While normally I get my break from the world in the actual great outdoors, where birds chirp and sing their songs, where tree frogs fill the air with resonate music, and where cicadas thrum a rhythmic pulse of sound that lends another instrument to the symphony of nature, sometimes being outside isn't possible.
Today is such a day. Jared isn't feeling well and after being up with him almost all night, the idea of trying to push him around outside when he is under the weather seems cruel. Breathing treatments are part of our day today every four hours in the hopes that we can clear the congestion and coughing.
Instead, I have discovered a tremendously wonderful channel on Roku called “Awesome Planet” that has beautiful natural scenery combined with very relaxing and minimal musical accompaniment.
The volume is low, the beautiful cinematography from exotic places is resplendent and breathtaking, and the tranquility is immeasurable.
While it isn't quite the same as being out in nature, for today it will be the next best thing.
The effect of the natural scenes and the gentle music is restorative and calming. It is like washing away layer upon layer of stress and strain.
I honestly believe that is why it is so important to unplug, unwind, and unleash ourselves from the fetters of daily living in a 24-hour society that truly binds us down in ways we are not even aware of or appreciate the depth of our bondage.
Inviting, tranquil, and as a balm to a soul ravaged by trying to keep up in a too frenetic pace of life.
Nature. God intended for us to be part of this creation because we can learn from the time we take to walk away from our own genius and enjoy His wonders.
August 14, 2018
July 16, 2018
Yielding, capitulating, surrendering
Yielding - giving way to another, waiting your turn, staying back until the right time. Not necessarily dictionary definitions, but what I've experienced.
Capitulating - being forced to bow down due to circumstances despite having fought against them, often due to bullheadedness on my part in a situation where I was in the wrong, but unwilling to admit it due to my stubborn pride.
Surrendering - a choice to give up my assumed positions of power and authority either before OR after the battle is enjoined in order to save self or others from the battle's fray and consequences. Sometimes done as an act of fear for retribution, and sometimes done as an act of contrition realizing what I had planned would have brought great harm to myself and/or others.
I don't find these terms to be offensive. Our ideas about what it means to give place in our heart, mind and soul for the presence, influence and power of Almighty God is to surrender, to capitulate and to yield up self for a greater good beyond the scope and understanding of this world.
During our sacrament meeting yesterday, the 4th verse of “God Loved Us, So He Sent His Son” was referenced in one of the addresses presented to us. The words spoke deeply to my often hardened heart about both the need and the purpose for preparing myself to yield up my all to my Father in Heaven. The words read:
In word and deed He doth require
My will to His, like son to sire,
Be made to bend, and I, as son,
Learn conduct from the Holy One.
Capitulating - being forced to bow down due to circumstances despite having fought against them, often due to bullheadedness on my part in a situation where I was in the wrong, but unwilling to admit it due to my stubborn pride.
Surrendering - a choice to give up my assumed positions of power and authority either before OR after the battle is enjoined in order to save self or others from the battle's fray and consequences. Sometimes done as an act of fear for retribution, and sometimes done as an act of contrition realizing what I had planned would have brought great harm to myself and/or others.
I don't find these terms to be offensive. Our ideas about what it means to give place in our heart, mind and soul for the presence, influence and power of Almighty God is to surrender, to capitulate and to yield up self for a greater good beyond the scope and understanding of this world.
During our sacrament meeting yesterday, the 4th verse of “God Loved Us, So He Sent His Son” was referenced in one of the addresses presented to us. The words spoke deeply to my often hardened heart about both the need and the purpose for preparing myself to yield up my all to my Father in Heaven. The words read:
In word and deed He doth require
My will to His, like son to sire,
Be made to bend, and I, as son,
Learn conduct from the Holy One.
In my words, both the things I think AND the things that proceed forth from thought to spoken words, there is a requirement. I am to turn my self-will to what God designs for me to do.
In my deeds, both the things I plan and those things that I omit, there is a requirement to consider what Christ would actually do in similar situations.
