See It When You Believe It

After watching the movie, Field of Dreams, with Kevin Costner and James Earl Jones the other night, I was reminded of a quote, You will see it when you believe it. I think that might be the title of a book written by Dr. Wayne Dyer.

Too often we use the opposite of that quote which is I’ll believe it when I see it.

This was the third time for me watching this movie simply because of the good vibes it produces from beginning to end, from the whispering voice Kevin hears and follows, to the wonderful baseball heroes of the past, to the selflessness of Burt Lancaster’s character, Dr. Archibald “Moonlight” Graham at the end of the movie.

Has it happened for you…something you believed in becoming a reality?

It happened for me with my book, “My Precious Life”. I had often talked about writing a book but lacked the confidence to follow through, until I heard that quote, You will see it when you believe it. And then I began believing I would write a book. A year later I held the book in my hand.

If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.” Matthew 21:22


From Another Realm

Shortly after the death of her husband, a friend turned on her radio and heard “Smile though your heart is aching, smile even though it’s breaking…”

Smile is song from 1936 when Charlie Chaplin composed the music for his movie, Modern Times, though John Turner and Geoffrey Parsons added the lyrics and title in 1954. It is now 2015 and this song is still being heard by those who need to hear it.

I’m including a piece from the Poetry section of my blog site to show how another song manifested itself shortly after my mother’s death. The poem tells the story.


“Who’s Sorry Now”
was her favorite song.
“You’ll be sorry when I’m dead and gone,”
she would bellow at her two girls for whatever reason.
Her life spanned fifty-nine years
of hard work and harder partying…
and then she died of a cerebral hemorrhage.
We were two sisters
detailing the aftermath of her death.
Sorting clothes, memorabilia, and personal papers,
we turned on the Telefunken stereo
to break the deadly silence of this once lively house.
blared from the old set.
We physically jumped!
She was dead and gone, and she had been right:
we were sorry.
Ann was our mother,
and she was bellowing at us one more time…
from another realm.