Tuesday, November 9, 2021



Jeremiah 17:10

King James Version

10 I the Lord search the heart, 

I try the reins, 

even to give every man according to his ways, 

and according to the fruit of his doings.

This was originally sub-titled: "What happens when the lights go out".

Now, that must be self-explanatory.

But will see what this story reveals.

For it was written in 2020.


I tried reading.

But I can’t seem to read anymore.

So, there lay my many books, covers unopened, pages unread, tossed in a growing pile.

Since I became a born again Christian, and started writing my own books, prodded by the Holy Spirit, I can’t seem to read other people’s books anymore.

I can only read my index card notes of Jesus’ words, and the Bible is the only book I open these days.

That’s how deep the Spirit has gotten into me.

I am a totally changed person, for sure.

There’s no electricity today.

Twelve hours of not using the internet, considering I’m a writer and online marketer.

But these things don’t matter anymore.

I even welcome a no-electricity day.

I always attribute it to God wanting me to do things differently today.

Perhaps, to stop online marketing for 12 hours.

Perhaps, so I can rest my mind and body.

Perhaps, to write another book.

I was hoping I’d read a book I got months ago.

They remained unopened on my desk.

Ah, but once I got hold of my index cards, with the precious words of Jesus in it, my mind woke up.

It was ready to roll.

Like, only God’s words can envelope me in its warmth.

Like, it was the only trigger I needed.

Must be, as I’m writing again, even as my laptop has only 45% battery power left.

And I don’t even have a title to this prose, yet.

But writing has become a compulsion.

I’ve been crazy about writing for 59 days now.

That’s close to a month of non-stop writing.

Well, I actually stopped for a week, at least, after finishing the 22nd book on 30 December 2019.

I let a week pass by.

Then, one day in 2020, a week ago, the writing fever took hold again, and I finished two books in two days, my first non-fiction books, after writing 22 short fiction books prior to that.

And now, in all likelihood, this will be the 25th book, without a title yet, but triggered by Scripture verses I wrote down, which really mattered.

Perhaps, the title of this book will be, “A Book With No Title”.

Wouldn’t that be weird?

Just because I have this compulsion to write, and loving Jesus’ words as I do, here I am writing non-stop again.

Well, at least, until the battery holds.

Before doing this, I was editing and “perfecting” my online marketing prose.

Now, they’re all perfect, and ready to go, once the lights come back on in a little over five hours.

I’m now over 400 words with this, soon as I started just minutes ago.

Though, I really know what God wants me to talk about now.

Not that I’m an authority on Scripture, but perhaps because I’ve taken note of the verses that matter.

I cannot boast I’ve read the whole Bible.

I’ve only read 10 books, out of 66.

I’ve focused on the four Gospels from the Apostles (focusing on the words and instructions of Jesus), the Books of Moses, Revelation, James, and scanned a few others.

But I felt, that those were the books that mattered for me, at this point in my writing life.

I know the title will reveal itself, as I keep writing here.

Funny, I usually start with a title, and the body produces itself, through the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

But now, I have the body, and no title.

Would that make a cool title?

“A Body With No Title”?

I’ll wait till God tells me that’s what He wants.


I can hear God’s voice?

I can’t quite explain to you the process, how God works with me.

And if He worked with you, I’m sure you won’t be able to explain either.

God is not a process.

God is.

He is the Alpha and the Omega.

The beginning and the end.

And everything in between.

The body of my work is God.

It is the Spirit of God in me, without which, my writing would be flat.

My whole being is infused with the Spirit of God.

This imperfect person is His tool to remind people of certain things about His Son.

Stuff that many have kept quiet or hidden.

Stuff that many have chosen to ignore or set aside.

But this imperfect person chose to scour all research, and find God’s Nuggets of Truth.

And when I did find them, and wrote them on index cards, only then was I ready to write.

God knew I’d do that.

He knew my thinking process.

He knew how I conducted my research.

He knew the tenacity and energy put into whatever I chose to do, on things or ideas that fascinated me the most.

And now, my flash drive patiently awaits the glorious title for this prose.

I’m nearly 800 words now and I haven’t a clue.

I find that refreshing.

I am normally “given” a phrase, which serves as title and sub-title.

Now, my heart directed me to the verses, writing the body here, and yet not touching the verses yet.

And, no title, to boot.

This will be a very interesting book, once finished.

Perhaps, God’s allowing me to write differently today.

