut. “My brain hurts. My eyes won’t work. Why do letters move?” he sputtered. The letters giggled. Before Rex could slam the book shut, a flicker of movement caught his eye. Out popped a tiny figure.
”Who’s that?” Rex demanded.
At that moment, a quirky character named Memes emerged from the pages, crawling out with an air of mischief. Memes stood atop the book, dressed like a sailor with a floppy bandanna tied around his head, baggy striped pants, and a cheerful checked shirt that seemed to dance as he moved.
“I’m here to be your first mate,” said Memes. “We letters can be a rowdy bunch, but we need a captain like you to guide us through this story.”
“Me, be captain of these letters? They're never still; they are always hopping about. They are a flip--flopping mess.”
“If you sound out their names, they’ll snap into place,” said Memes as he encouraged Rex to join in.
Together they continued, “… b, d, c, f, g—come on,” Memes cheered. “Speak up, h, i, j—.”
Rex called each consonant by name.
“These vowels are a troublesome bunch, never sounding the same,” Rex complained.
“Yes, they do flow here and there. But consonants like the bossy --r tell vowels how to behave like 'er' in ferret, 'or' in fork, ‘ir' in bird, 'ur' in turn or 'ar' in a pirate’s ‘Aargh.’ With practice, you’ll learn their names,” Memes smiled.
Memes handed Rex a script. “Read it aloud,” said Memes.
“Me!”
“You’re their captain,” Memes reminded, tipping his floppy hat.
“Laugh, and I’ll toss you off this page,” Rex warned with a half-hearted attempt to muster some bravery.
As Captain Rex began to read aloud, something remarkable happened—the letters snapped into their rightful places on the page. With each sound, they formed a steady rhythm, building a bridge from confusion to clarity.
“Why did the letters move?” he wondered aloud.
Not today, he thought WC 408
His words slipped – tripped – skipped- over his tongue like jabbering gibberish.
Her words slid in seamless syllables of streaming sounds. #HaikuSaturday, #haiku (excerpt from 'Eyes of a Dyslexic' short story submission by RLBrown
The Eyes of a Dyslexic Child
My brain hurts. My eyes won’t work. I can’t read anymore. Why do letters move? Be still, so I can read you. The letters whisper, don’t give up.
Jumbled Words. Letters flip and flop. Then they jump and hop. Why do letters move? Be still, so I can see you. The letters whisper, say my name.
Grumbled Sounds, And mumbled tones, Never sound the same. WHY do letters move? Be still, so I can hear you. The letters whisper, blend the sounds.
Teacher, Teacher! The letters are moving! Oh, no, that’s in your head. Why do letters move? Be still, YOU! The letters whisper, concentrate.
Taking Test Orally, I’m best. Squiggly scribbly letters Why do letters move? Be still, so I can write you. The letters whisper, yes, you can.
Read aloud! Nervous mistakes, Makes my insides quake. Why do letters move? Be still, don't laugh. The letters shout, keep going.
Every day, my teacher says, “You’re reading better today!” “Why did letters move?” Not anymore!
My brain hurts. My eyes won’t work. I can’t read anymore. Why do letters move? Be still, so I can read you. The letters whisper- Don’t give up.
Jumbled Words. Letters flip and flop. Then they jump and hop. Why do letters move? Be still, so I can see you. The letters whisper. Say my name.
Grumbled Sounds, And mumbled tones, Never sounding the same. WHY do letters move? Be still, so I can hear you. The letters whisper- Blend the sounds.
Teacher, Teacher! The letters are moving! Oh, no, that’s in your head. Why do letters move? Be still, YOU! The letters whisper- Concentrate.
Taking Test Orally, I’m best. Squiggly scribble letters Why do letters move? Be still, so I can write you. The letters whisper- Yes, you can.
Read aloud! Nervous mistakes, Makes my insides quake. Why do letters move? Be still, don't laugh. The letters shout. Keep going.
Every day, my teacher says, “You’re reading better today!” “Why did letters move?” Not anymore! I shout, hooray! I’m reading today.
Rex hated to read aloud. Words skipped, tripped and stumbled over his tongue like jabbering gibberish. Flustered, Rex stopped.
Susie loved to read aloud. Her words slid in seamless syllables of streaming sounds. Her correctness rattled Rex.
