Free Easter Memes and Pictures

Free Easter Memes and Pictures




Free Easter Memes and Easter Christian Devotionals



He Lives! All Glory To His Name!

He Lives! All Glory To His Name!


We celebrate the Easter season by reflecting on the resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. We must remember. Christ is not dead in a tomb. That tomb is empty and He is risen from his three-day prison. Jesus Christ, the Messiah is alive today in a physical, glorified and perfected body.  HE LIVES! ALL GLORY TO HIS NAME!

Troy Wagstaff ©

Easter Memes and Graphics – Christian Devotional

Easter Memes and Graphics – Christian Devotional

This Christian memes about Easter are free to use now or whenever. The Easter message is good to use year around.


The Resurrection Of Jesus Christ


The first thing Christ did when he was resurrected was appear to three women.


Because Christ was resurrected, we will also be resurrected.

How to Reinvent Yourself With Fibro . . . Living an Eventful Purpose Filled Life

How to Reinvent Yourself With Fibro . . . Living an Eventful Purpose Filled Life

I have had fibromyalgia for more than thirty years but the past eleven years have been debilitating and outright paralyzing. Because of how sick I became my blogging became erratic and eventually a burden. The first twenty years of fibromyalgia were diagnosed as arthritis. The illness had taken a severe turn for the worse and my health deteriorated very fast. I wrote a non fiction short story about my 31-year journey with Fibromyalgia that goes into the details of my illness and the myriad of symptoms.

I finally got the right doctors, the right diagnosis and my symptoms stabilized and in some cases improved. I was in a position to manage my condition to a certain extent. I have chronic fatigue, chronic pain, fibro fog which is a term used to describe issues related to the brain, memory and cognition. I have flare ups of various symptoms quite frequently. Living with fibromyalgia is like riding on an out of control roller coaster with no end in sight. There are occasional lulls in the ride and then there are unexpected sharp turns which are the fibro flares that occur frequently.

To make a real long story a little shorter I found out, through one of my pain doctors that writing, of any kind, is good physical therapy for the brain, similar to learning a foreign language. Any type of language art is good therapy for the brain to help maintain or regain memory loss and improve cognition.

reinventing_yourselfWhen my doctor knew, I was blogging and writing she said that I should do it every day as physical therapy for the brain. What started as a hobby became a type of therapy for dealing with fibro fog.

Part of my non fiction writing, deals with my experiences with fibromylagia. I write fibromyalgia posts to add to fibro awareness. I maintain a list of topics to write about regarding fibromyalgia.

One such topic was reinventing yourself after your life has been turned upside down from the terrible illness. I have reinvented myself with writing. I have been a published writer of technical articles in the defunct WordPerfect magazine more than 25 years ago. I have done on again off again non fiction writing through the years.

My personal re-invention is in the form of writing both non fiction on my blog and fiction writing.

I came across a writing contest sponsored by Positive Writer and the topic was how writing has positively influenced my life.  In spite of my fibro fog the serendipity was not lost on me. This article was destined both to touch on the reinvention of my life as a fibromyalgia patient and to show how writing has had a profoundly positive effect on my life. Writing allows for self expression regardless of the genre. It also gives me good therapy and gives me a new identity as I seek to reinvent myself through writing.

About five or six months ago I got an itch to try fiction writing. I got hooked. Now I continue to write non fiction, as well as fiction. I have added a couple of short stories on my blog and will continue to do so. I am at various stages of two novels, one a historical fiction and the other fantasy.

As I have become much more serious about writing, I have seen some improvement in my memory issues. It will be a slow process. I have something meaningful to do each day which gives me a purpose. When you’re very sick over a long time, you tend to feel your life has no purpose. Writing gave that back to me.

For me, writing is the difference between a deep dark pit of despair and having daily hope. This is very important to the chronically ill. Writing a short story or a book will last many lifetimes and be a testament to my effort. Any kind of writing can be therapeutic from journaling to creative writing.

