7 Messages in 7 Days

Two weeks into my new position as an assistant store manager, more specifically customer experience manager, I was scheduled to work seven days in a row.  One of my peers told me I couldn’t do it and I should switch my schedule with someone to have a day off in the middle.  I took it as a challenge and determined to work through it. Honestly, I was worried that my body wouldn’t hold up since each day I work puts a lot of strain on my feet and legs, a day off to rest usually helps. I decided to journal with the Bible each day to see what God might have to say to me.  I have a daily bible with the month and day portioned to read the entire bible in one year.  I began by turning to January 22 to begin. (Everything I type below is a summary in my own words of the things that spoke to me.  This is in no means a bible study. This is my testimony of God seeing me.)

Day 1

Genesis 39:2 

  • The Lord was with Joseph
  • he became a successful man
  • Joseph found favor in his master’s sight
  • Joseph got promoted
  • He was put in charge of everything 
  • the Lord blessed everything because of Joseph

Psalm 12:6-8

  • the Lord will guard us and protect us

Day 2

Matthew 14:22-31

  • Don’t doubt God’s visions or plans
    • Peter walked on water

Day 3

Psalm 14:2

  • God looks to see who is wise- those who seek him
    • that’s what I’m doing
  • God is with those who are righteous
    • trying to do the right thing everywhere
  • sinners frustrate the plans of the affected
    • Many people came against me at work today
  • the Lord is his refuge 
    • Prayed “Lord keep me straight”

Matthew 15:28

  • Woman, your faith is great-let it be done for you as you want
    • daughter healed instantly
    • I just want to succeed at my new job

Day 4

Psalm 15:2

  • The one who lives 
    • honestly, 
    • practices righteousness
    • Acknowledges the truth in his heart
  • can dwell with God

Day 5

Psalm 16:5

  • Lord you are my portion
  • my cup of blessing
  • You hold my future

Proverb 3:18

  • Those who hold onto wisdom are happy

Day 6

Psalm 16:8,11

  • I will not be defeated ON GOD!!!
    • because I keep the Lord in mind always
    • because He is my right hand
    • people told me xyz are trying to make me fail
  • You reveal the path of life to me
  • in your presence is abundant joy

Prayer: “On You, Oh My Lord, my eyes have been opened!!! Forgive me and create in me a pure heart, wash me white as snow. Please resolve …this issue with …please lift my countenance don’t let me crumble under pressure”

Day 7

Genesis 50:20

  • ​Man planned evil against me
  • God planned it for good
    • The entire week was attacks against me
    • the entire week I survived and never caved

​Psalm 17:3

  • ​I have determined that my mouth will not sin!!!
  • my steps are on your path


  • Maintain for your competence and discretion
    • I am able to succeed
    • I learned the value of guarding my mouth
      • not by anything I said but witnessed


On my two days of rest:
Psalm 17:8 ​​

  • ​Guard me
  • as the apple of your eye

​Proverbs 3:26

  • The Lord will be your confidence
  • keep your foot from a snare

In conclusion, I am constantly amazed at how God knows exactly what I’m doing and keeps me encouraged along the way. This is personal to me.  I’m sharing because there are some people who may need to be reminded that God is still very present.  Additionally I post so that I may remember.  Should I ever forget, I can always come back here and  see what the Lord hath done.

It’s hard to convey the emotions I felt while reading scripture each day.  Maybe it’s not meant to explain.  Just know, I believe and God is still amazing and doing great things in my life.  Praise the Lord Jesus! Thank you Lord!​​

Dive into Me

the evolution of intentional isolation
often leaves me floating in the shallow
oblivious to the rising and the setting sun

what starts as purpose fades to peace
desire for introspection wades at reflection
contentment rides the ebb and flow, no wake

consecutive rests induce willful rumination
ponders the depths and churns the memories
discovers growth, excitement churns alas

dive into me calls out the deep
dive into me, I long to be free

who is this that calls out to me
let me be
I'm content swimming in the shallow
it's predictable here
I'm certain to sustain peace

a conversation frequently had

even so, the darkness below pulls 
the deeper the roots the richer the soil
the fuller I'll grow

unless I dive into me
I'll never know

Lori Minutoli 12/27/22

Hair Baubles

A poem inspired by the art of Nafis M White entitled “All In”