Susie closed the book. Torrents of confusion ceased; his heart sank in horrible comparison. Susie can read but he cannot.
Rex wished he could slash words off all the pages. Then there would be no more letters picking at his brain. The pages would be as silent as a gentle rain.
How many times have you started your day like you were already behind? Your list of things to do is long, necessary, and mundane. You pulled into the driveway on auto-drive and didn’t pick up the milk. In the Bible, there is a reference to people being like grasshoppers. The grasshopper never looks up.
Maybe today, you take a long way home and slow down, knowing your destination will always be there. Raising a family is for the long haul, but you are here right now. Give yourself permission to enjoy the ride, take time to look at your moments, and write them down.
Love your soul like thesoil loves the tree and gives it all the space it needs. (That is not my metaphor. It is by Dovan Beck; my niece, Chloe, sent it to me through FB) I’m borrowing his metaphor with a different application.
Colossians 2:6 speaks of being rooted in faith, growing in knowledge, and overflowing with gratitude- one faith, one hope, one Lord.
Colossians 2:6: Having been firmly rooted, and now being built up in Him and established in your faith, just as you were instructed and overflowing with gratitude.
God’s Word is the soil where we root our faith. The soil (God’s Word) loves the tree (me) and gives the tree (you and me) all the space it needs to grow. Give yourself permission to look up and take the rest your soul needs.
4 responses to “Permission to Love Your Soul like the Soil Loves the Tree.”
Sometimes it’s a matter of allowing ourselves to BE loved…
God asks that He may love my soul
as the soil doth love the tree,
to give me space that makes me whole
within His family.
But sometimes I can’t give that grace
to the God of all creation,
and turn from His tear-stained face
in silent protestation,
for I think I know me best;
I know what I have done,
and will not at His behest
(nor that of His son)
leave my dank and squalid hide,
my self-abnegating pride.
GIF/ Designed in GIPHY.com / excerpt from RasulRaumaVideo
Bumblebees, Honeybees and Wasp Tiny things that run the world, busy beats, their wings unfurled. Bumblebees love anther(pollen) threads blooming hues of blues and reds. Golden pearls spread all about, gathered by a little scout. Pollinizers-Flower Power Flower bouquets spread their scent, whiffs and swirls at spring’s advent. Orchard bees seek apple trees guided by a fragrant breeze. Bees create a honey treat- with lavender so pure and sweet.
The Butterfly Dainty things that run the world, silent beats, their wings unfurled. Butterflies from all around follow scents that hug the ground. Dancing-feet atop a bloom, search for nectar to consume.
Pollinizers-Array of Colors Flower clusters, vivid hues Yellows, reds but no blues, Flower seeds secure their worth, stretch their roots in fertile earth. Coneflowers and scattered seeds, are best paired with butterfly weeds.
The Hummingbird Swiftest things that run the world, Hums and beats, their wings unfurled. Hummingbirds need constant fuel. Brillant blooms attract this jewel. Forward, backward, upside down. These dashing fliers zip around. The Beauty of Pollinizers Golden flowers brilliant blooms Entice birds with shiny plumes. Blazing Star to Geranium, Coral Bells to Delphinium. Flower meadows, patchwork plots, Scattered seeds in local lots.
-let's sprinkle seeds in local lots.
11 responses to “Pollinizers and their Pollinators”
Today’s picture book market is very different from when I was a child. The book market is more selective. There exits an underlying pc culture. Very few publishers like in the past take direct submissions from new authors. So now you have written a children’s book, but does it cut the mustard (meet current standards)?
The first step is to compare your book to what’s currently written. Go to your library and read. Read in your genre, then read books out of your genre. But read current books. Water is Water by Miranda Paul is a perfect example of a nonfiction narrative that varies vastly from the expository/factual nature of picture books in the past. Books like I Talk Like a River explore the world of a stutter and address personal issues that kids face beyond friendship or bullying. So, read and find your mentor texts.
The second step is to know your craft before sending the query letter. Editors and agents get so many manuscripts that if they are not near perfect, they toss them. It’s like a resume filled with grammatical errors or false information. Research your agent, editor, or publishers. Make sure they are open to submissions in your genre.
The third step is to use the tools at hand. Microsoft Word has a review function that reads your work out loud. Use Grammarly or one such program to edited your work. Don’t pay someone like I did to take the extra space from behind the period when you can do it yourself. Crtl A copies, and Crtl H brings up a dialog box to make edits all at once.