Writing is a way to express yourself. You don’t need to publish to be a writer. All you need to do is “take pen to paper” and express yourself. It can be therapeutic on many levels and it is a great way to live a legacy behind.

I needed to reinvent myself since I can no longer do what I used to do. Writing has been a gift to me. I can write when I feel good. I can sit on my recliner with my computer on my lap and write until I need a rest.

Writing is a way to bring something beautiful and positive out of something so insidious as fibromyalgia. Writing has been my rebirth. It has given me a sense of purpose and it gives me a reason to be excited about waking up in the morning. Writing fiction gives me a chance to create characters that can do things I can no longer do. I can live my life through my characters.

And to top it all off, I am getting physical therapy done for my brain. Writing is possible for anyone with an imagination and the ability to dream. I may only write an hour here or thirty minutes there but by the end of the day I might have a few hours of writing done. I have a purpose in spite of my severe limitations because of writing.

Troy Wagstaff ©

Christian Daily Devotional For Easter

Christian Daily Devotional For Easter

As I have been preparing some Easter messages about the resurrection of Jesus Christ, I have been reading up each of the four gospel’s accounts of the resurrection. Of course the number one message is that Jesus was resurrected but one message I felt like I should mention in addition to the resurrection is that when Jesus Christ was resurrected, he appeared first to women, then to the Apostles and other saints.

easter_cw_dev_4If Christians really read the Bible and followed its teachings then there would never be any question of women in the gospel. So many women are mistreated and abused under the name of Christianity. This is terrible and should never happen.

Everyone, men, women and children all have their role to play in the gospel of Jesus Christ. No one is loved more or less by the Redeemer. He loves us all the same. I think, as a testament to that message, that is why he first appeared to Mary Magdalene, Joanna and Mary, the mother of James. We should always treat each other, children, women and men with love and respect as we follow the example of Jesus Christ. Let’s let the Easter season remind us of how important we all are to Jesus.

Troy Wagstaff ©

I Want To Know What Love Is

I Want To Know What Love Is

Christian Devotional

Since the dawn of time men and women have been searching for love. Adam and Eve loved each other and they taught their children about love. But as the population of the earth grew ever bigger, not everyone could feel the love their souls desired.

Men and women began looking for love in all the wrong places trying to feel a void that could only be filled with love. Countless songs have been written about looking for love. Mostly they are talking about the love of a man or women.

know_what_love_isMarried love is one of the greatest loves of all, but the greatest love of all love is between a person and their Redeemer, Jesus Christ.

One of the great rock songs about love was written by Mick Jones. I’ve enclosed seven lines from his song “I Want to know What Love Is.”

“I wanna know what love is
I want you to show me
I wanna feel what love is
I know you can show me.”

I saw this un attributed quote on Pintrest recently, it says “Jesus died for you knowing you might not love Him back. That is love!”

If you want to know what love is then look no farther that Jesus Christ. If you read about his life and study his teachings you will know what love is, what real, eternal love is.

Mr. Jones goes on to write:

“In my life there’s been heartache and pain
I don’t know if I can face it again
Can’t stop now, I’ve traveled so far, to change this lonely life.”

No love, except the Saviors love, can really ease heart ache and pain. With Christ you can face anything. Through Christ you will never need to feel lonely again.

Troy Wagstaff

The Village Gate: A Short Story

The Village Gate: A Short Story

Thump! Thump! The “caller” was banging on the wooden door of the Murphy’s small cabin. It was midnight but this was urgent business. In a nervous hurry, the caller barged into the small cabin and loudly called out Clive’s name with no regard to anyone sleeping.

“Duncan! Is that you?!” Clive Murphy said with a scowling yell.

village_gate“Clive, get your gear, troubles brewing at the Village gate. Meet us at the school house.” As if to punctuate that sentence with an exclamation point, Duncan slammed the door shut.

As Clive was preparing to leave, Doria told her husband “you tell Duncan to knock next time! He better never barge into our house again! I don’t care if our village is under attack by the Unknowns or not. Next time he knocks or he gets shot!” Since the Murphy’s were a part of the Protection Society, Clive was obligated to go when requested, day or night, no questions asked.

