Pentecost Sunday 2021
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Some years ago, I was asked to minister a poem for the last service of our annual Pentecostal Weekend Celebration. This was during a particularly dry season for me spiritually. I was filled with resentment, confusion and hurt over some serious church matters and I really didn’t know how to handle it. The pain and anger ran so deep that I did what some wounded sheep do. I retreated. Not from the church, but from God. My spirit went on autopilot and began going through the motions of worship and service unto the Lord and nobody knew the difference. Nobody but me. Nobody but God. The fact that leadership and peers seemingly couldn’t tell the difference only worsened my attitude and deepened the wedge between me and my deliverance.

Recently I read up on what sheep do when they face fear, hurt and danger. “¹When they are faced with danger, their natural instinct is to flee not fight. Their strategy is to use avoidance and rapid flight to avoid being eaten. A sheep that is by itself is vulnerable to attack.”
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I was ripe for the devil’s pickings and didn’t even know it. I was blaming God for the wrongdoing of others and running from the very one who could console, comfort, heal me and show me what to do. But even in my rebellion, God reached out to me through the request to minister a poem that weekend. My heart remained hardened up to the very day of the service. I had made up my mind to just minister one of my old pieces, but the Holy Ghost just wouldn’t let me be. After morning service, I left to go get something to eat but never made it out of the parking space. I sat in my car weeping and pouring out my heart to God in repentance and despair. And as I did, He refilled me once again. As I came out of the spirit, I asked God which old poem should I minister and He answered “Tell them the truth.” I picked up my pen and this is what I wrote:
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                          THE OVERFLOW

Poetricia Publishing © 2019

I took this selfie one year ago today in my doctor's waiting room. 
​
Three days earlier while leaving church, I went to greet a sister when she said, "Don't hug me, I'm getting over something." In protest, I countered with, "Aww, come on Sis, it's okay, gimme a hug!" I should have listened to her, but as they say, "Hindsight is 20/20."

​Twelve hours later, in the middle of the night, I was suddenly stricken with a dry hacking cough, a severe migraine, body aches, and a very high fever.

After feeling twice as bad the following night, that Wednesday morning, January 29th, I called my doctor and was given a 3:00 pm emergency appointment.  When I arrived, I noticed that there were signs everywhere stating that if you have a fever, ask for a mask.  When I told the receptionist my symptoms, she handed me a mask and asked me if I had been to China in past three weeks. I responded, "Unfortunately, no." (I've always wanted to go to China. Still do.)

I tested negative for the flu and strep throat (no other tests were being administered at the time). My doctor said I had a "viral infection" and that no antibiotics could be prescribed. He told me to “go home and let it run its course.” Go home? Let it run its course? Not only did I feel absolutely horrible, I was terrified. All of the symptoms lasted for a week, except for the cough, which remains to this day. 

As the weeks and months passed by and the stay-at-home orders were put in place, the world (well, most of it) adapted to a new normal. I don't know if I had the coronavirus or not (apparently I'm now ineligible for the antibodies test), but with each Covid19 news briefing, as I prayed (and still pray) for the patients, their families, and those on the front lines, I am always reminded that, “There but for the grace of God, go I.” 

Poetricia Publishing © 2021

If this year has taught us anything, it has taught us the principle of the phrase “stop and smell the roses.” A quick online search reveals that the exact quote came from The Walter Hagen Story, an autobiography published in 1956. The famous golfer’s full quote was, “You’re only here for a short visit. Don’t hurry, don’t worry. And be sure to smell the flowers along the way.” The passage was soon paraphrased to 
“Stop and smell the roses.”
 
Despite the pandemic of Covid19, being quarantined, and adhering to the many social distancing practices, I have somehow managed to smell quite a few roses in 2020.
 
The first and most important rose I smelled this year was the health and safety of my family. Most of us adhered to the Stay-at-Home orders, but a few were essential and had to go to work every day. Two family members had to travel by public transportation, Ubers and car share services. One couple was diagnosed with a mild cases of Covid19, and one older person had to be admitted to ICU, but God covered and protected us all and we were able to celebrate this holiday season with joy.

Another rose I smelled this year was the fragrance of goals accomplished. Namely, the publication of my eighth and ninth book. FIFTY MINUTES OF GRACE is a testimonial that’s been in the making since 2015. IT IS WRITTEN is a collection of old poems I’ve been working on since the late 1990’s. Both books reinforced the biblical principle I learned with my first book, A TIME TO WRITE, and that is, “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven” (Ecclesiastes 3:1). 
 
I also learned – and mastered – technology in 2020. I went from not knowing anything about Zoom, to using it every week (sometimes more than once). Teaching Sunday school classes to the young adults in my church; teaching writing classes for the local library; conducting poetry readings and author talks; and attending virtual family get togethers.
 
Now don’t get me wrong, 2020 also gave me quite a few “shook” moments. From the rapid global spread of Covid19, to the continued murders of innocent unarmed black men, to rioters looting and destroying innocent peoples businesses; to the more than 10 people that I knew personally who died from this horrible, horrible disease.
 
So although we have all been affected by in one way or another by this pandemic, like the golfer Walter Hagen six decades ago, as this year comes to an end, today I stop to smell the roses.

​And they smell divine.

Poetricia Publishing © 2020

Today marks the 5th anniversary of God miraculously saving my life. I wonder if some people are tired of hearing me talk about it. I wonder if they wish I'd just shut up and "move on." But when you almost die and live to tell the story, then that's what you do: you live and tell the story. So, I am here to tell my story once again.

On Thursday May 14th, at approximately 5:45 pm I suddenly began experiencing shortness of breath. For the next 50 minutes, as I struggled to breath, I prayed, cried, sipped cold water, took my hair down, and loosened my clothes, but it was still a struggle to breathe. Finally at 6:35 pm I called my brother to pick me up from work (yes, I was still at work) and take me to the hospital. As soon as we arrived at the ER, I was given oxygen, an EKG, and several tests. At first they thought I'd had a mild heart attack because there was damage to the right side of my heart. But it was later confirmed that I was suffering from acute Bilateral Pulmonary Embolisms or, multiple blood clots in both lungs. Later that night I was admitted to a room on the Cardiac floor of Jefferson Hospital, connected to machines that beeped all night and specialists who visited all day. I stayed there for 5 days and 5 nights while my body was nursed back to health. 

God has led me share this testimony in spoken word, here on this blog, and in testimonies in church.

Today, He has blessed me to share the full testimony, along with five others, in my newly released book titled "Fifty Minutes of Grace And Other Stories of God’s Undeserved Favor." ​

Click HERE to find out more. 

​Thank you for reading my blog. Don’t forget to leave a comment.

​For information about Blood Clots click HERE
For information about my church click HERE 
For information about Anthony Brown & Group TherAPy click HERE
For information about Ambassador Seed of Love Church click HERE 
​​
​Poetricia Publishing © 2020

                                      "I thank God for my every remembrance of you."
                                                                         Philippians 1:3

Memoirs With Seniors is the name of a program I instituted in 2016, but one that I thought of more than a decade before it actually came to fruition (2002). It is truly an example of that often-quoted scripture, “He will give you the desires of your heart.” First, God gave my heart what to desire, then He gave that desire to me.
 
