Sailing Northward

Sailing Northward

Sail on northward, follow the plan.
Journey onward, over the deep
O, young boy, return a man.

Don’t look backwards, shore lights wan,
The fading shore, its cities sleep;
Sail on northward, follow the plan.

Childhood gone, its memories fan;
A new adventure, a mighty leap.
O, young boy, return a man.

Follow the stars, if you can,
Floating over the hidden deep.
Sail on northward, follow the plan.

Vast and wide, the oceans span,
Cross the deserts and mountains steep;
O, young boy, return a man.

Foolish fancies, forget and ban,
Honor, integrity, promises keep;
Sail on northward, follow the plan.
O, young boy, return a man.

Nascent Talent

My friend and fellow writer, Jan Ackerson, has an amazing skill of writing whole stories in just a few words -100 words, to be exact. She has written a whole book of these slices of life - 366 of them, to be exact, one for each day including leap year day. 

 Nascent Talent
My mother grinned as she handed me the container. “It’s all your papers and art from when you were little,” she said. “I thought you’d enjoy them.” A few afternoons later, I opened the box, interested in early samples of my writing. Were there any signs of nascent writing talent?
You decide—here’s a paragraph from 8-year-old me:

Fat Men
In my opinion, I like men. They look so funny and dieting usually doesn’t do them any good. When they try to squish into a tight suit they, are the oddest things I’ve seen. I like fat men. Do you?


If you enjoy tiny little stories like this, you can find 366 of them in Stolen Postcards, available here: 
You can also read new 100-words stories on Mondays and Fridays on Jan's blog: (100 Word Stories) Follow her on Twitter: @janackerson1
Or on Instagram: janackerson

I love that this short story was written by an 8 year old girl. Do you know any young person that is bursting with stories in their mind? Polliwog Pages is a place where youngsters can develop their writing skills and post them for others to read. 

 Splash in, and join the fun! 

Choosing a Birthday

Today is a special day. It's the birthday of my nephew and a special friend . . . but I chose April 4th to be the birthday of Phoebe, a young girl born in a little village near Albany, New York - back in 1800's, when the world was bursting with new inventions and discoveries. 

In the sequel, Going Home with Phoebe, Zeke and Phoebe help Maseppa to choose her own birthday - since she didn't know when she was born. 

Maseppa's Calf 

At the supper table, Phoebe chattered on and on, She grabbed a slice of bread and spread a thick coating of butter on it. “Zeke, Maseppa says all this isn’t for a birthday or nothing. When is your birthday, Zeke? Mine is April fourth, right?”

Zeke slurped a spoonful of soup. “I haven’t done nothin’ for my birthday, since I was a youngster. I was born on September twentieth, so today’s not my birthday. Zeppa, do you know when you were born?”

She cocked her head and looked from his face to Phoebe’s. “I do not know. My mother did not tell me.”

Phoebe wiggled on her chair. “You could choose a birthday, Maseppa! What time of year do you like?”

Maseppa looked at Zeke and then around her. “I think I choose the time of summer. It makes me feel happy to walk in the trees and listen to the birds and animals, to find leaves and berries and roots.”

Phoebe smiled. “Yes, that is the best time for you, Maseppa. What do you think, Zeke? Is she more a July or August person?”

His eyes twinkled. “I’d say Zeppa is an August person. Do you have a favorite number?”

“Number? I will say three. One for Phoebe, one for Zeke, and one for me. That is three.”

“Wooohee!” Zeke waved his napkin over his head. “I declare August third the birthday of Zeppa Ernstein.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.

Phoebe grinned.

Maseppa quietly smiled. “I have thought of a name for the new baby cow. It is the color of my mother’s dress. I will call the calf Doeskin. It is good, yes?”

“Perfect! It fits you and the calf, too.”  

   ~ ~ ~ 

To read more, you may purchase the book (here) 
or contact me for a signed copy.

To learn more about Going Home with Phoebe

Tout est Accompli

Sometimes I wish I could understand other languages. For many times, I have heard of how God has given to a certain people some phrase that is not in our English language - a word that gives more depth to God's great love and mercy. The words of our English language often seem too shallow and trite to express the greatness of God.

The many lessons of love and sacrifice at Calvary have been studied by theological scholars for eons, especially the words spoken by the Lord on the cross. The last words of Christ at that time were "It is finished." We understand that to mean that His work was done. He had obeyed the Father's will and taken the penalty for our sins.

In French, the words read, "Tout est accompli."
All has been accomplished, completed.

Somehow, it seems to mean more. It seems to show that everything that God had planned, from before time began, had been fulfilled.

All of it. 

All the sins, from eternity to eternity were paid and forgiven.

All of them. 

All the sacrifices on all the altars were represented by the sacrifice of the Lamb of God.

All of them.

Will we ever know the complete meaning of the cross? I don't think so. For how can we know the great gulf between God's holiness and man's sin? How can we fathom the knowledge of God becoming a man to redeem us when we didn't deserve it? How can we understand such love?

We need not - we cannot do anything to save ourselves. He has done it - He has done it all.

Walkin' On the Water

A victorious Christian life is experienced when God's power works through us to do the impossible. We can see the power of God perform things that we could never do alone. Have you felt this power in your life? 

Walkin’ On the Water

Have you gazed only on your Creator,
So that nothing else seemed real?
Did you forget the thundering and winds,
Crashing and whirling about?
Did you step beyond the walls of safety,
Consciously trusting your Lord?
Have you ever felt the thrill of walkin’, 
Walkin’ on the water?
Nothing is impossible when His power is within.

Have you faithfully stood for your Lord,
Doing the right amid the foes?
Did your heart beat with fear and faith,
Knowing others watched and laughed?
Did you bow your head humbly to your King,
Knowing He would see you through?
Have ever felt the peace of sleepin’,
Sleepin’ with the lions,
Walkin’ on the water?
Nothing is impossible when His power is within.

Have you spoken boldly for your Saviour,
And roughly tossed to the ground?
Did you feel the pain of stinging words,
Your name smeared with mud and scorn?
Did you wipe your cheek and try again,
Grateful to be worthy of Him?
Have you ever felt the joy of singin’,
Singin’ at midnight,
Sleepin’ with the lions,
Walkin’ on the water?
Nothing is impossible when His power is within.

Have you seen the things of this world
Through the eyes of your Redeemer?
Did pleasures, worries, and sins
Seem as dust as you looked to the sky?
Did you feel the power of His Spirit
Give you victory o’er temptations?
Have you ever felt the strength of soarin’
Soarin’ with the eagles,
Singin’ at midnight,
Sleepin’ with the lions,
Walkin’ on the water?
Nothing is impossible when His power is within.


Find this and other poems and short stories in this book, 
In Their Sandals. 
For more information (click here).
Contact me for a signed copy.



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