Doria Murphy, was clanking around the kitchen getting breakfast started when her little ones woke up from a fitful sleep. Clive Jr. (CJ), the oldest came bounding down the loft.

“Ma, why didn’t you wake me up when you got up? I should to be tending to the livestock, with Pa gone” said CJ as he was getting his coat on.

“You’re right CJ, I should have thought about the livestock . . . ” her words trailed off as CJ left the cabin. In truth, Doria was thinking about her husband’s involvement with the Protection Society.

The cabin was almost shaking as the winds picked up. The wind sounded like shrieks and mournful wailing. The wind would then calm down revealing a peaceful early morning only to send autumn leaves up in the air in a swirling pattern with harsh sounds of tools and scraps of woods pounding on the barn or cabin. There seemed to be a strange rhythm to the wind gusts.

By now it was breakfast time and the cabin was engulfed with the sounds and smells of bacon on the frying pan. The wind gusts had died down. Since Clive had not yet returned from the Protection Society at the village gate, Doria couldn’t help but think “this time they must be fighting the Unknowns.” That thought a worried Doria.

Many times the Protection Society had been called to arms to protect the village from the Unknowns. Until now, a show of force seemed to keep the Unknowns at bay. The Protection Society had never actually fought the Unknowns and they usually were home by morning. Since it was past his usual arrival time Doria was concerned a real fight was on. How would they fare? They didn’t really have any fighting experience.

Doria had just placed the last strip of bacon in the frying pan and wiped her hands on her apron, peering out the window she saw Maggie with her red braids floating in the air as she raced out of the chicken coop with her egg basket curiously empty.

Instinctively, Doria’s thoughts were swirling with Maggie frantically running out of the chicken coop and wondering where her husband was? Her thoughts were blasted as a breathless Maggie burst through the door at the same time the rooster eerily crowed. “Ma! Come quickly!” yelled Maggie, “there is something wrong in the chicken coop!”

Maggie and her mama rushed to the chicken coop. As Doria stepped into the roost, a strange feeling of despair came over Doria. All the chickens were dead except for the old crowing rooster. “Oh my . . . what in the name of St. Patrick happened to the chickens?”

As Doria was stepping out of the coop, she smelled the burning bacon. As she was running to the kitchen she wondered “why is everything going wrong this morning, what’s going on?”

While cleaning the frying pan that burnt the bacon a flood of questions came over Doria as she wondered what her husband might be doing? Was he in any danger? Could he be dead? He was a strong hard-working man but he was a peaceful man, did he have a killer instinct to kill whatever was threatening the village?

CJ rushed into the cabin followed by a rush of red and orange autumn leaves hollering “Ma, where’s the rope?”

“It’s in the barn,” his Ma replied as she walked past CJ and closed the door against the cold autumn wind as it started to batter their cabin.

“No, it ain’t, I looked everywhere, I’ve got to find the rope, Ladd’s loose and Pa’s saddle is on him. He won’t come to me when I call his name, he seems spooked for some reason.”

“What do you mean Ladd’s loose? Your father rode off with him when the Protection Society came calling last night!” Doria had a feeling that something wasn’t right. With her husband off fighting the Unknown, all the chickens dead, Clive’s horse on the loose, despair and foreboding filled her senses.

Maggie was cleaning the living area of the cabin while Doria started getting dinner ready. A while later Doria called to Maggie, “would you please go out and check on your brother CJ? It’s been a while and I want to know about the horse.”

Dusk had settled in and the cold wind was still battering the small wooden cabin. Maggie put on her scarf and coat and then she ran straight to the barn like she was told.

Bursting though the wooden doors, she startled the livestock. Her brother CJ was bent over a heap of a person with bloody clothes.

“Maggie, come quick, over here!” Yelled CJ.