MWS began with an invitation to a senior living facility through my Uncle shortly after the publication of my first book of poetry, A Time To Write. I was invited to conduct a poetry reading on Wednesday August 31, 2011 at Elm Terrace Gardens Retirement Community in Lansdale PA. Ever the poetic historian, to the surprise of several of the attendees, I mixed in some readings by Early American and Modern Poets like Helen Steiner Rice, Ben Burroughs, Maya Angelou, and Frances Ridley Havergal. The evening was a total success, but as much as I enjoyed reading poetry to the seniors that day, I was very hesitant to seek out another, closer facility, or even to contact that same facility again. Sure, since that night in Lansdale, I taught a poetry workshops at an elementary school, a recreation center, an arts center, and local churches in the Philadelphia and South Jersey area.  But it would be another two years before I would find myself working with seniors again, this time by way of another invitation.
 
On March 6, 2013, I received an email from a close acquaintance of mine named Frank Falzone. At the time he was the Enrichment Coordinator at Yardley Commons Senior Living & Retirement Community in Voorhees, N.J.  He was looking for programming ideas for the residents and invited me to conduct a book signing and lecture. I spoke on the topic My Life in Rhyme: Nine Writers Who Moved My Heart and Pen. Needless to say, the event was a success, and I was asked to come back on a quarterly then monthly basis. At the request of the Activities Manager, my presentations transitioned from poetry readings to a memoir writing class in June of 2016. That request not only resulted in three residents becoming published authors in a little over three years, it also became the launching pad for my next career move: becoming a freelance writing coach and publishing consultant.
 
This blog is not just a trip down memory lane, but a big “Thank You” to my Uncle Sonny and my friend Frank Falzone. God used both of you to help me achieve something that began as a dream back in 2002 when I left Verizon. Today I find joy in pouring over the manuscripts - mostly handwritten - of senior citizens who want to publish their memoirs. The thrill of helping them rekindle long forgotten memories, the pleasure of reading their stories, and the satisfaction of seeing those stories in print, is more fulfilling than I could ever have imagined. 

I started Poetricia Publishing 10 years ago today, but ​I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just purchased a new car and had decided this time I wanted a personalized license plate. I can still see myself writing down variations of the word poet: Poet4Him, HisPoet, HisPen, Poetess, Poetress. Then I wrote my name next to the word poet and there it was: POETRICIA.  How perfect. But one too many characters for a personalized license plate in the state of New Jersey. So, I put away the scraps of paper and life went on. That was April of 2006.
 
A few years later, in 2009, I had decided I was ready to publish my first book of poetry (A Time to Write). Prior to that decision, I’d done a lot of research on self publishing. When I was in the early stages of preparing my manuscript, I remembered reading that one step in self publishing included choosing a business name for your publishing company. Almost immediately POETRICIA came back to mind Poetricia Publishing was born.
 
Initially Poetricia Publishing would be the vehicle through which I would publish all the manuscripts I had been sitting on for the past 20 years. In my excitement I didn’t realize that my goal was “all about me”.  
 
As time went on, my vision refocused and “specializing in publishing services for the Christian minded poet” became my focus. My goal became assisting other Christian poets in creating print ready manuscripts of inspirational poetry. 
 
My journey sort of reminds me of Joseph and his dreams. In Genesis 37:5-11 we read of Joseph’s divine dreams. In the first dream he and his brothers were out in the field, tying up bundles of wheat when his bundle stood up and his brother’s bundles gathered around and bowed down to it. In the second dream the sun, moon and stars bowed down to him. Based on his father’s words we know that symbolically the bundles of wheat and the stars represented his brothers and the sun and moon represented his mother and father. Joseph’s dreams of greatness seemed to be all about him.  He was 17 years old.
 
Many years later – after he was betrayed, falsely accused, imprisoned, set free, and had forgiven his brothers – those two dreams were fulfilled, and Joseph was promoted second in command over all the land of Egypt. He said to his brothers, “you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, in order to bring it about as it is this day, to save many people alive” (Genesis 50:20). Joseph realized it was not all about him. I did too.
 
Today my vision is even sharper. While a few unpublished manuscripts of my own remain on my to-do list, working as a freelance editor, writing coach, and publishing consultant has brought me so much joy.  My company’s tagline sums it up like this: “I’ve written my vision. Let me help you write yours.”

​Poetricia Publishing © 2019

As the Sunday school classes made their presentations this year, like many adults who were in attendance, I sat back smiling and taking it all in. Once I was even moved to tears. Our theme this year was WISE MEN STILL SEEK HIM from Matthew 2:1-12. After the fourth or fifth presentation, I noticed a reoccurring theme developing. Sort of theme within the theme. It was WORSHIP. After seeing “His star” - the proof that the King of the Jews had been born, wise men followed it from the East all the way to Jerusalem, with one intention only: to worship Him.
 
That revelation made me look up other events surrounding the birth of Jesus Christ in the scriptures. I was looking for more instances of worship, and I found them. Mary’s song of worship after receiving the prophecy of His birth (Luke 1:46-55); the sounds of worship by the multitude of angels as they announced His birth (Luke 2:13-14); and the shepherd’s acts of worship after witnessing and testifying about His birth (Luke 2:20).  
 
All that happened before the wise men began following the star. But after Jesus was born, the scriptures said they saw His star, followed it to Jerusalem, and after a meeting with King Herod, they continued following the star until rested over the place where Jesus was. Historians say that by that time, Jesus was about two years old and scriptures bear proof of this in Matthew 2:11, referring to Jesus as a young child, not a baby, and the location where they were as a house and not a manger.   
More often than not, the portrayal of the wise men is usually centered around the gifts they presented to Jesus: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And much has been written about the spiritual purpose behind each gift: gold - a symbol of kingship on earth, frankincense (an incense) - a symbol of deity, and myrrh (an embalming oil) - a symbol of death.
 
Whenever the wise men are portrayed - whether on Christmas cards, film, or figurines - they're either traveling on camels or standing in a nativity scene holding gifts to give their King. Very rarely are they portrayed bowed in worship -and few times they are, only one is bowed. The other two are standing nearby holding gifts. Some would say their giving was an expression of worship, but take another look at the scriptures.
 
When the wise men arrived in Jerusalem and stood before King Herod, they said, “We have come to worship Him.” When they arrived at the house where Jesus was, the bible says, “When they saw the young child, they fell down and worshipped Him”. The next verse begins, “Then, after opening their treasure chests, they presented gifts to Him.”
 
Although they did bring precious, costly gifts with them to present to the King, their first thought was to present themselves in worship Him. They followed the star from the East, through Jerusalem, all the way to Bethlehem for one purpose: to worship Him. Not to receive a blessing. Not for fortune or fame. Not for healing, long life, wisdom, or favor. But just to worship Him.
 