Perhaps, I’ve earned a ribbon for being true and faithful.

Perhaps, God’s playing with me, teasing me into being.

I have a really good relationship with God.

I am playful with Him, and He is playful with me, too, judging by the dreams and impressions I get.

But that’s me, and things will be different for you, too.

And finally, the bug that startled me earlier, showed up, too, crawling on some papers to my left.

It didn’t look half as scary now.

Earlier, it clanked against my lamp.

And I whisked it with some cloth.

It looked really scary and ugly earlier.

Now, it found its way outside my window.

I had to evict the interloper.

I am writing and I can’t be startled by a crawling, jumping insect.

Still, no title.

Merely ramblings from a compulsive writer.

Maybe I have hypergraphia.

A little more about that on the next chapter. 

Chapter 1


“Hypergraphia is a behavioral condition characterized by the intense desire to write or draw.”

-- Wikipedia

I had no idea writing like a nut was a disorder.

Neither did I know that drawing like crazy was also a disorder.

Had something to do with epilepsy, they said.

So, that means, that at age eight, drawing as I did, I had hypergraphia.

And that writing as I did, at age 13, meant I also had hypergraphia.

How come my father, a physician-surgeon, didn’t alert me to my so-called disorder?

How come he often asked me to be his secretary and was even proud that I could draw, exhibiting a fine hand like his?

So, why do other doctors (thank God, not my dad) have nothing good to say about people who can just write or draw like crazy?

Would they also call the productive and prolific science writer, Isaac Asimov, hypergraphic?

I bet they won’t dare.

Perhaps, they’d also better not call Pablo Picasso, hypergraphic, lest he smash some canvas atop their heads, and declare, “Ah, now, that’s art!”

I know, I know, I’m being flippant.

Not sore, but flippant, and actually tickled.

That anyone would think a fast, crazy, and compulsive writer like me would have such a mental disorder.

Don’t they know that most artists are crazy?

Can you work with such zeal and passion, and fire and rage, if you’re a lukewarm kind of person?

Robots don’t have life.

Artists do.

And writers and illustrators are artists.

Never mind if they’re amateur.

Art is art, yes?

Fortunately, such things don’t bother me.

When you love words the way I do, such things are laughable.

Words are my toys, and I don’t need to go to Toys R Us.

Tell Ernest Hemingway he’s got hypergraphia, and he may just leave you in the bull ring.

Words are tasty morsels, you know.

True writers can’t have enough of them.

I guess the world’s full of hypergraphic people.

Check all the libraries of the world.

Check all the book shops.

Gaze with fascination when authors do book-signings.

Publishers, then, must be responsible for this addiction?

They allow the writer to keep writing.

And, readers are also responsible for propagating our disease?

Without readers, where would writers be?

And then, again, I’m not so concerned if people read my work.

I’m hypergraphic, remember?

I simply write, with no thought of readers, or royalties.

Same thing with my art.

I simply draw, with no thought of who’d like it, or buy it.

That also means, kids are hypergraphic, because they write and draw on walls, anytime, anywhere.

It is a compulsion.

Where I live, the mayor closed off the main streets on Sundays, so the children – or anyone who cares to – can write or draw with colored chalk on the asphalt.

And the stores that sell those colored chalk, further encourage our disease.

That makes the mayor and his staff guilty, too.

How can we ever be cured?

Never mind, what do I care.

I must write, or I’ll go nuts.

I can’t help it.

I write easily.

I write fast.

I write anytime Spirit moves me.

I’ve written 24 books since 24 November 2019, and this is my 25th.

So, in a span of 59 days, I’ve written 2.36 books a day.

Consider it two books a day.

I really must have hypergraphia.

Chapter 2


This “mental” disorder allows me to sleep only four hours a night.

Not that I need much sleep.

Writers who have something to say, just write.

We lose track of time, dates, or events.

We’re just so into the groove of things, happily ensconced in our little cocoon of a room.

We travel everywhere without leaving our seats.

We are probably the most stationary people, short of those in a coma.

Nah, couch potatoes, we beat you easily.

Now, my friends will be pleased.

Finally, there is a name to my disease.

My mom, especially, will be relieved.

She wonders what I do in my room all day long.

She wonders if I sleep at all.

She wonders where my work is.

I haven’t shown her any.

Perhaps, on the 100th book, I’ll show her.

For now, I’m only on my 25th book in 59 days.

