Yes, You Have to Talk to People

This is a short entry. There’s no scriptural references, because you can open nearly any page of the Bible and find this. We NEED to socialize. You may get saved while you’re by yourself, but to really carry out Christ’s plan for your life, you have to at least ATTEMPT to connect with people. 

I’m so bad at this, I have literally been standing in front of a copy machine and blurted out “LUNCH?!”  

But as the expression goes, nothing ventured, nothing gained. It’s gotten me laughed at a few times, but it’s resulted in some very good friendships, and some chances to spread the Gospel. 

You HAVE to people.


I haven’t written in the longest time, and that’s a cryin’ shame. I have one message for you:


I have been on the internet far too much and found it full of lies. KEEP THE FAITH, in a world that hourly twists the knife, that hourly tells you that:

  • You are being traumatized or victimized simply by having a body;
  • That one gender, race, or political party has ALL the answers and all the rest of humanity is lying;
  • That EVERYONE is out to get you;
  • That even the most benign behaviors in your neighbors are driven by secretly evil or racist/sexist/biased motives;
  • That propagating the human species is evil; that life itself is evil.

The amount of hate, evil,  lies, and unrest are at epic proportions today. Nobody’s even bothering to check facts anymore; if it’s stated, it’s accepted as truth, and that “truth” is propagated widely. 

There are things in this world that can convince you that HATE and DESPAIR are valid mindsets. There is a kind of mental gymnastics that will tell you that everything, no matter how awful or false, is true, fair, and good. The most monstrous people that have ever lived, felt their actions were justified. 

I don’t even know where I was going with this. But reject the lies, get out in the sunlight, keep the faith. 


  • Morgan Grace Hart

Whatever Ails You

Lying on my bed in agony

I see my Christ come to me,

Crawl toward me on hands and knees

From the corner of my bed;

Wraps me up in blankets and

in Himself,

Incubates my body in the searing

Heat of His Body & Heart.

Only our faces and feet are exposed;

He kisses the top of my head.

I know my sickness is of more than one form,

And I know that my body against Him

Hurts Him,

Pierces His Sacred Presence as venomously as a nail through His wrist.


through it all, 

the more my nearness harms Him,

The more tenderly He speaks to me of Love,

The more gently He touches my face.

He is spiritually spread now,

As dead as the TonTon cut open to shelter the body of Skywalker,

Yet still breathing, still suffering,

Still passing each drop of DNA 

Slowly, painfully,

From He to Me;

A soul’s dialysis: This can’t be rushed.

He fills the dark hours of night

With words of Love for me;

My panicked impatience of knowing

I can’t heal faster

He silences with a “hush”

And the touch of His Mighty Right Hand.

He does not take away my pain –

Nor does He claim to –

He rather transforms it:

Fills the intervals with light and hope,

Moves the bodily overwhelm

Away from panic, loneliness

into something new;

I learn to relax

In the arms of He who Truly Loves me,

Learn to trust Him in the lean hours When there is literally 

No one else to hang on to. 

– Morgan Hart