by admin | Oct 11, 2020 | blog, Book Shop, Bullying, Civil War, Coronavirus, COVID 19, Dead People, Depressed, Grandmother, Heterochromia, Hope, Life, Love, Macmillan Nurse, Murder, Paramedics, Poison, Suicide, Talk To Someone, Teenage Crime, Thank you, Uncategorized, www.gllpublishing.com
♫♫ You are my LORD and SAVIOUR You are my GOD and KING I lift my hands to Heaven I lift my hands and sing . . . Jesus, come in To my heart Jesus, come in To my life Jesus, come in . . . ♫♫ Taken from – ‘Despite All Odds: A Dream Fulfilled part2 G. Lawson www.gllpublishing.com A Letter of Thanks to ABBA GOD Dear God, Thank You I may not be where I expected to be right now But I know that You are working things out for me And making a way where there seems to be no way Thank You I may cry at night, lonely and confused as to why I am still where I am But I know joy will come in the morning And You ABBA GOD will give me beauty for ashes Thank You My job, my finances, my weight may not be the best right now But my faith is growing as I read the Bible, Your Precious WORD every day And stand in hope knowing that all things are working for my good Thank You From your child – whose name is written on the Palm of Your Hand (In all things give thanks – Always have an attitude of gratitude) From G Lawson www.gllpublishing.com Lead me LORD Lead me LORD and I will follow Let me know where I should go In You ABBA God is my tomorrow In You is everything I need to know Lead my LORD – Here is my hand Lead me...
by admin | Jun 24, 2017 | blog, Bullying, Civil War, Hope, Life, Love, Murder, Slaves, South, www.gllpublishing.com
“I saw my father kill my mother” ‘Vinnie’ My Psychiatrist says I have ‘hate’ issues. He says to hate someone is to despise or detest them. I believe that to hate someone can sometimes be a cry for help that has been ignored for so long that the tears have evaporated and turned into bitter poisonous salt—I hate my father!I loved my mother. She had the most amazing personality and warm presence. She was my down-comforter, my angel, my favorite toy and then some. Even though there were always people in and out of our house when I was growing up, there were things that only she did for me. She would ask me what I wanted to eat when I got back from school and, when I got home from school, there it was. She would set the table and we would always eat dinner together. I don’t ever recall eating dinner with my father, then again, he was never at home. My mother would help me with my homework and make sure everything was okay with me and school was okay for me. You know, I don’t ever recall my father asking me if I was okay, or how things were at school. My mother and I said our prayers together nearly every night. If, for some reason, she had to go out with my father or over to her folks, she would call me to make sure we said our prayers together over the phone and make sure that I was okay. When I talked to her, she listened. She didn’t give me the ‘Ummm’ or...
by admin | Apr 5, 2017 | blog, Book Shop, Civil War, Depressed, Grandmother, Murder, Railroad, Slaves, Teenage Crime, Uncategorized, www.gllpublishing.com
CHAPTER 11 Do people know the day on which they are going to die? Do they wake up in the morning with a heightened sense of impending doom? Do they feel different in some way from the many other days of their lives? Do they feel more alert and more aware or maybe less alert and less aware? Grandma Teresa awoke on the 7th of August and, like all the other days since her grandsons had come to live with her, she felt happy. She was a slight woman with frail bones, due not so much to old age as to a poor diet, accompanied by years of anorexia nervosa, when she was younger. She was what many would call a woman of lingering beauty. At fifty-nine she still looked ‘catwalk’ striking, yet gracefully fragile. What Grandma Teresa lacked in her physical body, she made up for in her strong will and determination to help people. Her life over the past fifty-nine years held painful and joyful memories. The death of two young children from drug and alcohol abuse and the incarceration of a third child were the cause of the many furrows on her face. This was closely followed by the squandering of her mass fortune by two of her five husbands and the death of her first husband, her first love, an honest, hard working man, whom she always regretted divorcing. She could hear her grandsons and their friends talking in the adjacent room and smiled. Not only did she enjoy their company, for the first time in a long while she had people that took care...
by admin | Jul 31, 2016 | blog, Book Shop, Civil War, Hope, Life, Love, Railroad, Slaves, South, Uncategorized, www.gllpublishing.com
CHAPTER 2 March 1859 The railroad gets stronger and more and more people are escaping to the North and beyond to Canada. I have to be careful because there are spies everywhere. Mr. and Mrs. Williamson and their two children have left us and gone to New York. Some say that Mr. Williamson must now be regarded as a traitor because he has gone to join the enemy of the South. Their house was burned to the ground yesterday and a sign placed where it had once stood that read ‘here once lived a man who is no more’. There is growing tension all around and Papa says that we may soon have to move somewhere safer as he does not trust what is happening all around us. Mama wants us to go to Papa’s cousin in France. Papa has refused, he is the Church Minister for this area and he feels he cannot desert the people that need his Pastoral care. There is talk between my parents of a move to the west region of Virginia. This idea has not been dismissed and indeed a move may take place very soon. It is not too far from Papa’s parishioners and I hear an area not so severe, not so ponderous, in its decrees. February 1860 I have tried to write regularly in my journal for many months but with very little success. For some peculiar reason it has pressed strongly upon my heart to do so now. I hold no delusions of grandeur with regard my writing skills for I know that I am not much of a writer. Mama says my talking skills far outweigh my writing skills but I...