A subtle reminder to us that regardless of what gifts we have to offer Jesus, our primary reason for coming into His presence should be to worship Him.

​Poetricia Publishing © 2018

​Earlier today I was part of a panel discussion at an event called SAVE MY SISTER PART 2 sponsored by PATHWAY TO GREATNESS, a mentoring program for youth in Philadelphia founded and directed by Lavon Howard.

Women from all walks of life were invited to share with middle and high school girls on the topic "I OVERCAME."

Equipped with the diary from my teenage years and my memoirs on overcoming both domestic and dating violence, I headed out to the event. I focused on the difference between surviving something and overcoming it. Below is a summary of what was presented:

​I remember it like it was yesterday. Being threatened in private and slapped in public. Being punched repeatedly because I said "No."  The night I tried to fight back but gave up and ran all the way home (over a mile) - from 21st & Van Pelt to 32nd & Euclid Street. The time he came to my job at the phone center store, threatened me in front of my coworkers, and how the elderly security guard, Mr. Smitty, came to my defense. Being threatened with a knife when I tried to break up with him and being stalked and harassed when I finally did.  It took my uncles and my father to make him finally leave me alone. 

Thankfully my horror story ends there. But if not for God's grace and mercy, it would have been different. Though my heart was far from Him,  God was watching over me, and protecting me even when I rejected Him. Is it any wonder I love Him so?

Years later, I realized that although I had survived dating violence, I had not overcome it. There were things I was still suffering as a result of that relationship. Inspired by God to write about my experiences, I published  The Writing Was On The Wall (Recognizing The Warning Signs of Dating Violence). My mission is to spread awareness about dating violence by sharing resource & referral information, as well as my own story of survival through poetry readings, workshops, lectures, and one-on-ones. 

If you are experiencing dating abuse text “loveis” to 77054,
or call the National Dating Abuse Helpline at (866) 331-9474
​or (866) 331-8453 (TTY).

Don't forget about these organizations: 
Women Against Abuse
loveisrespect 
Break the Cycle 
Stop Abuse For Everyone ​

​*I DIDN’T KNOW THE SIGNS
 
He was big and dark like a teddy bear
I fell for all his lines
I thought he really loved me
I didn’t know the signs.  
 
He showered me with affection
I was wined and I was dined
Jewelry, trips and all types of gifts
I didn’t know the signs.  
 
He was jealous of all my friends
He checked up on me all the time
I just thought he was a little possessive
I didn’t know the signs.  
 
The first time that he hit me
He quickly apologized
He even cried and his tears were real
I didn’t know the signs.  
 
When I finally tried to break up with him
He threatened me with a knife
I really didn’t think he’d use it
I didn’t know the signs.  

Next time around I’ll be careful
I’ll be patient and I’ll be wise
I’ll think with my head and not my heart
Because now I know the signs.  
  
Poetricia Publishing © 20​18

When I was asked to write something on the topic of redemption I readily agreed, thinking I’d write something quickly and be done with it. Much like we prepare for a workshop, I began with looking up all the definitions of redemption. The Archaic definition is “to buy the freedom of”. The Old French and Latin is “to buy back”. Listed among the more modern definitions is “to exchange (a coupon, voucher, or trading stamp) for merchandise, a discount, or money.
 
"In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace, which He made to abound toward us in all wisdom and prudence." Ephesians 1:7-8
 
Just about everyone understands the concept of coupons. From the ones you cut out of circulars to the ones you download online; from those that are 50% off, to the BOGO (buy one get one free) offers. Not to mention the Free/No Purchase Necessary ones (my favorite). No matter who we are, we all understand how coupons work.
 
"He has delivered us from the power of darkness and conveyed us into the kingdom of the Son of His love, in whom we have redemption through His blood the forgiveness of sins." Colossians 1:13-14

I remember the first time I posted a Valentine’s Day poem declaring my love to the world. Well, not really the world. It was more like the city. You see, decades Myspace, Facebook, Instagram and twitter, every year in February, the Philadelphia Daily News allowed you to ‘post’ a Valentine’s Day ad in their paper for all the world to see. It was the early 90’s and I was excited about reconnecting with this guy I had broken up with in the 80’s. It was all my fault, too. I had trust and commitment issues and they drove us further and further apart. But the year before, we ran into each other at a youth service and realized we both still had feelings for each other. I was so surprised that after all those years and how I had done him wrong, he said he never stopped loving me and that wanted us to get back together. He didn’t care that I was a single parent of twins, either. He said he’d accept them as his own and love them like a father. I was so overwhelmed. And realized I still loved him too, and had gotten over my issues of the past and was ready to settle down and, well, the rest is history. We’ve been together ever since. Anyway, below is an excerpt of that poem. I pray it touches you as it does me, even after all these years.

THIS LOVE   
 
I’ve found a love I cherish, 
Far more than words can say,
A sweet, kind and precious love,
That takes my breath away.
 
This love I can depend on, 
No matter what I’m going through,
This love guides and directs me, 
So I’ll know just what to do.
 
This love is an ageless love, 
It’s been here since the beginning of time,
From everlasting to everlasting, 
It will live on even after I die.
 
This love is a true love, 
It’s the love that saved my life,
This love is unconditional, 
It’s the love of Jesus Christ.
 

​Poetricia Publishing © 2017

                                            "I thank God for every remembrance of you."
                                                                              Philippians 1:3

​God used Shawn Morrison​ to cause our paths to cross in 2013 when she organized The Apostolic Poets Society’s, TAPS - The Apostolic Poets' Society​ event in Boston. You had a book signing, I taught a writers workshop, and together we mentored young poets for Christ that were in attendance.
 
But before we even met, I went online and purchased your first book, first book, My God, My Song, My Praise, and was in awe of your testimony, your gift, and your work as an author. You agreed to be a guest on my Christian poetry radio show for a live interview and reading from your three books, plus the fourth one that you were working on at the time.
 
To say that you were a real life hero in my book would be an understatement. Woman of God, mother, grandmother, retired teacher, poet, and Christian author. I soaked up everything you shared, both during the interview and at the event in Boston. You encouraged me during that session and afterwards. I shared with you that I had several not yet published manuscripts of poetry that I had yet to publish. You told me how God had blessed you to publish one book per year since your retirement, and that if you could do it, so could I.
 
I left the conference energized to get back on the wheel and continue my assignment from the Lord. That was 2013. Once home, I tried to follow the advice you gave me on how to do it, but at the time I couldn’t understand the program you used. I was so embarrassed and disappointed I let defeat win and promptly gave up. ‘I can’t’ became my inner motto, each time I tried to go back to the program to figure things out.
 
Almost three years later, my daughter Angella Middleton​, published her first, Life Lessons I Learned in Law School​ through the same operating system and also told me ‘Mom you can do it’. When she did, it was like everything you told me came back to mind, and something inside me just clicked and said ‘You can do it’.
 