Not counting the two blogs I’ve created.

And the previous blogs I have.

And the dozens of articles on all those blogs.

And all the dozens of blogs and articles I’ve deleted this year, thinking it’s not a good example of hypergraphia.

Nope, I must have more of that disorder.

I’m not working enough.

I’m not at my peak.

Shame on me!

Why did God give this gift and I’m lukewarm?

I must be on FIRE!

I must write five books a day.

Now, that’d be real hypergraphia.

I’d like to personally see the doctor’s faces as I write my books, not looking at my laptop, but at their faces.

My fingers busily typing away, the laptop catching fire, and my eyes glued to their clinical faces, freaking them out.

I know they’re good with words, too.

Doctors usually are. 

Don’t forget, I’ve had a doc dad.

Plus, he was a whiz at literature – even better than I can ever be.

And he had a brilliant brain.

He loved writing letters, too.

And he could draw well.

Was my disease hereditary, perhaps?

All I can boast about is I can write and I can draw.

I am fast at both fields.

I have a particular penchant for drawing the left eye.

Not just an eye, but it has to be the left eye.

I wonder what doctors would call that aberration?

But I can draw the left eye real fast, with pretty eyebrows, pupils, and lashes.

An eye that’s alive.

And yet, gentle.

So, I must have hypergraphia, as I love to write and draw.

But please, no cures.

I love my disease.

I’m not the best, but heck, I can write.

I’m a maniac when an idea hits me.

During the days of pencil and paper, I’d write.

During the days of pen and paper, I’d write.

During the days of manual typewriters, I’d write.

During the days of electric typewriters, I’d write.

During the days of electronic typewriters, I’d write.

During the days of laptops, I’d write even more, and faster.

When I had none of these at particular moments, I’d still find something to write on, lest the moment be lost.

Without a laptop some of the time, I’d still write.

The pen and paper were invented for writers and artists.

Just because you don’t have a typewriter or a computer, doesn’t mean a writer becomes useless.


I write on the backs of receipts.

I write on grade-school notebooks, for they have large spaces, and colorful covers, gets my writing juices going.

I write on any piece of paper that happens to be around when an idea hits me.

I don’t know when it will hit me, so I must borrow pen and ask for paper so I can write when an idea forms.

It’s just key words, really.

Or a few phrases or sentences.

A title of a book or article would be formed, just like that, and that’s all I need, for when I’d get home, I’d develop or explore the idea.

But if you ignore it, boy, you lose.

You’ve turned your back on Spirit, and you may not get lucky next time.

The only reason why I write like a nut is because I pay attention to EVERY word, phrase, and idea that I hear, see, or get an imprint of.

I don’t edit anything.

Shame on you if you edit before the idea’s even fully formed.

Spirit likes those who pay attention.


For now, just keep your body loose, your mind awake and alert – on receiving mode.

Don’t project, be quiet.

Don’t edit, just allow.

You’re not the boss.

Spirit is.

I guess, it’s Spirit who has hypergraphia.

I’m just a scribe.

I merely take down dictation.

Phew, what a relief!

Chapter 3


I’ve written about 2,351 words, and still, no title.

Although a few play around in my mind.

Strangest thing.

A book with not title.

Now I know the Holy Spirit’s playing with me.

It’s allowing me to relax all day.

Says I’d been working too hard.

In truth, I have been.

In fact, I was working so hard at online marketing, after having finished the 24th book a few days ago, and put it on Amazon, that I decided to create another blog.

A playful, relaxing blog this time.

With a marketing twist, of course.

Except this time, I focused on “coffee”.

So, I promoted a page on coffee traffic exchanges.

For those not familiar with online marketing and surfing, it’s a blog page sharing three sites where you can join, put in your ads, and surf.

You surf to earn credits.

You watch other people’s ads, you get credits, and you use those credits for your own ads.

Democratic marketing.

Except this time, I focused on coffee traffic exchanges.

I love coffee.

Especially the frothy, earthy, nutty type.

Perfect for my frothy, earthy, nutty personality.

I’m sure your type of coffee is who you are.

Are you a three-in-one?

Har har.

That’s the commercial coffee we have here in the Philippines, and in many parts of Asia.

A powdered mixture of coffee, sugar, and creamer.

I also like milk tea, except my favorite brand can’t be found anywhere anymore.

I must give them a piece of my marketing mind.

