Shadowed by Love….

published 5/12/2024

A special tribute to my momma, that I wrote for her, many many years ago. She was my friend, my confident and my momma……


At 19, when I was born, my mom had already experienced more of life than most people who were twice her age. She had known the sorrow of losing siblings, experienced the divorce of her parents, barely knowing her father, and lived through a great depression, knowing the reality of poverty.

They lived on ration coupons. Their ration coupons for clothes were issued from a men’s clothing store. It fell their lot if they were to have shoes or coats, they had to be boys. It was at this time that there was an outbreak of lice and the only cure then was to shave the head completely. On Saturdays, my mom and her sisters were given a quarter to go to the movies, while gramma worked to support them. I remember Mom telling me of her dilemma of going to the restroom and standing there trying to decide to go either in the girls restroom looking like a boy with her bald head and boys clothes, or to go in the boys bathroom being a girl. She chose the later.

Ethel and Donnie

When she was 16, she was married and had my eldest brother; at 17, my second brother; by 18, my third brother; and at 19 she had me. Married with four children, we lived in a little “three-room” house. It had a kitchen, a living room and a bedroom with one small closet that only one of us could hide in at a time. We carried our water and we walked up the hill to use the bathroom which was outside. These were some of the happiest times that I remember.

Mom was not raised in a Christian home or with a religious foundation. Her Mom was Brethren, her Dad, Jehovah Witness and somewhere in between it all, the children were raised Catholic. But Mom knew something of the Love of God. When I had a headache or earache she would pray for me. When I was afraid at night, she taught me to talk to Jesus. Someone sent me little Bible Stories in the mail when I was young. You had to read the story and to answer the questions. and mail them back. My Mom would help me answer these, neither of us knowing the answer, looking up scriptures and struggling for the meaning.

As my Dad’s drinking continued; I watched sin destroy our family, and I watched as my Mom struggled through all the hurt and pain to keep us kids from being completely swallowed up in it. She pressed 24 dozen blouses a day in a steaming factory to provide for us, while a community judged and condemned her for not being there with us.

It was my Mom, who knew how much a box of hundred Crayola crayons meant to me. It was Mom who nurtured me through my shut-downs, patiently drawing me back out to a fresh hope. It was my Mom who taught me to look on compassion to those without, to reach out to the brokenhearted, to care for the hurting. It was Mom who taught me that my words could be too sharp at times, that trust is best placed in the hands of the right people, and that Jesus would always love me unconditionally. It was her faith in a God, that she said she didn’t know a lot about, that taught me to lean on Him and cast my every care. My mom was not perfect, and she was not religious in the sense we know it, but she knew something of the simple and pure Love of God.

When I look at my Mom’s life, I see mostly hurt and pain. But I have never seen her bitter. She was never bitter at her childhood. She could take the saddest memory and weave it into a story of overcoming. She took the pain of her failed marriages, never blaming anyone, never retaliating back, never holding a grudge. She forgave in ways that I’m still learning.

My Mom played games with us, shared with us, worked hard for us, stood by us and believed in us. She shadowed us with her love and I will be forever grateful to God for giving me my Mom who has impacted my life so greatly.

Copyright 2000—Marty Barth

Sounds of Freedom…

published 5/3/2024

Sounds of Freedom……

I love this time of year when you can sleep with the windows open. The nice cool breeze blowing softly against the curtains, causing you to snuggle down into the covers. Where I live, at the very tippy-top of a mountain, there is a peacefulness that settles on the mountain. I awoke the other day to the nostalgic sound of a train traveling through the valley below. It softly rumbled as it passed through, echoing its journey throughout the mountainside. Softly the horn blew, and then with a louder burst, to announce its entry through the town below, and then softly again almost as if an afterthought. It’s soft rhythmatic rumble lulled me back asleep again. The sounds of one lone morning singer awakened me. His chirp sharp and piercing at first soon softened into a melodic song. Shortly, others joined in, until a mighty chorus ushered in the dawning of a new day with their beautiful singing.

Such a beautiful way to wake up. My thoughts immediately went to the women that I would be speaking to that day at Muncy SCI (State Correctional Institute) in Muncy, PA. I couldn’t help think that they would not awaken to the sounds of beauty and freedom that I had. Yes, many will say, they have made their choices, and they have. Many will say, they must bear the accountability of their actions, and they must. Many will ask, have you forgotten the pain that they inflicted on their victims? And that is a NO! We must never forget the victim! But accountability and mercy, though strange partners, can walk together at times, hand in hand. One does not negate the other. I know that there are those who have chosen evil—for those-my message will not phase them. I speak to those who it will affect; to those who are sorry, to those who want to change, to those who may have never had a chance at life, who were broken and swallowed up into a life that they had no idea of how to navigate, to those who were never given the guidance and love to make good choices, to those who were given them, and yet unwittingly threw it all away in the foolishness of a moment. Oh, for God’s grace that can keep us all from falling, and oh for God’s mercy to pick us up when we do. My thanks to Melissa Wertman and the staff of SCI Muncy for arranging this event.

copyright 2024 mlb

Take It All Back….

published 4/25/24

To take back what has been taken from us wrongfully, is Victory. I was broken and shattered as a child from abuse–I rejoice in that God has restored all that was destroyed.

What was taken from you in your life, that you have conceded that it is gone? What brokenness hardened your heart, made you doubt your worth, shattered your identity, stole your hope, made anger your foundation instead of love? Haven’t you ever wanted it all back? Then it is time to take it all back. I will speak for Tabernacle Baptist Church on Friday, April 26, 2024. This is a phone conference with the group, The Family Prayer Table. All are welcome to call in at 12:00, at 605-472-5396 code 395806#. My thanks to Dr. Rev Arthur L Brown, Rev. Rose, and Benzenia Hart for this invitation.

Copyright 2024 mlb

A Helping Hand…..

published 4/24/2024

I read a sign the other day and it said, “It’s an accident to fall down, but it’s a choice to get back up again.” And you know, if we see someone fall, instead of thinking, ‘They should just get up’, or ‘They should’ve watched where they were going and they wouldn’t have fallen’.

Why don’t we reach out a helping hand, stoop down to their level and lift them up, never being afraid of getting our own knees dirty. We are our brothers’ and sisters’ keeper.

Was so blessed to visit the girls in prison on Monday. When I see the tears—I know God has touched them. When I feel the tears, I know God has touched me. My thanks to our team, Marilyn Nolte, Theresa Johnson and Wendy Buffington.

copyright 2024 mlb

Where Justice Can Make a Difference….

published 4/24/2024

I was at the Capital in Harrisburg, Pa on Monday in support of the “Victims Rally”. Sponsored by CVAP (Crime Victims Alliance of PA) and OVA (Office of Victim Advocate), there was a nice attendance in support of the many needs that still confront us in dealing with those who have survived horrendous loss due to no fault of their own. I have been going to these rallies for 9 years now and they can be very eye-opening.

Yes, we have come so far in helping those who have been victims of crime. But we realize also that we have a long way to go. It is no easy task to mix politics with great sorrow. And yet, unless we join forces, and hear the cry of those who have suffered, we are doomed for such offenses to continue. Victims, Survivors, and yes, even Victors, are not broken and weakened people. They are strong overcomers and conquerors. They merit a voice to be seriously listened to and heard even if their views differ politically with the ongoing social norms. The joy, I receive in going to these rallies, is getting to see people, that I often only see this one time of year. These are those who have lost a son, a daughter, a niece or nephew, a friend, to violent crime; those who’ve lost a loved one through domestic abuse, murder, rape, or other violent crimes. And yet they continue to press on.

Year after year. Never forgetting. Fulfilling a purpose. Pushing for legislation. Sharing their stories. Their loss being the banner to wave for justice, their tears being the power of strength, their passion causing others to listen. I couldn’t help notice that in the center of the rotunda where we gathered, the beauty of this building, especially the angels that stood majestically on either side of the steps, their arms held high and holding the light. So symbolic of the strength that carries us to also stand high and uphold that bright light of truth.

I also noticed as I left that day and walked down the many steps from that building that symbolizes the place where justice and truth should stand, some words that were written on those steps from many years ago. “God help us to preserve our Constitution and our Union.” Such a powerful message…may we never forget this when we gather there.

copyright 2024 mlb

Making a Difference….

published 4/24/2024

Writing my books, “The Shattering” and “The Shattering II”, will always be one of the things in life that I am glad God urged me to do. I wrestled with him about writing these books. I could not see then, why I should make myself vulnerable to the judgments and condemnation of people. In short, I couldn’t see the importance or purpose it would serve.
I asked God about this when I tried to wiggle out of the project. Why would I bring this shame and blame back on me? And besides, I argued, people who are abused don’t want to read about abuse, people who don’t understand the impact of abuse on a child don’t want to read this, and most certainly, the abuser doesn’t want to read about the devastation that they have caused.
I thought these were all good arguments to God-but his answer to me was~~ “It was never your shame and blame to bear. Your father threw the cloak of shame and blame on you with a cover of fear and guilt. It was never yours to bear.” And then in his loving way, he told me, “And I died to set you free from all of these. Write the books, hold your head up high and never let anyone make you feel this way again.” And so, like so many times in the past, I believed that still small voice. And like so many times in my past, he was right! The opportunity to talk, speak up and speak out and help others has been unnumbered throughout the years, since I’ve written the books.
To see the hearts and lives, they have touched, is my greatest reward. Many may not understand this, but I can only tell you that for me, it is a real experience. Was so thankful to be the guest speaker for SARCC-(Sexual Assault Resource and Counseling Center) at Monument Park in Lebanon, PA. My thanks to Ali Perrotto and her wonderful staff for this invitation.

Copyright 2024 mlb

No Longer Silent….

published 4/16/2024

“The greatest weapon that can be used against anyone silent and suffering is the ‘Shield of Silence’.”mlb It is in speaking up and speaking out that we are set free! No longer taboo, we speak out to bring awareness, prevention, and healing for all those, who for too long, have hidden the brokenness of their spirit under the shackles of their pain.

But wonder if we could be made whole? We can go from Victim to Victor!

I will be presenting my story on Thursday, April 18 for SARCC (Sexual Assault Resource and Counseling Center) at Monument Park, 8th and Lehman Street, Lebanon, PA 17042. Meeting will start at 4:00-6:00. All four of my books will be available for purchasing signed copies; “The Shattering”, “The Shattering II”, “Tony the Lonely Dandelion”, and “Amazing Grace-Heaven’s Light”. SARCC provides direct services of guidance and trained counselors, to over 1,100 sexual assault, abuse, and harassment survivors each year at no cost and confidential. My thanks to SARCC’s, CEO Alissa Perrotto for this opportunity.

copyright 2024 mlb

You Can………

published 4/14/2024

In my book, “Tony the Lonely Dandelion” there is a character called, “Mr. Gruff”. In actuality, he was my 7th grade teacher, Mr. Waggely. As children, he was not any one’s favorite teacher. I have found it so very amazing in the work that I am doing, of how speaking out impacts not only our lives, but the lives of others.

I was privileged to go back home to my grade school in a little town called “Wiley Ford”, WV and read “Tony the Lonely Dandelion” to about one-hundred students-from kindergarten to 2nd grade. It was one of the most precious experiences that I have had in doing this work.

To be able to read “Tony”, and share with the children, that they never have to let anyone tell them that they cannot be anything that they want to be, was a wonderful experience. The comments of the children were precious. One said, “I like it when “Tony” got picked to be the flower.” And one said, “I didn’t like it when they picked on “Tony”. One told us that he wanted to be an artist when he grew up. And when I asked, “And what are you going to say when someone tells you that you can’t be something that you want to be?” A little boy raised his hand and said very loudly, “I CAN!!!”. All of this made my heart just overflow.

One of the most profound things though, was, as I sat there reading my book to them, and listening to their input, I realized, there I was, sitting in the exact classroom (my old 7th grade), with my chair in the exact spot where “Mr. Waggely’s” (Mr. Gruff’s) desk sat those many years ago. It was here in this exact spot where he had called out my name and mockingly announced my test grade-”Layton, 98%, you must have lucked out, or studied awful hard.” He etched those words in my heart and made me determined to show him what I could do! And there I was, all these years later, in this very same spot, telling these children, “You can!!” My thanks again, to Ms. Paula Athey, her wonderful staff, and the children, for this invitation.

copyright 2024 mlb

We Can Go Back Home Again…..

published 4/9/2024

In 1940, Thomas Wolfe wrote a novel entitled, You Can’t Go Home Again, in which the main character says: “You can’t go back home to your childhood…back home to your dreams, back home to places in the country, back home to the escapes of “time” and “memory”.

But Thomas Wolfe was wrong….We do get to go back. I have been back to my home town many many times since 1972. Many things have changed—many things have remained the same.

I was going through my “memory box” the other week and ran across my first grade math workbook. I ran across my old “crown” some pictures from the “Maydays”. Many thoughts flooded through my heart and my mind in a collage of memories. I felt a smile cross my face, recalling the teachers, principals and children. I remembered how very shy I was back then. I cried every day that first school year. I had wanted to go to school so bad, to be grown up like my three big brothers, but I hadn’t counted on them going to their classes and me being left alone in a classroom of children I did not know.

On Thursday, April 11, 2024, I will return to my elementary school—Wiley Ford Elementary School to read my book, “Tony the Lonely Dandelion”. Such a strange and wonderful phenomenon to be able to share this story with the kindergarten, and first and second graders, as many of the characters in “Tony” originated from my home town and childhood.

I am looking forward to going back home again. Yes, Thomas Wolfe, you were wrong on that point. You not only get to go back…but you get to go back and take with you, dreams fulfilled and hopes restored. There is something special when you look into the sweet innocent eyes of a child and let them know that they are so much more than what they think they are. My thanks to Ms. Paula Athey, Principal, and the school board, for providing this opportunity.

copyright mlb 2024

Victim to Victor

published 3/29/2024

I find a great joy in speaking out and helping others. So often when people are portrayed as victims, it can entrap them into a victim mentality, robbing them of the joy to be free. This is not to minimize the victimization, but to understand that the devastation from its fallout does not define us. We cannot wear the shroud of victimization. but must know that we can heal and become whole again, that we can go forth and be a voice of justice, of accountability to the perpetrator, a restorer of the breach. We can bring an awareness to a world that is totally unaware of the atrocities that go on behind closed door. This is why I do the work that I do-because yes, we are victims—but we are also-survivors, overcomers, conquerors, and even Victors. A favorite quote from my book “The Shattering II” is, “If we can be brave enough to enter into the dark shadows of the unspeakable and pull back the curtains, we not only reveal the light, but we also set the captives free. It is God’s desire to take us from lost to found, from victim to victor, from death to life.” Recently, I was featured in the March 2024 Newsletter for OVA-Office of Victim Advocacy.

Copyright Marsha Barth 2024

It’s Raining…But the Birds are Still Singing…

Published 3/26/2024

The other day, I went outside and it was just a pouring down rain. I hurried right back but stopped dead in my tracks at the front door. Amidst the pouring rain, echoing through the midst of the storm, the birds were singing loudly. I paused and couldn’t get over how loud and beautiful they were singing. The contrast of the damp dreary storm seemed in stark contrast to the beauty that filled the air. I wonder if in our storms of life, we could strain our ears real hard and hear above the turmoil, a song in the air. I wonder if in the storms of life we could persevere through the turmoil to give another a song. I thought of our girls after visiting the Lebanon County Prison the other night…..and hoped they could hear a song in the night. My thanks to Theresa Johnson, Sherry Anderson and Wendy Buffington.

Copyright Marsha Barth 2024


published 3/22/2024

“Grace keeps us from falling….and mercy picks us up when we do.” (mlb)

A retreat to remember! “Dealing with Forgiveness God’s Way”. When is the last time you told anyone that you were sorry? Without a “but” or an “if”? I’m sorry “if” I hurt your feelings, “but” I wouldn’t have done that “if” you hadn’t said that. And we call that an apology. “If” excuses our actions and “But” justifies our actions. Oh, the freedom that we have when we ask God and others for forgiveness. Oh, the freedom that we have, when we forgive others also. My thanks to Theresa Johnson for all of her hard work in making this retreat happen. She inspired us all! My love to all who joined with us and made this a wonderful event! Had a great book signing there–”The Shattering”, “The Shattering II”, “Tony the Lonely Dandelion”, and “Amazing Grace-Heaven’s Light”. Kenbrook Retreat Center, 190 Pine Meadow Rd, Lebanon, PA 17046.

copyright Marsha Barth 2024

Is This “Real Ice Cream….

published 3/2/2024

I like ice cream. My favorite is probably cookies and cream. I was dipping some out the other day and I was surprised to see that on the front of the box was written in big red letters—-”Real Ice Cream”.

I stopped and laughed, it’s pretty bad when they have to stamp the box with “Real Ice Cream”. I went into the Lebanon County Correctional Center the other night with our group to visit some of the girls in prison.

I couldn’t help think of them today. for they know what the word “real” means. They know some very “real” things. They know how real it is to be alone. They know how real it is to be in prison, to suffer bullying, to be broken and sad. I have never in my 20 years of visiting prisons justified anyone from being in prison. I have visited an all male facility (maximum security) in MD. I’ve visited the prisons in Florida and Virginia several times. I’ve visited the prison in Kauai HI. The Maui HI prison, I’ve visited 6 times, one time visiting 13 cell blocks, which took me 3 days to do it. I have visited many prisons here in PA and have done many crime impact classes for the state. But, I have never justified or

excused them from being there. The strange thing is that most of the prisoners don’t have to be told that they deserve to be there. They know what they did was wrong. They know that they made bad choices. And many want to change their lives, they just don’t know how. Mercy and accountability walk hand in hand. For as much as they know that some things are “real”, they are usually at a loss as to other things that are “real”.

Wonder if it could become real to them, and they could truly grasp, that they do matter? Wonder if they could dare hope that they could change, that their lives could be better, that they could break the cycle of pain and bad choices?? Could this be truly “real”, they wonder. And we get to go in and tell them, “yes, it is truly real”—God does love you.

You do matter. He sees every tear that falls. He knows your hurt and pain and even your anger. He knows what you came from, and if you let Him, He will show you what you can become. It all starts by knowing that God is truly real, and that you do truly matter. I love to share my stories with the inmates and plant that seed of hope in their hearts. I love to tell them that we can go on to be a Victor. I often wish I had a stamp that says “real God”, instead of “real ice cream”. Be blessed my friends and know that you “do matter”.

copyright 2024 mlb

Did You Know….

published 2/22/2024

It is physically impossible for pigs to look up into the sky?

A crocodile cannot stick its tongue out?

A cat has 32 muscles in each ear?

Tigers have striped skin, not just striped fur?

A shrimp’s heart is in its head?

An ostrich’s eye is bigger than its brain?

I am always fascinated at what we don’t know. But not knowing can be a real stumbling block in our walk in life’s journey. Not knowing can cause us to struggle in our decisions, our trust, our faith and especially in our hearts. I have found it helpful to always seek knowledge and learn, but I have found also that often not knowing all things can sometimes be a stumbling block. So, when I don’t know all the facts, I rest on what I do know, and not on what I don’t know. People often struggle with God because they don’t know why bad things happen to good people, they don’t know why death comes to someone undeserving, why there is suffering, why the evil aren’t stopped. They can’t understand the heart of God. But what about what we do know? That God is a loving God. A God who sees our every tear, knows our deepest hurts and pains, and desires for us to have a blessed life, a good life, a happy life. But do we really know this??? Have we experienced this in our relationship with God? Do we really know that we matter to Him? Do we really know that He is a God that truly cares? Do we know that mankind has caused the sorrow and evil that surrounds us, not God? Do we know that God is not the cause, but the solution?? It is in what we know that will carry us through the storms of life, more than what we don’t know.

As a child, I could not understand the sorrows of life. I did not know that God loved me. How could He?? But then as I walked with Him in my brokenness, I began to see and know His heart. That He is not a God who is afar off, uncaring. When I was about 12 years old, God gave me a promise—if you put me first in your life, I will give you the desires of your heart. I knew at 12 what the desires of my heart were. I wanted to go to college. Meet a good Christian man that would love me and so much more. But based on what I knew—this was impossible. My circumstances cried out how impossible this would be. But yet, one single day in 12th grade, I was called into the Principal’s office and my life changed. God used him to get me full scholarship to college, led me to a man that loved me like no other. (We will be married 50 years in June) and fulfilled every promise.

Never base your life, your choices, your hopes and dreams, your faith and trust in what you don’t know—base them on what you do know. Lest we become like the ostrich who’s eye is bigger than his brain. Lol.

I will speak for Tabernacle Baptist Church on Friday, February 23, 2024. This is a phone conference with the group, The Family Prayer Table. All are welcome to call in at 12:00, at 605-472-5396 code 395806#. My thanks to Dr. Rev Arthur L Brown, Rev. Rose, and Benzenia Hart for this invitation.

Copyright 2024 mlb

A Single Rose….

published 1/23/2024

I pulled into the parking lot this evening and felt it right away; a heaviness, like when a dark cloud passes over the sun and blocks its warm rays. I park and go into the prison and wait for the rest of our team to arrive. We go through the normal routine of checking in, getting our badges and locker key. We go to the heavy iron door and wait for the guard to unlock it. There is a loud clank and we enter in the first door and wait for the door to shut behind us. Another loud clank and the next door is unlocked and we go through it into a long hallway. Here we await at the cast iron gate. We hear it clank loudly as it slowly opens. We pass through it and then hear it close loudly behind us. We enter into the room that we use for a chapel. Shortly, the women enter. They are all ages—from young, to medium age, and to older. As they enter, about four of them approach me excitedly. I remember them from last month. “Marty,” they call out,” we read your books.” One gives me a big strong hug and says, “I feel like I know you, Marty.” I laugh and say, “If you read my books, honey, then you really do know me.” They were so encouraged. One of the girls had read both of them. Two of the girls were excited because they were going to be released tomorrow. I put my hand on the one’s shoulder and told her I was glad I got to see her one more time before she left and asked her, “what now?” She told me that both her and her inmate friend were going to come to our church and wanted the address. I talked to them for a few minutes and encouraged them before they had to sit down. As, we went to go into our program, one of the girls asked the Chaplain if they could see the rose she had brought that was sitting on the table. The Chaplain smiled and handed the woman the single rose with baby’s breath in a simple vase. As I sat and watched the girls, my heart was touched. They handled the vase as if it was a priceless treasure. Ever so gentle, the first one touched the rose as if to see if it was truly real. She brought it up slowly to her nose and inhaled deeply to smell the rose’s sweet fragrance and then slowly passed it to the next woman. She too, took the vase and smiled, as she breathed in the rose’s precious aroma. I watched the women pass that single rose slowly around the room as we prepared to teach them. My heart searched each girl’s face. I saw their hurt and pain, their sorrow and brokenness, the forlorn look of hopelessness, and then I saw them smile at that one single rose. In their hands, it seemed to represent a symbol of beauty and strength, a hope for tomorrow where life can be different, where they could bloom again, a new season where life could be sweet, fragrant with fresh promises. We spoke to the girls, one by one, with our messages of hope, showing them that if only we can touch the hem of the garment of Jesus and know His reality, that our lives will never be the same. That He will carry them and strengthen them for the journey ahead if they but surrender their lives to Him. He, like that single rose, breathing His spirit of hope into their hearts, with the promise of a better tomorrow. This is our joy in going into the prisons, seeing a life transform before us. Visited the Lebanon County Correctional Institution last night with our team—myself, Theresa Johnson and Wendy Buffington.

Copyright mlb 2024

Love’s Precious Gift….

published 1/20/2024

Young love holds no edge on love that has been tested and tried through many years. It is not Mike and my anniversary. Although later this year we will celebrate our 50th. Sometimes it is wonderful to celebrate love without any event. The other day, for no reason, Mike was kidding around with me. And he said with a big smile on his face, “Oh how do I love thee.” I was waiting for the punch line and just grinned at him. And then he continued, “Thou art fairer than the flower in the field.” I gave him a more serious look. “Thou art sweeter than the honeysuckle on the vine,” he continued with a loving smile. Tears came to my eyes as I realized he was serious. All, I could say was, “Did you just make that up?” He smiled a special smile and said, “yes.” I tried to remember it and asked him to say it again. I actually just wanted to hear him say it again. This morning, he said it again, but had written it down and added to it.

“Oh how do I love thee,

Thou art fairer than the flower in the field

Thou art sweeter than the honeysuckle on the vine

Why dost mine heart shudder at mine mortality

The absence of thy love do I fear the most

Together strong as the mighty oak

Alone weak as the broken twig

As the hatchling clings to its mama’s breast

So is our bond which gives our peaceful rest

There is no darkness with thy love which shines

Thy warmth, it comforts me forevermore

Oh, how do I love thee.”