So I sat down and got to work. That was January of this year. I had a goal in mind, and praise God this weekend I will am attending an author’s expo featuring my first book, plus FOUR additional titles. On top of that, three of my other yet unpublished manuscripts of poetry are scheduled to be released in November. TO GOD BE THE GLORY FOR THE THINGS HE HAS DONE!
 
JoAnn, I want to thank you for the seeds you planted. Angella,I want to thank you for the watering you did. And most of all, God, I want to thank You for giving the increase!
 
“I CAN do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:13

          "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. 
                   They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness."  Lamentations 3:22-23  

One year ago today a had a near death experience, but because of the grace, mercy, and faithfulness of God, I lived to tell the story. So that's what I'm doing, I'm living and telling the story.

About a year before "the incident" my pastor, Bishop Isadore Grant, Jr., preached a sermon on the topic "God's Preceding Word." It was all about how our tests and trials are often preceded by a prophetic word from God of  warning, direction, faith, comfort, or instruction. Often we don't realize at the time why the particular word is being given, but as circumstances begin to unfold, it becomes clear why.  I never forgot that message.

Two years prior to that message, on January 25, 2012, I posted the following words on my Facebook wall: "This morning as I meditated on grace, and all that grace is, the spirit of the Lord whispered to me, 'Every breath you take is grace'."  

​Fast forward to Mother's Day Weekend 2015. On Saturday May 9th, I'd been invited to serve as the guest speaker at a Pre-Mother's Day Luncheon at the Ambassador Seed of Love Church in Philadelphia. The theme was "Still Standing, Still Strong: I Don't Look Like What I've Been Through." I shared what the Lord had given me to share on the topic and we were blessed. On the next day, Sunday, May 10th, my daughter Angella took me to a Mother's Day Concert at the Liacouras Center in Philadelphia, PA. That night was the first time I heard the group Anthony Brown & Group TherAPy  (they capitalize AP as a way to remember their previous name, Answered Prayers).  I was so moved by the lyrics in the songs they sang, Testimony and Worth, that I immediately purchased and downloaded both songs. For the next few days, all I listened were those two songs - over and over and over again.  

Four days later on Thursday May 14th, at approximately 5:45 pm I suddenly began experiencing shortness of breath. For the next 50 minutes, as I struggled to breath, I prayed, cried, sipped cold water, took my hair down, and loosened my clothes, but it was still a struggle to breathe. Finally at 6:35 pm I called my brother to pick me up from work (yes, I was still at work) and take me to the hospital. As soon as we arrived at the ER, I was given oxygen, an EKG, and several tests. At first they thought I'd had a mild heart attack because there was damage to the right side of my heart. But it was later confirmed that I was suffering from acute Bilateral Pulmonary Embolisms or, multiple blood clots in both lungs. Later that night I was admitted to a room on the Cardiac floor of Jefferson Hospital, connected to machines that beeped all night and specialists who visited all day. I stayed there for 5 days and 5 nights while my body was nursed back to health. 

When I think about those 50 minutes from 5:45 pm to 6:35 pm when I did everything but call for help, tears well up in my eyes. I was told by the cardiologist that "you shouldn’t be here". That usually a patient like me "wouldn’t have made it". That I was "pretty lucky".  But rather than luck, I like to call it my ‘50 Minutes of Grace.’ During those 50 minutes, even though I was anxious and afraid, I never stopped praying. Even though I didn't realize it at the time, God's preceding word had already answered my prayers ("Before they call, I will answer" Isaiah 65:24).

His word had already gone out - God's preceding word - through the words the Lord whispered to me two years prior; through the theme I was asked to speak on; and through the lyrics of the two songs that had ministered to that whole week.  Yes,  God's word had gone out of His mouth - just like my pastor preached and just like the scripture says - His word "did not return to Him void but accomplished the purpose that He intended" (Isaiah 55:11).  And three years later to the day that word is still true. Every breath I take is Grace.  I am Still Standing.  I am Still Strong.  I don't look like what I've been through.  He thought I was Worth saving.  And I gotta, I gotta, I gotta Testimony. 

God has led me share my testimony in spoken word, here on this blog, and in an upcoming book entitled "Fifty Minutes of Grace: A Testimony of Survival". Keep checking this blog for the release date and continue to keep me in your prayers! 

“O give thanks unto the Lord; for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever.” Psalm 136:1-26

For information about Blood Clots click HERE.
For information about my church click HERE.  
For information about Anthony Brown & Group TherAPy click HERE.
For information about The Ambassador Seed of Love Church click HERE. 
​

January is National Mentoring Month and this is my story: After 20 plus years at Verizon, I spent almost a decade working on the administrative side of mentoring at risk youth. After that I spent another almost decade working in Christian radio. This past November I returned to the field of at risk youth, only this time I'm working on the other side: the front lines side. The side where I have direct day-to-day interaction and connection with at-risk girls of various ages, cultures, experiences and expectations. It has been challenging trying to get past their tough exteriors, the tests they put you through to see if you're for real, and the ability to know instinctively what to say, how to say it, and when to say it. However, what has become evident to me is that when it comes down to it, like all of us, at risk youth just want to be loved, understood and accepted. But because of life's circumstances, many of which they had/have no control over, how they express that is marred with the stain of their upbringing, their environment, and their lineage. 

Recently I found this picture of me and old memories surfaced of myself at their age - a church girl who got into smoking, bullying, and other very risky behavior. Inside I was angry, hurt, disillusioned and confused because of the lifelong secret I carried of growing up in an abusive household. Behind all my risky behavior, I just wanted to be loved. To be protected. To be safe. To be understood. To be accepted. 

So as I return from our holiday break, I pray for the strength and the grace to listen between the profanity, to see behind the anger, and to feel beyond the defiance. I pray that I remember that first and foremost these girls are souls, and they are precious in God's sight, and that He has allowed our paths to cross for a reason. I pray that I remember that I am called to love my neighbor and that these girls, in God's eyes each one of them is my neighbor. And while they are in my presence, I will do my best to teach them - with patience, determination and hope - how to respect, value and love themselves. Because God and me, we already do. And once they learn that, all the other lessons like life skills, social skills, tutoring, creative expression, etc.. will be just a little bit easier. 


For more information on mentoring visit:
www.nationalmentoringmonth.org
www.amachimentoring.org
www.chronicle.umbmentoring.org

​Poetricia Publishing © 2016

Last week after parking my car at work, a thought penetrated my brain. "Take your pocketbook inside today." I immediately answered and said, "No. Why should I do that? I never do that." (Because of the nature of my job, I always left my pocketbook in my trunk.) I jumped out of the car and went inside.
 
At the end of the day, I grabbed my coat, hat, scarf and gloves. Like I did every night, as I walked out of the building, I reached my hand inside my coat pocket for my car keys. Only this time, my coat pocket was empty. It didn’t take long for me to realize that when I got out of the car earlier that day, I put my keys in my pocketbook instead of my coat pocket. As a result, I spent 30 minutes waiting for AAA to arrive. All because I dismissed that earlier thought, “Take your pocketbook inside today.” While I waited in the cold, my mind flashed back a couple of decades when a similar thing happened.
 