“Pappa!” gasped Maggie as she recognized her pappa’s face. His head and chest were soaked in blood. Clive’s eyelids seemed to flutter a few times before his eyes opened. Maggie was startled and scared. Without a moments hesitation she ran toward the cabin. She came running through the cabin doors breathlessly shouting “Ma! Come quick!”

Troy Wagstaff © Copyright, All Rights Reserved

Are You Wearing The The Whole Armor Of God Correctly?


There is a world at war going on and has been since Adam and Eve. It is a war of good verse’s evil. This was manifested when Cain killed Able. Ever since then the battle of good over evil has been a prevalent theme throughout the Bible.

It’s no wonder that the Apostle Paul admonished the Ephesians to put on the whole armor of God in the war that has been going on for thousands of years.


“Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God: Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints.” (Ephesians 6:11-18)

The whole armor of God is described metaphorically as having your loins girt about with truth, the breastplate of righteousness, and the feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation and the sword of the spirit. But the armor of God is not all, Paul goes on to say that we should put on the whole armor of God and then pray always and watch for the evil enemy with perseverance.

Doing this will ensure our victory against the evil one. Let’s look more closely at the whole armor of God and see how each piece of the spiritual armor will protect us. The spiritual pieces of armor are truth, righteousness, the preparation of the gospel of peace, faith, salvation, the spirit, praying and watching.

whole_armor_god_labeledSome of the spiritual armor makes sense and is somewhat obvious like truth, faith, and prayer. Some not so obvious like the preparation of the gospel of peace and helmet of salvation.

Let’s look at all of these pieces of armor individually and in doing so we can also do an inventory check to see what we need to do to make sure our spiritual armor is on and ready to use against the powers of evil.

Truth comes from the Bible and the better we know it, the less likely we are to be lead astray by what other people think is truth. For example, if we are firm in our understanding of the book of Genesis and the creation, the floods etc. then we can understand the truth about how the earth was formed and not be lead astray by false science.

Faith is to believe in that which is true but not seen with the naked eye. Faith is to believe something by feeling it, not by seeing it. You can feel the wind but you can’t see it. You can even see the effects of wind but you can’t see the air blowing in all its fury. You can feel faith by the whispering of the spirit of the Holy Ghost and you can see the effects of faith but you can’t see it with the naked eye.

In the case of Jesus Christ and his gospel we see with our hearts, not our eyes.

With the help of the dictionary, “righteousness is the state or quality of being righteous. Righteous is characterized by uprightness or morality. Acting in an upright, moral way, a righteous and godly person.”

Righteousness is a way of living. If you are righteous then you are living and applying the gospel principles taught by Jesus Christ. It’s one thing to read “thou shalt not commit adultery” but it’s another thing to live by the higher law of not lusting after someone.

Living the gospel, not just reading about it . . . applying the gospel not just getting motivated by a Christian meme on Facebook is what it’s all about. If you are busy doing good and serving the Lord then you will be protected against the evil one.

The gospel of Jesus Christ as outlined and taught in the Holy Bible is the gospel of peace. If you love the Lord and are busy striving to keep his commandments then you are living the gospel of peace.

Looking up the word ‘preparation’ in the dictionary helps to make sense of the phrase
“the preparation of the gospel of peace” which could otherwise be phrased being prepared with the gospel of peace. This could also indicate that you are a peacemaker to the extent you can be, in a war between good and evil.

The gospel of peace or the gospel of Jesus Christ is the gospel whereby salvation comes from. If we know that we will be saved by the gospel of Christ, we can be brave in the fight against evil.

The spirit of truth testifies of the word of God which is found in the Holy Bible. If we are filled with the spirit of truth we will not be deceived in this war of temptation, thoughts and ideas contrary to righteousness.

Praying always is not compared to a piece of armor but it is mentioned prominently in this section of scripture because it so important that we talk to God. All the armor in the world and all the armies in the world can only prevail against wickedness if they are directed by the will of God. We find that will and word of God through prayer.

Armies are guided by a commander that sees the big picture and knows if the army should attack head on or in a flanking maneuver. God is our commander in this battle and praying to him makes perfect sense. We will let Heavenly Father guide our armies in defense of truth and righteousness.