Michael Barth 2024

I usually wouldn’t share something so personal, but I felt led to let love’s light shine. Love shines through the eyes of a child, the touch of a momma’s hand, a stranger’s kind smile, a friends’ helping hand, the hug of a loved one. Let love’s light shine for it is a precious gift. God’s richest blessings dear friends……

Copyright mlb 2024

Sweet Memories…

published 12/18/2023

Sweet Memories….

As I decorated for Christmas this year, I found myself missing my momma more than ever. Whoever said that “time heals all wounds” and “absence makes the heart grow fonder”, made a mistake with those words. Time is only a measurable period of life and has no essence of healing. Only God can heal, and absence only makes the heart hurt more. It is in His presence, as I take my sorrows, confusions and griefs to Him, that I find healing, peace and yes, even “Joy”. You see, it is God who sees our heart-every secret crevice, every unspoken prayer, every tear that falls.

I was at Momma’s house the other day and spent some time going through her things and cleaning out the house. As I went through my mom’s pockets, I felt my heart smile. I made a little pile of my new found treasures; a tissue in every pocket; that was momma. She always said, “I’m built backwards, Marty. My feet smell and my nose runs.” There was a wrapper of a York Peppermint Patty, her favorite candy bar, and then the treasure of all treasures, a small brooch that says, “I Love Bingo” I burst out laughing.

Sweet Memories-Precious Love. It never dies, because of Christmas. Hope, Joy, Love, Peace, and Comfort were born that day in our Saviour, a God who has carved you on the palm of His hand and that longs for you to know that you truly matter to Him; that you are the apple of His eye. Love never dies. “Come unto me, all you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” May this “Jesus”, who truly loves YOU, bring you the Joy of this Christmas Season. Love~~Marty

copyright mlb 2023

“There’s Life in Our Words”….

published 12/04/2023

Book Signing—December 7, 5:30-7:30 pm at Annville Library Community Room, 216 E Main St, Annville, PA 17003. All welcome.

It’s a funny and yet wonderful thing when we discover things. I can remember when I was very young that one time my brother and I were bored. We decided to make up and write a story. Why we chose to do this instead of playing a game is beyond reasoning. But it was a better idea than writing numbers. I can remember my brothers and I being up at my gramma’s house, and the weather too bad to hike in the woods along the cliff, so we’d get some old paper she had lying around and have a contest between the four of us to see who could write numbers to the highest. We had pages and pages of numbers. I never remembered who won or what the highest number was that we reached, but we thought it was fun. So when my brother Pat suggested we write a story, I thought it was a great idea. I can’t remember what either of us wrote about. I sure wish I had those stories today to read to each other. But one thing I do remember is that when I was about thirteen years old, it was Mother’s Day, and I had no money to buy my momma a present. So, I went out in our yard and picked the biggest bouquet of lilacs from our bushes and put them in water in an old jar. Then, I sat down and wrote her a poem about my three brothers and I. It was the first thing that I had ever written. It made me cry when I wrote it and that surprised me. I wondered if it would affect momma that way. When I gave her my gifts, she could hardly finish reading the poem as tears ran down her face. That was the first time that I remember that the potential of words spoken or written can change a life forever; that words can have an impact on a heart-good or bad; that words can move mountains and make a difference in any situation. I have continued to write all my life, but never thought about ever being published. And then God began to open new doors in my life—and “The Shattering” was written and published, and then “The Shattering II”. Next, was “Tony the Lonely Dandelion” and “Amazing Grace”.

Not long ago, at a book signing, a woman bought a copy of “Amazing Grace”. Afterwards she contacted me and told me she was on her third time reading “Amazing Grace” and ordered 15 more copies for gifts.

Recently, she told me she was on her fifth time, reading “Amazing Grace” and ordered three more copies. Another customer, who couldn’t purchase “Tony the Lonely Dandelion” on Amazon, because they ran out of books, purchased it on Ebay and then wrote a review~~”Wonderful! A book destined to be a classic!” The two books on “The Shattering”, in a prison that I visit, look like they’re thirty years old, worn, cover off and re-taped upside down. When God calls us to do a work, it is He, that makes the impact, it is He that touches the hearts that He created. That is what touches my heart—that there is such life in words. And of course, this has to be true, because He is the living Word.

Book Signing—December 7, 5:30-7:30 pm at Annville Library Community Room, 216 E Main St, Annville, PA 17003. All welcome.

copyright 2023 mlb

Never Say “Uncle”….

published 11/29/2023

When I was a kid, I remember we used to play “Uncle”. I have to remind you that I had three older brothers and I was the youngest and the only sister. When we would get into a skirmish, we had these grips and holds that we would do to each other until the other person would call out “Uncle”. Then as if an unwritten law, we’d release the person. I have no understanding to this day why we did this, what purpose it served, or why we had to say the word “Uncle”. But even then, I had this streak in me, where I wouldn’t give in. I just couldn’t say “Uncle”. Sometimes, I’d scream, “Aunt”. But that didn’t work, because it was the wrong word. I just had this thing about giving up. Somehow it became a sort of survival instinct-”Don’t give up!” Kind of like Nehemiah on the wall. Sometimes, we have to have a plow in one hand and a sword in the other to get the job done, to fight the battles of life, to survive, to overcome, to walk in victory. Never come off the wall—Never say “Uncle”. God’s richest blessings dear friends. Tomorrow, I will speak for Tabernacle Baptist Church on Thursday November 30, 2023. This is a phone conference with the group, The Family Prayer Table. All are welcome to call in at 12:00, at 605-472-5396 code 395806#. My thanks to Dr. Rev Arthur L Brown, Rev. Rose, and Benzenia Hart for this invitation.

copyright mlb 2023

Tony’s a Hit!!!

published 10/26/2023

Interview on ABC Good Day PA. I have recently learned that is “temporarily out of stock” of “Tony the Lonely Dandelion”. Please know that “Tony” can be purchased from me directly from this page, from my website,, or by contacting me via email, [email protected] This way I am also able to give you an autographed copy and can personalize it to your child the way you would request.

We Are More than Just a Weed!

published 10/23/2023…/author-spotlight-marsha-barth-2/

What an amazing day!! To get to share my book “Tony the Lonely Dandelion” on Good Day PA-Author Spotlight.

October is National Bullying Prevention Month. I will never forget the little girl in Hawaii where I read the book last fall in the King Kamehameha Grade School to 250 students. She whispered in my ear, “Sometimes, I feel like Tony.” And then there was the little boy who raised his hand and said, “I have to admit it. Sometimes, I’m a bully!” I smiled at him and said, “So what are you going to do about that?”

My sincere thanks to Amy Kehm, Brett Thakara and the whole ABC staff for this opportunity, their kindness and great support!!

Tony the Lonely Dandelion…..

by: Marsha Barth

published 10/16/2023

Tony is the lovable dandelion who believes he is more than just a weed and wants to be a beautiful flower but everyone picks on him and says he is “just a weed”. October is National Bullying Prevention Month. I will be interviewing on WHTM-TV/abc 27 on Thursday, October 19, 2023 with my book–”Tony the Lonely Dandelion”.

My thanks to Amy Kehm, host of [email protected] for her time and support in arranging this TV interview. Good Day PA airs LIVE from 10am-11am. Remember you are more than “just a weed”. You are a beautiful flower!!!

Dare to Be a Daniel…

published 9/12/2023

As we were driving to an appointment the other day, Mike said to me,”It’s harvest time.” I asked him how did he know? And he said, “You can tell because the wheat is heavy and bends over when it is ripe but the tares stands right up.” The wheat is heavy with seed and fruited grain, but the tares are empty small seeds which are toxic for consumption.

I find it amazing that two plants can grow side by side and look exactly the same and yet be totally different and this not be seen until harvest time. It is truly harvest time and like the wheat we must be true to what we are, lest we appear as wheat and truly only be a tare.

Can we dare to be a Daniel, and Esther, a Paul, a Shadrach, Meshach or Abednego? Or does the cancel culture have us so wrapped up in fear, that we are bound and afraid to be the Daniel or Esther that God has called us to be. It is harvest time…. I will speak for Tabernacle Baptist Church on Thursday September 14, 2023. This is a phone conference with the group, The Family Prayer Table. All are welcome to call in at 12:00, at 605-472-5396 code 395806#. My thanks to Dr. Rev Arthur L Brown, Rev Rose, and Benzenia Hart for this invitation.

The Cloud Has Lifted….

published 9/11/2023

The fog lay so heavy in the valley today that it encompassed us that we could not see as we were driving. So often too, the clouds of life can cover us like a blanket, and we cannot find our way. And then all of a sudden the clouds lifted. Saturday, we had a great conference with so many wonderful women, from every walk of life, different churches, and all ages. Some knew of God, some had walked with Him many years, some were coming out of recovery. We cannot know the burdens that some were carrying—tremendous burdens, that we cannot often see.

And yet the speakers spoke-Theresa Johnson, Toni Stewart, Tamarra Bopp and Marsha Barth and God moved and touched every heart. There is such a joy in transformation—the clouds lift, we can see, and we begin to walk in victory, and the sun shines again. My thanks to all who worked so hard-the kitchen crew, the vendors, speakers, Ruby Shearburn for the pictures, and all the wonderful women and friends who came together for this great event! ❤❤❤

Copyright mlb 2023

Mystery of the Butterfly….

published 9/7/2023

There is a beautiful mystery of the butterfly that many don’t know. Somewhere between being that ugly squirmy worm and turning into a beautiful elegant butterfly, something mysteriously happens. There is a journey that evolves as the butterfly presses onward towards his destiny. It isn’t so much that he must fight for survival, but that he must endure the process if he is to reach his true identity. He will shed his skin painfully five times, before he encases himself in a living tomb to await his transformation. Little does he know what will transpire during that time. His body will release hormones and enzymes that will dissolve his very being except for a few select cells. Through this process he is liquefied and other cells that have been dormant and spared are now awakened and begin to create a complete and new creature, each with their own DNA codes to produce wings, digestive system, and everything that makes this creature a symbol of beauty, rebirth, hope, freedom, endurance, and love.

The mystery lies in the power of transformation from its creator. How amazing that something can be so completely transformed from an ugly worm to a colorful kaleidoscope of beauty to soar away from its past and fulfill its divine purpose. Oh, but what about the mystery of the child of God. Is it any less divine to see a soul broken and shattered, torn asunder, and its life’s purpose dissolved and destroyed, only to see the creator once again make it a new creature in Christ and cause it to rise up above the shadows of life and soar into their new identity and fulfill God’s purpose? Join us this Saturday, September 9th, 2023, at Faith Fellowship Church for our Women’s Free Fall Conference, located at 721 East Penn Ave., Cleona, PA. See flier for details. Book Signing at this event also–”The Shattering”, “The Shattering II”, “Tony the Lonely Dandelion”, and “Amazing Grace-Heaven’s Light”, author Marsha Barth.

Copyright mlb 2023

Sorrow in Paradise…

published 8/21/2023

Anyone who knows me, knows my love of HI. It is not just the beauty that engulfs you when you step off of the plane, or the beautiful fragrance that feels the air, but it is the humbleness and kindness of the gentle people that live there. I write this article to those who have asked me how they can help and donate to those suffering from the Maui fires. Here is the link that I recommend. Dr. Marocco and his wife are pastors of King’s Cathedral in Kahului and love the people of Hawaii dearly. The church has partnered with nationwide organizations such as City Serve, Convoy of Hope, Mercy Chefs, Samaritan’s Purse and are helping so many.

We have personally met and spoken to the Pastors- Dr. Marocco and his wife in the past. Since Tuesday, more than 700 people have sheltered in the church’s building and parking lot.

I have done a lot of ministerial work in Maui. I have spoken to a homeless group at King’s Cathedral in Kahului. I have twice spoken for the University of HI-on Domestic Violence and Child Sexual Abuse. I have spoken at the prison 6 times, the last time to 13 cell blocks which took me three days. I have spoken at the Malama Family Center and the Aloha House (wonderful recovery programs for addiction) and I have had book signings at the only book store on the island (Barnes and Noble) who donated money to these recovery programs through my book sales. I have spoken at the Waiola Church, which was the first Christian church on Maui, established by Queen Keopuolani 200 years ago and just last year, I read my book “Tony the Lonely Dandelion” to five groups of elementary students, approximately 250 children at the King Kamehameha Elementary School. Both have burned completely to the ground in the Lahaina fires. What saddens me the most are the precious lives that have been lost. There are children from the King Kamehameha Elementary School who have perished in the fire, along with many family members of some of the people we have grown to know and love. This loss hits us personally. To anyone who has a burden for those who have lost their loved ones, and many who have lost all that they owned; their homes, their cars, and all their personal possessions, please feel free to contact King’s Cathedral at the link posted. I am posting some pictures of happier days in our Maui. God Bless~~Kindest regards~~Marty (Marsha Barth)

Are You a Repairer of the Breach….

published 7/26/23

I was raised in the beautiful hills of WV. The beauty of the land is only matched by the beauty of the people that live there.

Lately, I have been reminded about the path I have walked. As a small child, we were raised in a three-room house, not to be mistaken for a three-bedroom house. It was not HGTV approved and the one closet was big enough for just one of us kids to hide in. The bathroom was 150′ up the hill, the horseshoe pegs another 150′ and the cliff that went straight down, 150′ feet farther.

My brothers and I learned very early on, not to chase the ball past the horseshoe pegs. We had a good family, but we had some bad people in our family.

We had love, but often it was torn asunder by the wrong that others chose to follow. I found myself at the age of five broken and shattered by others’ choices. It could have all ended there. Or at the age of thirteen, when I felt that I had lived long enough if this was the way life would be.

An identity of hopelessness had covered me at that young age and was fortified by people who believed the same. It would have consumed me except a light shone through that darkness in my life. A light that showed me my true identity, and filled me with new hope, new promises and a new life. When there is a light we no longer walk in darkness. When there is light, everything looks different than in the darkness; flowers bloom instead of wilting, fear vanishes and hope shines brightly, naysayers words fall on deaf ears and we rise to the destiny and identity that God had planned for us all our lives.

Oh, if you could see yourself the way God sees you. If you could know and find your true identity in him and not in who you think you are, or aren’t. If you could know that you are more than a conqueror, more than broken, more than a failure, more than forsaken, more than unloved. For you are more, much more. But this precious gift of identity can only be found in him, for he is the one who created that identity and purpose in you, and for you only.

As, that small child, I grabbed hold of who he said I was. No one seemed to believe it, especially me. But as I took his hand and went forward on that journey of life, I have found more than I could have ever dreamed. One day many years ago, I was sitting and pondering all that God had done in my life; all that he had changed; all that he had healed; all the battles that he had overcome in my life and all the promises that he had fulfilled, never failing to keep a single promise. He showed me Isaiah 58: 12 … “you shall be called, the repairer of the breach, the restorer of paths to dwell in.” If only we could see that it is never too late, it is never the end. From the day we surrender ourselves to this Savior, this friend, this God, this deliverer, this restorer, our life changes, and it is a new beginning. Now you get to be “a repairer of the breach”. It goes on to say that our children and grandchildren will build the old waste places and that our choice impacts the foundations of many generations. We get to be a restorer of the paths that they will walk in.

I enjoy this walk with God. I found his reality those many years ago and his presence has never wavered. I enjoy sharing this joy and hope, through my books that I have written, through my events, and through my blogs. Yesterday, two of my friends and myself visited the Lebanon County Prison. There we get to share this true reality that we have found, with those who are probably at the lowest point of their lives; a point that many of them think and feel that they cannot overcome or change. Many will go to State Prison from here. Many have a long path ahead of them. But oh, wonder if they could know that they can be “a repairer of the breach”, that their identity is not in the color of their prison uniform, but in the palm print of a Jesus who loves them? This Friday, July 28, 2023 I will speak for Tabernacle Baptist Church in Harrisburg. This is a phone conference with the group, The Family Prayer Table. All are welcome to call in at 12:00, at 605-472-5396 code 395806#. My thanks to Dr. Rev Arthur L Brown, Rev Rose, and Benzenia Hart for this invitation.

copyright mlb 2023

The Sound of Freedom………


I had to go see this movie! As many of you know, I am a speaker, advocate, and author against child sexual abuse. I was not disappointed in the magnitude of the truth that it exposed. It was excellently, professionally, and truthfully put together and is one of the most amazing eye-opener and best movies of our times. I would encourage any one, any one, who has any concern for our children to go and see this movie. As an author and victor of child sexual abuse, I know the approach and even sometimes the reproach that is portrayed at this theme or topic. I have been told personally by people that reading my book gave them bad dreams and they couldn’t read it. My thought to this was—do they have any idea of the bad dreams and nightmares that child victims are living through. (My book has no graphics and detail into the abuse, only the reality of what abuse is). It is our responsibility, our duty, to open our eyes, and to become aware of what is happening to our children. I have been told by book stores that they felt their readers/customers would not be interested with this theme. I merely commented that with statistics of 1 in 4 girls and 1 in 6 boys being sexually abused by the age of 18, over 60 million adults now living past their childhood sexual abuse, and that every 8 minutes in America a child is sexually molested, it will be hard for anyone to find that child sexual abuse will not impact them at sometime in their life. I have had people ask me unbelievable questions at book signings–”Why is it so hard for a child to get over child sexual abuse?” “Why didn’t you speak up?” I have had people pick up the book to buy, walk away, and then come back and put it down, saying this is too deep for me. I just smile, and say with my arms open, “It has a good ending.” And it does. And so does this movie! It is a story of Victory over Victimization. It is a story of defeating the evil that has ravished our children. You may say, “but what can I do to help the children???” It seems to my heart that if any one has any love for any of our children, they will put “their” feelings aside, or any “discomfort” that they may feel with this topic, and open their eyes and hearts to what is happening by standing against child sexual abuse and trafficking and supporting every cause that rises up against this. I encourage you to see this movie.

Set Free…..

published 7/3/2023

The other day I had two of the grandchildren up to visit. Oh, the joy that radiates from them. We talked (non-stop) the whole ride up to our house. We talked about everything and anything. They ask me to tell them stories, and I do. Stories about them, their daddy and their Aunt Jenny as children, and I even tell them funny stories about them. We laugh, draw, and play games. They love beating PopPop at “Skunk”. We went to the local fair and ate all the goodies. I went on one ride, and only one, turned green, and then ate funnel cake.

Children truly radiate God’s love. That night when I was tucking them in, I asked them who they wanted to pray for. Matthew said, “He wanted to remember all the people he loved that were not with us anymore. He is 8 years-old. My heart smiled. I said, “We can remember Nana and PopPop.” He said, “and Gramma too.” This was his great-gramma. They lost three grandparents last year. Love is so precious and writes its messages in our hearts forever. We see God in the hearts of children. We hear God in the chorus of songs the birds sing at the breaking of dawn and at the setting of the sun. We feel God in the stillness of night, his love and comfort embracing us. His reality is ever present in our midst—but do we call on him? “His arm is not short that he will not save, his ear is not heavy that he cannot hear.” So what does hinder us? I am reminded of this also as I went into the prison last Monday to speak. The women listened with open heart and many shared their story. One had been to her mom’s funeral that very day on furlough. I know also that she lost a small child not long ago. Do we know the hearts of these who are struggling? Do we know the hardships that led them down the wrong paths? We don’t. Do we know a Jesus who will take them under the shadow of his wings, deliver them, and set them free? Yes—we do. On this fourth of July—let us remember the one who truly sets us free. Let us rejoice in the goodness of our God who has truly by his grace and mercy blessed our America.

copyright mlb 2023

“Hidden Riches in Secret Places….

published 5/29/2023

Have you ever noticed a squirrel in the middle of the road?? They perceive danger, react frantically, race back and fourth before they hunch up, and freeze right before you as you are traveling fifty miles an hour. Wherein, you then perceive danger, react frantically and hunch up and freeze also. Have you ever noticed in our lives that we face many decisions in our lives the same way as the squirrel??? We don’t like to think that we do, and would rather perceive ourselves as the courageous lion who is unapproachable, or as the mighty eagle who soars above the clouds and troubles that crowd into our lives. The squirrel fails many times because he lacks depth perception and the ability to detect the immediate danger due that his eyes are positioned on the side of his head. It is unfortunate, that often we, in ourselves, can lose our depth perception, when surrounded by darkness, or situations in our lives that are clouded by circumstances beyond our control. It is then that we need to find clarity; find the “treasures of the darkness”, the “hidden riches of secret places.” It is then that we must find the light in our darkness so that we may see clearly again. I have found many treasures in my times of darkness, and many hidden riches in the secret places, once I found the light to show me the way. David found that light also and was able to slay the impenetrable bear, the mighty lion, and the overbearing giant. He found that Light in the Word as he declared, “Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” And John found it and said, “ In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. And then said, “the light shines in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.” I have always found comfort in that light that shines in my darkness. Though we often cannot understand it , somehow, we regain our depth perception and our peripheral vision, as the light shows us a bigger picture. What treasures could we ever find in the darkness, or hidden riches in secret places? Oh, there are so many….Hope, Peace, Love, Kindness, Deliverance, Strength….not in ourselves, but in that miraculous Light that leads us through the darkest of nights…

I will be a guest speaker for Tabernacle Baptist Church at “The Table Family Prayer Group at 12:00 on Tuesday May 30th. All are welcome to join us by dialing 605-472-5396 and then code 395806#. My thanks to Benzenia Hart, Dr. Reverend Arthur L. Brown and Reverend Rose for this opportunity to share “Treasures in the Darkness and Hidden Riches in Secret Places.”

copyright mlb 2023

Have You Smiled Today…..

published 5/23/23

“A child’s smile makes even the saddest heart happy.”mlb

I went to visit some of my grandchildren the other day. I was blessed to watch them for a few days—all eight of them. They always make my heart smile. They have an answer for everything. It may be the wrong answer, but I guarantee you it will make you laugh. We blew up some balloons. Actually, I blew up one balloon, (see picture).

In a world full of turmoil, it is the children that can show us the way—through their innocence, love, and tenderness of heart. But the question remains~~what are we teaching them??? Have we taught them love, kindness, and forgiveness. Children reflect what they see and embrace what they understand. I’m reminded often from my childhood, as I’m sure many of you are reminded, that children can sometimes also be mean, bullying, and even cruel. That is why I wrote “Tony the Lonely Dandelion”. It is sad, but true, that I can go through that little book and tell you who every flower in that book was in my childhood. I am actually “Tony”. “Mr. Gruff”, was a seventh grade teacher that taught us and was very harsh. His name was “Mr. Waggley”. He called all of our test scores out loud in front of the class. I remember our first test with him. He was calling out our names with our grades. When he got to my name, he paused. This scared me to death. He said, 98, and then paused again. I let out a sigh of relief. But then he stated, “You must have lucked out, or studied awful hard.” It was like I had been hit in the gut with a board.

He, like Mr. Gruff, just couldn’t believe that a “dandelion” could really be a “flower”. The other characters represented in the book as other flowers are the bullies, the unconcerned neighbors, the indifferent adults, and those who looked the other way. All of these are who children learn from and where they gain their trust and values. –mlb Wednesday May 24, I will be reading “Tony the Lonely Dandelion” for a class at Pine Street Elementary School. My sincere thanks to Deborah Miller and Pine Street Elementary Staff for this invitation. “Every child you encounter is a divine appointment.” –Wess Stafford

copyright mlb 2023

Shadowed By Love……

published 5/14/2023

At 19, when I was born, my mom had already experienced more of life than most people who were twice her age. She had known the sorrow of losing siblings, experienced the divorce of her parents, barely knowing her father, and lived through a great depression, knowing the reality of poverty.

They lived on ration coupons. Their ration coupons for clothes were issued from a men’s clothing store. It fell their lot if they were to have shoes or coats, they had to be boys. It was at this time that there was an outbreak of lice and the only cure then was to shave the head completely. On Saturdays, my mom and her sisters were given a quarter to go to the movies, while gramma worked to support them. I remember Mom telling me of her dilemma of going to the restroom and standing there trying to decide to go either in the girls restroom looking like a boy with her bald head and boys clothes, or to go in the boys bathroom being a girl. She chose the later.

When she was 16, she was married and had my eldest brother; at 17, my second brother; by 18, my third brother; and at 19 she had me. Married with four children, we lived in a little “three-room” house. It had a kitchen, a living room and a bedroom with one small closet that only one of us could hide in at a time. We carried our water and we walked up the hill to use the bathroom which was outside. These were some of the happiest times that I remember.

Mom was not raised in a Christian home or with a religious foundation. Her Mom was Brethren, her Dad, Jehovah Witness and somewhere in between it all, the children were raised Catholic. But Mom knew something of the Love of God. When I had a headache or earache she would pray for me. When I was afraid at night, she taught me to talk to Jesus. Someone sent me little Bible Stories in the mail when I was young. You had to read the story and to answer the questions. and mail them back. My Mom would help me answer these, neither of us knowing the answer, looking up scriptures and struggling for the meaning.

As my Dad’s drinking continued; I watched sin destroy our family, and I watched as my Mom struggled through all the hurt and pain to keep us kids from being completely swallowed up in it. She pressed 24 dozen blouses a day in a steaming factory to provide for us, while a community judged and condemned her for not being there with us.

