Here you will read how God speaks to the writer:

Child, you are Mine. Relax. Listen. Wait. You are not here to write - creating from yourself - you are here to listen. As you listen, write what comes to you. There is no anxiety about capturing another’s word, so be my scribe. Write for Me, Child. -Father- Here are poems heard in the quietness of early morning by one willing to wait for the still, small voice of God. Here you will share the prayers, thoughts, and feelings of a grieving mother, a firefighter, a woman who lives on the streets of downtown Houston, a busy mom, a grandmother recovering from a fall, a police officer, a lonely person, a soldier with PTSD, and here with them, receive God’s answers.