We had traveled to Lexington, Kentucky for a church convention. One evening I was running late for night service and the elevator was taking forever. My hotel room was on the 20th floor. Even so, I decided to take the stairs. As I was walking towards the exit sign at the end of the hallway, a thought occurred to me. "Take your shoes off."
 
My response was immediate. "Why would I do that?" As I opened the door to the stairwell and stepped onto the platform, the thought came again, "You should take your shoes off."
 
I looked at the floor, the steps, then my feet. I was wearing light colored outfit, white stockings and beige Bellini pumps. I said, "I am not taking off my shoes and walking barefoot down these dirty steps!" With that retort, I quickly began going down the steps.
 
As I rounded the landing of the 5th floor, my heel got caught on the raised tread on the stop step. I tripped and plunged head-first down the steps onto the next landing. Stunned and afraid, I laid there in pain, crying, stockings torn, knees bleeding. I couldn't move.
 
Not long after, a group of young people from a sister church rounded the top of the same landing, looked down and saw me lying there. Immediately, they came to my rescue, picked me up, carried me to the elevator area of the 5th floor, sat me in a chair and went to get help. A couple of them waited with me until the ambulance arrived.
 
No bones were broken, but my bruises were bad enough that I had to wear a leg brace for the rest of the convention, and all the way home on the bus trip back to Philadelphia.
 
As I continued waiting for AAA, I realized that God was trying to show me something. I didn't realize all those years ago that those thoughts to take my shoes off were actually the voice of the Lord. But I answered back and dismissed it as a silly thought of my own. My response showed my pride and my lack of maturity in God. Had I stopped to consider the possibility that it may be God, perhaps I would have 1) walked back to the elevator on my floor and waited for the elevator; 2) took my shoes off; or 3) been more careful rounding each landing.
 
Jesus said, “Sheep know the voice their shepherd and a stranger they will not follow….My sheep hear my voice and I know them, and they follow me." (John 10:3-5; 27) The devil is always credited as being the stranger in this passage, but I have learned that sometimes this applies to our own voice, our own will, our own thoughts, and our own desires. That was a simple test for me, one that since then, I've taken and passed again and again. Until last week.
 
I had to ask myself when does one not recognize the voice of a loved one? When they haven’t talked to them in a while. When they’re in a noisy place and there are other voices clamoring for their attention. When they’re not listening. And when they haven’t heard the voice in a long time. We all fall short of God’s glory from time to time, but He  gives us gentle reminders and that's what last week was for me. A reminder to keep the lines of communication open between me and my Savior. And a reminder to stop and consider in certain situations, "Just where is this thought coming from?"

Poetricia Publishing © 20​15 
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                                    "I thank my God upon every remembrance of you."
                                                                         Philippians 1:3
  
On April 13, 2002, I put in my papers, took the early buy out package, and resigned from Verizon. I was ready to begin “Life After Verizon.” In addition to my dreams of becoming a published  author, I also had another dream. It was to have a poetry radio show. I even had a name for it: “Voice the Vision” (a spin on the name of my publishing company at the time, “I Write the Vision”). I wrote the down the dream about the radio show in a little notebook, put it away, and shifted my focus back to my dreams of becoming an author. Later that year I opened an online store with CafePress, Inc. and created a line of poetry products including calendars, post cards, greeting cards, and journals.
 
In 2006 I began looking for a part time job because I needed supplemental income. Wherever I went I always had resumes with me (I kept them in my car). By that same time, I had relocated to New Jersey and moved my church membership from Philadelphia to a church in Camden, New Jersey that several of my former church members also attended, including Dan Murphy.  
 
One Sunday we were all congregated in the parking lot after church just talking like saints do, when I mentioned that I was looking for a part time job. Dan perked up and said, “My manager is looking for someone to work a shift on Saturdays at the radio station.” You see, Dan had been working at 800 AM WTMR “Where the Master Reigns”, a local religious radio station for years. I gave him one of my resumes, and the next Sunday he told me that his manager said whenever I was ready, I was welcome to join the team!
 
Eventually I said I was ready and began training right away. Lo and behold, Dan was my trainer. During the evenings, after my full-time job, I would stop by the station for training to be a board operator. It was very challenging for me because although I had been behind the mic practically my whole life, I had no former training on the technical side of broadcasting.
 
I will never forget the night I came home from work and fell to my knees in prayer crying to God because I just couldn’t seem to retain what I was being taught about the studio equipment, the board, which knobs did what, etc. I was crying out to God in frustration wondering if maybe I had made a mistake. Maybe this vision wasn’t for me. I asked God what I should do. He spoke right back to me and said, “I opened the door.” That was all He said, but I knew what He meant. He had opened the door, my job to walk through it. And walk through it I did. I returned to the station  determined to succeed. And with God’s help, I did just that.
 
This blog is a trip down memory lane and “Thank You” to Dan Murphy. God used him not only to give my resume to his boss, but also to train me for that job. God turned my dream of having a poetry radio show into having a job at a the radio station. From 2006 to 2015 I created and hosted several shows, including three poetry/spoken word shows. I interviewed and showcased many Christian poets, spoken word artists, authors and even a few singers.
 
I am so thankful for the people behind the scenes in my life that God used to propel me to my purpose. 

SUGAR PIE, HONEY BUNCH
 
Fifty-three years ago, the Motown Sound boomed out a song by the Four Tops that would become one of the most popular songs of the era: Can’t Help Myself.  Walk up to just about anybody in any town in America today, and sing the first line, and you’re sure to find someone who will join in smiling all the way. The first four words “Sugar pie, honey bunch” are synonymous with quick movements, rolling of the hands, swaying back and forth and belting out “You know that I love you” with the best of them.
 
I felt the same way about sugar, pie, and honey buns. That is until that fateful year in January when I was told “You have Diabetes” by my primary doctor. In my 40’s for several years, I tried to make a point of making that annual physical, come what may. October of the year before, life finally let up enough for me to go in. Everything seemed fine. I was looked over and given the usual referral for the lab work. Well, life set back in and I found myself greeting in the new year with those referral forms still stuffed somewhere in my tote bag. Feeling more sluggish than usual, and a trip to Atlanta looming on the horizon, I finally went in on January 8th to get the lab work done. That was on a Friday. I honestly didn’t give it another thought until the following Monday when I received a frantic call from one of the receptionists exclaiming “You have to come in as soon as possible. The doctor wants to talk to you about your blood work.” This is the wrong thing to say to someone like me. I began grilling her, but she wouldn’t budge on the details. I made an appointment for the next day. Twenty-four hours later I found myself being introduced to a new doctor (my former doctor moved to Florida at the end of the year) and being told “You have Diabetes.”
 
No more sugar, pie or honey buns for me!