As a son *child* to the Father who gave them life and birth, my desires should be to follow the righteous example I've been set and to willingly do likewise. So why is it so very hard to see that relationship and do likewise? It is that inner prodigal spirit of self-will above all other considerations that pushes away the One who loves me the most, until I am so broken, beaten, and bloodied by my choices that I either crawl back in shame, willing to be but a mere servant to the one who once I called Father, or to shrink from His presence entirely withdrawing so completely as to deny Him and the relationship in an act of rebellion and defiance that equals spiritual and physical death.
I can be made to bend by force of circumstances, and there have been times that has happened. But far sweeter to the taste spiritually are those times I have CHOSEN to bend my will and my desires out of a greater desire to love and serve my Father. It is in those moments that I feel most keenly that relationship AND that furtherance of love and emotional/spiritual connection which opens my heart to how I can become more like Christ and in due season, more like my Father in Heaven through that example.
Is it truly yielding in the strictest sense of the word? Like the classic monkey trap, we cling tightly to what we value as our personal treasure unwilling at times to see that there is far more that can become treasure unto us when we loosen our grasp on the finite in order to be open handed to receive the infinite.
I do that to myself. I shut my hands thinking I have what it is that I need/want, and in that very moment of closure, bat away those greater things of blessing that could have been mine.
Thankfully we are given a great gift of repentance and rescue through the Atonement of Christ.
When I choose to bend, I am blessed and even when I am bending due to my fallen state, I am blessed through that process so long as I do not shut my hands to that which God desires to grant unto me.
It's as a sweet surrender of love that can bring a magnitude of welcoming that every prodigal child can receive when we come to ourselves as a wanted, loved, and much desired child coming home unto that Father who gave us our very lives.
June 20, 2018
Thor and garbage bags
Jared is currently enjoying watching "Thor Ragnarok" while I attempted to do my bit for king and country in exercising. We had previously been outside in the humid Alabama soup that is June in God's country. Did 1.3 miles outside which is not too shabby for a day that feels like taking a sauna in your clothing.
While pedaling more indoors, I've been thinking about what it means to "simplify" our lives.
I'm looking at the things around me that I think are important... many of which I haven't touched in a long, long time.
So is it REALLY important, or am I simply too cowardly to give up my "hoard"?
I'm leaning more toward the latter than the former.
Even now, I'm looking at the items that can easily be let go on the piles that form my desk... gee... that escalated... already threw away a pile of junk!!
Need to keep going and free up my LIFE from these piles of stuff that I cannot take into the eternities anyway! And frankly, my kids won't want them.
With Thor, his issues were by and larged solved by enforcing his will with his mighty hammer. With me... it's more like enforcing freedom with garbage bags and willpower.
While pedaling more indoors, I've been thinking about what it means to "simplify" our lives.
I'm looking at the things around me that I think are important... many of which I haven't touched in a long, long time.
So is it REALLY important, or am I simply too cowardly to give up my "hoard"?
I'm leaning more toward the latter than the former.
Even now, I'm looking at the items that can easily be let go on the piles that form my desk... gee... that escalated... already threw away a pile of junk!!
Need to keep going and free up my LIFE from these piles of stuff that I cannot take into the eternities anyway! And frankly, my kids won't want them.
With Thor, his issues were by and larged solved by enforcing his will with his mighty hammer. With me... it's more like enforcing freedom with garbage bags and willpower.
November 7, 2017
I Could Have Sworn This Was Heaven
What is your version of paradise? What dream, held most dear
to your heart, is what you envision as your “heaven”?
The movie “Field of Dreams” is, to me, a bridge building presentation. Though Hollywood often misses truth in their cinematic efforts, this movie brings to light and understanding the deepest yearning of every beating, human heart – reconciliation through love.