It was my Mom, who knew how much a box of hundred Crayola crayons meant to me. It was Mom who nurtured me through my shut-downs, patiently drawing me back out to a fresh hope. It was my Mom who taught me to look on compassion to those without, to reach out to the brokenhearted, to care for the hurting. It was Mom who taught me that my words could be too sharp at times, that trust is best placed in the hands of the right people, and that Jesus would always love me unconditionally. It was her faith in a God, that she said she didn’t know a lot about, that taught me to lean on Him and cast my every care. My mom was not perfect, and she was not religious in the sense we know it, but she knew something of the simple and pure Love of God.

When I look at my Mom’s life, I see mostly hurt and pain. But I have never seen her bitter. She was never bitter at her childhood. She could take the saddest memory and weave it into a story of overcoming. She took the pain of her failed marriages, never blaming anyone, never retaliating back, never holding a grudge. She forgave in ways that I’m still learning.

My Mom played games with us, shared with us, worked hard for us, stood by us and believed in us. She shadowed us with her love and I will be forever grateful to God for giving me my Mom who has impacted my life so greatly.

Copyright 2000—Marty Barth Love Marty

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Treasures of the Darkness….

published 4/29/23


I was leaving home today to go out and as I backed the car up as usual, I turned and went around the loop of our driveway. I, by chance, looked over at our front window and there stood my husband. He gently waved his hand goodbye to me. Such a simple gesture, but one that our family has done ever since we moved here over thirty years ago. The family would always stand at the window, and when one of us left—would wave goodbye. We did it when the kids were leaving to go on the bus for school. We did it when, they drove off to their first dance. We did it when, they went off to college. A simple gesture of love.

Marsha and Ali Perrotto CEO/SARCC

We can miss the precious things of life in the darkness of our circumstances sometimes. On Thursday, I spoke for SARCC at Monument Park, in Lebanon, PA. I spoke of how there are “Treasures of the Darkness”, “Hidden Riches in Secret Places.” These treasures can be hard to find when we are in our darkest hour, but they are there, because God is there. He is not far, from the heart that is breaking. He is not far, from your tears that fall. He is never too far that He cannot hear your cry for help.

Speaking at SARCC Event

He is the Hope that shines in our night, and lights our path into a healing journey. His ear is never heavy, that He cannot hear. His arm is never shortened, that He cannot save. That Hope, that is, and can be, an anchor for our soul, if we will only reach out. My sincere thanks to Ali Perrotto, CEO SARCC for inviting me to speak and be a part of this wonderful event. My thanks to all of the SARCC family who made me feel so welcomed. Keep up the great work!!!

copyright mlb 2023

Speak Up~~Speak Out

published 4/26/23

“Our lives begin to end, the day we become silent about the things that matter.” I like this compilation of thoughts from Dr. Martin Luther King.

I too, truly believe that our lives begin to end, when we become silent about the things that matter.” It is with this passion of this thought that I will “speak up” and “speak out” tomorrow in Monument Park, at 8th and Lehman Street, Lebanon, PA, April 27, 2023, starting at 4:00. It is with this same passion of thought that I wrote my books–”The Shattering” and “The Shattering II”.

We so often do not like to talk or hear about things that make us uncomfortable, but I am reminded of what Edmund Burke in the 1700’s stated, “Evil can only prevail, when good people do nothing.” It is not only necessary, but it is imperative, that if we are to ever make a difference, it must begin with us “speaking up” and “speaking out”.

“If we can be brave enough to enter into the dark shadows of the unspeakable and pull back the curtains, we not only reveal the light but we also set the captives free. It is God’s desire to take you from lost to found, from victim to victor, from death to life.” (Quote from “The Shattering II”) Always remember that “YOU matter!!” “Hope is tangible and breathes life and passion into every human soul that dares to reach out, grab it, and believe.” (Quote from “The Shattering II”). All welcome to come and join us. My sincere thanks to Ali Perrotto, CEO, SARCC for this opportunity to be a part of this event.

copyright mlb 2023

Speak Up, Speak Out!!

published 4/15/2023


I couldn’t help thinking this morning about all the beauty that is unfolding before us as spring breaks. Everything is crying out for a new season, a new start, a fresh beginning. The trees are brushed with a tinge of green as they burst forth from the death of winter. The “laughy daffy’s” bade farewell as their encore to ushering in this new season has past.

Our lives are so many times ushered in through seasons of life. There are times when we only have the strength to endure and to survive our winter seasons. We feel truly at those times that we will never bloom again. We feel often alone as the winds of winter beat us down. But then the warmth of the Sunshine beats down upon us. It is healing, and hope begins to stir. New life begins to rise within us and we realize that we are no longer the Victim of winter but the Victor of spring.

Many of you know that I am an author. But I am also an advocate and speaker. It seems so fitting that April, the bosom of springtime, is when we promote Sexual Assault Awareness Month. It is also National Child Abuse Prevention Month, and National Crime Victims’ Rights Week, April 23–29, 2023. It is so often in the spring of our life that we are healed enough to “Speak Up, Speak out” and make a difference. My thanks to Ali Perrotto, CEO/SARCC (Sexual Assault Resource Counseling Center) for this opportunity to be a part of this event. “Where there is no vision, the people perish.”

copyright mlb 2023

Sticky Fingers….

published 4/14/23

The sun was shining so bright. What a blessed day it had been. We had just come in from our Easter Egg hunt and the children had opened up their eggs to count their treasures. Most of you know that I have ten grandchildren-nine boys and one girl. The house was full of laughter and beautiful commotion. As we gathered around the table for dinner—we took hands as Mike led us in a prayer of thanks—I reached for my little two-year-old’s hand who was eating a double-stuff Oreo as his appetizer. I asked him, “You want to take MeMaw’s hand?” He considered the Oreo over my hand for a moment and then shifted the cookie and took my hand.

There is something precious when a little two-year-old places his hand in yours. The feeling of trust from their little hearts as they wrap it around yours. But in reality, they wrap it around your heart. I listened as my Mike echoed our hearts of thankfulness and wrapped my hand tighter around Evan’s. I felt the stickiness ooze from his fingers to mine. A big smile crossed my face. Such a precious moment. One I will always remember. I know that there will come a time when I will miss those sticky little fingers wrapping around mine. But for now, oh how I enjoy them. Life is so precious and memories so treasured. Gone are the Easters that many shared with us. We missed my momma, and Missy’s mom and dad, all who have went on to meet the Lord last year. But we go forward—not without them—but with them in our hearts, their love shining a light on our path of life; a light of love that can only radiate from that light of the Resurrection that we were celebrating that day; a light that shows us that death and hell were conquered on that day, and a hope that there is a tomorrow that will outshine the sun. May we grab hold of that Hope that forever shines and Who bids us to take His hand so that we may always know that we never walk alone. Be blessed my friends~~

copyright mlb 2023

How Do You Deal With Conflict???

published 3/22/23

By Marsha Barth

I find it amazing the paths of life that God leads each one of us individually. I was driving down to my son’s a few days ago and saw a woman about my age riding a bike. She was Amish and had a school crossing vest on. I watched her literally speed across the road on her bike. I was impressed as she was an older woman with white hair. I saw an older man riding his bike along the road, hunkered down in his coat as the cold wind blew against him. But what really caught my eye was the person on a bike pedaling up a hill. I had to step on the gas as the hill inclined.

The Shattering II and The Shattering
Spring Conference

As I went around the bike, I was surprised to see that it was not a man but an older woman. I looked in my rear view mirror and saw her slowly pedaling up the hill. She didn’t look at the top of the hill or even look up at all. She was totally focused on her goal–to make it up that hill. She could not focus on the struggle. She could not focus on the distractions around her. She could not focus on the cold, or wonder ‘what if I can’t make it up that hill’. I watched her as she struggled on, the wind beating against her, her bags in a basket behind her, determined to fulfil her goal. She was purposed in her heart. Daniel purposed in his heart the things of God. We are living in a time where we must “purpose in our hearts”.

We can no longer say, “Well I hope I can do this”, “I hope I can make it “, “I hope I can do better.” We must purpose in our heart that “we can do all things through Christ”. We must not let the distractions of life hinder us. We must not let the strong winds of life blow us off course. We must not let our age or circumstances tell us we cannot make it up that hill. We must not let the coldness of other’s hearts deter us, or people passing us by with ease discourage us on our mission. We must not give up! There I was sitting in a warm car, facing no wind, the heater blowing warm air on my face, stepping on the gas, going around those who were pedaling so hard. Our goal was the same, to get up that hill. Our situations were different but our purpose was set in our hearts. Are you purposed in your heart? We are having a great woman’s retreat on “Dealing with Conflict God’s Way “. How do you deal with conflict; conflict on the job, at home, in relationships, finances, health, unseen circumstances, confrontations, and the problems of life? Please see attached flyer for details and contact information. My books and cds will be available at the book signing table. God’s richest blessings dear friends. ❤

copyright mlb 2023

Can You Trust???

published 2/17/23

Trust is a beautiful thing. It is as a beautiful rose blooming in the desert and just as rare. True trust is hard to find because so many of our hearts have been broken or shattered when trusting. But true trust, like true love, cannot be defined by what has been broken, but by what is made whole. I had a wonderful experience while spending some time with my 9 grandchildren. My Zachary, who is 3 1/2 years old, and a soul that runs deep, became more interested in the big pool instead of the children’s pool. He is very cautious, which is a good thing at 3 1/2. But he decided he wanted to jump into the pool without his floaties, asking me to catch him when he jumped in. As he jumped in and I caught him over and over again, I was amazed at his level of trust in me to catch him. He didn’t falter or hesitate. This little guy who used to not like to be splashed was now jumping freely into my arms, over and over again. I wouldn’t even jump into my arms if I was him.🤗. And yet, he trusted me. His trust melted my heart. I told him how brave he was and hugged him tightly. It made me think and ponder what would happen to us if we in all our doubts and fears could bravely stand on the edge of life and literally jump into the arms of a Savior who is waiting to catch us. It doesn’t matter if we can’t swim if He carries us. Oh such divine strength, courage, and trust to know Him more. I learn so much from my children ❤. Be blessed my friends.

copyright mlb 2022

Joy to the World…..

published 12/29/22

“Joy to the World” Marsha Barth

I love to etch-o-sketch. It is a strange hobby, I admit. But it relaxes me. People think that there is no way drawing a picture on an Etch-o-sketch could be relaxing, after all, there are no erasers. But when I make a mistake on the Etch-o-sketch, I just let God turn it into something else, something I wasn’t planning, and it turns out to be better than if I could have erased it. My life has been a lot like an Etch-o-sketch. God has worked all things for good in my life, even the hard things, the sad things, the bad things. He can do this if and only if, I surrender all these things to Him. There is an old song I sing—one of my favorites–”Something Beautiful”. “Something beautiful, something good. All of my confusions, He understood. All I had to offer Him, was brokenness and strife. But He made something beautiful out of my life.” I am reminded of the difference between Joy and Happiness. Happiness is an emotion-Joy is a fruit of the Spirit. Happiness is often determined by the circumstances in our life—but joy is an assurance, and a peace in spite of the circumstances. It is that peace and assurance that carry me through the storms of life, through the hurt and pain, the grief and sorrow. Joy is a presence, God’s presence-a peace that passes understanding. This doesn’t mean that I don’t feel sorrow, deep sorrow. It doesn’t mean that I don’t cry. I truly do. But I do know that I have gained great comfort from that grief and sorrow when I allow God to wipe away my tears. Truly in His presence-there is fullness of joy. Happiness brings me laughter-and I love to laugh. But oh, joy brings me peace. And peace brings me hope. I mentioned to my beautiful Missy, who has had great loss this year in the loss of both her mom and dad, that I am ready to tuck this year away and start a new year. She smiled and agreed. As we continue to walk through this Christmas season into a new year, let us remember that more than the gold, frankincense and myrrh that the wise men gave to Jesus, was the gift that he gave to us–”Joy to the World.” Be blessed my friends….

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The Joy of Christmas…

published 12/19/2022


A very Merry Merry Christmas to our dear friends and family. How quickly the seasons of our lives change. The air is brisk and cold now and whips past us reminding us that fall is gone and the harvest has passed. Now we enter a new season that will beckon in the joy of Christmas. But many with a saddened brow will hang their head at the mere thought of how Christmas can be joyful. Many that I know these last few years have lost dear loved ones. We have been to nine funerals this year and have been impacted closely by 10 deaths. Their seat remains empty at the holiday dinners. I, too, had to say goodbye to my dear momma this year as I released her into the hands of our Jesus. Christmas never will be the same without her. Christmas will never be the same without those we love so dearly. I hold every one of them in my heart forever and will keep them with me at every holiday, every blessed event, and every season of my life. But I am reminded, that the “joy” of Christmas is not in our memories past, but in that same Jesus who holds our tomorrows. He is the one who was born that day to bring us hope, love, peace, and yes, even “joy”. I was remembering the many Christmas’ past. So many of them were filled with the struggles and heartaches of life, and yet I smile, when I see my three brothers and I trudging up to Grandma’s house for Christmas dinner, or racing down Macabee’s hill on our new sleds, or listening for my children to rush down the steps after hearing the Christmas bells ring, and now watching my ten grandchildren with their eyes in wonder, excited to open their presents. The joy of Christmas can never be found in the sorrows of what we have lost, but can only be found in the blessings of today, and the promise of hope for tomorrow. So at this Christmas time, my dear friends and family, we wish all of you, the “joy” of Christmas. May God’s love carry you through the storms of life and his peace comfort your heart from the anguish of sorrow, and His promises breathe a new hope into your heart; for this is truly Christmas. We wish you a blessed and happy Christmas season. All our love and prayers….Marty and Mike

copyright mlb 2022

A Night to Remember….

published 12/11/2022

As this Christmas season draws near, I am reminded of how very blessed I am. I dedicate this story to my wonderful husband and my terrific son. Both who personify and inspired the story below………

A small child looked up into his father’s eyes. He said not a word as he continued to peer deeply into his eyes. It seemed to the boy that surely all of the secrets of the world lay somewhere hidden in the depths of his father’s soul. The child lovingly reached up and gently touched his father’s face. The father smiled, his eyes steadily fixed on his son. But then he saw the boy’s expression change as it grew much more serious. His tiny brow furrowed with concern as if in deep thought. He slowly took his son’s hands into his own and held them lovingly and waited for his son to speak.

“Daddy,” the boy began slowly, “What is Christmas?”

The father began to speak, but stopped to pause. He continued to look into his young son’s eyes, full of wonder and thought. He wanted to tell him about how every question of our heart was answered on that first Christmas. He wanted to tell him of the hope that the Savior’s birth gave us, of the doubts and fears those young parents had, not knowing what to do or where to go, about shepherds who saw angels, and wise men led by a star. But he knew that his son had heard the story of Christmas and that he was asking him something more, something much deeper.

The father smiled down at his small son and began to speak softly, “Christmas is a night to remember.” The boy looked in earnest as his dad continued…

“Christmas is hope when your night turns to day.

Christmas is light that will show you the way.

Christmas is peace when your heart fills with fear.

Christmas is truth to know that He’s near.

Christmas is strength when we feel we shall fall

Christmas is grace who hears when we call.

Christmas is courage when doubt rushes in

Christmas is mercy that saves us from sin.

Christmas is all, of these things above.

Christmas is joy in knowing His love.”

The little boy sat quietly and took in the words of his father that he so loved and trusted. He looked up, deep into his eyes once again, and then softly said, “It’s a night to remember, daddy, isn’t it?”

The father put his arm around his little boy and gave him a hug. “Yes, son, it is a night to remember.”

copyright marsha barth 2020

A Tribute to Love…..

published 12/3/2022

The snow crunched beneath our feet as we began to trudge up the hill to gramma’s house that day. I glanced at my three brothers. We looked like snow dolls. The freshly falling snow clung on our eyelashes and our cheeks were a rosy glow. There was a hush, a quietness that is only known during those first few hours that snow falls. Our laughter echoed through the valley breaking the stillness that surrounded us.

Gramma’s House

Gramma’s house was quaint, but the security and love it represented had always been a refuge for us. The big oak in gramma’s front yard towered before us as we approached her house. We were almost there and I paused for a few moments to get my breath. My thoughts wandered. Mom and Dad had just gotten divorced. Everything had changed and a great sorrow had filled my heart. I was eight years old and life had suddenly became very complicated as I discovered that the world is not always a wonderful and perfect place. The thud of a snowball hitting my shoulder and two more soaring past my head brought my thoughts back to the present. Grabbing a handful of the freshly fallen snow, I tried to pack a snowball to throw back at my brothers but the snow powdered through my fingers as I threw it and the remnant missed them completely as they ran ahead.

Myself, and my three big brothers….

“Wait up you guys,” I yelled, as we all headed for the door to gramma’s house. We barged gleefully into the house, letting the door slam behind us. We yanked off our coats and threw them on the three-foot heap of coats already piled upon grandpap’s old stereo. Gramma and our aunts were all busy cooking dinner. Some were stirring, some were mashing and all were talking. There was nothing fancy at Gramma’s house. There was no wreath on the door, no garland draped around the stairs, no silver or china on the table. There was just a warmth that engulfed the soul and gave a security that only the love of Christmas can bring. I saw that the table would soon need to be set, so I darted up the steps quickly before I was seen. I rounded the corner, past the old piano, and into the living room that was full of the chatter of my brothers and cousins.

Christmas at Gramma’s

In the corner was gramma’s Christmas tree. It was a little pine that my uncle had cut down out of the woods a few days before. The tiny tree was trimmed and twinkled in the dim light. I stood watching the bubble lights. These were my favorites. I became oblivious to the laughter of my cousins and brothers as I gazed into the reflections of those same ornaments that gramma placed on the tree each year.

I knew that later we would eat dinner and then all of us would gather in this tiny room and gramma would give us our presents. The room would burst with the voices of so many loved ones. I can still hear them in my heart to this day.

Somehow Christmas was different after that year. All are so precious. They come together now as a collage of memories filled with love; more an era of my life than separate events.

Christmas was no longer presents under the tree. It was love and family. For the first time, I began to see the real meaning that was represented in the Savior’s birth. It was the gift of love.

Copyright 2003—Marsha Barth

I Didn’t Know….

published 11/14/2022

I love the Monarch butterfly. Can anything be more beautiful than a slimy awful caterpillar that turns into one of the most beautiful and gracious creatures that God has ever created? I learned an amazing thing this weekend while away at a Book Signing for my books and a conference on Human Trafficking. Many beautiful butterflies never emerge from their cocoons. Often they are destroyed by all sorts of predators, from no fault of their own, while nestled in their cocoon that is supposed to nurture and protect them. Actually only 1 out of 10 ever survive to become that beautiful butterfly.

I wonder how many of us have been threatened in our lifetime by the predators of this world? How many of us as children or even as adults have fought to emerge as that beautiful butterfly? Or are some of us still stuck in the cocoon of life fighting to find our true identity? God never meant for us to remain that caterpillar—it was our destiny in Him, for all of us to emerge as that beautiful butterfly. Never lose heart or hope—God is a healing God.

Never believe the lie that you are just a slimy worthless caterpillar when you are a beautiful butterfly.

Fight the good fight. Call on a God that you truly matter to. Surrender to the One who will take you under the shadow of his wings, into the secret place, where you will emerge as His beautiful Monarch. My thanks to my dear friend Delilah Rumburg, Pastor Vince Wood, and all my friends from Providence Presbyterian Church in York, PA and Dr. Heather Evans, guest speaker for this wonderful conference. God’s richest blessings……

copyright 2022 mlb

“Suffer the Children to Come Unto Me….”

published 11/9/2022

Speaking at Kamehameha Grade School

I remember when I was a little girl, we sang the song, “Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world.” Children are precious. I was reminded of just how precious and unpredictable they can be. I was blessed to speak to the children at the Kamehameha Grade School in Maui, Hawaii. I spoke to five sessions of eleven classes (approximately 150-200 students), ages Kindergarten-Third Grade from 8:30 to 11:30. I read to them my book “Tony the Lonely Dandelion”.

Answering questions from the children

October was National Prevention of Bullying Month. They were absolutely precious. I think I know now how Art Linkletter must have felt when he talked with the children. You really never know what they are going to ask you. It can be much trickery than when I go into the prisons or the rehabs to present. One little girl asked me, “Where did you get the idea to write about Tony?” I answered-”from my children when they were just 3 and 1 years old.” She asked, “How old are they now?” And I answered, “42 and 44”. A slight pause, and then the little boy beside her said, “Then how old are you?” I burst out laughing and answered, “older.” The little girl reached over and poked him and said, “You’re not supposed to ask her that.” And then there was the little girl who asked me so maturely, “But how do you find the words to write it like that?” I paused and then simply said, “For me, God has to give me the words.”

The children would interact and say, “Oh that was mean for them to say that to Tony!” Or, “Poor Tony.” There was one little boy who was trying so hard to sit still and it was a real challenge for him. After a while, he raised his hand and reluctantly said, “I have to admit it. I don’t want to. But sometimes, I’m a bully.” I held back a smile and said, “So what are you going to do about that?” We shared back and forth and I got a lot of hugs on the way out. They made my heart smile.

And then there was my one little girl, hair in pigtails, kind eyes, and a gentle spirit, who lined up to go back to her class. She leaned over to me as I still sat in the chair, and softly said, “Sometimes, I feel like Tony.” I wanted to pick her up and put her in my pocket and take her home with me.

It is no wonder to me why Jesus loved to sit and talk with the children. Do we teach them, or truly do they teach us? Jesus loves the little children of the world. God Bless~~~

copyright mlb 2022

The Power of Words…..

published 10/17/2022

It’s an amazing thing…the power of words. They can break or mend a heart. They can lift up or tear town. They can revive or destroy a soul. There is no such thing as “sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me.” I remember when I was young, I went to a neighbors house to play. She was in my class at school and also in my Sunday School class. I was shy back then, and it took all of my effort to join her on the swing set. She didn’t say a word. Shortly, her mom came out and called her in for lunch. I sat down on the porch and waited for her to come back out. After a long time, her mom came out and said, “You might as well go home, she’s not coming back out!” And yet, I remember also the time, it was Mother’s day. I couldn’t wait to spend the day with my momma and give her the card I had made for her along with a bouquet of lilacs. This card was different because I had written her a poem in this one. It was the first story I had ever written. I watched as she read it and tears came down her cheeks and then she turned and gave me a big hug. Oh, there is such power in words. I had a wonderful book signing at Joy Bookstore, 2487 Stiegel Pike, Schaefferstown, PA . My sincere thanks to the owners, Jean and her son Tim who supported me in this. I met so very many nice people and talked with every one of them. And again, I saw a tear or two crease their brow. Oh, there is such power in words. Speak a word today, hug someone with your thoughts, and watch a heart change forever….God bless dear friends.

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Wonder if…..

published 10/5/2022

“Tony the Lonely Dandelion”

I wonder what would happen if we truly took the time to look into the heart of a child. They are always so jubilant and full of life that often we can miss the turmoil that might be going on in their little hearts. I wonder also how many of us can remember a particular time in our childhood when we were bullied, or felt all alone in the world, and no one knew this, except us. October is National Bullying Prevention Month. Statistics show that 1 out of 5 students report being bullied in school. The sad thing is that so often the children being bullied at school are also having a struggle with abuse in their homes also. This leaves the child feeling so alone and without hope.

“Tony the Lonely Dandelion”

My newest book “Tony the Lonely Dandelion” is a story of Tony overcoming his bullying and triumphing over all those who bullied him. Just newly released, I had written it many years ago for my children. In preparing it for publishing, I realized strangely enough that I could identify all the characters in the book from my childhood bullied days. Bullying leaves an impact on a child—but wonder if we can plant a seed of hope into a child, let them no how valuable they are, and that they are not what others say they are, but shine in their own light and identity. I will be having a Book Signing coming up on Friday, October 14, at JOY Bookstore located at 2487 Stiegel Pike, Schaefferstown, PA 17088, 717-949-6569 from 11:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. JOY Bookstore is also having a grand sidewalk sale then. 717-949-6569. I will be signing copies of my new releases–”Tony the Lonely Dandelion”, and “Amazing Grace, Heaven’s Light”, along with my other two releases, “The Shattering” and “The Shattering II”. Hope to see you all there. If not in the area feel free to private message me for your autographed copy. Remember the “Seeds of kindness return a hundredfold.” God’s richest blessings……

“Amazing Grace”
“The Shattering II” and “The Shattering”

copyright mlb 2022

Walk into Your Season….

published 9/13/2022

Have you ever noticed how subtly a change in season comes upon us? It is as if all of nature takes a pause, a deep breath, and then yields to the beauty that awaits it. The birds have a different song. The squirrels fleet back and forth, unsure of whether they should eat that nut or store it away. Even the flowers seem to push forth their last blooms in full splendor as if to celebrate and declare the fullness of their purpose. And so it is with life. Life is only mundane, if we fail to see the beauty of our season.