YOU KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU
 
That wasn’t all. This new doctor was just full of good news, wasn’t she? My cholesterol was also high. High enough to put me on a statin right away. Everything else she said would have been a whirlwind had I not remembered some wise advice my sister-in-law once told me. “Take someone with you because very often you won’t remember half of what you’re told. If you can’t take someone with you, then write down everything the doctor says.” She should know, she’s a nurse. So, there I sat, writing down everything this new doctor was saying, my head spinning the whole while. I was being signed up for nutrition classes. I had to see a Diabetes Specialist for a one-on-one consultation. I would have to stick my fingers several times a day to check the levels of glucose (sugar) in my blood. My life would never be the same. There is no cure for Diabetes. I wrote it all down, the AC1 levels, the LDL numbers, all the while mentally ordering the tears welling up in my eyes not to fall. I breathed in and out as I made my way past the reception area down the elevator across the parking lot and back into my car. There, the tears spilled. Fear, confusion and gratitude. Gratitude? Yes, gratitude. I did not have cancer. That was all I kept telling myself. At least I don’t have cancer. These diagnoses are things I can control. Just change my eating habits, that’s all. No sweat, right? I mean, I have no choice. And that is that.
 
Or, so I thought.

CAN’T HELP MYSELF
 
The few years were a breeze. Literally. I went to the classes, met with the specialist, began poking my fingers, reading everything I could get my hands and eyes on concerning Diabetes and Cholesterol. I began cooking, baking, and actually eating green food. I could do this! I even started losing weight! I shared my diagnosis with family and friends. My family showed their love and support in leaps and bounds.
 
Then little by little I began cheating. First at work, where no one could see me. Then in the car on the way home. First it was just the fried foods, not sweets, breads, or other carbs. But then I began cheating on those too. I stopped practicing all the good habits I learned and forgot all about trying to live a healthy lifestyle.
 
I was in deep-dish denial.
  
I LOVE YOU AND NOBODY ELSE
 
That was almost 4 years ago. My numbers and my weight have fluctuated greatly since then. But a health scare earlier this year made me finally face the facts that I am not that Stringbean sized teen age girl who can eat what I want and stay thin. I am a 50 plus African American woman with more than one health issue that must be taken seriously.
 
Today my numbers are fantastic! I’m 20 pounds lighter than I was when I was first diagnosed, and my smile is a whole lot brighter.
 
Almost as bright as the glazed icing on sugar pies and honey buns!

​Poetricia Publishing © 2015

​Poetricia Publishing © 2014

​How do we keep the faith in the midst of an economic crisis? Economic hardship may not be a strong enough term to describe what’s been happening in our country in the last few years. We have all heard the horror stories of foreclosures, repossessions, downsizing and the loss of insurance coverage. Many of us have experienced those horrors first-hand. We have witnessed companies being bailed out and individuals receiving handouts while we weather these storms alone, taking cover and waiting for the tide to change. There have even been tragedies by those who lost everything including their lives.
 
So how do we “keep the faith”? First recognize that this well-known phrase implies that you have some faith to begin with. Next, take a moment to reflect. Remind yourself that this is not the first time you’ve been in a storm. When looking ahead seems scary and unsure, momentarily looking back has its merits.
 
“I’ve been here before” is a phrase I had on repeat a few years ago. As a single mother working full time in corporate America and in the church, there were many times it was hard to make ends meet.  While in the storm, it may seem crazy to be so positive but hey, that’s how I “keep the faith”.  Whenever I faced financial famine, those four little words (“I’ve been here before”) reminded me who I was and where I came from. I was an Overcomer and I came from a place called Victory.
 
There was a time when my company went on strike and I was not management at the time. We received an allowance from the strike fund, but it came nowhere close to making up for our lost wages. As the strike entered the third week, I began to feel the pinch. With my children in school, and my shift of picket duty over I headed home. Once I closed the door my eyes filled with tears, and I began praying and crying out to God for help. After a few moments I heard the words “All your need.” I knew then that I would be okay. God was reminding me what Apostle Paul said in Philippians 4:19 “And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” Although we remained on strike another two weeks, God kept His word and met my needs.
 
It’s easy to lose faith when what’s in front of you today is so painful you can’t see tomorrow. In those times I encourage you to take a look at yesterday and remember that you can make it now because you made it then. Keep the faith!

Poetricia Publishing © 2014

Several years ago I was inspired to create a radio show called The Bridegroom Songs. The show features songs, scripture and exhortation around the theme that Jesus Christ is our Bridegroom and He is coming back again. I have often shared the testimony of where the inspiration for this show came from over the airways. Now I would like to share it with the Haven Highlights.

Sometime in 2008 I was at work preparing for a music segment that followed Bishop Todd’s Tuesday Morning broadcast. As he closed the message he began singing “For you I am praying, For you I am praying, I am praying for you.” It was an old song, but I knew it because I had heard for many years at Greater Refuge Church (32nd & Montgomery Ave).

God continued to bless me to find “like minded music” both traditional and contemporary. He also blessed me to expand the show to include scripture readings and exhortation as well as music. Over the years, as churches changed their time slots to better suit their ministries, the length of broadcast grew from 15 minutes to a full hour.

Who but God knew that a few years after that first broadcast I’d be a member of Christ Haven and Bishop Todd would be my pastor? Coincidentally, the first time I visited Christ Haven was in August of 2011. The sermon that morning, preached by Elder Fraser, was The Bridegroom is Coming. Isn’t that something?

From that first Tuesday until now God has truly blessed this broadcast. It has become one of our “staples”, and serves as yet another clarion call to remind all who tune to get ready and stay ready because Jesus Christ is our Bridegroom and He is coming back again. And it all started with the song “For You I am Praying” ministered by my pastor, Bishop Todd.  

To God be the Glory 

Pat Middleton, Morning Host, WTMR 800 AM  

Poetricia Publishing © 20​13
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Life lessons sometimes come in the most unexpected ways.

​One morning my left contact lens split in half as soon as I put it in my eye. I got the larger piece out, but the smaller piece floated under my eye lid, instigating a rather peculiar game of hide and seek. After praying off a major panic attack, I closed my eyes and focused on slowing rolling them around and around (the fact that I've mastered eye rolling over the years was a major help – LOL). As I continued rolling my eyes up, down, and sideways, I could see flashes of light outside my lids. Finally, I felt the plastic particle float down to the corner of my eye. When I opened my eyes, it came out with my tears.
 
Moral of the story: When something rips apart in your life and you’ve tried all you can to get the unwanted pieces out, panicking won’t help, but praying, crying and rolling your eyes upward will. Sooner or later those unwanted things will wash out with your tears.
 
​
                          “I will lift up my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from?
                               My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth.”
                                                                         Psalm 121:1-2

​Poetricia Publishing © 2013

QUESTIONS FROM A YOUNG WRITER
An Interview with Patricia Middleton by Nathan Aponte, 2012
 
NATHAN:
What is your definition of success and what determines whether or not a person has achieved that level of success?
 
PATRICIA:
"The meaning of success for me has changed over the years. When I was younger, success meant a high paying career, no financial woes, receiving love beyond measure, and my name in lights. Today success means setting and accomplishing personal goals, having a reasonable portion of health, giving love beyond measure, and most importantly walking in the purpose for which I was created."
 