To a boy now a man who wanted to have a connection to his father and the father that didn’t know how to act with a boy born to him in his mature years, their only connection was baseball and that became a painful exercise to a young man growing up in the turbulence of the 1960’s, where so much of what once was accepted as normal life was both questioned and cast aside in favor of a vastly different paradigm which often left people grasping for the human interaction that had likewise been cast aside for something fleeting, something more.
The summation of the movie where John Kinsella asks his son “Is this heaven?” to which his son Ray answers, “No, it’s Iowa.” underscores the misunderstanding about what truly comprises heaven. It isn’t until John says “I could have sworn this was heaven” that Ray begins to see – to truly see with spiritual eyes flung wide open – that it is his FAMILY and those precious connections moment by moment that are the peace and heaven so ardently sought for but seldom found in the 1960’s and beyond to our own day.
The tears roll down my face sitting here watching Ray and his father John have that long postponed catch in the backyard. It is at this moment of their reunion that each little segment of who I am and who I am trying to become is completely wrapped up in all that my parents tried to offer to me, it comes full circle every time I see this movie. It isn’t just the movie itself, but the emotional connection to everything good in my life that came from the two people who loved me the most in my life and with whom I had a catch, with whom I had a cry, with whom I felt the eternal circle of their unconditional love, and by extension the mortal surrogates to show me what it was and is to feel God’s love.
While your personal “Field of Dreams” may not involve a pickle between third and home, or the dream of being the one to hit the ball that saved the game, it really isn’t about baseball at all.
It is about rounding the bases or milestones of life and, in those older years, rounding third to come home to discover that all that is good about your family life IS your heaven, be it Iowa, New York, or a humble back yard in Alabama.
That’s what heaven really is all about.
The movie “Field of Dreams” is, to me, a bridge building presentation. Though Hollywood often misses truth in their cinematic efforts, this movie brings to light and understanding the deepest yearning of every beating, human heart – reconciliation through love.
To a boy now a man who wanted to have a connection to his father and the father that didn’t know how to act with a boy born to him in his mature years, their only connection was baseball and that became a painful exercise to a young man growing up in the turbulence of the 1960’s, where so much of what once was accepted as normal life was both questioned and cast aside in favor of a vastly different paradigm which often left people grasping for the human interaction that had likewise been cast aside for something fleeting, something more.
The summation of the movie where John Kinsella asks his son “Is this heaven?” to which his son Ray answers, “No, it’s Iowa.” underscores the misunderstanding about what truly comprises heaven. It isn’t until John says “I could have sworn this was heaven” that Ray begins to see – to truly see with spiritual eyes flung wide open – that it is his FAMILY and those precious connections moment by moment that are the peace and heaven so ardently sought for but seldom found in the 1960’s and beyond to our own day.
The tears roll down my face sitting here watching Ray and his father John have that long postponed catch in the backyard. It is at this moment of their reunion that each little segment of who I am and who I am trying to become is completely wrapped up in all that my parents tried to offer to me, it comes full circle every time I see this movie. It isn’t just the movie itself, but the emotional connection to everything good in my life that came from the two people who loved me the most in my life and with whom I had a catch, with whom I had a cry, with whom I felt the eternal circle of their unconditional love, and by extension the mortal surrogates to show me what it was and is to feel God’s love.
While your personal “Field of Dreams” may not involve a pickle between third and home, or the dream of being the one to hit the ball that saved the game, it really isn’t about baseball at all.
It is about rounding the bases or milestones of life and, in those older years, rounding third to come home to discover that all that is good about your family life IS your heaven, be it Iowa, New York, or a humble back yard in Alabama.
That’s what heaven really is all about.
October 13, 2017
Lessons in Humility
Humility is something everyone wants to believe they are in possession of, but which few of us actually qualify for in concrete terms.
Funny is the joke of the little fellow upon returning from Sunday School class who bragged about his humility in contrast with his fellows, but not so funny is the reminder that we are not quite living up to what we thought we were in our mind's eye.