Author Marsha Barth

What a wonderful gift God has given us, this gift of living. For many years, my husband and I had a garden center. It encompassed our life with many joys, sorrows, and beauty. Now, we walk in a new season. A season that continues in transition. This is the joy of life, to walk and go forward into seasons that are ever unfolding before us.

Author Marsha Barth

“Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God has prepared for them that love him.” Had a great time on Saturday. Presented, “Wearing the Crown of Forgiveness” and then followed with a book signing of my books….”The Shattering”, “The Shattering II”, “Tony the Lonely Dandelion”, and “Amazing Grace, Heaven’s Light”. The joy is in seeing lives impacted, hope overcoming sorrow, peace conquering despair, victory triumphing over hardships. Walk into your season…..

copyright mlb 2022

Wearing Forgiveness as a Crown…..

published 9/6/2022

Ashes for beauty, he has promised us…I look back at my childhood now and no longer see the ashes, but the beauty. I remember not too long ago, when my granddaughter was only three years old and she and her four year old brother were playing. He took her “Dollie” and she said, “give it bak Maphew.” He laughed, and wouldn’t give it back. I watched them go back and forth letting them work it out until Savannah started to cry. Her brother, moved with compassion, said, “Here, Sabanah, you can have it,” and gave it back to her. Still sobbing, Savannah took her “Dollie” and said very firmly to her brother. “No! No Maphew. I never fagive you, no, not ever!” But her heart spoke louder than her words and within minutes they were playing together again. I can look back to my childhood and see beauty because of God’s wonderful gift of forgiveness.

I wear it today as a “crown of Victory”. We will only see ashes, if we live in unforgiveness. The joy of being free from the burden of unforgiveness is a choice, an experience, not a feeling, not a condonement, not a release of accountability, but a choice to cease to hold onto an anger that is destroying my heart, to release the debt that was owed to me, and to reach further into a path called Victory!”

Trade these ashes in for beauty

And wear forgiveness like a crown

Coming to kiss the feet of mercy

I lay every burden down

All welcome and invited to attend this free conference on September 10, 2022. See flyer.

copyright mlb 2022

“Are You My Friend?”

published 8/15/2022

“The Gang”….

The other day I was blessed to be with eight of my ten grandchildren. They range in age from one years old to fifteen years old. The blessing was being with them for five days. I was supposed to be watching them, but in hindsight, I realize that in many ways they were watching me. My three-year-old is at that precious age of where he is learning the ropes to be one of the big boys. There are seven boys and one girl. I heard him ask his seven-year-old brother one day, “Are you my friend?” And without hesitation, his brother answered simply, “yes”. A short time later, I heard him in the living room with the rest of his siblings, and he asked his nine-year-old brother, “Am I your best friend?” And again, without hesitation, he answered, “Yes.” He then asked his brother, “Can I have some of your cotton candy?” And, his answer was as simple as the first, “No.” My little guy continued to try to persuade his brother. This same little guy loves to pretend to talk


on the telephone. I caught him one day not long ago trying to play one of my old Vectrex video games. He couldn’t figure out how to turn it on. He didn’t know I was watching. He picked up the toy telephone that was beside him and talked into the phone and said, “Hey, dis machine is not wouking. Can you come fix it?” Such persistence. And yet, I heard him once again the other day on his phone saying, “Yea, uh huh?” And then, “okay, bye.” When he got off, I asked him who he was talking to? He said, PopPop. His other PopPop has been in the hospital. I asked, “How is PopPop doing?” He answered smiling, “He’s getting better.” I asked, “did you talk to Nana?” He said, “No,” and immediately got his invisible pretend phone and called her. “Uh, huh. Yes. How is PopPop? Ok, bye.” I said, “How is Nana?” “Ok.” “And PopPop?” “She said, ‘He’s getting better’.” My heart smiled. Later that night, before bed, the seven-year-old asked if we could pray for PopPop. And without knowing this my five-year-old little girl asked the same thing. Oh, how their little hearts have such great faith.


We spent our days, playing wild games of “Sorry”, horseshoes, blowing bubbles, and wild glow-stick parties at night. We talked and shared stories, put out fires when disagreements arose, and made memories. I learn from them. They learn from me. My heart smiles. “Are you my friend?” Always honey. Always!

copyright mlb 2022

“Magic of the Morn”…..

published 6/30/2022

Not long ago, I was presented with a lovely gift from my three year old grandson. He came running up to me and said, “Here, MeMaw, these are for you.” And then he presented me with two of the most beautiful flowers a grandma could ever receive- two beautiful yellow dandelions. “Everyone knew that the highest honor among the flowers was to be given to someone’s mommy” or grandma. (Quote from ‘Tony the Lonely Dandelion’). Can there be any gift greater than a gift of love? Oh that we could see beauty through a child’s eyes; how different our world would be. Little did he know how precious that gift of love really meant to me. Most of you know that I recently have lost my momma. There is a sorrow that comes with a loss of someone who has been so pivotal and instrumental in your life. We grasp for remnants of their love and want to refuse the truth that they have passed on to our eternal home. I have a great peace with mom’s passing as we had talked often about her going home to be with Jesus, and yet, there is this hole in your heart when someone passes on. God is such a good God. One who said, “Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have loved you, but you would not.” Oh, dear soul, how often He would comfort you, but you would not. Oh, America, America, how often has He loved you, but you would not. And yet, Joy comes in the morning. Joy doesn’t mean that our sorrow will be gone, it means that we can have peace in the sorrow. I went in to visit my momma’s place recently. There, I realize she is truly gone; and there I still feel closest to her. I sit on her porch and look at the view and I am carried away with my memories and am again reminded of a poem that my momma wrote long ago—

“Memories are made of many things,

that marks the time gone by,

Some happy ones, sort of sear your brain,

and stay picturesque inside.

The sad ones will stay awhile,

then melt away with tears,

Which leaves us with the time gone by,

the most picturesque of years. (Ethel Shaw)

While I was in and cleaning out some things, I ran across her copy of the devotional “Streams in the Desert”. She had it marked with the flap of the cover. I knew momma; that was the way she would mark her pages that she wanted to share with me. She would often call me up and read the whole passage to me. I took the book out on her porch and opened it. There in the pages laid a little wisp of momma’s hair. I softly felt the pages and then read the words, “Heaven is in the forget-me-not, though sorrow now be sorrow, Yet sorrow shall be beauty in the “magic of the morn.” David said it this way, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” Be blessed my friends…….

copyright 2022 marsha barth

We Are More Than Conquerors…..

Women’s Conference May 2022

I was reflecting back the other day on some of the battles that Mike and I have fought throughout our lives…Mike had said to me one day, “you know Mart, we do not live a normal life.” I had to laugh, because we don’t. We went to the store one day when we were young and saw two men robbing a woman at K-Mart-we chased them down. We chased down attempted robbers at our store years ago and held the one until the police came. We’ve survived floods at our business where they pumped 500,000 gallons of water off our land. My brother Pat and I watched a wreck explode right in front of us one time. My brother being a nurse, we stopped, and concerned the car would explode, we got the man out of the car. My brother gave CPR without hesitation, disregarding his life, as I held the man’s head in my lap and prayed for him. Mike and I have held our lifeless son in our arms and watched God breathe the breath of life back into him. We have fought legal battles, politics, injustices, and unexpected occurrences in the strangest places. Even in Disney, a man collapsed where we were at and again, as Mike called 911, I held the man’s head in my lap and prayed, as others did CPR. We prayed for a man that wrecked his motorcycle right in front of us. We could hardly get stopped as we were pulling a U-haul with our 67 Camaro. He was thrown over a bridge and managed to walk up the bank and we talked with him before the ambulance came. Why does God put us in the places He does?? Because we are more than conquerors in Christ. We are Victors!!! Do we lay down the sword? Never!!! Do we get too tired to battle and slay the dragons??? NO!!!! When do other lives not matter??? Do we do it in our own might or power?? “Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit,’ says the Lord of the armies.” Zechariah 4:6 We are more than conquerors….We are Victors….. I have never been sorry for not living normal. I begin to think normal may be highly overrated. Be blessed my friends…Spring Conference at Faith Fellowship Church 2022

copyright 2022 mlb

Happy Mother’s Day Momma…..

published 5/7/22

This is my first Mother’s Day without my momma. She told me many times when we talked about this day, “I’ll always be with you my baby”. But I wasn’t ready to let her go. This video popped up while I was watching a swan video. There is no explanation, except that God knew I needed to hear it. Thought it might encourage others in their time of loss. God constantly reminds me–“She knew how much you loved her.” And I knew how much she loved us. The rest we will understand by and by. Happy Happy Mother’s Day Momma.

Where Does Strength Come From….

published 4/26/2022
Marsha (Marty)Barth with advocate, and Lisa Ryan (Office of Victim Advocate)

As a child, I grew up in beautiful West Virginia. A place where the people radiate goodness and the mountains reflect the strength of their heart. Yesterday, I traveled to the capital in Harrisburg to speak at the Crime Victims Summit 2022. As an advocate, I truly believe we can make a difference. Edmond Burke stated back in the 1700’s, “Evil can only prevail, when good men do nothing.” In a day, where we are being confined in using our voice, we must cry out the louder. Truth must reign, even when others say it is not truth. Truth must reign, even if it is not popular. Truth must be heard, if we are to stand against the wrong that prevails in our midst. I was asked to speak on resilience. Resilience does not give us strength, strength gives us resilience. Resilience must not be a substitute for healing. Both healing and resilience are a journey, not a microwave fix.

Marty at 5 years old with her Cocker Spaniel and friend-“Mamie”.

I shared a part of my story where I found the strength that led me to resilience. A strength then, as it is now, something that I found in what my three brothers and I did every Sunday morning in our childhood. Every Sunday morning, we would get ourselves up and dressed, fix our breakfast and head out the door of our house. My one brother had an uncombed rooster tail sticking up and usually sported a black eye, my other brother usually had milk spilled on his shirt, and my other brother usually had his shirt half tucked in and the other half hanging out. I usually had scuffed shoes, and my hair going in all directions. But we walked up the dirt road, (it is still a dirt road), with our little Cocker Spaniel following us to the top of the hill. There our puppy would lay down and wait for us at the door of the country church. It was there that I found my strength, that I found my hope; not in people, not even in religion, but in a God that I mattered to. People need to know that they matter. It is the first thing that I tell the inmates when I go into the prisons, or re-entry or rehabs. YOU DO MATTER! God’s richest blessings to you.

Rebecca Buckham CAC, Marsha (Marty) Barth and Chris Kirchner Exe. Director, CAC (Children’s Advocacy Centers)

My thanks to CVAP (Crime Victims Alliance of PA), OVA (Office of Victim Advocate; Lisa Ryan), and CAC (Children’s Advocacy Centers; Chris Kirchner and Rebecca Buckham) for all the work that they are doing.

It Was a Blizzard…..

published 4/19/2022

Yesterday, Mike and I traveled up to Frackville, PA. I couldn’t get over how much the drive reminded me of my home area of WV. The mountainsides were covered in full with Rhododendrons just bursting ready to bloom. As we drove, I couldn’t help think of where we were heading and why. I was going to visit the Mahanoy SCI (State Correctional Institute). I have visited prison institutes for almost 20 years now. Of all the work that I do as an author, speaker, and advocate, this work is probably the most enlightening. Like the snowstorm that blinded me upon leaving the facility, you truly never know what to expect. But there is one thing that I have found throughout the years, and it has always been true on every visit of every facility that I have ever done—and that is, that lives can be forever changed, no matter where they are. Often, I have shared with Mike that always there is “the look” when I speak to the inmates, whether male or female. There is a look of—“what can you tell me, you’re all cleaned up, how can you begin to understand or even know where I am at?” And in part, that is true. But there is a God who knows the depth of every single soul that was in that room-from staff to inmate. A God, that every single soul that was there, matters to. The most amazing thing whenever I see that look, and I have seen that look at every visit, of every facility, rehab, and re-entry program that I have ever attended, is that I get to witness the transaction that follows. I have visited a lot of facilities in the last 20 years, from here and across the state of PA, to FL, VA, maximum security in MD, Kauai and Maui. In my last visit to the Maui facility, I visited 13 cell blocks—it took me 3 days to do this. And yet even then, there was “the look”. The look of great brokenness and hopelessness, the look of what they feel is a great gulf between them and me. But then I get to see the transformation as a God that loves them, reaches out and touches them with a new hope, a hope that is tangible and breaths life and passion into every soul that dares to reach out, grab it, and believe. I see this transformation in so many of the souls. It is not for me to know all that God is doing before me, it is enough to know that he is doing it. So just as unpredictable as a snow blizzard is on April 18, so often is the God that cares for every one of us, and walks with us through all of our many lives, in season and out of season. My many thanks to James Flores, Corrections Counselor and the wonderful staff who arranged this visit and welcomed me in the kindest and warmest way.

Copyright 2022 marsha barth

We Can Make a Difference

published 4/14/2022

April Is National Child Abuse Prevention Month. I’ve often had people ask me, wonder if I report my suspicion of child abuse and I’m wrong? I answer them and say, “Wonder if you’re right?” The report is given anonymously and no one is hurt if there is no wrong being done. The greatest weapon that abuse can wield is “silence”. We can make a difference. My thanks to “Children’s Advocacy Centers of PA. for all the work they are doing and the children they are rescuing. Childline 1-800-932-0313 We can Heal. We can make a difference.

Love Makes a Difference….

published 4/2/22

I was organizing the other day. Husband’s beware. 🙂 And I ran across this stuffed animal that was my son’s when he was a little boy. His ragged bow hung limply. His stuffing was coming out his one side and he looked so very sad. In my hurry, I almost passed him by, but then I stopped and picked him up. He looked even more sad and was very limp as I held him in my hands. It was as if he was saying, I am worn. I serve no purpose. I have no hope, my yesterdays are gone. I stood holding him and smiled. I said out loud, “You don’t know the love you gave, the difference you made, the joy and comfort you brought. Do you know today that that little boy that loved you so much is now a wonderful father of eight children? He nurtures them and cares for them the way he did you. You taught him that. He comforts and brings joy to others as you brought to him.” Our seeds of love are never lost, they just grow and spring forward and produce more. We should never feel lost of purpose. We cannot let our loss of our past blind us of what lies ahead. We have more to give, it’s just our seasons change. There are still those who need a smile of encouragement, those who need a helping hand, those who need a hug to know that tomorrow the sun will shine and that it can’t rain forever. I held the stuffed puppy one more time and smiled. The memories flooded through my heart of another era, but it brought me joy and not sorrow. Joy in knowing that love never dies but continues in our heart with the seeds of love that are planted there. And now it is up to us to go forward and to touch the hearts of others. We must not sit in our closets feeling lost and forlorn, but take the love that has been given to us and rise up and fulfill all the purposes of our life that God has so freely given to us. It is this loving God, whom all our strength and purpose come. Surely, He who loves us the most will sustain us, guide us, fortify us, and lead us forward as lights in a darkened world that cries out for a brighter tomorrow. Be blessed dear friends.

copyright 2022 marsha barth

How Could I Not See????

published 3/29/22

It’s very cold today. The wind is blowing and it is snowing, as if to convince me that I am still in the winter season. I look out my window and see the tall trees sway with power and force. But then I see very faintly, the brush of green, ever so lightly tinting the bushes. As I look closer, I see that the crocus’ have risen their tiny heads full of color. Then I see that the daffodils are blooming and in the distance the forsythia’s are in full color. How could I have missed these signs of the season? How could I have believed a lie that winter still had a hold on me? How could I not see???? We can become so blinded by the circumstances of our life; the hurt, the pain, the sorrow, and the confusion that we can miss the simple beauties that are in our midst. We can believe that the strong winds of life will always keep us hovering in the fear of what could be and in the pain of what we have lost. We can miss the signs of a new season that beckons us forward, by staying in a season that robs us of the promises of God. Oh, those promises, I see them every day—in the smiles of my grandchildren, in the sweet harmony of their birthday song to me over the phone, in the sweetness of my husband’s voice, in a friend’s card to me for comfort, in knowing that God’s presence walks with me through every season of life; loving me, protecting me and always revealing to me the reality of his presence. Be blessed my friends. (Marty)🥰

copyright 2022 mlb

My Momma~~

published 3/29/22

“My Momma” 1934-2022

I walked down the halls that are all too familiar now. Amidst the swirling of my heart and mind, I cannot help noticing the pictures on the wall that remind me that Momma has been here before. The hospital feels cold and friendless as I walk towards Momma’s room as I have so many times. But today is different. Different in a way that I didn’t expect. I didn’t know that today would be the day that I would have to say goodbye to Momma. We had talked many times of this day, but neither one of us knew how to say goodbye. Sometimes, there are no words to really say goodbye. Momma, had a spirit, all her own. She wrote one time that her sister-Shirley had the stubbornness, that she had the temper, and her sister Joanie-patience. What she didn’t write was that she loved deeply. My mom had the capability of touching every single heart that she met and leaving an impact on them. She would be the first to tell you that she had made mistakes in her life, these she regretted the most. I know even before she passed, she tried to make sure that those she loved knew this. There is a peace in facing our giants and laying them at the feet of those we love. I believe my Momma did this. If you ever knew her, you knew she had the compassion of a lamb and the fire of a lion. She was quick to say she was sorry and to mean it, and she truly hated when she hurt someone’s feelings. She wrestled often with her lion and lamb—the lamb always won. My Momma was the one who loved us. She worked hard in a factory pressing 24 dozen garments a day. She bought all of our school clothes, Easter outfits, shoes and anything that we needed. I remember one time I asked her for a large box of Crayola crayons, which seems a simple thing. But for me, I wanted them terribly and I knew that she had very little money. She surprised me with them a week later. She took us for ice cream cones at the old Queen City Dairy, she popped popcorn and took us to the drive-in. She couldn’t afford to pay for all of us, so she had my brothers and step-brother jump in the trunk of the car while her, my step-sisters, and I sat in the car. I don’t remember the movie we saw that time, only the look on the surrounding people in their cars as we popped the trunk and the four boys tumbled out one by one. She took us swimming, made great chili-mac and runny fudge. Momma was the one that saw me struggling when I was thirteen. She stopped everything she was doing, took some vacation days off from work and just her and I went to Ocean City, MD. She knew I loved the ocean. Momma had all four of us by the time that she was 19 years old, so she kind of grew up with us. She played ball with us, hitting me squarely in the head with the bat accidentally when I was a kid. She bought me my first bike. She bought me my piano and made payments on it until it was paid. I still have that piano. I had a bad foot and she took me to doctors and rubbed it until it got better. I can remember her putting a cold cloth on my head when I was sick and a warm towel from the space heater stove on my ear when I had an earache. She loved to win. I mean really loved to win. Rarely, did I beat her at Rummy. She loved bingo and bowling,crossword puzzles, and writing poetry. I remember one time when I was very small I couldn’t sleep. I had my light still on and she came in and talked to me. She was not a religious person but knew the heart of a Jesus that loved. She told me she didn’t know how to pray but that she would pray with me that Jesus would help me. I remember her talking to me about the important things of life—to always be kind and never make fun of others, stand up for what is right, and to be more than what others thought you could be. I remember when I was 5, Pat was 6, Terry was 7 and Don was 8. (Don was glad he was not with us that day), we had bullied a boy. When Momma found out, she marched us down the hill, up another one, and right to the boys house and made us go to the door by ourselves and apologize. She told me when I had friends that were not good for me. She didn’t like my first boy-friend and she told me so-kindly with love. She adored my husband from the first day she met him until the day she died. She called him son. She told me things that she wished someone had told her. She had had a very hard life and always wanted more for us. She loved us without any motives or hidden agendas. She just loved us. She believed in every one of us. She loved the simple things of life. She loved her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She loved people and always wanted to hug everyone she met, whether they wanted to be hugged or not. I told her just the other day, “No, mom, you can’t hug the doctor.” She never could understand why people would refuse a hug.

Momma and me often had talks about her passing. I told her I didn’t know how I’d be able to deal with her not being here. She said to me, “I’ll always be with you “my baby”. We talked about heaven just a few weeks ago. I asked her how she felt about dying. She thought just a moment with that thoughtful look she’d get and then said, “I feel good about it.” And yet in the weeks to come I know she did some deep soul searching and confronted some issues that had long bothered her.

See, we all need to search our hearts. But not by our own-with God. We need to face the giants of our life-and we can do this with God, because He gives us Grace and Mercy—Grace saves us and Mercy keeps us. Grace was given to keep us from falling—and mercy was given to keep us when we do. Mercy is given not to justify us in our sins, but to deliver us out of our sin.

When, I remember mom, I will always remember what she said in one of her poems–

Memories are made of many things,

that marks the time gone by,

Some happy ones, sort of sear your brain,

and stay picturesque inside.

The sad ones will stay awhile,

then melt away with tears,

Which leaves us with the time gone by,

the most picturesque of years.

“The sad ones will stay only a while and then will melt away with tears.”

Her one grandson was able to tell her goodbye—He probably says it best. “I love you grandma—I’ll see you in heaven.”

Loved and sadly missed~~Your family

copyright 2022 mlb

Fight the Good Fight….

published 1/29/22

Momma and Great-Grandson Evan…..

My momma is 87 years old. She has been my friend, my defender, my encourager, my momma. Recently she was ill and I had to take her to the hospital. I had consulted with her doctors and we had done everything at home that we could possibly do. There was a great risk factor, in taking my momma to the hospital. A “simple” cold could kill her with her COPD. The Covid would be devastating. It was with great reluctance that my daughter and I took her to the ER. This is not the time, if at all possible, to have a loved one in the hospital. I truly commend those on the medical front lines who have bravely fought for our loved ones at great personal expense and for all you have suffered from the fallout of Covid. I had to wonder if many of you faithful workers have left a field that was not kind to you, in light of what happened to my momma. The medical field has changed drastically in a very short time. I hesitated to write this but felt it necessary. Now is the time for America to wake up, stand up, and claim the rights that we still have, before they are gone. I would encourage every person that if you have a loved one—DO NOT take them to the hospital UNLESS you are going to be there tirelessly to advocate for them and be very familiar with your Federal Patient’s Bill of Rights. You must be able to speak up, speak out, and not be afraid, or try to run a popularity contest, because you will meet with stronger opposition than you have ever known. When we got to the hospital, we learned that momma not only had COPD complications, but was in A-fib. You try to work with the health system, you try to weigh your words, to understand the impact that Covid has had on the medical community, and to be kind, but from the beginning there were things I did not understand and it didn’t take long before I had to speak up. Upon registering my mom, naturally, and rightfully so, a Covid test was done. I expected this….but not for the one registering her to declare that she was sure that momma had Covid before the test even came back and this to an 87 year old woman in A-fib. As she continued to say this over and over again, I stated that momma was not to be put into a Covid area until the test came back. Immediately, two attendants tried to wheel her into a Covid waiting room, wherein my daughter and I stood in the doorway and said no. As we waited in the hallway, an attendant went to take momma back to the ER. As, I went to go with her, I was told, “no,” that I couldn’t go back. I said to them, that IF the test came back positive, I would agree, but until the test came back, I was going to stay with her. They pushed back, but I stood firm. I also notified them that in the event that she did have Covid, I would take her home to treat her there, that she would not be admitted. The first Dr. that came to see her, a cardiologist, bucked heads with me immediately. I tried patiently to explain her medical history, but he continued to provoke and belittle both of us. His words were exactly, “When that Covid test comes back positive, and it will!!! You will DIE!!!! My remarks were civil–”You might want to wait until the test comes back”. But inside, the “hillbilly” Marty was telling him a thing or two. The next Dr. was not any different. He was as rude and abrupt as the first. He barraged us with Covid info, hammered us up one side and down the other-and then turned to me and asked, “So why are you here today?” I said, “because she is having a COPD flare-up.” He looked angrily at me, and then poised himself and said roughly, “I didn’t ask you for a diagnosis. I asked you why you are here!” The Covid test came back negative. Before momma was admitted, I discussed with the nurses and then the Dr. that momma was to be a full-code with the exception that she did not want the use of a Bi-pap mask or intubation (ventilator) as with her weakened lungs, doctors had already told us that either process could kill her. We went from bad to worse—the refusal to give her the blood thinner that she took daily which as a supplement from her pharmacy and doctor to prevent strokes; to refusal to give her, her rescue inhaler—stating it was “not evidence based ”, to no bath in 3 days, to a basketball size beginning of a bedsore within 2 days. Her finger was injured there and staff refused to do a MRI-I insisted-it showed an injured tendon. MRI’s and medicine adjustments declared to me that would be done on that day were not done until 3 days later, and only per my insistence on them doing what they had stated. The Physician’s Asst. had taken off and no follow-up. There were nurses who hung up on me, DNR (Do Not RESUSCITATE) bands put on momma’s arm against her wishes, and so many other life risk situations that were done that I made up reports and submitted them to the “Patient’s Advocate”.My momma is back home and working hard on recovery. She is worth every ounce of fight that I have in me. When it is God’s time, she will go home, eternally. We do not fight against death—we fight for life. Death is not a foe, but can even be a friend. But our God has the keys to death and hell. No one has the right to take those keys from God or a loved one who does desire to see the sun shine again. There will come a day, when momma will say, “I want to go home.” And I will hug her and say, “it’s alright momma, go home to Him who waits for you. I will meet you there someday.” Fight dear friends, warn the wicked, save the weak. Fight the good fight of faith!…..when you give him not warning, nor speak to warn the wicked from his wicked way,…. his judgment is required at our hand. Ezekiel 33:8

copyright mlb 2022

I Love Christmas….