Is their anything lacking in your armor that God has designed to protect us? If so, it is not to late to fix that armor and get it back on for your protection.

Troy Wagstaff © Copyright, All rights reserved.

back on for your protection.

The Art Of Being Wise

Inspirational Quote: The Art Of Being Wise


The art of being wise is to knowing what to overlook.

The Barbershop Waltz. A Short Story

The Barbershop Waltz

Andy’s Barbershop was the local gathering place for all the men who lived in the small town of Woodington. The men would come in for a bottle of soda pop, some gossip and a hair cut. Andy’s was the only place in town with a radio. Andy’s had a barber chair and a leather razor strap anchored to the counter. The counter had space for the tools of the trade and a sink. There was a large ornate mirror for the client to look at after his hair was cut.

The other side of the narrow barbershop was lined with chairs and a coffee table with magazines and books. The shop was deep and narrow. At the back end of the shop there was a pool table for some of the men to use while they waited their turn at a haircut. Andy’s even had an indoor water closet, one of the first buildings in Woodington to do so.

The barbershop was especially popular during the noon hour were both men and women crowded to hear the latest news. On Saturdays, Andy’s was packed in the afternoon to hear the sports scores. The men would smoke their cigarettes and drink their moonshine while playing pool and listening to the radio while waiting their turn for a hair cut.

On Saturday nights the pool room was opened to the community for dancing. The townsfolk would get dressed up like they were going to Church and meet at the barbershop to dance.

What made these dances unique was that while the rest of the country was caught up in the Foxtrot and other popular dance moves, the town of Woodington preferred the old Waltz.

During the week Andy’s barbershop opened at 7:30 a.m. to give the regulars a shave. It was at Andy’s place where the men of the town first heard that the United States was going to war in Europe. It was the same place that everyone heard the announcement of the Armistice on November 11, 1918.

Jim Banack was a regular at Andy’s from the time he was a small boy until he went off to war. Jim was born in Woodington. As far back as he could remember, he got his monthly hair cut at old Andy’s barbershop. Jim was 13 years old when heard over the radio that prohibition was officially over.

“What does that mean, that prohibition is officially over?” Asked Jim. Jim’s dad said that “it means the nation can now drink alcoholic drinks” as he sipped on a cold beer. Jim was a little confused. More than half the men in the crowed barbershop were drinking moonshine or a beer.

Jim even did odd jobs for the barber during the depression. There were no jobs to be had but Andy would pay Jim to run errands. He even got a free haircut once a month for the help he gave.

Jim fell in love, got married to Alice and they celebrated their wedding reception at Andy’s Barbershop. If Jim had his way, they would have exchanged vows at the barbershop. A couple of years later James Jr. blessed their marriage on March 31, 1930.

As soon as James Jr. had enough hair to cut Jim took him to see old Andy. Andy put the first lock of hair on some wax paper and folded it up nicely for Alice.

Getting a hair cut at Andy’s barbershop was a monthly tradition for James Jr. as well. In fact, it was at the town barbershop on Monday morning that Jim and James Jr. First heard the news that the Japanese bombed Pear Harbor the day before on Sunday morning.

News was slow getting to the town of Woodington with only one radio, and a weekly newspaper. James Jr. all of eleven years old declared that he would be going to Albany to sign up to fight “the Japs.” Jim and Andy chuckled.

It wasn’t too long after that episode when Jim Banack was drafted into the Army. Two days before Jim’s induction, the town gathered at Andy’s barbershop to give him a farewell party and a traditional town waltz.

“That was March 31, 1942 my daddy went off to fight the Germans in North Africa,” said James reflectively to his daughter Lilly. “In fact, it was the last town waltz Woodington ever had at Andy’s Barber shop” James went on to say.

“I still went there for my monthly hair cuts. But after my dad got killed in North Africa, old Andy seemed to feel to old to host the weekly waltz. I think he took the death of my father very hard, I think part of Andy died when my Dad died,” said James Jr.