Unless the price of tea worldwide had gone up?

What do I really know about commodity futures trading?

Though, as a young upstart in the big city, I got into that, working in the tallest building then, and not really knowing what to do with tea, coffee, wheat trading.

To this day, I still don’t.

I don’t know about futures.

I only know the future from the Bible, from the prophecies of Jesus.

What other future matters, anyway?

People and commodities won’t be around when God says, “It’s time!”

That’s what I’m preparing for, thus, all the writing I do.

Twenty-two books on spiritual warfare – short fiction.

Two books on Jesus – non-fiction.

And this quirky 25th book – also non-fiction.

I knew that when I was done with the 22nd fiction book, that was probably the last of it.

Now, I’m braver, and need not hide behind fiction.

Now, it’s all me and Jesus.

No SCRIBU to hide behind.

I called my 26-year-old character, SCRIBU, to stand for “Scripture-Based Understanding”.

She’s my heroine in all 22 books.

And now, I’ve only got 30% battery power left on my laptop.

I still can’t read a book, even if I wanted to.

I just want to write, and write, and write.

For, it comes easily to me.

Hopefully, before the battery runs out, I’d have finished writing this book.

And I better have a title to it already.

Would you like to buy a book without a title?

Won’t it turn algorithms crazy?

Not knowing how to categorize it.

An ant lands on my screen.

That can get crazy when you’re writing.

I don’t want to follow its path.

I want to follow my words.

And another crawls over to the side of my laptop.

I’ve heard that they like the innards of a laptop.


They like the wirings, and motherboard?

I don’t eat while I write.

I don’t like crumbs on my laptop.

Only because I don’t want it to attract ants.

I don’t like my fingers sticky when I write.

I care for my laptop.

Works so hard with me, you know.

I keep my coffee away so I won’t spill on my laptop and damage it.

I’ve got respect for my main companion, as I write.

Actually, my main companion is God.

He’s the one that keeps me writing.

He won’t tell if I’ll earn.

He just wants me to write.

It really takes faith to work with God.

It seems He has no use for money, and I’m very alright with that.

That’s how your faith is tested.

And anyway, Jesus did say:

John 6:27

King James Version

Labour not for the meat which perisheth, 

but for that meat which endureth unto everlasting life, 

which the Son of man shall give unto you: 

for him hath God the Father sealed.”

Finally, I shared a verse.

I thought, the whole exercise of writing this book was to share those verses.

But apparently, the Holy Spirit wanted something different today.

How can I claim it’s the Holy Spirit?

Well, try writing 25 books in 59 days, and see where it’s coming from.

It’s not humanly possible, others would say.

Well, I did it.

Spirit and I did it.

Perhaps, our writing’s sweet.

Even ants and other insects visit us as we write.

Would people read what we write?

A few friends of mine do.

Other marketers do.

But I am a writer for God.

Well, at least, I volunteered.

So, there’s no stopping me.

Chapter 4


It’s so very true.

When the Spirit’s in you, there’s no stopping you, or the work Spirit wants done.

When I write, I just write.

I don’t think of the bills I have to pay, the errands I have to do, the online marketing that waits alongside this.

I don’t think, “Would people read this?”

Or, “Would people buy this?”

When Spirit prods me to write, we just write.

We leave the world behind.

Spirit wants me to focus on the Words of God, Scripture, Jesus’ instructions, the work I need to do each day.

Many days I feel right on track, for when I listen to the ministers on YouTube, I get encouraged.

I’m right on the path to Christ.

All that I’ve been laboring about, is exactly what they’re laboring about, too.

We labor, for there is no assurance people will listen.

We labor, for this is a thankless task.

We labor, for the path is not easy.

We labor, for there is no income here.

God and mammon don’t mix, you know that.

Serving God is joy and fulfillment in itself.

He will not promise you the world, for the world belongs to His challenger and usurper.

You also know that.

So, if you’re accumulating wealth, power, fame, prestige, likes, followers, and possessions, but not tending to your soul, oh boy, you’re in deep trouble, for when Jesus comes the second time around, you may not be prepared.

He’s given us many warnings, and I’m paying attention.

Precisely why I was drawn to read the Bible.

How else am I going to know what Christ wants?

How else am I going to know about the past, present, and future in God’s timing?

All the history books around cannot be compared to the Bible.

This is God’s Story.

“His Story”, as the ministers point out.

That’s what I’m paying attention to.