I love Christmas. For me it is all the goodness of God shining through to man, a ray of hope–a hope in a world that is gripped in fear. The other day I was decorating the trees. I have a memory tree that has every special ornament that I have ever received. And I have the village tree that my grandchildren adore. While decorating the village tree, I noticed that the church was actually named-Jeremiah’s Chapel. I thought this a strange name to call a chapel but I couldn’t help thinking of the great promise of hope that Jeremiah gave to all of us in Jeremiah 29:11. Jeremiah is often referred to as the “weeping prophet” and yet he says, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.” I can’t help but think of the elderly man that I saw sitting in his car in the parking lot the other day. I noticed him because strangely enough the music was loudly coming from his car. It was an old traditional Christmas song. For a second our eyes met, he seemed a little embarrassed that I had seen him enjoying the song. My heart smiled. Christmas is not just for our children. Christmas is a symbol more than a day of the year. It is a symbol of a Hope that was born that day. A Hope that desires to resound in our hearts and let us know that we are never alone, even in the most sorrowful of times. I met a woman who worked in a store I frequent quite often. I often wondered why she was so solemn and never smiled. As I checked out with my goodies for the grandchildren and family, we began to talk for the first time. She told me that her husband often said to her, just buy what you want throughout the year for your Christmas present. The Lord checked my heart, I had caught that she used the word “said” in past tense. I gently asked her, “Has your husband passed?” A wave of sadness crossed her face erasing the terseness that I often had seen. She said, “He passed last year, right before Christmas.” My heart ached for her and she continued slowly, Christmas is not the same for me since the children are gone.” Again, God tugged at my heart and I asked her what had happened. I felt she needed to know that a stranger cared. I saw that same wave of sorrow sweep over her face once again. She said, “I lost both my son and daughter a few years ago in a car accident right before Christmas.” I wanted to hug her. A line was forming, and I could tell that she could say no more. I asked her what her name was and with a sad smile, she said, “Holly”. I told her I would pray for her and hoped that my eyes told her more than my words. I left the store with tears coming down my face. And then I thought, of all names, her name was “Holly”. I will remember Holly throughout this holiday season. And though, her Christmas will be unlike so many of ours, there are so many like her who are facing such great sorrow. As I continued to decorate the village tree, the words of the Christmas song playing in the distance seemed to awaken me, “yet in thy dark streets shineth, the everlasting light, the hopes and fears of all the years are met in THEE tonight. For Christ is born of Mary and gathered all above, while mortals sleep, the angels keep their watch of wond’ring love.” May the Hope that was born that day, give you love that you felt was gone, peace that comforts you, and a gift of joy that you are loved beyond measure. “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.” Isaiah 9:6 Love and prayers~~~”Marty” Merry Christmas dear friends and may you know that you are so loved and appreciated.

copyright mlb 2022

A Time to Share….

published 12/11/21

Christmas is such a wonderful time to share. There is still time to order these books for great Christmas’ gifts. All can be personally autographed.

New Releases this year: Written and illustrated by Marsha Barth “Tony the Lonely Dandelion” -A children’s book for all ages on bullying. Who says a dandelion can’t be a beautiful flower? “Amazing Grace-Heaven’s Light”–An inspiring novel on the joys of heaven that awaits us and the reality of a God who truly loves every one of us. Full of mystery and intrigue. Wonder if heaven so surpasses all of what we have ever thought or dreamed about?

Also: “The Shattering-A Child’s Innocence Betrayed” and “The Shattering II-Breaking the Silence”–two true stories of inspiration and the joy of overcoming. We are more than victims—we are VICTORS!! Sincere blessings……Marsha (Marty) Barth

Copyright 2021 marsha barth

We Can Make a Difference…..

Published 10/31/21

Years ago, my husband and I ran our own business. We had a beautiful garden center and gift shop. We met thousands of wonderful people who more than customers, became our friends. One day, a family with a little boy came in to visit. I was very young at the time, but almost instantly my heart began to break for the little boy. It seemed that the parents were constraining to hold back their disdain and abuse for this child. They were ever so careful when they saw me watching. The body language, the few words said, their treatment of him said it all. But I felt I could do nothing. Still, I planned-when they checked out- that I would get their information via a credit card or check and see what I could do for the child, but they soon left. This troubled me often. I still think of him today. Today, I speak out for those who can’t. I recently had the opportunity to work with (CAC) Children’s Advocacy Center of Pennsylvania. I tell my story to help others. There is no fear or shame, or guilt or blame. My books-”The Shattering” and “The Shattering II” are my true story of how one thread of hope changed my life forever. They are stories of inspiration. We can go from victim to Victor. I marvel at all God has done in my life and thank Him for giving me this opportunity. We can make a difference!

copyright 2021 marsha barth

Have You Not Heard?

published 10/29/21

Isaiah 40:28-31

Have You Not Known? How beautiful is the world we live in. It truly is. The beauty lies before us. It all depends on where we focus. I looked out the window this morning as I said a morning prayer. I hadn’t noticed that the leaves were changing from their rich green, to yellow blushed with orange, to bright red. How had I missed this beautiful change of season? Life is so full of the seasons of our life ever changing. I watched as a gentle wind brought the leaves floating through the air ever so gently. They floated through the air as if welcoming the change. Their vibrant colors danced across the yard, some twirling, some skipping, all as if rejoicing that another season was being beckoned. Change is not a bad thing. It can make us mount up higher, on eagles wings, to flights that we would have never taken on our own. I read a beautiful scripture the other day and it has been a word of strength to me. (mlb) Have you not known? Have you not heard? The everlasting God, the Lord, The Creator of the ends of the earth, Neither faints nor is weary. His understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, And to those who have no might He increases strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, And the young men shall utterly fall, But those who wait on the Lord Shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint.

Copyright 2021 marsha barth

What Do You Do When You Can’t Go and You Can’t Stay???

published 10/20/21

The first time I ran away as a kid, I was probably about five years old. My oldest brother had shot my grandpap in the forehead with a glob of mud from his pop gun. He talked all three of us into running away from home with him so he wouldn’t get into trouble. You can probably guess how that turned out. But on a more serious note, I actually did run away from home when I was about sixteen years old. Things had gotten really bad with my dad’s drinking and it looked like my dad and stepmother were going to separate for good. So, I decided that I had no choices. I only knew that I couldn’t stay at home. My brothers were grown and had left home. I knew that I couldn’t live alone with my dad and endure his abuse. It is hard for people to understand the dynamics and impact that abuse has on any person, even more so a child. The fear of the unknown, not knowing what to do, what choices to make, or even what choices are available, seem overwhelming and can completely debilitate the person, putting them in a state of shock, paralyzing them with doubts and fears.

Many of you know that I am an author, speaker and advocate. Recently, I submitted a workshop for the Pathways for Victim Services Virtual Conference and was selected to present it at this conference. This is a free virtual conference to any one who wants to attend and is presented by the Pennsylvania Commission on Crime and Delinquency-Office of Victims’ Services. Registration must be completed by October 21, 2021 for the sessions desired to attend. The conference runs from October 26-October 28. I present my workshop–”Going from Victim to Victor” on Tuesday, October 26 at 9:15-10:00 a.m.

It is my goal to provide a workshop to advocacy communities to better understand the victims’ perception and perspective in order to lead them to the resources that will enable the victim to become whole again in all aspects of their lives. Please see the attached flier for more information or visit the website at

All are welcome.

copyright 2021 marshabarth

A Still Small Voice…..

published 10/19/21

Selection from book “Amazing Grace…Heaven’s Light” by Marsha Barth

A Still Small Voice…..There are voices that we need to hear, but so often we cannot hear them because of the noise around us that drowns them out. Sometimes, we may not hear them because it is not what we want to hear. But if we desire to listen, we can hear, we can speak, and we can make a difference. I was blessed to speak and be a part of The Voices Conference in York, PA. My sincere thanks to Pastor Vince Wood, Providence Presbyterian Church, and Delilah Rumburg for this opportunity, their kindness, and hospitality.“And behold the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces…but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire…..a still small voice…..” 1 Kings 19:11-12 “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

copyright marshabarth 2021

We Fly Again…….

published 9/26/21

I saw a beautiful monarch butterfly the other day in the strangest place, on the pavement in a parking lot. He was trying desperately to fly but couldn’t. I reached down, thinking he would surely fly away, but he couldn’t. I picked him up gently by his wings and placed him on top of the garbage can. I thought the height would help him to lift off better. It was only then that I noticed that he only had one wing. I felt very sad that something so beautiful and with such a profound destiny would never fly again. A few days later, I was outside and as I came in the back door, startled, I saw a big walking stick. He began to cautiously walk away. He was so agile. I was fascinated by him. He truly looked like a wooden stick walking by itself. As he walked, I clearly noticed that he had only 5 legs. I counted them several times, thinking one must be tucked behind the other, but there were only 5 legs. I stood watching him. There was no limp, no imbalance, he was steady and sure and seemed totally unabated as he continued on. An interesting fact that I didn’t know at the time is that walking sticks can often regenerate a limb that is missing. However, an adult butterfly that is fully formed cannot grow and won’t heal and probably will never fly again. Many would think that the butterfly has missed their destiny and that their life is valueless but in reality if the butterfly is female and has already mated, she could still lay eggs and fulfill a great purpose and likewise a male could still fulfill a valuable purpose in mating. Our destinies are not determined by the expectations of what others think we should be. Our destinies are determined by what God’s purposes are for our life. We never get too old to fulfill our destiny and God-given purposes. I like to help the broken and shattered. Like the butterfly and the walking stick it doesn’t matter if they are missing a wing, or a leg. I see the beauty in what they can be. Sometimes, they just need a chance. Sometimes, a tender touch, a kind word, an act of love, mercy, or even a strong dose of truth can save the broken and shattered if we are willing to just reach down and lift them up out of the danger and help them to see their full potential. I am blessed and have totally enjoyed working with the Children’s Advocacy Centers of Pennsylvania this year. The other day they sent me a poster that they had made from the blog that I had written for them.

The work that they are doing will rescue many children who’s wings seemed to have been clipped. Little do the children know that they will fly again-soar to the highest heights, because someone reached out to care and made a difference.

copyright 2021 Marsha Barth

Never Give Up Hope……..

published 9/13/2021

Michael and Missy Barth…

I was raised in Wiley Ford, WV. Every Sunday, my brothers and I walked up the mountain to attend the little church that sat at the top of the hill. Many years have passed, and yet every day, I still see the hand of God fulfilling the many promises that He gave to me when I was that small child. Never give up hope. Always know that Jesus is the solution and never the cause. I have had requests for the link to the CBN 700 Club Interview that my son and his wife did. There are so many more stories in this one—the night I held my son in my arms when he was only 4 and he wasn’t breathing; the diagnosis that said he had a medical condition that required medicine that could make him sterile; that he should have been brain damaged from the lack of oxygen that night, and instead went on to score the first perfect math PSAT ever in his Junior High, to a perfect math SAT in ninth grade-the first in the history of his High School. He married his Missy and they so wanted a child but it never happened. Six years went by and nothing the doctors suggested worked—but then God…..Now they have 8 children. And there are so many miracles—not because of us, or our might or power-but because of the faithfulness of a God that loves us and that we all truly matter to. Here is their story……..?

copyright 2021 marsha barth

God’s Goodness Always Shines…….

published 9/13/21

To our friends and loved ones…Just had to share this event… Our son, wife and grandchildren will appear on The 700 Club tomorrow….

We lost our son at 4 years old when he quit breathing-but God gave him back to us. Both him and our daughter have been our greatest blessings in life, along with our dear Missy and our 10 grandchildren-8 of whom are Mike and Missy’s. Mike and Missy and our grandchildren will appear on the 700 Club tomorrow, Monday, September 13, for an interview and testimony of God’s goodness in their lives. The 700 Club airs on the channels–“Freeform” and also “TBN”. Cable channels vary so time slots may vary. We rejoice in the multitude of goodness that God has shown in our lives, our children’s, and our precious grandchildren. ?

Truth Sets Us Free….

published 9/5/21

“The way to right wrongs is to turn the light of truth upon them.” Ida B. Wells

Many of you know from reading my books…”The Shattering” and “The Shattering II”, that I have three older brothers. I am the youngest and the only girl. When we were little, we did everything together. We were inseparable. We got the measles together, we hiked together, played army and marbles together, and even football. I remember one time, the four of us got together as we so often did and made a vow to each other. Actually, it was a vow to God. People do not always take vows seriously these days—to each other-and sadly to God. But at nine years old, I took this very seriously. We each put our hand on a Bible that we had received from Sunday School and vowed to God that we wouldn’t tell a lie. It scared me to death. So much so, that I drove my brothers nuts adding a “maybe” to every question they asked me. There is a beauty in TRUTH, though. Truth-truly sets us free. Telling the truth as a child reminded me of our visits to the South Branch of the Potomac where we swam. I’d step into the water and the cold water would just chill me to the bone. I’d inch out little by little until I couldn’t stand it anymore and finally I’d say-”what the heck”-and I’d just dive into the water. Truth is like this. Just jump right into it—it may chill you at first-but there is something invigorating when you speak truth—it truly sets you free. I am involved in working with advocacy against abuse. We have a long way to go to help those who live in fear and terror with their abuse—especially children. We cannot help, unless we speak truth and face these issues. No longer can we wrap truth in a garment of taboo and just hope that it will go away. I recently had an opportunity to work with “Children’s Advocacy Centers of Pennsylvania”. This organization’s mission to help the children, reaches across the whole state of Pennsylvania. Their intervention is rescuing many children and enabling them to heal, giving them a hope-that truth can set them free. I was asked to share my story on their site and the work that I am doing. Here is the link to their site. Truth does set us free—and we can go from Victim to Victor!!! God Bless…….Marty

Copyright 2021 Marsha Barth

Never Waste a Wish-maker…..

published 8/28/21

When I was very young we called them fairies, later when I was older they were just wish-makers. I sat on the glider under one of my favorite trees the other day. I hadn’t had a chance to do this all summer. A gentle warm breeze brushed past me as I read the final draft of “Amazing Grace: Heaven’s Light”. I was on a deadline to finish it so it could get to the printers. Suddenly and unexpectedly, it floated right into my hand, out of nowhere. It was a fuzzy white wish-maker. I quickly clamped my hand around it. One should never waste a wish-maker. I put the book down and opened my hand slowly as if a child revealing some great treasure. I closed my eyes and I was eight again. I made a special wish, adding extra “ands” to it and then sat and pondered the special things that God brings into our lives. God seems to have a special way to take us away from the whirlwind of life, its demands, and the gotta get done things that can press us so. I looked around me and saw the flowers that still bloomed, as others faded in these last days of summer. I heard the birds singing, making beautiful music for any that would listen. I watched as a butterfly fleeted from bush to bush as if it was dancing in the sunlight. The aromas of late summer filled the air with a beautiful fragrance. Oh, the simple joys of life that are always before us. Oh, the precious still voice of God that talks to our heart when we take a moment to hear it. I sat and thought of my grandchildren who I had gotten to spend some time with the last few weeks. I heard their laughter, their voices asking me questions, their smiles that are etched in my heart forever. God is so good. He opens doors that cannot be closed. He closes doors that cannot be opened. He is a steadfast hope that will never fail us and will always lead us forward. I have a desire in my heart to spread that “Hope” in any way that I can on my journey of life. I am blessed to have “Amazing Grace: Heaven’s Light” go to print. My thanks to Robert D. Reed Publishers for their support and belief in this work. They enable me to spread that “Hope” that is so very real. It will be released in a few weeks.

I was also blessed to go into our local prison with my dear friend Theresa Johnson. This is the first time since the Covid Pandemic, a year and a half, that the prisons were able to open their doors for us to safely visit. Our thanks to Marilyn Nolte, Chaplain at the Lebanon Correctional Facility for this opportunity. It is the “Hope” that is planted in the inmates hearts that drives us forward. To see our Jesus touch their hearts and give them a hope in the midst of what is probably the darkest season of their lives fills us with joy and victory. We truly are more than conquerors. Every single one of us can walk this blessed path and become “Victors”. Love you my dear friends……

Copyright 2021 Marsha Barth

A Still Small Voice…..

published 7/18/21

The other day I was with my mom. This alone is a precious moment for me because she is almost 87 years old. We had a very busy day as I wanted to help her with some things while I was in to visit with her. Her health has been bad and all of the family has been pulling together and helping out. I was actually on the phone and she was driving. She actually is still a good driver and needs her independence. I do wear my seat belt though. ? While on the phone, she turned to me and said, “Marty, Marty, look, there are our clouds.” I barely heard her because I was taking care of the things that needed to be done. But I did hear her. I will forever, all of my days, smile when I see clouds that are purest white and puffy like cotton candy and etched in the bluest of blue skies. They will always be precious to my heart and I will always hear my mamma’s voice saying—”Look Mart, there are our clouds.” We must always never let the busy-ness and necessities of this life that demands so very much of us—rob us of the preciousness of what life is truly all about. We search for love, joy, hope, peace, encouragement and times of refreshing, but so often we find these in God’s still small voice. “And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice.” I Kings 19:11-12.

Copyright 2021 Marsha Barth

A Need to Be Loved….

published 5/25/21

Had a wonderful opportunity to speak at Providence Presbyterian Church to a lovely group of women. Many years ago, when my grandson was very small, I asked him if he wanted to go for a walk in the woods with me. He looked up at me with those beautiful big blue eyes and said, “No, MaMaw.” I asked him why, and he again looked up at me, his eyes wider than ever. He hesitated and then said as if divulging a secret, “There’s monsters in the woods, MaMaw.” I would’ve never laughed at his fear but my heart was so touched. I said, “Honey, there are no monsters in MaMaw’s woods-Jesus wouldn’t let any monsters be in her woods.” But he shook his head slightly and again looked up at me and then earnestly said, “There are MaMaw, because Renee told me there were.” Renee was his little friend. I said, “How about you take my hand, and we’ll walk in the woods, and I’ll show you there are no monsters in the woods.” He did not hesitate to take my hand. We walked through the woods holding each others hand, not missing a single trail, and then back out into the yard once again. He looked at me as if surprised. “See,” I said, “MaMaw told you there were no monsters in the woods.” I will always treasure that look of trust and that sweet smile that gleamed from his tiny face. You see, we are not any different. We too, in this life, have often feared the monsters in our woods. But all it takes is for us to reach out and take our Savior’s hand and walk with Him. He will show us that there are no monsters in our woods and that truly we can trust Him to keep us. We all have a need to be loved and a need to give love. It is in the cleft of the rock, under the shadow of His wings that we find comfort, love, and trust for the path that we must walk in this life. My sincere thanks to Laura Cowburn, Robin Wood, Brittany Wood and all of the wonderful women at Providence Presbyterian Church who arranged this event and made me feel so welcome. God Bless….and always know you are loved and that you matter.

Copyright 2021 Marsha Barth

Climb That Mountain…..

published 5/16/21

I told a friend the other day that mountains are hard to climb, but the view is always best from up there. The question always remains—will we climb the mountain? Will we persevere when the paths of life seem too steep to climb??? Will we walk onward when the goal seems too hard to reach??? Will we look upward from whence comes our help and our redemption draws nigh??? Giving up is never an option. We have too much to gain to lose. Had a wonderful time of refreshing, meeting new friends, and sharing the Word together at the “Bloom Where You Are Planted” Seminar.

Bloom Where You Are Planted….

published 5/13/2021

Have you ever noticed that trees don’t have feet???? There is a beauty in being planted. Only things that are planted can bring forth blossoms and fruits. We can’t grow or bloom if we are not anchored. What are you anchored in??? Do you desire to bloom???? “What shall separate you from being planted in the Love of Jesus—shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword—shall discouragement, doubts, fears, anger, hurt, unforgiveness, pain and sorrow? No, for in all of these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans: 8:35-39

All welcome to come join us in this great day of fellowship and encouraging word!!!

This Is How We Fight Our Giants……..

published 4/19/21

Many of my friends who know me often ask me how things are going? Some days~~not wanting to complain~~and not wanting to lie, I wasn’t sure how to answer them. So, I began to answer them with a smile~~”Slaying Dragons”. I always enjoyed their responses that varied greatly. Some look puzzled, while others smiled broadly and nodded, understanding. We all have dragons to slay, giants to bring down. But we cannot do this ourselves. We need to know how to slay our giants. For my local friends~~you are welcome to join us (Women’s Meeting) this evening at Faith Fellowship Church at 6:00 to hear more on “This is How We Fight our Battles”…721 E Penn Ave, Cleona, PA 17042 (717) 274-1350Phone: (717) 274-1350

Through the Eyes of a Child…..

published 4/6/2021

Have you ever looked into the eyes of a child??? They tell you everything. You can see to the depths of their very soul; every emotion of love, sweetness, fear, hurt, pain, joy, anger. They hide nothing. When I look into the eyes of my grandchildren, I see a whole new world. I see their dreams for tomorrow. I see their fears of the dark. I see their mischievous twinkle. I see their love way before I feel the hugs. They light your heart with a newness of life that seems to flow from heaven itself. There is such truth in that we must become as these little children to even enter heaven. Our children are our most precious legacy. So how can anyone hurt a child???? There is never any acceptable reason.

April is National Child Abuse Prevention Month. Every time you are even just suspicious of a child being abused—report it. Call 1-800-4ACHILD (1-800-422-4453) The first question I always get asked in reporting suspected child abuse is-”But what if I’m wrong?” My answer to them is “But what if you are right?” Always err for the child’s cause. Reporting is anonymous, and is based on suspicion, not facts. Each case is investigated and if there is no abuse—no one is hurt. But how many children are hurt and would be rescued if just one adult would make that call. Our children were never meant to be scapegoats for the fallout of the adults’ problems. Did you know that in a household where there is multiple cases of domestic violence that the child’s risk of abuse is at 100% and at 150% greater risk for sexual abuse? These are statistics that make us want to look the other way. But I ask you—don’t look away—look into the eyes of the children you see—at the store, on the playground—at school—at church—at the ball games. Their eyes will tell us—but are we listening????

I was thankful to be able to participate in an interview for Children’s Advocacy Centers of Pennsylvania on March 15, 2021. My sincere thanks to Rebecca Buckham, Communications Manager, for this opportunity to be a part of this filming and project.

Be Encouraged….Never Give Up…..

published 2/5/21

copyright marshabarth 2021

“Tony the Lonely Dandelion….”

published 1/11/2021

I have a soft spot in my heart for children. Maybe it is because a part of me has never grown up. ? Bullying is not a new thing, if truth were to be told. I wonder how many of us would answer yes, if asked if you were ever bullied. Earlier in 2020, I felt God lead me to pull out a book that I had written for my children, many years ago, when they were toddlers. I can still remember the day that I was given a “beautiful” dandelion as a gift of love. The excitement that was shared over this one poor little dandelion still makes my heart smile to this day. Oh the love that radiated from this one precious treasure that my children had found, and the joy that their little hearts experienced in giving it to me as a gift. Hence, “Tony the Lonely Dandelion” was born. I don’t know when, in looking back, that it clicked, that most of the characters in this book, I could identify. I can only say that in doing the reviews I definitely could place almost every character in the book to a person in my childhood. Strangely enough, one of the main characters in the book, had a profound impact on me. Long after I had drawn the characters, and upon doing the many reviews, it hit me one day who “Mr. Gruff” was in the book. I looked at the picture and smiled to myself, and said, “oh my goodness, that’s Mr. Waggley”. Mr. Waggley, was my seventh grade teacher. It is a very sad thing when you think about it, that honestly in my lifetime, I have never talked to any of my childhood friends and heard anyone speak fondly of Mr. Waggley. You would think that someone along the way would have had a kind word to say about a teacher that had the potential to impact so many lives. But I never have heard of any encouraging remarks. I can remember the seventh grade particularly. It was a very hard year for me. There were a lot of things happening in our family at that time. Back then, the teachers used to call out our test grades in front of the whole class. I usually did okay on my tests and this didn’t bother me for myself so much. But, I would always cringe and hurt for the friends that had their grades called out in front of the whole class and so often were humiliated. I knew, even then, how it tore away their dignity and stamped an element of identity on them that just was not true. On one of my first experiences in Mr. Waggely’s class, I can remember him going down the list alphabetically and calling out our test scores. When he got to “Layton” (which is my maiden name), he stopped and paused. I could feel my face get red as I waited for him to continue. My mind raced in embarrassment as I wondered if I had messed up on the test. He then continued, “Layton, 98. You must have lucked out or studied awfully hard.” I remember feeling a flood of relief and anger fill my heart all at the same time as he nonchalantly continued down the list. I can remember thinking, “So a Layton is just lucky to get a good test score. A Layton has to study hard to get a good test score. So a Layton is just stupid and will never amount to anything?” This was a hard blow on top of everything else that was going on in my life. I remember to this day saying in my heart, “I will show you who a Layton is. I will ace every test and show you what a Layton can do!” And I did. I got mostly A’s and B’s in his classes and he was a very hard teacher. Because I had found my identity in a Jesus who loved me, I was able to stand up to him in my heart. So when I looked at the picture of Mr. Gruff in the book one day, I was shocked. I thought, Mr. Gruff is Mr. Waggely. He even looks like Mr. Waggely. And as Mr. Gruff tells Tony in the book, “You are just a weed! You will never be anything more than a weed. You can’t be a beautiful flower. Just accept that you are a weed.” But you see, we are so much more; so very much more. Whether you are a lonely broken child, or a lonely broken adult, you are more….more than just a weed….you are fearfully and wonderfully made. You are the apple of God’s eye. You are a King’s kid. I received my copies of “Tony the Lonely Dandelion” this week! I was surprised yesterday to unexpectedly sell 12 copies. My thanks to everyone who continues to support me with their love and encouragement as I do this ministry. Please feel free to contact me if you are interested in obtaining a signed copy. It is also available and can be ordered at any bookstore or through Amazon. God Bless my dear friends. Always remember– you are so much more, and that God loves you, and He has a special plan for your life. ❤️?

