You cant make others Color Burst with Happiness...only God can.

I’m learning as I get older, that you can’t make people happy. Only God can make people happy like the flowers upon my countertop that are color bursted with glee.

I’m learning you can’t stop people from sinning...but, we can be disciples and pray. We can place caring carnations in a person’s vase, but it’s up to them to keep the vase filled with living waters.

I’m learning you can’t give people a picked flower, and expect them to find the joy within the simple beauty. Only God can give true joy that’s abundant like a bouquet ravished with red roses of true love.

I’m learning you can’t save a person from misery. Only God can shine the sun upon shadows that darken Sunflowers, bringing glorious cheer to a home.

I am learning...God gives bouquets of trueness and life and fills a person with joyous daisies 🌸

You make known to me the path of life;

you will fill me with joy in your presence,

with eternal pleasures at your right hand. - Psalm 16:11

#flowers #flowers🌸 #flowersofinstagram #dailydevotion #devotion #god #godisgood #joy #joyful #happy #happiness #happinessquotes #jesus #christian #christianquotes #blogger #faithblogger #faith #bloggersofinstagram #blog #lifeblog #life #blogpost #blogging #blogoftheday #brandyobanionbaudoinwriter

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"Memory Day" Memories

“Memory Day” Memories August 11 th , 2008 will always be etched in my mind. Why? Do you ask? That was the day the leading man in my life went home, my dad, Bob J. O’Banion. He was my encourager, support system, teacher, boulder, and most importantly, a godly leader. When you needed a hand, both of his calloused hands were there to hug, shake, and give you a pat on the back. When you needed Christian advice, his wisdom traveled from his can line to yours. With the can pressed against your ear, you’d hear, “God is the way, the truth, and the light.” He was a true definition of a man, a sovereign man. Integrity made him a humble guide through the Blueridge Mountains, the dry desert, and beyond. Love lined his face with deep canyon wrinkles. He sought and dug ditches to provide. The rooftop was his “day home”. Sun-tanned skin branded him a “sweat by the brow” toiler. Family sto...

Seasonal Change

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Climb the Rope of Hope

I have to admit, I’m feeling a dew drop of sadness today. I was supposed to go to a RV show with friends, but decided to stay home. Why did I stay home? I miss my dad. It’s been almost 12 years and I still ache for him. I miss his love and his godly guidance (I’m crying as I write this post). I couldn’t go trudge in and out of memories. I couldn’t go up and down steps of the past. My heart couldn’t bear the weight of camper-sized flashbacks. When I was growing up, we were a band of gypsies, as my dad called us. We traveled the highway and byways of America in our RV. We’d laugh and play games. We’d have conversations about God’s beauty. We’d bond as a family, as a God braided clan. That bond has made me grieve a hard grief. That closeness clamors my heart with the dad category of love. I don’t grieve on a daily basis anymore. The wounds of loss have healed. The scar is not as prevalent. But, the missing still resides. The missing still dews rosy teardrops. ...

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