That’s the whole objective of all my writing exercise -- in fiction and non-fiction – to honor Jesus.

To move us all back to God, following Jesus (“The Way, the Truth, and the Life”), as we do so.

Christ is the Path.

Without Jesus, we’d all be lost.

That’s the whole theme of all my books – JESUS, and Jesus alone.

Only Jesus knows how to pray, and to worship the Father.

God has been very patient with all of us.

We have disobeyed his deliverers, and even killed the Savior, and His apostles and prophets.

What kind of people are we?

That really makes me think a whole lot, thus, the books I write.

And now, I only have 22% left in my battery, but I must keep going.

Mercifully, there’s still 22% left.

I take each moment writing for God, as precious.

If I stop, I’d lose momentum.

Just like in that other book I started, but left unfinished.

I couldn’t get back into the stream of it, after that.

I shelved it, and wrote a different book altogether – the 24th book – “6 STEPS TO JESUS”.

That’s a really wonderful book to read.

It has all the six steps back to Christ.

I found it as I read the Bible.

So, I took notes and wrote it on index cards.

Those index cards have largely guided all my 25 books, including this book you’re reading now.

A few index cards of Jesus’ most important words, and I am able to write 25 books.

Even I am taken aback at the volume of books and love in my heart.

And yet, I find that I can keep going, and going.

Maybe, until I’m gone.

What does a writer do?

Write, of course!

What else are we to do?

And I’m a scribe to Spirit, so I really have to write, when prodded by Spirit.

The Teacher of All Things, the Advocate, the Holy Ghost, has much to say.

I can’t just be saying those things, for all my works are based on SCRIPTURE.

I can’t write for myself anymore.

I can’t write useless stuff.

I can’t write senseless stuff.

I write valuable things from Spirit.

The battery’s about to give out.

But I can squeeze in a few more words here.

That’s how we write, Spirit and I.

When we write, we write – oblivious to anything else but the moment of dispensing Truth.

I merely take down dictation.

Spirit uses what I have in my heart, and intentions.

The Teacher of All Things uses what simple language I have, for I do write simply.

And sometimes, humorously.

God made me that way.

Soon, I’ll be reminded by my laptop that it’s on battery reserve mode.

At least, I got this far, Spirit allowing.

It’s time to rest, anyway.

I’d been writing non-stop for an hour or more.

And still, no title, hahahaha.

Perhaps, when the lights come on, the Light will come on.

For now, it’s daylight outside, nice and bright, the sun’s out, the sky is a lovely blue, the weather breezy and beautiful – so very perfect for writing this book with no title.

I didn’t realize it was possible for a book to have no title, with the body writing itself.

But, I guess, with God, all things are possible.

Maybe He’s waiting for me to figure it out.

I’ve been a soul sleuth for most of my life.

Perhaps, I’ll figure it out.

But you know what?

More often than not, it surfaces on its own.

That’s the coolest thing of all.

Chapter 5


Nineteen percent remaining.

Laptop says that.

I can squeeze in a few more words, pushing the battery to the limit.

It will be recharged later, anyway.

Spirit and I are still hot on the task of God.

No electricity, low battery power, ants, a scary insect – nothing stops us.

We just keep writing, and amusing God.

I know He laughs at my ways.

He knows I have a child-like heart.

He knows I know His Laws now.

He knows I do my best to follow those laws.

He knows I’m no longer ignorant.

He knows I like to keep that innocent spirit with Him.

Only a child-like heart can have such a capability.

Let not your hearts be too “adult-erated” by the world.

Make God your number one priority.

Make Him your supreme focus.

Of course, when you do that, you will turn your back on the world.

And that’s why not too many people surrender to God.

The worldly price is too high.

People are not quite ready to give up everything.

It’s awareness of the highest sort.

The world and God don’t mix.

Humans know that.

So, they continue about their lives, not wanting to make that “commitment”.

Well, I am committed to the LORD, the God, and Savior.

Nothing matters in this world but God.

I wouldn’t be on earth if not for God.

It’s not just my parents I ought to be grateful for.

It’s God.

Without God, there won’t be me, you, our parents, our siblings, our friends, our relatives, our co-workers, and everything He created for us.

God is the only real thing.

We are merely extensions of His Grace.

If not for the Grace of God, we won’t be here.

If not for the Grace of God, I wouldn’t be able to write, despite my difficult circumstances.

