The bird and her Father by usine Robin Powell NEUF

This gathering of words is not for hours of reading at a time.

Its a paragraph by paragraph, poem by poem, story by story kind of reading,

With ample time for thought in between.

Some of the writings are keyhole glimpses into my very private life. What you will read are excerpts of my journaling about specific situations. Full explanations have been completely left out, and that is not by accident. You dont need to know specifics, my goodness, you have your own to deal with - why listen to mine? Its not the severity of the crisis that is the focus. Its the work of The Christ in me (and in you) as He sees us through the crisis. I want to make sure that you see my Savior who buoyed me through each storm, Who aloed me through each fire, Who calmed me through each calamity. Who spoke to me in ways that I could understand. I have done nothing to earn it and theres no way to repay it. But He has graciously lavished His Presence into this waif of a girl child.

Both then and now.

This life of dust has been writing now for 50 years.

Thank you for reading my mud.