affiliates-manager domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /home3/rickstil/public_html/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6170affiliates domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /home3/rickstil/public_html/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6170affiliates-woocommerce-light domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /home3/rickstil/public_html/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6170parabola domain was triggered too early. This is usually an indicator for some code in the plugin or theme running too early. Translations should be loaded at the init action or later. Please see Debugging in WordPress for more information. (This message was added in version 6.7.0.) in /home3/rickstil/public_html/wp-includes/functions.php on line 6170Poems are two dimensional thought-notes that make music in your head.
I love the idea of greatness. I would love to be great–to be called up before throngs of people, to be heralded for a lifetime of something special. I revel in imaginary praise and adoration until I remember how badly it fits. I wear accolades like a four-year old strutting… Continue reading
In 1971, alone in a cow pasture, not far from Eastern Oregon College in La Grande, Oregon, I accepted the reality of Christ and surrendered my will to His. It was the summer of my senior year and for the first time in my life God was more than a… Continue reading
He walked into my classroom, poetry in hand, with his tormented eyes, spiked, black-dyed hair, black trench-coat over black shirt and pants, hiding a disturbing array of silver spikes and chains. He was a brilliant high school student in my multi-media computer class in San Jacinto, CA., in the fall… Continue reading