She lights up the classroom

Bright hair ties like flowers

Balls of pink, yellow and white

Some big some small

She wears them all

My fancy friend

Done up so pretty

Now I got me some 

Wanna be just like her

Split my hair in two

Straight line down the middle

But wait, why is the elastic in two

How do I put this on my hair

Round and round and round it goes

In and over I did it but ewww

Maybe another one 

She wears two

Now they won’t stay

But I want to go play

Want to show my friend

My hairdo today

They just fell on the floor

I’m not pretty anymore 

I wonder how many colors she has

And why they stay in her hair

Maybe her mom can do my hair

Just like hers 

Maybe I’ll ask

What could she say

My friend said I can’t come over

Not to her house not today

Her mom’s real busy and G-mom too

One’s at the stove stirring a pot

One’s at the table mending men’s socks

Her dad comes home late

Uncle’s in the yard he’s working real hard

I handed my hair ties to my friend

She said they can’t go in my hair

She ran in her house and came back out

A ribbon and an elastic in her hand

Gathered my hair all in one hand

Piled it up high and tied it with a bow

Looked me in the face and said “pretty”

Let’s go!

©️Lori Minutoli 08/21/2020

Too Late To Ask

I wonder what she thought about while she sat at the narrow table attached to the wall in her galley style kitchen. Every morning she boiled water in a glass kettle on the stove and made coffee through a single serve pouch that hung in her cup. Wrapped in her bathrobe with slippers on her feet, she smoked a cigarette and drank her coffee while staring out the window of the door to the third floor porch.

I think of her often these days as I sit in my apartment alone and talking to no one. I don’t stare out any windows but I do sit and think. Lately about her. She had been independent for much of her life since her husband passed away when she was around 40 years old. My mother was only 11 years old then. They had house, a big yard, and a cemetery to care for when he was still alive. After he passed, my grandmother and mom moved to the city, to this third floor apartment where so many of my most precious childhood memories were made. Boci is what we called her, it’s Polish for grandmother.

My earliest memories of Boci were when I was about 7. We just moved to RI from Chicago and lived just a few streets away from her. When I would sleep over her house she would hug me tight while she slept. I felt so loved and yet spent every night trying to figure out how to escape her tight embrace.

Eventually we moved into the same house she raised my mom in and my parents became caretakers of the same cemetery. My memories of childhood are filled with both terrible and wonderful experiences. Boci was always one hundred percent wonderful. I miss her.

I wish I knew then to ask her what she was thinking about. I was so fascinated with the way she lived that every time I visited her or slept over all I wanted to do was learn how to be her. She had everything in its place. She had routines and never complained about how hard it was to do them. For instance, she lived on the third floor so she had to carry everything up and down by herself: groceries, trash, laundry, gifts, etc.

In her apartment there were unfinished rooms off to one side. The roof was slanted so these rooms were used for storage but not really because the beams were exposed and there was no lighting in them. In the room off her dining room was a narrow space she used to hang hand washed laundry to dry. She had buckets and shallow pans lined up in a row on the floor to catch the drips. I imagine she found it less burdensome to hand wash and hang to dry than to carry the laundry up and down the stairs.

She also used to sit in various places in her apartment throughout the day. After her coffee in the kitchen she would move to the wooden rocking chair in the dining room next to the phone. There she read the newspaper and kept in touch with her sisters and friends through phone conversations. Ah yes, she had a classic black rotary dialed phone. One phone in one spot of the house. I often think of this when I see people talking while multitasking out in public. I wonder if they even know what it’s like to just sit and talk to one person and focus solely on the one conversation.