And I’m not talking about the absence of electricity, low battery power, ants, and the insect.


Something else.

A challenge I probably had, all my life.

It’s a test, for sure.

But that’s for another story, when I’ve got it all figured out, under the Grace and Guidance of the Holy Spirit.

Only by the Grace of God, do I exist, and am able to write this 25th book, which, I think, may be finished already.

Battery, ha!

We beat you to it.

Thing is, what’s the title?

I’ll get around to that later, for sure.

Titles are mere sign posts for me.

Well, I got to the path.

This time, without a sign post.

Weird, but that’s what happened today.

This is truly a day to remember, for a writer like myself.

A book with no title.

Maybe, that will be the title?

Though, I have a suspicion what it will be.

But I’ll confirm that later.

It will surface on its own.

What a strange book, this one.

I love how God surprises me.

For now, I better save my work, and let it all piece itself together later.

The main work’s done.

It’s as good as done.

Thank you for being here with me today.

I am honored by your attention.

And I am grateful.

Now, the keys are getting tough to strike.

It’s time to stop.

Writers must know when to stop.

Hypergraphia, or no hypergraphia.

There is peace in stopping.

Until I see you again!

Funny, as the lights went out, a book came forth.

Good use of time.

With Spirit, nothing is ever wasted.


The lights came on just now.

But, while waiting, Spirit led me to a surprise.

Not knowing what to do after battery had run out from laptop, and not wanting to read a book either, I decided to go to the basement, and in the process, “re-discovered” my essays from High School.

I had kept it all these years.

I was but 13 and 14 then, so that’s a good many decades since.

You could see how writing mattered to me even then.

Reading it, in the presence of my mother, we both laughed at my child-likeness and even childishness in those writings.

I didn’t realize my penmanship was hardly legible, even to me.

How much I’ve really changed!

But reading my essays, after so many decades, opened my eyes to how I was as a child.

And at how much I enjoyed writing, even then.

Having been sheltered all my life, writing essays was a good form of self-expression for me then.

Not many classmates cared to write, but I did.

I looked forward to such moments in school.

I really must have, as it’s rare for anyone to have kept their essay writings from High School.

Of course, I discovered many other treasures of my previous “research”.

Even as a young girl, I was already “collecting” information of all sorts that interested me.

So, I found folded pamphlets, and stuff I typed – like “types” of phobias.

Wow, I researched those, at age 13?

In a way, I was always documenting everything in my life.

I also took many photographs of people in the past, and that’s why I remembered people as they were.

What am I to do with these past writings, the stuff that documented my childhood, and thoughts?

Well, I’m thinking of putting it in a book, maybe the next book after this.

fter all, I did write them.

Maybe, I can encourage young people to write, or keep writing.

Never mind if our thoughts were funny then.

Who cares?

The important thing is you care what happens to you, and the world.

That showed in my writing, even at a young age.

I’ve always been that way, I guess.

There’s no hiding your personality.

Spirit took me to the basement so I may find my work, all over again.

The Teacher of All Things wanted to show my real gift – writing.

It had always been writing, through and through.

Whether I wrote in English or Filipino (my national language), my approach was the same.

I loved to write.

You could not distance me from pen and paper.

Those were pre-computer days, even as I did mention something about computers in one essay, and I thought that very strange.

That was in the mid-70s and I had not even seen, much less touched, a computer.

Those were probably the days of humongous IBM computers in large rooms.

But, I seemed to know what I was talking about in a futuristic essay.

You see, the teachers would give a basic “aim”, to guide us in our writing.

And we were to create a title from that “aim”.

I found my titles quirky, and sometimes a bit dramatic.

And sometimes, they were painfully corny.

And speaking of titles, I think I’ve come up with a title for the body of this book, har har.

Of course, as you can expect, and it’s inevitable, my next book will be my teenage writings.

And maybe, that will be the title, too.

Finally, I’m no longer title-illiterate today.

It had been elusive all day.

But, just as I expected, Spirit came to the rescue.

As the Holy Spirit always does.

But I’d like to thank you for being here.

Without you, there’d be no one to read my works.

Oh, but on second thought, surely, God already read it.

He created it.

So, that just makes us the reader.


Copyright 2020

YOU must have been CHOSEN by GOD

  John 7:37 King James Version 37 In the last day,  that great day of the feast,  Jesus stood and cried,  saying,  If any man thirst,  let h...