NATHAN:
What influenced you to become a writer, and who are your current influences?
 
PATRICIA:
"I first began writing poetry at the age of fourteen, the same age I began keeping a daily diary/journal. I grew up in very tumultuous household and reading and writing poetry became an escape for me. It was a safe place where I could be calm, confident and comforted. My greatest influence then was Nikki Giovanni. As I grew older and my faith became the central focus of my life and my writing, my influences changed to Helen Steiner Rice, James Weldon Johnson, and the Holy Scriptures."   
 
NATHAN:
Are there any other forms of writing that you enjoy doing, such as journalism or technical writing?
 
PATRICIA:
"In addition to poetry, I write song lyrics, workshops on biblical principles and inspirational messages. I also really enjoy editing and proofreading for other writers. Journaling also continues to be something that I enjoy, although now instead of daily journals written in a 'Dear Diary' fashion, I have several different on-going 'theme-based' journals."  
 
NATHAN:
What was your background before you became a published author?
 
PATRICIA:
"I spent over twenty years working for a Verizon and five years working as an administrative assistant for a non-profit agency that mentored children of prisoners. Since 2007, I've been working as a Traffic Manager and Morning Host of WTMR 800 AM, a local Christian Radio Station in Camden N.J."
 
NATHAN:
What was the determining factor that led you to the decision to leave corporate America, start your own business, and subsequently pursue the true American Dream of the Free Enterprise System?
 
PATRICIA:
"My department was declared surplus, and we were let go. When I left, I had large and lofty dreams of become an overnight success in the literary world. That fantasy was quickly challenged as I discovered just how much work goes into pursuing your dreams. Re-entry into the work force continues to challenge just how much time and energy can be poured into my small publishing company, but I have learned that faith and patience are my strongest weapons in continuing to pursue and accomplish my dreams."
 
NATHAN:
What obstacles and challenges have you had to overcome to get to the level of success you are at now, and do you view your adversity as something that pulled you down or something that helped you and made you stronger in the end?
 
PATRICIA:
"If you had asked me this question ten years ago, I would have said being a struggling single parent, being a woman, being African American, maybe even being a Christian. But now I know that my greatest obstacle and my largest challenge is one word, and that word is fear. Fear of failure, fear of the unknown, even fear of success. Realizing that my greatest adversary wasn't a particular set of circumstances, but rather something from within was half the battle. Discovering what weapon to use was the other half. Faith became that weapon. Not only the set of beliefs that make up my faith, but faith itself: faith in God, faith in myself, faith in my dreams, faith in my writing."  

NATHAN:
What are your ultimate goals in life not, just in regards to your poetry, but general life goals as well?
 
PATRICIA:
"My main goals in life will always be intertwined in writing. To use my gifts and talents to express myself, to share my life experiences, to portray the love of God, and to encourage mankind." 
 
NATHAN:
How did you get published and who is your publisher?
 
PATRICIA:
"Poetricia Publishing: It's who I am and what I do. I decided long ago that I would self publish. Back then I didn't know what that really meant. It has been an exciting, educational, encouraging, and expensive journey, but I wouldn't have it any other way."
 
NATHAN:
What advice can you give to other aspiring writers/entrepreneurs that wish to reach your level of success and accomplishments but have limited resources?
 
PATRICIA:
"I would say that as you discover, develop, and display your natural gifts, talents, and abilities never forget that success takes time. Read the autobiographies of those you most admire. You will see that for many, that is the common denominator. I'll say it again: success takes time. I am no where near where I desire to be in terms of success. Also I would add the following: learn how to rid yourself (and your life) of hatred, anger, jealously, greed, unforgiveness and low self-esteem. Carrying these poisons (and being closely associated with others who carry them) will delay your progress and stifle your gift. If you think this cannot be done, think again. It can. Trust me, I know."     
​

Nathan Aponte is a poet and author. He wrote and published OPEN BOOK in June of 2008. It is available on amazon.com.

​Poetricia Publishing © 2012

​“Death and life are in the power of the tongue.” 
​Proverbs 18:21
 
It was such a simple gift. A bookmark. But it’s the perfect backdrop for this month’s blog, SPEAK LIFE. My sister gave me this bookmark to celebrate a new chapter I had just began in my life. After 21 years, I accepted an early retirement package from Verizon. Leaving the company was something I had been planning to do for several years before. I always said that when my children graduated from high school, I’d leave ‘Ma Bell’ and pursue my lifelong dream of becoming a published author. Little did I know that five months after their graduation (they’re twins), the company offer would offer early retirement packages to everyone in my department. I accepted, and the following April I was gone.
 
Wouldn’t it be great if this paragraph began ‘My first book was published six months later’? But, life doesn’t always work like that. I spent the remainder of that year traveling and setting up the perfect home office.  Not your traditional shopaholic, I must stay, purchasing office equipment was exhilarating. Every purchase filled me with glee - from my glass top desk from Ikea to small my metal mesh desk set (and matching trashcan) from Staples. Talk about Christmas in July!
 
My first trip that year was an adventure. I rented a car and drove from Philly to Richmond, VA to Charlotte, N.C. to Charleston, S.C. Each stop I stayed with family for three or four days. My last trip that year was to a writers’ conference at Sandy Cove Christian Retreat Center in North East, MD. What a joy! Even now I get chills when I remember how one workshop leader had everyone in the room stand up say “I am a writer!” over and over until we believed it. I left that trip with all the tools I needed to publish my first book. Or so I thought.
 
Life has a way of teaching us things we didn’t realized we needed to know. I went back into the workforce, first in an administrative job, then later in broadcasting. (Something else I always said I wanted to do.) I left Verizon in April of 2002. Six years passed before I actually began writing my first book. It was published almost two years later.
 
My first book, A Time To Write, was published on March 20, 2010. 

​Poetricia Publishing © 2010

Camden Welcomes in the Spring With New Author Patricia Middleton
 
Saturday March 20, 2010 was a beautiful day. The sky was bright and sunny and the temperature reached 72 degrees in the Camden / Philadelphia area. It was the first day of a very welcome Spring after a winter of record breaking snow storms. Never has the first day of a new season been more welcome. But March 20th was also the first day of a new season for local poet Patricia Middleton. It was the day she chose for the book release of her first collection of poetry, A Time To Write.
 
"I chose the date before the venue was even secured, something unheard of in the rules of event planning. But that prior November as I looked over the calendar for the coming year I realized that the first day of Spring was on a Saturday. That's when I knew March 20th would be the day. It fit perfectly with the subtitle of my book, "To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven" (From Ecclesiastes 3:1). I felt that nudging in my spirit that we sometimes feel when God is trying to tell us something. So I set the date and that was that."
 
Patricia felt that same nudging a few years before when she first visited the Walt Whitman Arts Center in Camden, the location where she held her book release celebration. A church member had invited her to  an open mic night at “The Walt” in downtown Camden.
 