In the evenings she sat in a rocking chair in the living room and either read a book or watched tv. Sometimes I would see her just rocking and staring out the window. I wonder what she was thinking about. She never complained or talked about things that may have bothered her. She always had compassion and understanding towards people. I remember asking her why so and so was acting a certain way. My heart begging to understand why people do bad things and she very calmly said things like “that’s just how they are.” She accepted people for who they were and loved them no matter what. I’ve always found that astounding.

Since I’m back in 1981 in my mind, I’m going to continue with these memories of Boci. In the evenings she would run a bath in her very tall claw foot tub. She had a space heater in the bathroom and used to set her pajamas on the hamper while she bathed. Ivory soap sat in a metal holder near the faucet clipped over the edge of the tub. She had her routines and this was no different. Before going to bed, she would lay out her clothes for the next day on a chair next to her bed. In the morning she would switch out her purse to match her outfit. She wore slippers in the house and only put on her shoes as she was heading out the door.

I’m glad I’m a writer because if anyone ever wants to know what I think about it’s here or in my books. It’s my gift to those who come after me. I can’t go back and ask Boci anything but I sure do wish I could ask her what she was thinking about when she was looking out the windows.

The Price of Beauty

Art by Ariel Cruz / Poem by Lori Minutoli

Lipstick smears across her cheek

Her tiny fingers can’t hold steady

Still she paints the required mask 

Bold eyes make men and women look

Plump red lips brings them closer

Smooth cheeks makes them touch 

Everywhere this is the message

From toddlers to teenagers

Models to mothers they all want this

Perfecting the mask becomes her life’s work

Hiding herself in an image of perfection

Deceiving her identity 

Criminalizing her authenticity

This violation of her born characteristics

Not a choice of her own doing

But a deception of her mind 

Society corrupted her mind

If Daddy had only validated her worth

If Mommy had taught her she was worthy

If boys weren’t programmed to lust

And girls not encouraged to tease 

She would be walking unmasked in her truth

Her smile would defy popular opinions

Her energy would attract sincerity

Her need for acceptance wouldn’t be

Her tiny fingers only wanted to play 

Mud pies and butterflies in Daddy’s eyes

Finger paints and silly string with Mom’s applause

Hugs and kisses just for  being present

But Daddy was gone long times in a row

So Mommy kept lipstick in her purse

The waiter, the trainer, the doctor too

Mommy’s mask made her happy 

Tiny minds just want to play

And see things a different way

Mommy was always happiest

When Daddy was  gone away

©️Lori Minutoli 2020


Art by Richard Goulis / Poem by Lori Minutoli

Chosen to be Condemned

Planted as seeds of desire

His curious mind entwined

In the idea of complexity

Wrapped in natural tendencies

Reaching for independence 

Striving to be free

They just wanted to be free

To grow naturally in their own beauty

But he weaved their limbs 

Together they grew

Endured every storm

Summer drought

Winter freeze

Embracing change

As they grew stronger

Images of love formed 

Hearts within hearts

His love for this art 

His design now complete

Cut off their life

Severed their feet

Forever entwined

Preserved for all time


Though life has ceased

Love remains

©️Lori Minutoli 2020

I Feel You

A poem about water.

I am energy


a constant force of nature


a vapor in the morning air

a mist upon the cedars

refreshment when you need it most

but when upon your skin I slide

warming from your body’s touch

I see the shimmer in your eye

pressed upon your wanting lips

a rush flows inside


it’s a vibe

Lori Minutoli 09/01/2020

Just Passing Through

Art by Shawn Christopher Martin /

Poem by Lori Minutoli

Do they know the terror  in the streets

Do they feel the agony in the cries

Or hear the last words of those who die

What of the gun shots or sirens

Flashing lights and toxic smoke

Do they even know at all

We stop to notice 

The colors of their wings

The gentle ways they pass us by

We photograph their elegance

Adorned with detailed lines

Fragile complex beauty passing by

Where are they going

What do they see

A flower or a tree

I wonder if they see me

I want to follow their lead

And wander to and fro

Take me to the green fields

Where wildflowers grow

©️Lori Minutoli 9/1/2020

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