“A Night to Remember”……

published 12/24/2020 

A small child looked up into his father’s eyes. He said not a word as he continued to peer deeply into his eyes. It seemed to the boy that surely all of the secrets of the world lay somewhere hidden in the depths of his father’s soul. The child lovingly reached up and gently touched his father’s face. The father smiled, his eyes steadily fixed on his son. But then he saw the boy’s expression change as it grew much more serious. His tiny brow furrowed with concern as if in deep thought. He slowly took his son’s hands into his own and held them lovingly and waited for his son to speak. “Daddy,” the boy began slowly, “What is Christmas?” The father began to speak, but stopped to pause. He continued to look into his young son’s eyes, full of wonder and thought. He wanted to tell him about how every question of our heart was answered on that first Christmas. He wanted to tell him of the hope that the Savior’s birth gave us, of the doubts and fears of young parents who knew not what to do or where to go, about shepherds who saw angels, and wise men led by a star. But he knew that his son had heard the story of Christmas and that he was asking him of something more, something much deeper. The father smiled down at his small son and began to speak softly, “Christmas is a night to remember.” The boy looked in earnest as his dad continued… “Christmas is hope when your night turns to day. Christmas is light that will show you the way. Christmas is peace when your heart fills with fear. Christmas is truth to know that He’s near. Christmas is strength when we feel we shall fall Christmas is grace who hears when we call. Christmas is courage when doubt rushes in Christmas is mercy that saves us from sin. Christmas is all, of these things above. Christmas is joy in knowing His love.” The little boy sat quietly and took in the words of his father that he so loved and trusted. He looked up, deep into his eyes once again, and then softly said, “It’s a night to remember, daddy, isn’t it?” The father put his arm around his little boy and gave him a hug. “Yes, son, it is a night to remember.”

copyright marsha barth 2020

“Tony the Lonely Dandelion”…….

published 12/9/2020

SOON TO BE RELEASED…..Excited that “Tony the Lonely Dandelion” is now being published…. Soon to be released. My thanks to Shannon Peduto, M.Ed., Executive Director of The Luzerne County Child Advocacy Center for a wonderful endorsement and my wonderful Publishers-Bob and Cleone Reed, “Robert D Reed Publishers”, for always believing in me!

copyright marsha barth 2020

The Flowers Are Still Blooming……..

published 11/20/2020

It’s a funny thing how life can spin us at times. There is only so much that our minds can focus on at one time. Not long ago, I was walking out of the hospital from visiting my mom, and there beside me as I walked was a row of beautiful white blooming begonias. I thought, Wow!, the flowers are still blooming, though every morning felt like fall. The trees were then just starting to change their colors, loosing their deep green hues and turning to the light faded green with hints of orange color starting to blush the scenery. My mind had not been focused on the ushering in of fall, or even saying goodbye to summer. Seasons of our life are continually changing. There is an uncertainty in the changes of the seasons of our lives; especially, this year, with all of its underlying problems. But so often it isn’t the season that we are in that is important. What matters is that the flowers are still blooming. And even when they cease to bloom, and the cold chills us to the bone, we must remember—that they will bloom again. Amidst our lives that spin so fast, past the problems that overwhelm us, to the joys that flowers still bloom in our midst; there is a peace that truly does pass understanding as we walk with a God, who hears our cry, knows our heart, and always causes the flowers to bloom again. Be blessed dear friends and have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

copyright marsha barth2020

Sinking Sand……….

published 11/5/2020

We are in perilous times. The danger is not that we are in these perilous times, but that we don’t realize that we are in them. There is an old song that I love to sing, “My hope is built in nothing less than Jesus love and righteousness. I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus name. On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand. All other ground is sinking sand.” America, whether we realize it or not, “is setting in the balance and found wanting”– Daniel 5:27. In times past, when kings would rise up and tear town the groves where man served himself and his false gods; where they killed their own children in sacrifice; then with these torn down, their country would prosper, and God would be their God. But when the kings would rise up and rebuild their groves of idols and self, their country would fall once again. So often we can’t see past the injustices that are before us, and it robs us of our hope when righteousness fails to reign. But righteousness must reign in the heart, not in man’s devices and standards. Maybe that is what we have truly lost sight of. We seem to think that our country can be fixed by man and this is what has lead us to where we are today. We want everything to be fixed, without us tearing down the evil that has come to overtake our country and our lives. Yes, we need leaders that can lead us by proclaiming that we are still one nation under God, not gods; that we cannot allow our children to be killed for any reason. The ways of man are just not enough and we must not lose sight of the true hope amidst the chaos and turmoil of today. Maybe that is where we are truly lost; that we must not look to any man to fulfill our destiny but to the God of our salvation who created our destiny. Our destiny is too great to be defiled or destroyed by man, but it can be defiled and destroyed if we lose sight of the One that is our hope. My hope is built on nothing less…..than Jesus blood and righteousness….I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus name. On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand…All other ground…is sinking sand. “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” 2 Chronicles 7:14. There is no other way.

copyright marsha barth 2020

Slaying the Dragons…..

published 11/1/2020

Slaying the Dragons……

My husband has often expressed to me that “He could lock me in a closet and that trouble would still find me.” He asked me one time, “Has it always been like that or only since you married me?” I had to laugh because I had actually thought about that. I told him, truthfully even from birth, it has always been that way. Like unknown to me at birth, I was born with two separate blood types; a separate A blood type and also a separate AB blood type. They call it a chimera factor; very rare blood but fortunately very healthy blood. ? It seem all of my life that I have “fought dragons” and that’s okay. Maybe that is why I get so passionate in standing up for what is right. I had a person say to me one time when I was in a particular battle. “Why are you doing this? You cannot personally gain anything from this and you have much more to lose than to ever win.” I answered, “Because it is right.” And then I asked them a question, “When does standing up for right depend on what we gain or lose?” Now more than ever as I see the election approach, my heart is very troubled. Not about the battle of who thinks that they are right. But about the battle of what is right. What is right according to God’s word, not society’s standards? We have grown cold as a society, aloof, biblical speaking-”Lukewarm”. This is the most dangerous place that our “America” has ever been. We are at the threshold, a crossroad of where our nation will either go right or left. Isn’t it strange that the two parties are even called-right and left. We must not vote personality but principle. I have not received any fliers from the one party even listing his stand on abortion. Why is the issue of 60,000,000 babies dying not an issue important enough to make it to his flier? What about free speech? What about simply receiving unbiased reporting of the truth? What about our constitution, our liberties, our right to bear arms and so much more? What about one nation “under God”? Are we to lay all of these issues aside and become the Laodicea society that God has warned us against? “As for me and my house, I will serve the Lord.” It is time for us rise up and slay the dragons……

copyright marsha barth 2020

Mercy and Truth Walk Hand in Hand…..

published 10/31/2020

Many of you know that I do advocacy work. The stories of brokenness are too vast sometimes to even imagine. “It is in mercy and truth that iniquity is purged.” We must be able to have mercy to those who are suffering, regardless of the reasons or their choices that may have gotten them there. At the same time we must be able to present truth. Neither mercy or truth can be compromised. My husband heard the other day a person state that they are against abortion but will vote for the candidate who supports abortion because of the “other issues”. What issue can supersede the value of 60,000,000 babies that have died due to that type of reasoning? I am reminded of the Israelites in the Bible who kept enough of God to pacify their conscious and then sneaked away to the hidden groves to worship and sacrifice for their “other issues”, their other gods. When there was a king that would tear down these hidden groves of men’s hearts, the nation of Israel would flourish, only to have it fall again when another king would allow the groves to be rebuilt. “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” But we think we are above this today. “There are other issues to consider,” we say. We feel that we can modernize God’s word and that surely God will just have to understand. One of the things that upset God the most during that time was the non-chalet sacrificing and killing of their children by the people as they justified their actions as necessary; actions that appeased their desires, their goals, their other issues. Surely they thought, God would just have to understand. We have fallen asleep and with our lackadaisical mentality accepted that everything today is okay. We have become the church of Laodicea– “I know thy works, that you are neither cold nor hot: I would you were cold or hot. So then because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of my mouth.”(Rev. 3:15-16). “How shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?” (Heb. 2:3-4) Mercy and truth were given to us to deliver us out of our sin, not to justify and comfort us in our sin. “It is in mercy and truth that iniquity is purged.”(Proverbs 16:6) (2 Chronicles 7:14).

copyright marsha barth 2020

What Would You Do???

published 10/26/2020

God’s Blessings

If today you heard of a family that was very dysfunctional; the mother had lost her first child in her first marriage shortly after birth. She remarried into a second marriage. Her husband was an alcoholic and was known to be physically abusive to the children. Only three of the seven children that they had ever lived to adulthood. Their first child a boy died 6 days after birth. Another child a girl died before she was a year old. Another a boy died at the age of 2 years old and another little girl died at 1 year old. One that did live to adulthood died of tuberculosis. The mother died young of tuberculosis also. The father was suspected of having syphilis and was thought to have passed it congenitally down to his many children. The question is often asked—should this family, somewhere along the line, considered aborting the pregnancies due to these many circumstances and complications??? The answer that has surprised so many is that had this been done—then our remarkable Beethoven would have been murdered. Let me expound and comfort any person that has ever had an abortion. I had a dear friend who had a horrible time every year at the anniversary of the death of her aborted child. This is not an article of condemnation but an article to encourage all of us to take a stand, take action, and remember the 60,000,000 children that have been killed since abortion was legalized. Did you know that abortion would be the number one cause of death in the United States every year, if counted? In 2017 there were more abortions (862,300) than deaths due to heart disease at (647,457) and more than those who died with cancer (647,457). There are more abortions performed every year in America (862,300) than combat deaths in all of our wars put together from 1775-2019 (656,482). If we observe a 15-second moment of silence for each child killed by abortion, it would take us 28 years. So, I have to ask you—what would you do????? But you say, I do not support abortion….but will you vote for someone, anyone, who stands by the law to abort children? Why? Because you like their personality better?? Because, you believe they will help the economy better?? Because…… Why??? What could be a reason that could supersede the taking of a life of a child??? I can’t help wonder about what those 60,000,000 children would have become. Would one had found the cure for cancer, or have been another Billy Graham, an Einstein, or a Beethoven?? “For there is now no condemnation in Christ Jesus…..Suffer the little children to come unto me…” I am attaching the baby pictures of my children and grandchildren in honor of life…..Please feel free to share this and attach pictures of your children in remembrance and support of life. Again, I ask, what will you do???????

A Bouquet of Flowers………

published 10/10/2020

Tony the Lonely Dandelion -to be published soon….

Today I had the privilege of watching my grandsons play sports. We went from soccer game to soccer game and then went to baseball. I so enjoyed watching all of them play. Many of you know that I have nine grandchildren—eight boys and 1 girl. So as the older ones played their sports, I got to enjoy the younger ones also. Savannah, came to me at one point and handed me what she thought was the most beautiful flower she could find and said, “MeMaw, plant it when you get home.” I smiled and told her that it was just beautiful. Her brother Matthew said, “It is the wish flower. You blow it and make a wish and it comes true. Make a wish, MeMaw.” They went to find more but it is very hard to find a “blooming dandelion” in the fall. I had to smile in my heart, for many years ago, my son and my daughter had also thought that the most beautiful flower to give their mommy was a “dandelion”. It was then that I first wrote, “Tony the Lonely Dandelion”, which will be published soon. I am convinced that every small child sees the beauty of the dandelion. I am also convinced that they see the beauty of the world way beyond what we see. They don’t base the value of what they see on what they hear from others. They do not know that a dandelion is a weed, because the beauty that they see determines its value. So often, that is what happens to all of us. We hear we are just a weed, we could never be a beautiful flower, we could never be of value. Many, all of their life, have heard and been told what they can’t do, and many were told that they would never be anything. They are told they are just a weed, and that they can never be a lovely daisy, a beautiful tulip, or a lovely rhododendron. They grow up being bullied and feeling so often that they really are a weed, and that they truly do not matter. You are so much more than what people have told you that you are. Through the eyes of a child, truth is so often revealed—“Here MeMaw, take it home and plant it.” Yea, MeMaw, blow it and make a wish and it will come true.” And Jesus said, “Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18:3

copyright marsha barth 2020

Wonder If…..

published 9/11/2020
Truth-Excuses-Action Conference

Wonder if…..Come join us for this great conference…..Tomorrow from 9-12 or Live Streaming on Facebook: Wonder if tomorrow we would wake up and things would be back to normal? Wonder if we’d just fall back into the old routines?? Wonder if we could have back just one yesterday?….With a loved one passed, to retract one angry word, to forgive another? Wonder if we could begin to put our past behind us and to go truly forward??? We can!!! Join us for this time of refreshing; a time to gain ground, a time to go forward……….

copyright marsha barth 2020

We Walk by Faith not By Feelings……

Published 9/11/2020

All Welcome—Come join us in this free on-line conference…Sept. 12, 9:00a.m-12:00p.m…
One of my dearest friends who was like a sister to me passed away last year. We knew each other from about the time we were 6 years old. My “Pammy” was one of the dearest people that I have ever known.She was a wonderful Christian. We laughed together, cried together and shared infinite wisdom. We knew each other so well that we could share everything and anything. We often shared the good and bad of our childhood. One day as we were sharing, I very kindly spoke to her about the issue of anger. Anger, that nasty word that none of us want to be associated with, or have any acclaim to. But the truth about anger is that when we are hurt or feel pain, the first emotion that will usually rise to the surface is anger. But as Christians, we declare vehemently that we do not have anger. That day as I mentioned the issue of anger and the danger of it, Pam had a ready answer for me. She said, “I don’t have anger, Marty! It’s righteous indignation.” I took a deep breath and then said, “No, Pammy. It is anger, not righteous indignation.” We would often laugh and talk about that story and laugh at the truth of it all. We are living in a time that is calling us all to go forward-to lay aside the weight and sin that so easily besets us-to come together with one mind, one accord, and a unity of spirit. We must know Truth, do away with Excuses, and take Action.This conference will be great time of fellowship and word. I ask you to come to TEA (Truth-Excuses-Action) and join us in this conference. We are more than conquerors! We are Victors! Join us on Zoom: or Live Streaming on Facebook:

copyright marsha barth 2020

We’re Connected……..

published 9/3/2020

The other week I was blessed to get to spend some time with all of my grandchildren. There is nothing more precious to me than being a part of their lives. To watch these dear children grow into these wonderful people, brings me a joy that only a grandparent can know. They say the most profound things in their childlike manner and so often I pause to consider who really is learning from whom. Many of you know that I now have nine grandchildren with one more due to join us in January. There are currently eight boys and one girl. Each one of their personalities radiate a different gift and I marvel at what they already have brought to this world and ponder the impact that they will have on it as they continue to grow. Throughout my last visit with some of them, my granddaughter, my only girl, would often ask me to sit with her. “Sit here, Memaw,” she’d say and pat the chair. She is three years old. “So we can be connected,” she continued. I thought to myself, what a lovely thought, and where did she come up with that. And then later, when we’d all be doing something together, she’d say again, “Come here, Memaw,” and then she’d add, “so we can be connected.” Throughout my visit, I’d hear many times, her sweet smurf-like little voice say, as a big smile spread across her face, “so we can be connected, MeMaw.” “Yes, sweetheart, how important it is for us, ‘to be connected’.” In these hard times that we are all going through this year, we have all had to face things that we have never had to face; as a nation, as a society, and as Christians. We are in a season, that now, more than ever, we must stand as a nation, as a society, and as Christians, for what we believe in. Never in our history, have we been called to stand, as we are being called to at this time. “For such a time as this,” was what Mordecai said to Esther, when she was called to take a stand for her God and her people. Will we do the same? Will we stand up for what is right, even if it is not popular? Will we take action on the faith that we proclaim we have, even if we gain nothing? Even if we lose everything? Even if it is not politically correct? “O death, where is your sting? O grave, where is your victory? For the sting of death is sin and the strength of sin is (man’s way). But thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” It is time for us to come together as one nation under God, to proclaim the victory that generations of lives have fought to give us. And as my dear sweet granddaughter innocently proclaimed, “It is time for us ‘to be connected’”. God Bless~~

copyright marsha barth 2020

Precious Memories…

published 8/14/20

I pull in my driveway, and see the small bike sitting in the yard. So many memories come rushing back. There it sets—the banana seat decorated in flowers, the pink and white frame with the pink handle grips. It is as if I have been transported back thirty years, and at any moment my little girl and boy will come running out of the house to greet me. Such are the precious memories of our past. I had been cleaning the garage and had taken the bike out in the process. Life is precious. Family is precious. Time is precious. The joys of our todays, are what makes the memories of our past so special. So what about today???What can we do to make a special memory today? A kind smile to the checkout cashier instead of an off the cuff, “have a good one”? A warm thank you to a friend? An extra hug to our children, even when they spill the milk? They are always easier to hug when they are adorable. A forgiving word to someone who really let you have it, or let you down? A card to someone who is having a hard time??? A phone call or even a message to someone you haven’t contacted for a while??? What can we do today that will affect tomorrow??? I have so much to learn. I often wonder if it will take me until I am 99 for God to perfect these things in my heart and life. By then, everyone will say, “Look at that cute little grandma, but she doesn’t have a clue.” And I will say, “Are you kidding? It took me 99 years to get it.” “Let us lay aside the weight and sin that so easily besets us….” “Be you kind one to another”. Life is too precious for anything else. God Bless~~
copyright marsha barth 2020

Amazing Grace….

published 8/14/20

There is such healing and hope in music. It is with great joy that I share Mike’s new album. Click below to listen to this heavenly music. Contact here to purchase physical CD’s. God Bless……
Click this link:
Many of you have awaited my next album. I am happy to say that after two years of much soul searching that it is now completed and has just been released on all streaming music platforms. Please Click Below…..
“Amazing Grace….the new journey” is an album that captures the heart of our precious hymns with the blended echoes of heaven.
Many were the tears of the songwriters of our precious hymns of
yesteryear. Knowing the stories behind these sacred songs can give us
a better understanding of the offering of “sacrifice of praise”: from
Fanny Cosby’s, “Blessed Assurance”, who blind, wrote over 8,000
gospel songs, to Joseph Scriven’s, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus”,
who lost his fiance the night before his wedding, and John Newton,
who pinned, “Amazing Grace”, his song of redemption from enslaving
others cruelly, became his heartfelt cry of deliverance for all; and so
many more songs of triumph.
“David’s Song”, is played in pentatonic scale, having only five notes
per octave. We can imagine David, with his many trials of faith,
resting perhaps by his favorite sanctuary, the trickling of a stream, his
fingers gently strumming the strings of his harp. As he plays, his eyes
closed, he cannot hear the sounds of heaven that are echoing back in
harmony with him.
May the brush of angels’ wings touch, and inspire you with this
compilation of old-time favorite hymns, reorchestrated with perhaps
some of the sounds of heaven.
copyright marsha barth 2020


The Raven and the Cross…..

published 7/17/2020

The other day, Mike and I stopped by our church. As I was waiting for Mike, I heard this horrible squawking noise. It wasn’t a loud noise, but just this very irritable scratchy caw. It started low and then rose in pitch. Unlike, the songs of birds that I love to hear, this was a very annoying sound that caught my attention. It reminded me of fingernails on a chalk board. I glanced around and didn’t see anything and then I heard it again, fussing louder this time. I looked up to where I heard the noise. And there he sat, all by himself, as if in total control of the situation. I stood looking up at him. This ugly noisy creature just sitting there, surrounded by the most brilliant blue sky as a beautiful backdrop. What really caught my attention was, not even how ragged he looked, or how screechy he sounded, but where he was sitting. This ghastly shrieking raven was sitting on top of the beautiful cross on our steeple. It was eerie to see something so minacious looking sitting on something so precious as the cross. I stood watching him, and he, me. He neither cared or felt threatened by my presence. Even when I moved around, he seemed to sit arrogantly, unmovable. I couldn’t help think of how representative he was of the turmoil that has turned our world upside down. Evil has come to sit upon the cross. Boldly, he declares his intentions, as if he feels that he has wrought some great victory. As if he has overcome the cross and put it beneath him. It was a chilling sight actually, and it unnerved me. But then a wonderful thing happened. Mike quietly got out of the truck and joined me. There was something about the presence of two of us standing there. The raven eyed us up, and then as with great fear and trepidation, he flew away, taking with him all the arrogance and evil that he represented. There is power in the righteous coming together. Where two or more are gathered, God is in our midst. Now, in the midst of this great turmoil of our country, we must come together as one. We must stand in the face of evil and proclaim a unity like never before. We must not let evil divide us. And more than ever we must not let the ravens of darkness sit on the cross of our heart. This precious precious cross that represents more than a piece of jewelry that we wear around our neck. This emblem represents the Jesus that died, so that we could rise again, empowered by His spirit, to overcome evil, and to chase away the ravens of darkness that dare to sit on the cross of our heart.
“Hatred stirs up strifes: BUT love covers all sins. Proverbs 10:12
copyright marsha barth 2020


Let’s Not Forget Normal~~~

published 6/27/20

“What a Wonderful World”, Louis Armstrong sang in 1967. A song that topped the charts during an era much like we have today. In 1967 we were bombarded daily with news of the Vietnam war; some of the worst riots that our country had ever seen; Israel had just fought and won the Six-Day War; and so much upheaval in our country had turned our world upside down. And then, here came “Louie” and helped us find normal. “I see trees of green, red roses too, I see them bloom for me and you. I see friends—saying, how do you do, they’re really saying I love you.” I went out on the patio today to have a cup of coffee. A little butterfly joined me. I sat watching him. He fanned himself gently, with his wings slowly going up and down. I sat there and marveled at the beauty etched in his wings. Beauty, that no artist could ever capture. I looked past him and saw small ants scurrying around on the patio, as if there would be no tomorrow. The larger ants ran past them, hurrying on to some great mission of importance that only they would ever know. I saw one large ant pick on a small ant. But the wiser of the two, ‘the small ant’, ran off ignoring the bully as if it hadn’t even phased him. I heard the birds singing and joining in a harmony that I never have heard sung by a choir. The smell of fresh cut grass filled the air mingled with the fragrance of the dynamic blooms of the flowers that surrounded me. There is still so much normal out there amidst the turmoil that we are all facing as a nation. Let us run this race together; with love, compassion, and hope. Let us not forget that we are our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers. Let us hold up high the banner of our God, Whom, this nation was built upon. Let us not compromise or shrink from the principles that so many have died for, that we might be free. Let us not forget the ONE who died for all of us, to set us free. And, together we will stand; we will hope; and not doubt, or fear these troubled times, but will embrace them to become a stronger people, a better nation, a kinder world. Let us not forget normal, for truly above all these things– “What a Wonderful World.” mlb

copyright marsha barth 2020

Amazing Grace…..

published 5/27/2020

It is Amazing Grace. God’s grace. Grace that gives us peace when we are troubled, hope when we are weary, strength when we are weak, and love when we are feeling alone. Mike’s new album “Amazing Grace”, will be released soon. Here is a song from it and a few words from Mike…..

