From dusk to dawn
From dawn to dusk
Feeding a frenzy
For a lust to have more
When what you have is more than enough
The world is dying
There is no lying
Not everyone will keep trying
Where people are inspiring
Wake up you are feeding the belly of the fat pig
Does your neck not tire
From looking away for so long
Are you blinded by hate
While you shroud yourself with
The cloak of selfishness
Do you not seek change?
Or simply wish to keep
Breaking your neck
Put your head straight
Rise and stand up
March on for the end is near
Not nearly near enough for me
When I lay my head down for
My final rest
I am with you and only ask you to do your best
I’m the loneliest person around
Every single day is a struggle
Where is my eye for beauty
Has my vision faded so
I used to see the magic in it all
Now I see merely facets of fading pastels
I was once able to paint in my mind
The beauty we are all surrounded by
But now I must work harder
Because my mind no longer paints
Merely tries to just forget
The hate that makes man great
I see the destruction of the earth
Whom I love so dear
If beauty is In the eye of the beholder
I pray she holds me near
Encase me with your earth
Return me back to dust
This is my desire
Something that I lust
When one can no longer see the beauty
Blinded by my own rage
A rage against humanity
Isn’t it just the same
Love endures all lies all pains
But do not tell me you love me
And leave me alone all the same
Silly girl those are lies enflamed
For you are loved by your creator
God in Jesus name.
I loved growing up next to my Grandma and Grandpa Johnson. Before an entire village let me help them raise their kids, I would babysit my napping grandparents. Papa would be reclined on his brown recliner, to me it was his throne because even though he had a colorful past he was loved and that’s between him and God and belongs in the by and by. My grandmother was grace and beauty in living form. She had the hands of an angel because she created everything she made out of love. She usually fell asleep along with Papa working on one of her creations. I would sit on the floor practicing solitaire with cards or look through her magazines and see the world through what she chose to read. Her mother’s love never failed, never ended and stood the test of all ages and lives on in her children, all Mommas have this love for their kids, but a lot weren’t shown how to love. I cracked up every time my Papa asked for his cane I would try to bring him his Cookie Monster cane full of gadgets. I really wanted him to just honk the horn on it and use it but I would end up getting his plain cane with a hook on the end. I remember when there was no addition to the pink house and would sit in the back being so proud of Johnsons lake, it was pretty then. I grew up in love. That was my nickname love. And each Aunt or Uncle had a special nickname for me and I remember each one. My favorite part of the year wasn’t Christmas it was the end of the year. Where we gathered at my Grams and ate our traditional food on New Year’s Eve, talk about starting the year right. Gerd whatchya doin? Babysitting my grandma and grandpa. No matter how old I get I don’t say no unless I’m sick or unable to babysit because every time you make a baby smile an angel sends you a kiss from heaven. Every time you make one cry, God himself will cry with that baby. That is why I did my best to be the best babysitter in Unalakleet. I was raised in love. It literally took a Village to raise me. My Grandma gave the best mucks (kisses) because she was an angel on this earth. When I found out my mom balled her out drunk about my dad I was mad beyond understanding, I gave it to God. To me they are both love and a mother can only do so much and that’s raise her children in love to create a better world for them. After that I didn’t go see my Gram because of the likeness physically I share with my mom. I didn’t want her to think I was my mom. I watched my Grandpa pass away on his throne on this earth surrounded by love as he took his last breaths. I watched my Grandma pass away as she was surrounded by love singing Jesus Loves Me. I have the memories of a lifetime and they are mine. I keep the best ones to myself or they slip out in laughter. My Grandmas love will carry on just like my moms love. There was no hate between them only the question why. Why. We are the generation of healing and love. Our people endured all things hate and love and we still operate out of love. Love.
I’m the type of person who gets joy and happiness seeing others do well and succeeding. When it comes to people I love and care about, there is nothing less that I would want for them other than to see them doing well. If there is anything in this world that I can do well it is to be an encourager and a healer. Simply put, love all.