“It wasn’t long after that, old Andy retired and his son took over the barbershop,” remembered James.

“He was Andy Jr. But folks just called him A..J., He took to running things quite well.”

James went on to say “It was ironic how every major event I can recollect seems to have happened while A.J. was cutting my hair or giving me a shave. I remember VE day being announced over the radio while I was getting a shave. That was sometime in the first of May back in 1945 that we heard about victory in Europe but those ‘blasted Japs’ were still fighting us in the Pacific.”

the_barbershop_waltz“Don’t tell me Dad that you were getting a haircut or shave when they dropped the atomic bomb in Japan” asked Alice.

“Well, as a matter of fact, I was getting my monthly haircut when we heard about the bombing.”

“What about two days later when the second bomb was dropped on Nagasaki? You couldn’t have been there since you already had you hair cut for the month” stated Alice, as if she caught her Dad in his tale tells.

“Your right Alice, I wasn’t getting my hair cut but I stopped by for a soda pop after a baseball game and heard the news about the second A-bomb.”

“What else can you tell me about the history you lived through dad?” asked Alice. She was working on a high school history paper.

“I was on my way home from the little town hospital after you were born back in ‘53 when I stopped by A.J.’s place to listen to the evening news and we heard that the troops were finally coming home from Korea.”

“Were you at the barbershop when Kennedy was killed?” Asked Alice as she tried to show of her history knowledge.

With a big grin on his face James nodded his head, “that is if you mean Jack Kennedy, some of you young folks get him and his brother Bobby mixed up.”

“Yes dad, I know my history. But what about RFK? Were you at the barbershop when he was killed?”

“No, we moved from New York about a month or so before Robert F. Kennedy died.” Replied James.

“I am interested in this barbershop you keep mentioning, could we go there on a long weekend trip?” asked Alice.

“No, there is nothing to see. Andy Jr. boarded up the old Barbershop in the summer of ‘76 after a new barbershop came to town with it’s modern equipment and color TV. He started to loose business so he took an early retirement.”

Time goes by as it always does and before long Alice, who never married, was 57 years old and had the summer off. She was a history teacher. She decided to take a bus ride out to Woodington and see what was left of that old town so near the Catskills.

It was dark as she got off the bus at the Woodington bus stop. Not much had happened in this old town. It wasn’t a ghost town but in the dark, it sure looked like it.

She walked quickly through the darkly lit streets of downtown Woodington and turned the corner only to notice that the only lights illuminating the entire block were from the old barber shop which had been vacant for years. There was a loose sign hanging from the brick wall that faintly read “Andy’s Barbershop.” Even the barber pole was slowly spinning in the dark.

“That’s it,” she thought to herself. “That’s Andy’s barbershop.” Intrigued by the only lights illuminating the entire block, she walked closer to the barbershop. It was clearly run down and had all the evidence of being vacant for decades. “Why were the lights on?” Alice thought to herself.

When she got to the window and looked inside, she was shocked to see a myriad of couples . . . waltzing. She stood there looking through the large glass window for several minutes until someone inside made eye contact with her.

Alice was shocked at seeing someone she knew . . . but that person was dead. She buried her mother ten years ago. Now there she was, in a long fancy gown. She watched as her mother tugged on the arm of a man in a nice black suite. He turned around to look at his wife and saw Alice through the window.

Hand in hand, both her father and mother walked to the door and motioned for her to come inside. Alice, feeling stunned with a dose of disbelief, walked into Andy’s barbershop. She felt a little tingle of warmth come over her which caused her to look down. As she did, she noticed a beautiful vintage gown in place of her sweat shirt and jeans.

She realized the waltzing music in the background. No words were yet spoken as she was ushered further into the shop. Then her father tapped an older looking gentleman on the shoulder, he turned around and the silence was broken as James Jr. said “Dad, I’d like you to meet your granddaughter Alice. Alice, this is grandpa Jim.”

Troy Wagstaff © Copyright. All rights reserved.

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