Lastly, participate in a good critique group. Not an online, never see your face type but a Zoom group. It makes people accountable for what they say and why. A picture book must allow the reader to see for themselves what you are trying to say, not telling them what you think. For young readers, you are helping to develop their imagination. A mind free to think will imagine, reason, and then decide to act. (My synopsis line from a CS Lewis study with Hillsdale college.)
I will end by saying I had made every newbie mistake in the book by sending my manuscript out before it was ready. Take your time, learn the process, research, get your work ready, then submit.
Snow blanketed the landscape with deep, powdery white flakes. This was not the typical crusty flurries that barely make a snowman, but perfectly delicate snow so fluffy and light that it beckoned you to step out and play. The trepidation about a significant winter event melted away by a sense of wonder at the beauty of this rare snowfall. The air was filled with the crisp scent of fresh snow.
Birds swirled and swooped, forming a collective. A round of robins landed in the backyard. An echo of mockingbirds congregate on the limbs of an old River Birch tree out front. A conclave of cardinals sat along the fence row, as a cloud of blackbirds landed in the trees behind the fence.
It was a sight that piqued my curiosity- birds gathering in unusual clusters. Yet, they seemed to be ignoring the scattered birdseed. Why? The snow-covered ground was devoid of food, a rare sight indeed. It was as unusual as a fifteen-inch snowfall for hungry birds not to eat. This was fascinating to watch. Clueless as to why the birds waited, the answer came suddenly.
From the window, I watch a robin swoop in to catch a water droplet from an icicle in mid-flight. The birds were thirsty.
With their usual water sources frozen, birds migrated in flocks, searching for water. As I filled water trays and scattered them around the yard, I saw a bigger picture of nature’s workings. A simple solution to the problem was provided. Still, it was a rare moment to witness the shared struggle for survival in the face of adversity. The birds drank, ate, and then disappeared.
Even though I was clueless at first, God was not. Seeing a bird catch a water droplet in mid-air was fantastic and incredible. But more importantly, it was my clue to see the bigger picture.
Still, cold, frozen white icicle glistening.
Droplets drip amid a frozen field, Nature’s water fountain.
Haiku: Winter folds a tree- into a counterfeit death – Gray, bony, lifeless.
Photo by R Bronte Brown, Petite Jean Mtn
Sitting on the back porch swing, high in the Ozark Mountains, I feel the last remnants of the cool morning breeze wafting in. The deciduous trees that blanket the rolling hills vibrate with vibrant colors. White clouds hang in the pale blue sky, hinting at rain in their underbelly. Tree limbs sway gently in the wind, and leaves rustle momentarily before falling silent.
A red-headed woodpecker glides past, wings outstretched as it easily navigates the air currents. With slight turns among the branches, it soon disappears from view. Birds sing their early morning melodies, hidden from sight. From the clouds above, shaded areas dot the mountainside, providing a cool retreat from the day’s heat. As nature dances in the wind, life thrives in the warmth of the sunlight.
Yet, amidst this bountiful backdrop of life stands a stark contrast: a giant dead stick, gray, bony, and lifeless. Its haggard branches extend outward, out of place, and exposed. This lifeless form yearns for the dead of winter, embodying a facade of counterfeit death.
A Christian should not wish for a counterfeit life to hide behind when there is so much more to life. Discernment’s gift removes the hindrances by digging deep roots, growing in knowledge and understanding, and letting gratitude overflow.
An unencumbered mind can think clearly, look beyond the present moment, grasp reality, and recognize the pitfalls of empty philosophies. However, for this to happen, your mind must be clear and focused, looking beyond instant gratification to identify real dangers. Reason sharpens the mind; imagination allows you to see beyond what you know to distinguish subtle traps that may ensnare.
Freedom is the ability to think and imagine beyond yourself and act with forethought.
Jeremiah 17: 7-9 Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord and whose trust is in the Lord. He will be like a tree planted by the water that extends its roots by a stream and will not fear when the heat comes; but its leaves will be green. And will not be anxious in a year of drought, nor cease to yield fruit. The heart is more deceitful than all else and is desperately sick; Who can understand it? I, the Lord, search the heart and I test the mind…
brontebrown2 
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