"It was on a week night in early 2007 and the streets were deserted. The complete opposite of Center City Philadelphia, where I'm from. There wasn't much traffic and I didn't see any people walking around. But when I entered the building and walked around to take my seat I felt something. As the various spoken word artists came out on stage to perform, I started looking around at the stage, the walking area, the seating, the balcony and said to myself 'I'm going to have something here one day." Later on that year I briefly attended poetry group meetings at “The Walt” and became more familiar with the building and the area. I was even more sure that some day I would sponsor something there that had to do with poetry."
 
That was three years ago, but the seed was planted and that feeling became a reality on March 20, 2010. Patricia first called the Walt Whitman Arts Center in early December of 2009. As she suspected, the date was available, and she had no problems reserving the first floor for her book signing. The unorthodox method paid off. She had already set the date, but the venue was available just like she knew it would be.
 
"Anyone who really knows me knows I'm very particular about dates and I truly believe that there's something to be said for things that are “meant to be”. Nothing can change something that’s meant to be, and I believe those things are the divine will of God, things that God himself ordained and they cannot be altered or destroyed. For me, having the book signing on March 20th was one of those things. I'm very thankful to Pattricia, Mildred and the entire staff at the Walt Whitman Arts Center. They were all pleasant to work with and it was a great experience all the way around."  
 
The day went on without a hitch. There were bouquets of dried flowers, touches of bright green here and there, and warm welcoming smiles everywhere. Friendly hostesses greeted you when you arrived and pointed you around the room. First stop, the book sales area, where along with your book purchase you received a goodie bag.                      Next the author's table where your book was personally signed and if you liked, you could also have your picture taken with Patricia. The last table was the snack table, everyone's favorite. There, assorted italian cookies, chilled bottles of spring water and a variety of soda was yours for the asking. Once you visited each table, you were invited to settle in the auditorium with your copy of A Time To Write until Patricia's next reading. Some chose to read the book, others watched the ongoing slide show presentation, and some listen to the live music and guest poet performances until Patricia made her way to the stage.
 
"There's a saying "It takes a village". Well, my family helped tremendously with this event. After listening to me pour out my heart about my dreams for years and years (and years), they didn't stop there. They manned the tables, took pictures, offered advice. They gave there time, talents, and money. My son couldn't be there because he was healing from recent surgery, but when we went to see him afterwards, there he was in his hospital bed, bragging about his mother who just wrote a book to all the nurses who came in his room. My daughter, who's also my business manager, put the day together with grace, style and beauty. Her excellent overseeing of this project made it the success it was. It was her suggestion that we do the day in "rounds" so that no one would have to wait too long for a reading. So there were three "rounds" of selling, signing and reading, so our guests could come in, get their book, have it signed, hear a reading, and then get back to their Saturday errands and appointments. By this being a family friendly occasion and such a gorgeous day weather wise, several guests purchased their books and went outside to sit on the benches of the spacious green lawns of the Walt Whitman Center and read their newly signed copy of A TIME TO WRITE."
 
Patricia is very comfortable on stage standing behind the microphone, expressing herself through poetry. Currently she works in radio, and is behind the mic on a daily basis. Her station, WTMR 800 AM (Where the Master Reigns) serves the Camden / Philadelphia area. She’s the creator and host of an on air poetry radio show called Poetic Praise where weekly she interviews authors of inspirational poetry and occasionally reads her own poetry as well. And she has a lot of material to choose from. She's been writing since she was 14 years old, and performing poetry in front of audiences even longer than that. 
 
"The church I grew up in, Greater Refuge Church of Christ in North Philadelphia, had an awesome format for Sunday School. Each Sunday after we learned our lessons, all the classes would come back together and each class would have to go up to the front of the church, in front of all the other classes, and one by one, each student had to stand up straight, speak in the microphone and say something about the lesson. For some of us, that was the beginning of our lessons in public speaking. Then, every Easter and Christmas, we were given holiday 'pieces' to memorize and recite during those special holiday services. My Sunday School teacher, Sister Ellen Pittman, always gave me the longest poems to memorize. That was the beginning."
 
Patricia’s voice is both soothing and powerful as she moves across the stage reading selected poems during her book signing. Each "round" of reading from her book, she shared personal testimonies and "the story behind THE RHYME" of the poems she selected. One highlight for her was actually reading the wedding tributes in chapter 4 of her book to two couples in the audience both married more than fifty years.
 
"It's always an honor to be asked to write someone's wedding poem. Whether I know the couple or not, I always ask them to tell me their story. How they met, how God bought them together, how they knew they were God's choice for one another. And then I pray. I ask God to give me the words, and He always does. I've written over a dozen wedding poems, but the two written for couples married over fifty years are my favorites, especially in this day and age. They are a living testimony that it is possible to have that lasting union called holy matrimony, and they are an example to those of us who've never been married to wait for God to bring you someone, don't try to do it on your own. I really enjoyed reading their poems to them. It was truly an honor."
 
Many guests compliment Patricia on the design of the book, the color choice and the cover in particular. They are surprised and impressed that she is both author and publisher. Many didn’t realize that she’s been an entrepreneur since 2002. Back then she formed her company, I WRITE THE which consisted of three tiers were Inspirational Poetry, Motivational Workshops, and Administrative Consulting. There were plenty of opportunities with administrative consulting and workshops but Patricia wanted to pour all her energies into poetry. So, in 2009 she revamped the company, changed the name to Poetricia Publishing, and directed all of her focus on her passion: poetry. She's received many compliments on the name Poetricia, as well as many inquiries into how she came up with that name.
 
"There's a funny story behind that discovery. It was around May of 2008 and it was time for me to renew my New Jersey vehicle registration. I decided I'd also like to get a personalized license plate, so I began doodling with the words poem, poem and poetry. I finally settled on Poetess, but I really didn't like it that much. It sounded too much like Prophetess, and I didn't want anyone to read anything into it. I kept doodling, and I really can't remember what made me write my name down, but as soon as I did, in the midst of all the variations of poet, poetry and poem, I just took the 'a' out of my name and put the 'oe' in, and BAM! There it was: Poetricia. I love it so much, and my only regret is that I didn't discover this name earlier. But, there is a time and a season for everything. I like to say Poetricia is 'who I am and what I do', sounds corny but it's true. And you'll find everything from workshops to original poems to poetry cafe's to publishing consultations at Poetricia Publishing."
 
As the day came to a close, many were asking Patricia what's next. Three churches have already invited her to come to their locations for book signings and readings, and she's very excited about that. It is also her desire to see her book on the shelves of bookstores both here and abroad.
 
"I have always imagined walking into a bookstore and seeing my own books on the shelf. For me that would be another dream come true. But I have so many people to thank for this dream coming true, beginning with my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Without him I am nothing. But with him, I am a published author. To God be the Glory! I also want to thank my family, friends and fellow church members for their your love, support, prayers, fellowship and encouragement. I pray that God continue to bless all I put my hands to do for His Kingdom. 

​Poetricia Publishing © 2010
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