Posts Tagged ‘work’

The evidence of things unseen.

The hardest part about faith is not seeing. It is a concept that by trusting the words that are spoken by God, who is Elohim (All Mighty), are so sure and true that they take on the same tangible, sensible aspects of hard, physical evidence. To out limited minds and spiritual awareness, anything that is not seen and touchable is difficult to believe. The state of Missouri gained reputation of being the “Show Me” state, because so many of the inhabitants would not believe something unless they saw it. Jesus was quoted in Matthew 12:39 as saying, “An evil and adulterous generation seeks after a sign, …”

A sign: hard, physical evidence


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While looking at other things, for other things, on my computer, I discovered that I have not posted anything here since October 2018. My last post then was me noting I have been with Word Press for ten years.

What this tells me is that I have been way too busy with other things to post here. Willickers.

In the interim, I have published three books. One on photography. Two that are fiction e-books available through Amazon Kindle. Oh, by the way, you can find my other books and e-books on Amazon by searching for “Dave Doc Rogers”. That is me. I have set up an author’s page and linked what I have published thus far there.


Cheers! Stay warm and have a great day!


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My spirit is full. My spirit and mind are full of hurt from seeing a people lost and a Church of hate. These things ought not be so.  (more…)

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Daily I wake.
Daily I see your face.
Daily I am amazed.
Daily you persisted, grace.

My friend you were.
My friend you became.
My friend you remain.
My joint adventurer, same.


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Poem: I Should Like To Write

By Dave “Doc” Rogers

© 20090322


I should like to write


‘Tis a proper English thing to say


I should like to write

A whimsical fancy, a childish foray


I awake from dreams of stories grand

Of adventures and quests, might of hand

Of perils and dangers, a hero’s stand

Pushing off bed my feet to floor land


I stumble to shower; heat, soap, wake

Dreams on hold, this the road I take

The office, the people, my heart ache

Reality hit, no time to make


The creative, delayed one more time

Swirling within, thought in mystic rhyme

Stories worth telling; to not, a crime

Dearest held at bay; pain felt, sublime


Money to be had, work is required

Labor in exchange, skill to be hired

Time given in compulsion now mired

Boards, the meets, the endless task list sired


To sit and retell stories well done

From rising to falling, the day’s sun

The pen and paper, my companion

Alone with my thoughts, working day one


I should like to write


‘Tis a proper English thing to say


I should like to write

A whimsical fancy, a life’s foray

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