Monday, January 30, 2006


By Marion Kelley Bullock

No, I don't really believe in love at first sight, but it has a neat ring to it. Actually, I believe love grows and grows and grows until it's full-blown and unbelievably beautiful. At least, that's what happened to me. When I first met Johnny, we knew we were interested in each other. We just didn't know how far that interest would carry us.

Well, it's carried us fifty-three years--today. And we're more in love now than ever. But that's not to say the road has always been smooth. There've been rocks along the way. We've stumbled and grumbled, but God has held us together.

My heart still leaps when he walks into a room. I feel a delicious thrill when he holds my hand or kisses me. He's my lover, my friend, my soul-mate, the father of my children. We want the best for each other.

I Corinthians 13:4-7 expresses it this way: "Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things." Amen.

Monday, January 16, 2006


By Marion Kelley Bullock

When my ACFW Loop started this thread, I automatically thought of my own beautiful Maine Coon cat. She has long hair, which she sheds with wild abandon. She often makes her demands in the shrillest of meows. True, she sometimes causes problems, but she makes up for them with her loyalty. I love my pet.

Laurie Alice, a fellow writer, said, "I love pets. They should be stroked and fed and groomed as much as possible...
And taken out."

She and other loopers go on to discuss rooting out "very," "just," "also," and other overused words. Aha! So that's what they were talking about, not my feline companion? You mean, I should comb through my novel and weed out the bad, awful, unnecessary words that hide amongst my beautiful sentences? I understand the need, but I love some of those words. How can I bear to part with them? It leaves a gaping hole in my heart--and in my manuscript. Still, if I must, I must. I make a list, and start deleting. When I've whittled my manuscript in half, again and again, I realize I don't have a novel anymore. What I've got now is a short story--a very short story.

I cry over my lost words, and eat some chocolate, which helps immeasurably.

Then I hunt my beloved pet, my cat, with all her peculiarities. I snuggle down beside her and listen to her purr. She soothes me and I resolve to keep her, stroking her and feeding her and grooming her as much as possible. And since she's the perfect pet, I won't have to take her out.

Monday, January 02, 2006


By Marion Kelley Bullock

Someday, when I’m perfect,
I’ll start to work on other folk,
Who seem to shirk their duties
And don’t fit in, quite,
With what I think they ought to do.

Till then, I plan to concentrate
On how imperfectly I rate,
And maybe one day
God will say, “Well done,”
As I walk through that pearly gate.