Many of you have patiently awaited my next CD. “Amazing Grace….with David’s Song” is currently in manufacturing and will soon be released and available around the world on all music media applications. “Amazing Grace”, is an album containing many of our precious hymns of yesteryear. Each song has been painstakingly and prayerfully rewritten with up to 16 layers of instruments and voices to bless your soul and to carry you on a journey of peace. Many were the tears of our songwriters who wrote these songs of old. From Fanny Cosby’s, “Blessed Assurance”, who blind, wrote over 8,000 gospel songs, to Joseph Scriven’s, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus”, who lost his fiance the night before his wedding, and John Newton, who pinned, “Amazing Grace”, his song of redemption from enslaving others cruelly, became his heartfelt cry of deliverance for all; and so many more songs of triumph. “David’s Song”, is played in pentatonic scale, as on his harp, which had only five notes per octave.
My desire is that the brush of angels’ wings touch, and inspire you with this compilation of old-time favorite hymns, reorchestrated with perhaps some of the sounds of heaven. Attached is my song…”What a Friend We Have in Jesus”.  

All rights reserved. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited by law. Copyright 2020


published 5/10/20
We all called her Mom….
      At 19, when I was born, my mom had already experienced more of life than most people who were twice her age. She had known the sorrow of losing siblings, experienced the divorce of her parents, barely knowing her father, and lived through a great depression, knowing the reality of poverty.
   They lived on ration coupons. Their ration coupons for clothes were issued from a men’s clothing store. It fell their lot if they were to have shoes or coats, they had to be boys. It was at this time that there was an outbreak of lice and the only cure then was to shave the head completely. On Saturdays, my mom and her sisters were given a quarter to go to the movies, while gramma worked to support them. I remember Mom telling me of her dilemma of going to the restroom and standing there trying to decide to go either in the girls restroom looking like a boy with her bald head and boys clothes, or to go in the boys bathroom being a girl. She chose the later.
   When she was 16, she was married and had my eldest brother; at 17, my second brother; by 18, my third brother; and at 19 she had me. Married with four children, we lived in a little “three-room” house. It had a kitchen, a living room and a bedroom with one small closet that only one of us could hide in at a time. We carried our water and we walked up the hill to use the bathroom which was outside. These were some of the happiest times that I remember.
     Mom was not raised in a Christian home or with a religious foundation. Her Mom was Brethren, her Dad, Jehovah Witness and somewhere in between it all, the children were raised Catholic. But Mom knew something of the Love of God. When I had a headache or earache she would pray for me. When I was afraid at night, she taught me to talk to Jesus. Someone sent me little Bible Stories in the mail when I was young. You had to read the story and to answer the questions. and mail them back. My Mom would help me answer these, neither of us knowing the answer, looking up the meaning.
     As my Dad’s drinking continued; I watched sin destroy our family, and I watched as my Mom struggled through all the hurt and pain to keep us kids from being completely swallowed up in it. She pressed 24 dozen blouses a day in a steaming factory to provide for us, while a community judged and condemned her for not being there with us.
It was my Mom, who knew how much a box of hundred Crayola crayons meant to me. It was Mom who nurtured me through my shut-downs, patiently drawing me back out to a fresh hope. It was my Mom who taught me to look on compassion to those without, to reach out to the brokenhearted, to care for the hurting. It was Mom who taught me that my words could be too sharp at times, that trust is best placed in the hands of the right people, and that Jesus would always love me unconditionally. It was her faith in a God, that she said she didn’t know a lot about, that taught me to lean on Him and cast my every care. My mom was not perfect, and she was not religious in the sense we know it, but she knew something of the simple and pure Love of God.
     When I look at my Mom’s life, I see mostly hurt and pain. But I have never seen her bitter. She was never bitter at her childhood. She could take the saddest memory and weave it into a story of overcoming. She took the pain of her failed marriages, never blaming anyone, never retaliating back, never holding a grudge. She forgave in ways that I’m still learning.
   My Mom played games with us, shared with us, worked hard for us, stood by us and believed in us. She shadowed us with her love and I will be forever grateful to God for giving me my Mom who has impacted my life so greatly.
Copyright 2000—Marty Marsha Marty Barth


We Have a Voice……

published 4/22/20

I was asked by CVAP (Crime Victims’ Alliance of PA) to do this video for National Crime Victims’ Week.

APRIL is such a beautiful month to welcome in a new season after a long hard winter. And what a wonderful month to welcome in a new season for so many, after their life season of a long hard winter. April is National Child Abuse Prevention Month, it is also National Sexual Assault Awareness Month, and National Victims’ Rights Week–this week from April 19-25. Join us in this celebration of overcoming, for now we have a voice! God Bless~~

Stand Strong and Be Encouraged….

published 4/22/20

Not long ago, I was going through some of my old school papers and keepsakes. I was a little surprised at a memory that crept back on me. On the margins of a lot of my school papers was a little insignia that I had created. It popped up in the margins of my notes, scribblings, and many other keepsakes. I couldn’t help think of what this meant to me at that time. It would have seemed incidental to most people, and probably would have been overlooked by many if they saw it. But for me, it was different. It meant pure survival. I remember sitting there and looking at it. I fingered the papers and looked at the unsteadiness of my handwriting that was so different from today’s. Immediately, I knew exactly why I had written it on all of my papers. I also remembered very vividly where I was at emotionally at that time in my life. The little valley where I was raised, would never had known the turmoil that ate at my spirit like a cancer of my soul. But those words were more than words that I wrote on my papers. They were words that God had written on my heart. Words from Him, that were etched in the depth of my very being and gave me a hope when all had been shattered. The words were~~ “Peace Within”, encircled in a heart. But they were more than words for me. They were an experience that had lifted my heart out of great darkness and into a new Hope. I still live that Hope today.Faith Fellowship’s Women’s Ministry will be holding a special free Webinar on Saturday 9:00-12:00. Speaking will be myself, “Theresa Johnson”, “Toni Stewart”, and “Tamara Bopp”. I will be speaking on “Treasures of the Darkness” We truly invite any and all of you to join us. For many years many of our friends and family have expressed that they wish that they could attend one of our conferences. Now, all can join us. And it is free. It is as easy to do as posting a picture. Just click on this link on Saturday-starting at 9:00 and going through 12:00 and join us.

Or by Telephone:
1-646-876-9923 or 1-312-626-6799
Webinar ID: 940 5202 5249—

RSVP on this event or to get all the update

copyright marsha barth 2020

Lest We Forget…...

published 4/11/20

I hear a lawnmower in the distance and the children playing outside next door. The sun shines brightly and the birds are happier than I have ever heard them. Such wonderful reminders of the beauty of life and the beauty of this season. I have always loved Easter. When we were little, I would dress up in my new dress, new lacy white socks, and shiny black shoes. My brothers would wear their white shirts and bow ties. I even often wore little frilly bonnets and sometimes white gloves. There was dinner at Gramma’s house with all the aunts, uncles, and cousins; and always the Easter egg hunt later–with real eggs. The prize was the egg.  And yet, I often found myself sad on Easter when I thought of Jesus dying on the cross. It wasn’t like Christmas, when there was great jubilation at his birth. As a child, I could never understand the joy of Easter with the sorrow of his death. It wasn’t until He came into my heart that I understood. The joy was not in His death, but in His life! It took a longer time for me to truly realize, and even believe, that He would’ve died for me alone. If there were no others, He would have done it just for me. So now, I like to remind myself of what He really gave me. I want it to be written in my heart, not just in my mind. I watched the “Passion of Christ” today. I couldn’t help crying through it once again–Not because of the sorrow that He bore, but because He bore that great sorrow for me. This is the joy of that sorrow, that He loves us. That He was wounded for my transgressions, bruised for my iniquities, died, went to hell to take back the keys to death and hell, and then rose again in Victory! If we look at only the sorrow in life, we will dismay. If we don’t look at the sorrow at all, we will forget. As He died and rose again, so can we as a people, as a nation. May this great God of love, cover you in these storms of life, give you comfort when you are weary, strength when you are weak, joy in your sorrow, and Victory over death! Happy Easter dear friends……

copyright marsha barth 2020

Saturday, April 25, 2020 at 9 AM – 12 PM…

published 4/9/2020

Tired of not being able to get out? Faith Fellowship Ladies Ministry is sponsoring a FREE Webinar for all who want to join us. All welcome. Guest Speakers are Theresa Johnson, Marsha (Marty)Barth, Tamara Bopp, and Toni Stewart.

Join us for an exciting time of encouragement in the Word. You will be able to join us on Zoom from the comfort of your own home! Never used Zoom before? Don’t worry. It’s very simple, and we will provide a link and instructions. All you need is an internet connection and computer or mobile device. More information to follow. RSVP on this event to get all the update

Monsters Don’t Always Wear Masks

published 4/7/2020

The birds sing. The flowers bloom. And the sun shines. All bring a hope to our hearts, in a season that has brought us all sorrow. They stand as a witness, that life is precious. Life is hard. And life is good. On this journey of life, there is beauty to enjoy, hardships to overcome, and love to share. It is so important that we know how to do all three. I wanted to write today on “life is hard”. I like the old show “Leave It to Beaver”. I watch the reruns.  Today the dad was explaining to Beaver that the woman in the house down the road wasn’t a witch; that surely he could see this by how cleaned up she was when she visited them. “After all, did she look like a witch?” And Beaver told his dad, “Sure, dad. But maybe she just looks that way for adults.” I don’t think of abuse, all the time. Actually, I no more enjoy thinking of it than you do. When God heals you, and brings you out of any pain and sorrow, you are set free. You have no desire to revisit it. But sometimes you go back into the fire to rescue those that are still in the burning house. When Beaver told his dad that, my mind without any forethought, kicked right into gear. You see, in these times that we are living, especially now with our schedules tossed everywhere, and scurrying to find care for our children, we must be mindful that though witches probably do not live a few doors down from us, there may be a few monsters in our midst that don’t always wear masks. Listen to your children. Watch your child’s body language. And never assume that anyone is safe just because—they are a “neighbor”, “a friend”, a “relative”, “a Sunday school teacher,” “a coach”, “a youth leader”, a “babysitter”, a “teenager”, i.e. 1 in 4 girls, 1 in 6 boys are molested by age 18. This is based on only 40% ever being reported, 60% are never reported. And in children, it is estimated that only 10% are ever reported, leaving 90% unreported. One-third of child predators today are children themselves, under age 18. But we say, “not my child.” “I’m careful.” “And besides, my child would tell me.” In most cases, they will not. Not because they don’t love or trust you enough. But because they love and trust you too much. 93% of all children abused know their attacker. So in warning children of the dangers of strangers, we have protected them from 7% . I, like you, do not make this topic my morning read. But if it will help just one child, I will speak up. Watch and listen deeply to your child. Watch their body language. If they don’t want to hug someone, don’t make them. Give them a chance to learn who they feel safe with and who they can trust. Watch if they continually want to stay away from a place or a person. Remember, they may not even know themselves why they feel the way they do, but allow them to learn how they feel and allow them to learn who they feel they can trust. Talk to them on their level. And please remember, “monsters do not always wear masks.” Life is precious. Life is hard. Life is good. And roses will bloom again. God bless you my friends…..

copyright Marsha Barth 2020

Love Is A Gift For Every Day….

published 4/2/20

I have been blessed with a wonderful husband. He not only loves me, he is also a great cook. He just got done working an eight day stretch on his essential job. The first thing that he did this morning was make us breakfast. I woke up to smelling fried onions and potatoes. He makes everything from scratch. It is not our anniversary. It is not my birthday. It is no “special” day per say~~but it is “our” day. Love is a gift for every day. Mike and I have shared almost 48 years together. Through thick and thin, ups and downs, valleys and mountaintops, Mike and I have learned that God’s love has always knitted our hearts together and got us through all of these things. Love cannot be what we think it is; what we think others should do for us; or what we think we should do for them. Love is from God. Love is God. We’ve lost that simple reality in a world that has tried to define love by their own standards—-which by the way–aren’t that great. Now is a time to know the Love of God. Now is a time to come to the Love of God. Now is a time to experience the Love of God. Now is a time to share the Love of God. Be blessed my dear friends. ❤️

copyright 2020 Marsha Barth


“I’m Sorry”………..

published 3/28/20

A few months ago, the family had visited Florida. This is a special time of year for all of us, as we get to be together for two weeks. I love the one-on-one time that we get to share. Out of the nine grandchildren, I have eight boys and one little girl. She is pure delight, and quite a spunky little thing. Actually, Savannah and her older brother Matthew are quite inseparable. He is only 18 months older than her. My son calls them “Bonnie and Clyde”. One night, as I was watching them, they got into a little tith. Savannah was really upset. I said, “Matthew, you need to tell Savannah you are sorry.” He really was sorry because he could see that he had crossed the line with his little sister. He very sincerely said, “I’m sawry, Sabannah.” But Savannah’s feelings were still very hurt, and she said right back, “I no forgive you Maphew. Not now, no ever!” I just watched the two of them. Both had managed to crush each others hearts a little. The amazing thing is, that “no ever” lasted about five minutes, before they were back playing and laughing again. I know children learn from us, but I love the way, that so often, we learn from them. I wonder if there is someone today that you love and that loves you, that you may just want to give them a call. Maybe you, or them, have both felt the same way, “I’ll never forgive you.” The beautiful thing about my “Bonnie and Clyde” is, that they love each other. And truly love does conquer all. Have a blessed day!

copyright Marsha Barth 2020

Interview live tonight, Thursday, March 5 at 7:00 EST.
When I visit the prisons, rehabs and other venues, I begin by telling them, “the reason I come is not just to share my story but to relate to your story.” I tell them that we all have a story. And though our stories may be different, they are the same in this, somewhere in our lives, HOPE was shattered. I also tell them, “You Matter”. Know always, that YOU do matter to God. “Behold, the LORD’s hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; Nor His ear heavy, that it cannot hear.” Isaiah 59:1 We are more than conquerors, we are VICTORS!

Whatever Happened to Mice, Dogs, Ducks, and Flying Nanas…

published 3/8/2020

This will be a different blog. One that I have held off on writing, but I feel it must be written. When did it become wrong to voice an opinion? When did society change, that if your opinion is different than theirs, you are a mean, judging and condemning person? So we remain quiet. On all issues. I have friends that sadly have committed adultery, done drugs, stolen from others, and some that are, or have been in alternate lifestyles. I also have friends that have chosen other paths, some I agree with, some I do not. They know where I stand on these issues, and I know their opinions also. I don’t mitigate from what I believe in, just because I care for them. And I don’t hesitate to speak up against the things that I believe are wrong. That is why it is easy for me to go into the prisons, rehabs, and other venues and speak to all people. And this does not make me judgmental, condemning, or a homophobic. You can still love and care for someone and not agree with them.
I do advocacy work, along with my speaking and writing. And I am appalled at what we are doing to our children. Children are impressionable. They receive and take everything in, as truth. They have no capacity to filter what is right and wrong, and usually accept as truth what is told to them by sources that they believe they can trust. So it is our responsibility as adults to teach them to love people despite the differences. BUT, it is also our responsibility to teach them what is wrong, and what is right. And teach them that they don’t have to give up what they believe is right, because they care for someone. Nor do we teach them that they have to go along with everyone, fit in, and have no opinion of their own. When did it become okay to infiltrate our children with only what society deems is appropriate, true and politically correct??? When did society become the parents of our children??? When did having a good friend of the same sex, boy or girl, become suggestive that either or both child may be gay or lesbian?? When did we as a society began to encourage children to experiment with their sexuality before they even understand what sexuality is?? Why have we encouraged children to dive into sexuality while they are still children??? Why can’t they just be children??? They will have enough questions as they enter puberty on their sexual identity, and their identity as a whole, but they will be old enough then to sort through what is presented to them.
I am again, talking about the Disney situation. Whatever happened to mice, dogs, ducks, and flying nanas? I personally think a little wholesome fantasy from Mickey Mouse, Pluto, Goofy, Donald Duck, Mary Poppins, and Cinderella were good for our children. But, Disney has to bring us into the occult, with Demons and rituals, (The Owl House). And now Disney wants to also incorporate gay and lesbianism into these shows and movies, (Disney’s new movie “Onward”); and upcoming Marvel Studios’ movie (“The Eternals”) will include a homosexual superhero and a same-sex kiss.

  Regardless of your feelings on these issues, I think we can all agree that it is wrong to indoctrinate our children and subtly or overtly weave it into the young impressionable minds of our children. Statistics show that in 2016–0.6% of U.S. adults identify as transgender, the overall percentage of people with disabilities in the U.S. in 2016 was 12.8%, and nearly 3% of children younger than 18 years are blind or visually impaired. So why wouldn’t Disney and our society want to present to our children, movies of overcoming disabilities, being blind, or other themes to their movies. Why would you pick a theme such as gay and lesbianism, and demons, which are not suitable for children; or on a personal level for me; not for adults either. Unless your motive is to indoctrinate them into acceptance of these things? And if it is okay, as some will say it is, then why are you weaving it subtly and overtly into your movies secretly? Why are you trying to indoctrinate our children into believing in demons, and that an alternate life style of .6% is the normal? Do we teach our children to love and to not condemn all people?? Yes. Do we teach them to accept things and indoctrinate them with themes that are wrong and out of their reach of understanding at that age?? No. Disney is either a children’s platform or it is a platform for Demons, Occult, Political Correctness, and Sexuality issues??? Which are you Disney??????

copyright Marsha Barth 2020


published 3/3/2020

Great Interview with host, Tamala Coleman, on “Amazing Grace” on Faith Broadcasting, to air live on Thursday, March 5, at 7:00 p.m. Tamala Coleman’s audience, reaches over 75,000 people. My sincere thanks to this great woman of God, and the mighty work she is doing.

copyright Marsha Barth 2020

A Song in the Night…. 

published 2/28/2020

Not long ago, I came home late one night. It was dark and very cold. One of those nights when you practically ran out of the car and into the house. As I gathered my things and hurriedly got out of the car, I suddenly stopped and paused. There was a melodic sound in the air. It was so very beautiful, gentle, soothing. Then, it went away. But suddenly, I heard it again; a little louder now, but still with that gentle and sublime sound. I stopped and listened. The wind blew past me, brushing my hair aside, and I could feel the chill of the air, but I wanted to just linger and listen. Another gust of wind whisked past me and the music became louder. I turned and looked, and there it was. The wind chimes at the garage, sang loudly for all to hear. Every time the wind blew, it was a different tune. As the chimes beat one against the other, each one sounded out a different note. It was so beautiful. It was as if angels had stirred the chimes and they were echoing heaven’s chorus. I gathered my things and continued to the front door. My heart smiled as I paused to look for my key; “A Song in the Night”. How often have we missed our song in the night in the hurry and scurry of things? We all have night seasons in our life– times of sorrow and hardship that we don’t understand. I see this most clearly when I go into the prisons like we did the other night. One of the girls had read my book and I had the chance to talk with her. We truly cannot begin to know the heart of another until we see the pain they have walked through. That is why going into the prisons doesn’t bother me. There is a difference in those who have chosen evil, and those who have just lost their way. Do all belong there? Yes. I have never justified or excused the reasons any of them are there. But the sincere ones know this already without being told. But surely we can bring them a “Song in the Night?” I am reminded of an old song we used to sing:
“Some through the waters, some through the flood
Some through the fire, but all through the blood
Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song
In the night season and all the day long.”

copyright Marsha Barth 2020

No Humpty-Dumpty……

published 2/13/2020

I was busy in the kitchen the other day. Have you ever had one of those moments when you feel like you’re moving in slow motion? The glass lid slid right off the counter. Going into my tomboy mode, I instantly went to catch it. And amazingly, I caught it, kind of, with my legs and slowed it down. I thought for sure I had broken its fall. But when it hit the floor it exploded into pieces.

I don’t think that I’ve ever broken something this bad. It was in hundreds of pieces with shards of glass everywhere. I stood looking at it, and realized, that it had not broken, but it was shattered. I think of this often, because “broken” we can fix—duct tape, crazy glue. But “shattered” we cannot fix. There are things in our life that have been broken and they can be fixed. But the things in our life that have been shattered, leave us standing hopelessly at a loss. It is then that we realize that God is not a Humpty-Dumpty God. He is not a God that just glues us back together again and leaves us with all the cracks to show. No, we have a God who loves us and cares about every shattered part of our lives. And if we will come to Him, He will heal our shattered hearts, lives, hopes, dreams, relationships, finances, hurts and pain. He is not a Humpty-Dumpty God, but a God that makes us a new creature in Him. “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.”2 Corinthians 5:17 Will interview with Tamala Coleman on iHeartRadio Podcasts/ iHeartRadio on February 29, 2020.      

copyright Marsha Barth 2020

Awake Oh My Soul…...

published 1/11/2020

What do we do in a world that has lost its way??? In a world where good is called evil—Where right is called wrong—where integrity and strength are called weakness? Where will we find our direction? Where will we find our strength? Where will we find the principles to raise a new generation with the qualities of life that stand for truth and honor? Oh America, how have you fallen asleep and forgotten all that once you believed, cherished and fought for? Will you awake or roll over and choose to slumber just a little while longer? Will you arise and rest on man, or your own strength and wisdom, or will you see past the limitations of your own ways, and thoughts, and see the need that we ourselves cannot supply, not even in our finest hour? And as for hope and strength, from which well will you draw them from? How long, before we awake? How long before we see our need? How long before we humble ourselves and call out? How long before we unashamedly, and without religious pretension, speak of the One that is higher than us? Probably, not until we come to the true awareness of His reality. A reality that supersedes our thoughts, our reasonings, our plans and our ways. A reality that supersedes religion and our differences, and a reality that it is impossible for us to find our way without Him. Awake, oh my soul.

copyright Marsha Barth 2019

The Night before Christmas….

published 12/26/19

I lay in bed and hear the faint sounds of Silent Night filling the house. I stir, and my heart is reminded of the many Christmases that song has ushered in.
     I had a lot of time to think on my drive into WV to pick up my Mom to bring her back to celebrate Christmas with us. Mom is 85 years old. She still bowls, likes to Bingo, and can still double wringer horseshoes. She reminds me of all that is good in this world. Her love has been a great comfort to me throughout my life. But this trip is different than so many of the others. I am picking Mom up from the hospital.
     I drive unhurriedly, without rushing, knowing that she is coming home. I fidget with the car radio as the Christmas music that is playing fades out. And then there it is, a song that truly lights my heart,~~ “Take Me Home Country Roads”. I listen to the song and I sing along. Once again, those country roads are taking me back home. I pass a tractor trailer and read the post on the back of it, “His name is not the man UPSTAIRS,” it says, “His name is JESUS.” Again, my heart smiles, not only to know His name, but to know Him. This God who reached down and loved me. Who cares for everything that troubles me; who knows my every concern, my every doubt, my every fear.
     I turn over in bed as I hear “Christmas in Dixie” playing softly in the next room. My mom rests. She is my Christmas present this year. Tomorrow we will head back to PA to share Christmas with my dear family, all 14 of them—my children, my 9 grandchildren. I need no snow to make it feel like Christmas, or presents under the tree. My heart fills with all the many Christmases of the past.                                                                                                     
This wonderful season, where joy and sorrow come together as one. Where Hope was born, and Joy and Peace were birthed, so that we may know that truly whatever season of life that we are in, truly a Savior which is called Christ Our Lord was born today in the city of David, called Bethlehem. He is never too far away to those who will call on His precious name. For He is Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. He truly is more than the “man upstairs.” Merry Merry Christmas my dear friends. May the Love of Christmas carry and comfort you through every storm of life that you may be going through. “Marty”

A Hug from Heaven…..

published 12/14/2019

?❤️??I look down and begin to read the words before me. I touch the thin light pages with my fingers as I read. “In the second month on the fourteenth day…” It doesn’t seem to strike me with much meaning, more of a historical note. But also on this page is one of my little bookmarks. I pick it up and look at it. I hold it in my hand and study it, and my heart fills with emotion. The letters are drawn ever so precisely. They are neatly colored and centered on the card. The words are surrounded by peach flowers and green ivy. I marvel at the simplicity of the bookmark and remember my dear friend of 55 years who made it for me last year. It says, “You Look Like You Need A Hug….” and then a little arrow points to the back. I turn the card over and in her handwriting is written, “Just consider this a long distant hug from me.” Tears fill my eyes with the love that I feel for this friend and sister. They are happier tears than sad. They fill my heart with joy as I remember her in love. She had made this little bookmark for me, as she had made so many of them, for me and others. I never thought last year at this time, when I visited her for Christmas, that this year she would be gone, and I miss her. I miss her love, her smile, her unique laughter, and listening ear. But I rejoice, because her love is still with me. She still even knows when I need a hug. “Just consider this a long distant hug from me,” the words in her familiar handwriting say. A hug from heaven, she sent me today, and it made my heart smile and fill with joy, not sorrow. I look and read the scripture, “In the second month on the fourteenth day…” And then I realize, Pam died on February 14, “the second month on the fourteenth day…” Merry Christmas my dear friend. Thank you for your hug from heaven……. ?❤️??

copyright Marsha Barth 2019


Windows of the Soul……

published 12/2/2019

I had a long drive the other day asI drove up through the country roads that led to Shamokin, in Coal Township. It is amazing how black and white the scenery is at this time of year. There are no autumn colors of fall, no brilliant reds or gold. There are no purples and blues from the hydrangeas of summer or the lilacs of spring. Just cold and gray before you, unfolding with every turn of the road. The scenery kind of fitted in with the mood of the day, as I neared the Coal Township State Correctional Institute to speak on a “Crime Impact Class”. But as I walked through the corridors, and once again heard the familiar clank of the heavy iron doors, I realized that the vibrancy of life is not always seen in our surroundings, but in the windows of the soul, through the eyes of those we meet. We can easily miss this unless we intentionally look deep into the eyes of those who surround us. And we don’t have to be in a prison to do this. Have you looked lately into the eyes of those who surround you. Those that you love. Those that you work with. Those sitting alone in the mall. Those who have lost a loved one, or suffered a great loss in their lives. Those who are struggling with the complex or even the simple realities of life. What do you see??? Can you see the sorrow and loss, the struggle of the battle, the weariness of the soul, the despair and longing for hope in a world that seems to continue on without skipping a beat, oblivious to the heartache hidden behind the smile, but seen, if we look, in those windows of the soul? We are our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers. We can shine a light of Hope into those dark places. We can share a word of Love to those hiding behind the veil of life. I drove home that day with a smile in my heart. And though the night was falling, the setting of a beautiful sunset splashed across the horizon with a burst of color, its rays of brilliance lighting a path ahead. I then drove to the Lebanon County Prison and met my friend there, and we, together, went in to minister to the women there. Oh, to see hope arise in those windows of the soul and see a God touch their hearts with His love and promise. Now at this Thanksgiving time, let us pause to ponder and remember the joy as well as the sorrow, the blessings as well as the loss, the hope as well as the despair, “that we may abound in Hope.” Romans 15:13

copyright Marsha Barth 2019


published 11/12/19

So many ask me about my books, “The Shattering”, and “The Shattering II. This local event will be preceded by a short talk about the books, with a question and answer session to follow. ALL ARE WELCOME. For those who like stories of healing and inspiration, these are my true stories, written in novel form, of the promise of hope, the power of love, and the joy of overcoming. My sincere thanks to our former representative, Mauree Gingrich for her endorsement on “The Shattering II”. Looking forward to this event and seeing everyone there. “Hope is tangible and breathes life and passion into every human soul that dares to reach out, grab it, and believe.” Quote, Chapter 21,”The Shattering II”. “The impact made a death-curdling sound that echoed throughout the countryside. Metal crushed, glass splattered, and then there was complete silence. … The Chevy sat crushed like a tin can, its windshield had splattered where Ethel’s head had hit it before she was thrown from the car. … The rescuers began to carefully lift Emma from the car. The sounds of sirens seared loudly as the woman from the Pontiac was whisked away. “Please,” Emma cried out to the attendants. “Is she alive?” The rescuers did not answer but began to pull the sheet up over Ethel’s lifeless body…” excerpt from “The Shattering”.