Christs Own REvolution. We completed our training course in Bethel. Our team was packed up and ready for our first missions trip to the reputable Hooper Bay. Don was our pilot on the MARK plane. As if destined to defeat any obstacles from the start what seemed to be a hiccup was more of a blessing. As the airplane was accelerating for take off, the pilot window, yes the cockpit pilot window, opened. Suddenly we are taxiing back to the hangar just as we were about to make it the left engine completely failed. The wait was worrisome as they fixed the same craft that hours ago, if not for a strange miracle, would have had engine failure just after lift off. We didn’t have much of a choice but to trust the mechanic and through prayer we flew on. Hooper Bay was to be one of five villages we would spread hope and love and the lust for life and joy in our savior Jesus. Mark and Jeff were the interim pastors living in Hooper back when it was a one truck town. The descent was reminiscent of wolves circling their prey as the two Hondas approach our plane. When we came to a stop they circled us four or five times before speeding off. We were excited and I know I wasn’t intimidated, I felt brave, in my mind my comfort was “if they hurt me, He will heal me, if they kill me, I will be with Him.” After all, I was ready to change the world. Being in Hooper Bay was like traveling to another slightly known third world village. The shanty boardwalks added a rugged look. The suicide rate was high here, strings of deaths occurred at a time and time again, we were up against darkness that made a once powerful people feel hopeless. This was the first of its kind, a bunch of high school kids who had the same love for Jesus spreading the gospel to hurting villages. Our weapon of choice: a basketball. Go to any village… literally any village, in Alaska… no doubt, basketball is second to subsistence. Ok, basketball is a way of life in rural Alaska. We held tournaments, shared our stories, sang songs but most of all we were ourselves, we had fun and shared our love for life and that became, Lord willing, rooted in the hearts of God’s beloved children. I related to most, if not all, these girls here. I was a victim of sexual abuse. A voice is rising in our generation and nothing will silence it because it is time for healing and first He heals us through Him and we are able to be used to help heal others. It’s a journey we start from birth. It’s our destiny fulfilled by living a life of love. That was our mission to spread love. I felt the hurt. I cried myself to sleep the first night. The vividness of my dream, it was a revelation. I had to choose between two tunnels. The first was scary, it had roots hanging from the top, visible spider webs, and straight up looked like a animal dug it out. The next one wasn’t scary to me at all. It was simply a tunnel of red bricks, clearly man made. I proceeded down the brick tunnel and became sluggishly hot, perspiring heavily. It became dark before the fiery red glow started to appear. Oh man I made a clear mistake. I was going, literally, to hell. I turned the heck around and ran out as fast as I can. I have never been more scared in a more vivid dream until that day. I ponied up and went down the tunnel I thought was scary. I could see the light of the sun but more radiant, more bright. The songs of nature in unison. I felt gleaming rays of love and all my fears were washed away and I never felt more free, more happy. I awoke before slightly seeing the entrance of the exit. Glorious. I shared my dream in my journal. I wouldn’t have to do that because it’s one of many dreams significant to me that changed my life.
When the survival of our future generations is threatened, living our traditional way of life, a life without the need for over processed junk, we are two steps ahead. We will fight with every fiber of our being through love and understanding and we will lead a Nation back to peace and prosperity. We are the mothers of the children who will build a better world. Just as the seed of love was planted in my heart may it be planted ten fold for our future generations. We respect our land because we rely and live off of OUR land.
You are a vessel if you want to be one or not. What you do every day, every action or non action is what fills your vessel. There’s more to it than just that. Every thing outside your vessel impacts the inside. A hot burning fire causes a pot of water to boil over and rid itself of impurities. Once you have The light inside your vessel … or your fire that burns inside, it will never kumi (go out). Sometimes it just needs a gentle blow to re-flame, burn bright and spread. Sometimes it takes a world gone mad… a world in chaos to realize this. Become aware..become Awake. We Rise. We change and spread the light in an already very dark world. For what we call the dark side of the moon is light.
It’s the sinners that changed the course of history. Through the parables of Jesus and sinners He stopped to talk to and to heal but most of all to teach us how to treat others. We are all sinners who sin differently with the capability to change the course of the future by healing from the past. The wounds of the warriors are carried on through generations but the power of healing and love endures all pain and hurt.
People of all nations are given a chance to be God’s chosen people. The ways of the world leads nations to tumble and fall. Our heritage and values beat in the hearts of the indigenous people who will never give up our way of life. The men provide sustenance through hunting and the women raise her children in endless love and teaching of how to survive when food can not be caught. We turn to Jesus to heal that what was stolen. An identity in the handprint of God. Appreciating the land and the creatures who dwell upon it. Helping our elders and our children who cannot fend for themselves. A proud people who’s pride is not one of viscous cycles who seek to destroy the earth. We are the healers of the world because our ancestors taught us how to protect our land and values. Those are built on foundations of love. My soul awakens when the stick hits the drums and my heart pours out love when I see our young ones dance to the beats of our native tongue. I cannot grasp the beauty of our creator but I see what I see and I’m filled with wonderment. The heartbeat of my ancestors lives on through me. I could walk into the woods alone and flourish only because I was taught to do so by my mother. My respect for the land and our elders is never ending because it is every breath I take in humble gratitude for the struggles of those who went on before us. Without a shadow of a doubt our people know the one true God, who’s son is Jesus and the Trinity through the Holy Spirit. I am who I am because of my lineage and the scars of the past are ripped opened as to heal to cause the winds of change for our future generations. My people, our people, God’s people this is our destiny to stand in unison in love because that is who we are. Rise. Awake. The soul being inside of us is all consuming love when we accept Jesus into our hearts. A love that knows no bounds, accepts all creeds and nations and upholds our beliefs and respect for all.