Signs Along the Way…

published 11/10/2019

The other week, I visited the Lebanon County Correctional Center with our team. Often, when I go in to speak, I look into the eyes and heart of those that are listening. I sometimes can not help wondering what they looked like as a child. Where did the child go?? When did the child get lost??? I have found that one thing is certain, more than not, most feel that they do not matter. Many feel that they have never mattered. When a soul gets lost in the turmoil of life, they have no hope to light their way. I love to read road signs when I drive. I was surprised the other day, while driving down to my son’s house to see a sign that said, “You Matter”. I always tell those that I speak to that if they don’t remember anything I tell them that day, to remember that “You Matter”. I wanted to stop and look at that sign and see why it was posted there, but couldn’t. “You do matter!!!” Which reminds me of another sign I saw while driving. (I drive a lot)  It said, “God is Speaking. Are You Listening?” So, I share with you, as I share with others— “God is Speaking. Are You Listening?” Because if you are— “You Matter”. God Bless~~~ 

copyright Marsha Barth 2019

“The Look”…..

published 11/1/2019

This is my last post from Hawaii, on this trip. I love speaking at The Aloha House. It is a wonderful in-house recovery center. For the last 15 years, I have visited and spoken at many prisons, along with many rehab and recovery centers. Mike always drives me to these venues, and probably is my strongest supporter. He always asks me when I come out, “How did it go?” I have gotten in the habit of answering him with a big smile, and say, “I always get the look.” He gives me a big smile back, because he too, has seen “the look”. Mike is not able to go with me into the prisons, but he was allowed to go with me a few years ago into The Aloha House, and has went in with me every time since. The first time that Mike went in with me, he got to actually see “the look” and it kind of changes you forever. It is an amazing thing to witness. When, I go into a facility, any facility, there is a curiosity of the inmates, clients and residents as they see me enter, and rightly so. Many of them, have long ago, hid their hearts behind a hard wall of protection. “The look”, says, “You are all cleaned up, what can you possibly tell me?” And, I can honestly say that I have seen that look every single time that I visit, throughout the last 15 years, at every facility. But that is not the truly amazing part of the look. As, I began to share with them, and talk with them, God’s presence begins to move on those hard walls that are surrounding their hearts. One, by one, I get to watch God miraculously, begin to touch their hearts, and tear down those walls. As, God does the work, slowly, you begin to see the tears crease out of their eyes. The hardness begins to disappear, and then you see the real miracle—HOPE fills those eyes where there was once despair. It is like seeing a rainbow appear amidst a dark and stormy gale. And then, my heart smiles. Because you know, that once someone touches the “hem of God’s garment” and feels His love and reality, and realizes that they really do matter, that they are never going to be the same again. “Come unto me, all you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28

copyright Marsha Barth 2019

The Promise of Hope…….

published 10/27/2019

When I was a little girl, every Sunday morning, my three older brothers and I would walk up a winding dirt road that led to a little country church. Our small Cocker Spaniel would follow us, and once there, she would cuddle up and lay down at the little church door and wait for us to come back out again. It was here that I found a “Hope”; here that God touched my heart and beckoned me to Him. Things at that time were rough at home, and I had truly lost my childhood hope. But there was always a

continual nudging on my heart as God called and drew me to Him. Somewhere during this time, in the midst of Sunday School and Vacation Bible School, I was given a little cardboard bookmark. I liked it so much that I thumb tacked it to my wall. Every night before I would go bed, I would take this bookmark from my wall, climb up on my bed rail, balance myself my touching the ceiling, and hold this little bookmark up to my ceiling light. I would then turn out the light, hop down, and thumb tack it back into the wall, and climb into bed. I would lay there in the dark and look at it on the wall. At the top of it was a picture of Jesus. The bottom part had a little purple velvet shield and on this shield was a little white cross. When I held it up to the light, it would glow in the dark. I would lay there and look at that little cross glowing in the dark and it would fill me with “Hope”. It has been a true Hope. A Hope that has led me through many dark and lonely nights, weathered many storms, and has always restored my soul. “Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.” Romans 15:13 “Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast”. Heb. 6:19 . God has blessed me today with so many opportunities to share this Hope with others. Had a wonderful book signing at Barnes and Noble, in Kahului, Hawaii. Never have I been more welcomed, and received such hospitality at a book signing, than I was there. My sincere thanks to Cindy Mauricio and the staff of Barnes and Noble.

copyright Marsha Barth 2019

In the Belly of the Whale….

published 10/24/19

This was my third visit to the prison while in Hawaii. I have been going into the prisons for the last 15 years, from Florida to Virginia, Hawaii and Maryland and others. Some are men, some are women, some re-entrants, some county prisons, and even a maximum security all male facility. They are all different in many ways, but they are all similar in some ways also. You never forget the sounding of that iron door slamming behind you. It has to slam tight behind you before the next iron door is allowed to open. And so in many ways, this trip was not much different than the many others, and yet it was. I visited and spoke to a total of 13 different cell groups this time. I believe it was every cell block in that prison. There are different sections and levels in prison. I called this day, the belly of the whale. This was the more secured areas and thankfully, rightly so. And yet, regardless of the crime, no excusing of the accountability, there is still a great need to bring the Hope to the hopeless. Here I spoke to a small group of men who gathered to listen. Others still were behind iron doors, and pressed their ears to the doors to hear a word, any word. Oh, the desperation, of a lost and hurting soul. Others throughout the day would sit on their chairs and lean forward to hear, as the loud noise from the rest of the cell block was drowning out my words. And yet still, they leaned forward, to grab hold of any word. A word that could somehow bear some truth to their soul, that they do matter, and that they can change. Many have no desire to change. Many have chosen evil as a way of life. But there are some that hunger for a better way and they are willing to bear the accountability of what they have done, and to chose that better way. I think we must remember that Jesus went to the forlorn and those scorned by society, the Samaritan Woman, the taxpayers, Legion who was full of evil; not because they deserved it, but because Jesus was moved by compassion. I think we must remember that none of us deserve God’s love and mercy, and yet what a change in our life came when we were touched, just once, by the Master’s hand. “Hope is tangible and breathes life and passion into every human soul that dares to reach out, grab it, and believe.” Pg. 348-“The Shattering II” Jesus is that Hope.

copyright Marsha Barth 2019

A Diamond in the Rough….

published 10/24/19

One day on our trip, we looked out at the beach, and both Mike and I knew by the shoreline that it was a perfect day for looking for sea glass. Often after a storm, a full moon, or any other factor that causes the ocean to stir up its fury, it will cast stones, lava rock, shells, sand, coral, and anything within its grasp, to throw on the shore.This also includes sea glass. As I dodged the waves and focused on the shore, I began to find tidbits of little treasures amidst the massive debris of the stones and lava rock pieces. I’m not sure when it appeared, but I just grabbed at it quickly before the incoming wave could sweep it away back into the ocean. I tucked it away in my baggie and continued to search for more, not really realizing what I had found until later. Amidst the stones, it didn’t really stand out, it had no shine, and was doomed to be carried and tossed asunder in the ocean, lost forever. But there it was, this red piece of sea glass; opague, worn, rough, its beauty and purpose long washed away by many years of toil and turmoil. Or was it? Had the storms of almost 70 years, and being lost, somehow made it more beautiful than ever? Had it long ago, lost any and all purpose? It just needed to be found. Maybe it could no longer serve the purpose it was originally created for, and maybe it had lost its way long ago when it was broken by the hard tempests of life. But it was a new season now..This is the way I feel when I go into the prisons. Yes, there are many that have washed up on that shore. And sadly, yes, there may be many that wash back out to the sea of life and never find their way. But as God alone, who knows the deepest things of all our hearts, looks into the darkest of places, He sees that one lost and broken soul. He sees the one that will surrender to the shore, who wants to be found, who doesn’t want to be washed out to sea again, who wants to find a new purpose in life. Oh, they are hard to find. But the rarer they are, the more beautiful they are, even in the rough. All they need is for someone to reach out and grab them before another wave takes them back out to sea, to be lost forever. That’s what God does. I see Him do it every time that I go into prison, when He touches a heart with His love, and they begin to know His reality for the first time in their lives. “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” 2 Corinthians 5:17.

copyright Marsha Barth 2019

Hope Lives~~~

published 10/24/19

It was a beautiful day as Mike drove me the Correctional Center in Hawaii. I watched the waves beat against the shore as we drove the long drive. They lulled me into a peaceful state as we drove along the one lane road. I could see it from a distance. The razor wire atop the chain fence made a statement of its own that seemed in dark contrast to the beauty of the island. As we pulled in and parked, we both paused as we so often do, before we part. I sat there for a moment as my eyes fixed on a small child that ran towards the chain link fence. She had straight jet black hair and the same jet black eyes, revealing her Hawaiian heritage. She laughed and smiled as she ran from her mommy as if she had gotten away with something. And then she turned. Her tiny hands gripped the links of the fence and she stood and stared at the buildings on the other side. Her smile faded and she looked confused as she stared straight ahead, her innocence in wonderment of why they were there. I said softly, “Look Mike.” We both sat and looked at this precious 2 year old who had stolen our hearts with her innocence. Tears filled our eyes. So many are impacted by the brokenness of prison. So many ask why I do what I do. But this is truly why. Maybe someday, her daddy will come home and his life will be changed. And her life will be changed too. God is a God of promise. He is a God of Hope. And yes, we all bear an accountability for our choices, but I am so thankful that His mercy endureth for ever. My sincere thanks to all of the staff, and especially Laureen who spent hours preparing these many meetings and went with me to every cell block. There would be more to follow….

copyright Marsha Barth 2019

A New Day…..

published 9/25/2019

I hear the train rumbling in the distance with its quiet hum echoing through the mountains. The whistle blows softly once, and then again. It is a faint sound that seems to float up the mountainside and blends into the early music of the songbirds outside. Oh the beauty, as a new day is birthed. Its peacefulness settles the heart from the hurry and scurry that a new day often demands. It awakens my heart to the precious things of life that truly matter, the simple things of life that make the heart smile. We live in a world that often spins us with hardships where we often hide them away where no one can see them. “How are you today?” “Oh, I’m fine.” And the whole time your heart is breaking from the sorrow that you are carrying, the loneliness, the confusion, the pressure of uncertainty. There is a place that we can go to–“He that dwells in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in Him will I trust. Surely He shall deliver you from the snare of the enemy, and from the noisome pestilence.” Psalm 91. Such a great promise. Today is a new day. Spoke with the team at the Lebanon County Correctional Facility. One of the girls brought up that they had read my book. The chaplain went to try to find the copies on their book shelves. She handed them to the girls and said, “Which one do you want, the worn out one, or the worn out one?” My heart rejoices in that the women can read the books and know that God loves them too. That He has a plan for their lives. That they are not defined by where they have been, what has happened to them, or where they are now, but who they are in Christ and that He has a plan and a purpose for their lives. God Bless~~

copyright Marsha Barth 2019


Snapshots of the Heart…

published 9/15/19

       When I was in West Virginia visiting the other week, I had the opportunity to spend some time with one of my dear brothers. We took a day and drove down to where so many years ago we went to have our family reunions. The irony was that it was this exact time of year that we always went there. We stood in the corner of the pavilion and looked out over the empty picnic tables. There was a quietness, and for a moment we were nine and ten years old again. And beside us stood our other two brothers, eleven and twelve years old. There we stood, in the same exact place that we had stood over 50 years ago. The four of us, shy, anxious and nervous standing there looking out at all the family that we saw only once a year, bustling around the tables, packing away the leftovers of the buffet of food that we had enjoyed for lunch, before sitting down and getting comfortable to hear the singing. I could hear the guitars beside us being plucked and tuned. All we wanted to do was get done the singing so we could go play on the swings and get into a good game of baseball. A smile crossed my face as I turned to my brother. He smiled back. Remember how we sang, “On Wolverton Mountain”. “Her tender lips, are sweeter than honey…” We took one more long look and then turned to go. These are “snapshots of the heart.” They are more real than the pictures we take, for they are experiences of the heart. There is a goodness to my life when I think of all the good that God has brought into my life. How He truly wipes away all tears from our eyes, brings us through the stormy nights, and brings us into a new season where the sun truly shines.
       Shared and spoke at the women’s seminar, “God is Completing a Good Work in Us” on Saturday, and also had a book signing for “The Shattering” and “The Shattering II”. What a wonderful time of fellowship, enjoying God’s presence, and feasting on the word.

copyright 2019 Marsha Barth


“Completing His Good Work,”

published 9/8/2019

Free Ladies’ Seminar being held this Saturday, September 14, 2019. See flier for details. Come have a great time in God’s word, great food, and great fellowship. All welcome. Book Signing for “The Shattering” and “The Shattering II”. Guest Speakers–Marsha Barth, Theresa Johnson, and Toni Stewart.


How Far are You Going?

published 9/6/2019

“Almost Heaven”-WV–view of Cumberland, MD in the far distance.

My brother Pat and myself (author, advocate, speaker) in Wiley Ford, WV.

published 9/6/2019

It is always nice to visit back home. There is no place like WV~~”Almost Heaven”. I got to visit there last week. I often ride past where we once lived. The house is long gone as the State took it when they put in the new road. I can’t help thinking, and I often told my children in times past, when we would ride over the exact spot, where the road crossed over what was once my childhood bedroom. It was always a strange feeling to realize that the then “Welcome to West Virginia” sign pierced through where once I had slept. On my drive back, I saw a sign on a tractor-trailer that said, “How far are you going?” and then in smaller print, “How far do you want to go?” It got me to thinking on this. How far are we going in life? And how far do we really want to go? We often gauge this by what the world and society deem as successful and important. But I truly feel this is not a reliable gauge. How far do we really want to go to just be the person that God purposed us to be? All the accolades aside, all the barometers of what success is or isn’t, what really matters is what is in our heart, and the lives that we impact. How far are you going? How far do you want to go? We all have the potential to make a difference, to brighten the corner where we are, to touch the heart of those around us. It all comes back to us—our choices. So often, I depend on this verse to get me where I am going–”Your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, This is the way walk you in it, when you turn to the right hand and when you turn to the left.” Isaiah 30:21 How far am I going? As far as God will lead me on this awesome journey of life. Visited a Prison Boot Camp and spoke to about 140 men and women inmates while away. I am always touched by how one thread of hope can change a life forever. God Bless you on your journey……

 copyright marsha barth 2019


An Act of Kindness….

published 8/25/19

On my way to my son’s house we pass a beautiful old barn. The wood is gray and worn, the windows are broken, and it has a good 30% lean on its foundation. And yet it has weathered the test of time, and through all its brokenness, refuses to fall. It radiates a beauty that only age and time can produce. Beauty is often perceived in how we see it. Every day, in our journey of life, we pass the wounded and broken, those hurting and in pain. We see them at work, at school, at the grocery store, and even in our churches. They often don’t say a word, but we can see their fear, the lack of trust, and often the anger in their eyes. But what can we do? A kind smile, a silent prayer, any gesture of kindness could touch a life forever. They may not respond. They may silently or openly rebuff you, or walk away. But they may not commit suicide that day. They may not overdose that day. Maybe just one act of kindness could touch a heart forever. Finished teaching eighth week of “Victim to Victor” course at Teen Challenge this week.

copyright marsha barth 2019

The Cliff~~~

published 7/28/2019


In my books “The Shattering” and “The Shattering II”, I share many precious memories. Some are happy and some are sad. I had a favorite place of refuge during some of those sad times. It was the “cliff”. Often, I would go there to search out my heart, poor my soul out to God, or to clear my mind. Throughout the years now, that I have spoken at prisons, rehabs and recovery, churches, colleges, universities, and at state events and venues, I often tell this story. “I lived in a three-room house, not to be mistaken for a three-bedroom-house. The bathroom was 150′ up the hill, the horseshoe pegs farther up another 150′, and the cliff that went straight down another 150′ past the horseshoes.” Laughing, I continue, “We learned at a very young age to not chase the ball after the horseshoe pegs.” Often asked if I was afraid of the cliff, I answered, “No. I was more afraid of the outhouse.” When asked why? I would explain laughing, “Because they cut the holes in the outhouse to fit big people. I used to have nightmares of falling down the outhouse more than the cliff.” The cliff let me see that the world was a big place, where new horizons go on forever. It let me see that the promises of God reached much further than the circumstances of my life were dictating to me at that time. Far beyond the vast mountains, past the horizon, lie a hope. A hope that could not be seen, but a hope that God had placed in my heart during those most troublesome years of my childhood. God is not only a God of today~~But He is a God of our tomorrows. Past the hurt, pain, and confusion, He is the beacon that shines in our night, giving us a hope that is ever present and forever on our horizon. Currently, I am teaching the “Victim to Victor” study at Teen Challenge. For more information concerning the books or speaking venues, please feel free to contact me at [email protected]

copyright marsha barth 2019


Rainbow Promises…..

published 07/10/2019

I love rainbows—that beautiful spear of brilliant colors piercing the dark clouds and reminding us always that God is always in the midst of our storms. Can there be a more beautiful display or reminder of the promises of hope that we have and are given, from a God who truly loves us and cares about our deepest struggles? A few weeks ago, Mike and I were heading to the hospital for his surgery. There was a light rain drizzling down from the dismal dark gray clouds, which seemed to reflect the mood of our hearts at that time. No one likes to go into surgery. There are always a million “ifs” ricocheting through your mind. But as we continued to drive, and talked about the pending day, there before us, bright and beautiful, appeared the most beautiful rainbow. Instead of a brilliant bow, it was more like an arrow piercing through the dark clouds that now were etched in the light of the rising sun. It was not just the beauty that was before us that gripped our hearts, but the great reminder of the promise that shone before us–a reminder of all the promises that God has given to us, and Who has fulfilled every one of them, throughout the many years that we have walked together with Him. “The Lord is not slack concerning His promise,” 2 Peter 3:9 Mike is still recovering but is doing well. Do you have a promise?? A promise that is steadfast and sure? One that cannot fail you? Tomorrow is as bright as the promises of God. I see them ever unfolding before me and reminding me that God’s ear is not heavy that He cannot hear, nor his arm short that He cannot save. 
Taught the men at Teen Challenge—week #3 on the study “Going from Victim to Victor” I see God’s beautiful promises for each and every one of their lives….Rainbow Promises.

copyright marsha barth 2019

In the Eye of the Storm…..

published 7/11/2019

I hear the loud rumble of thunder. I look up and see white bellowing clouds etched in bright sunlight. They move quickly across the sky as if fleeing the deep gray clouds that are tumbling towards them. Crack—and then another clap of thunder catches my attention. I stop and look up into the majestic sky. There is no rain. I cannot see the lightning, but I know a storm is coming. When I was a child, thunder terrified me. But now, I can hardly take in the splendor of the beautiful canvas that hangs above me. A portrait painted by the Master’s hand—majestic and strong. Now, I can see and know that just one touch of the Master’s hand can still the mighty storms that come my way. I have learned not to fear as the storm clouds of life gather round me, or the loud thunder rages, or the lightning pierces through the darkness. All is well, for in the darkest night or fiercest storm, you will always see Jesus walking in the midst, with His arms stretched out to love and carry us in the eye of the storm. Spoke and taught session two of “Victim to Victor” with the men at Teen Challenge on Tuesday.

copyright marsha barth 2019


Beautiful Roses~~

published 6/17/2019

There are no need for words when a child lights up the room with their laughter. There are no need for words when you stand beside the bed of a loved one for the last time. There are no need for words when the bride and groom walk down the aisle together, arm in arm, love as one. There are no need for words as the sound of the morning chorus of songbirds usher in a new day. There are no words to describe when you look into the depth of another person’s soul and see the spark of Hope where despair once was. Oh, the beauty of life–to see the beauty of a rose, rather than feel the thorns that surround them. May we on life’s journey, search out the beauty of the rose, and may we have the courage to reach out and rescue it from the thorns that hold it in its tight grasp. Taught the 4th session of “Victim to Victor” at Teen Challenge this week and also visited and spoke with our team at the Lebanon County Correctional Center. There I meet so many beautiful roses.

copyright marsha barth 2019


“Just One Touch…”

published 6/12/2019


As I drove down the road the other day, there stood a little squirrel in the road. He turned his head frantically to the right and to the left, as if he was looking for cars. Then he stopped and lowered his body and head to his little friend who lay on the road not moving. He nudged his little friend, but he did not move. He nudged him again harder, but he still not move. He stood up again and looked right and then left and then frantically tried to tug on his little friend as if to say, “the cars are gone now; come on get up, before another car comes.” To watch this unselfish act of love of another creature as he earnestly tried to help his little mate and friend, moved my heart with compassion. We cannot know, how a simple act of kindness can impact a life forever; one kind smile, one encouraging word, one touch of understanding. I visit and speak at many prisons, rehabs, re-entries and recovery centers. Sometimes, I feel like that little squirrel. I just want to nudge them one more time to get up, before it is too late. But sometimes they just don’t or can’t respond. We must never give up to reaching out to those who need our help; that one kind smile, that one encouraging word, that one touch of understanding can change a life forever. It did mine. I visited and spoke at Teen Challenge-Week 2 of the series, “Going from Victim to Victor.” 
“But the Master comes, And the foolish crowd, never can quite understand, The worth of a soul, and the change that is wrought, By just one touch of the Masters’ Hand.”( Myra Brooks Welch)

copyright marsha barth 2019


Beautiful Bouquets……

published 6/2/2019

They started by bringing me the clover flowers. It wasn’t intended to be a bouquet. They picked them not by beauty but by the ones that had the sweetest aroma. One pink petunia, that shouldn’t have been picked from their yard, was added and brightened the bouquet. And then the flowers from the Dogwood, well, they were just there, and had to be added, and they were allowed to pick these. Whether it is sitting on the grassy bank and watching my older grandchildren play hockey together, or teaching them how to make blades of grass whistle, or collecting flowers with the younger ones, these are the beautiful bouquets of life. Bouquets that make the