Having a refresher and a gut check in our own personal level of humility is never an exciting process, but it IS a necessary one for those who are seeking to be able to qualify through Christ for exaltation and eternal life in God's presence.
We seldom see ourselves as being the "unkind one", the "rude one", the one "who needs a lesson on good manners", but truth be told, there are times that is the exact truth of it all.
Because we all fall short of the glory of God, we need help. Christ IS that help. He sees us for who we really are, as my Daddy would say "warts and all" and loves us enough to help us correct the flaws, to mend the broken places, and to make smooth that which is rough, uneven and unlevel in our personal conduct so that we can be as He is by His virtue, His merits, His mercy, His grace, and His love.
Still a work in progress, I forge on trying to discover who I am supposed to become...
Funny is the joke of the little fellow upon returning from Sunday School class who bragged about his humility in contrast with his fellows, but not so funny is the reminder that we are not quite living up to what we thought we were in our mind's eye.
Having a refresher and a gut check in our own personal level of humility is never an exciting process, but it IS a necessary one for those who are seeking to be able to qualify through Christ for exaltation and eternal life in God's presence.
We seldom see ourselves as being the "unkind one", the "rude one", the one "who needs a lesson on good manners", but truth be told, there are times that is the exact truth of it all.
Because we all fall short of the glory of God, we need help. Christ IS that help. He sees us for who we really are, as my Daddy would say "warts and all" and loves us enough to help us correct the flaws, to mend the broken places, and to make smooth that which is rough, uneven and unlevel in our personal conduct so that we can be as He is by His virtue, His merits, His mercy, His grace, and His love.
Still a work in progress, I forge on trying to discover who I am supposed to become...
September 17, 2017
Growing through life
Today is that day...
Today I am thankful for Almighty God's greatest gift - that of His Son Jesus Christ and the Atonement fearfully and wonderfully wrought in my behalf.
I am thankful for the life God has granted unto me, for each tick of my mortal life's clock and all the experiences that are intended for my good, my profit and learning and for those that even drag me through the valley of the shadow of death and grant me a particle of understanding of what Christ suffered for my rescue from sin.
I am thankful beyond measure for my husband, Rick. He is ever willing, ever loving and ever present in all that I do. I hope I will never be found bringing him harm, shame or anguish. He is my best friend in every measure that is eternal.
My family as it grows continues to prove an eternally growing blessing! How thankful I am for the two sons and sweet daughter that God has given and from them the three grandchildren we have at this point. I do not know what their "number" will become, nor does it matter as if I were counting beans. I only know their potential of growth is beyond all human equation and for that I am truly and humbly thankful.
We have sweet Jared as a reminder that God's timing and man's timing are not reckoned in the same fashion nor to the same purpose. He is delighted by little things: a familiar tune that makes him smile, the movies that he enjoys and the outings that offer him a broader view of the world beyond the four walls of our home which keep us secure.
Nathan, the first grandchild of our family on either side, is a rambunctious and growing toddler of 3.5 years old. Moving from being a toddler and into being a young boy, he is a natural mimic of what he sees and recalls. Fascinated with tools and doing things, Nathan loves to climb and explore and see the world through the eyes of a little boy who knows no boundaries and learns experientially.
Nathan and the crash cymbals.
Aaron, our second grandson, is a methodical, patient 2.5 year old who sees the world around him and ventures to learn of it in careful steps. He watches and checks for the reactions of those around him before treading out on his own. He is a thinker, this one! Very tender in his expressions, he is learning to share his thoughts and feelings now with words.
Aaron and his chalk.
Our sweet Alaina was born on January 5, 2017. At 8.5 months old, she is eagerly trying to follow her big brothers around and precociously standing, testing out her little legs for walking and climbing. Wherever they are, Alaina wants to at least see what they are doing before choosing her path of play. She is to this point a very patient little one who seemingly glides through the verities of having big brothers who are themselves learning to deal with the world around them, which learning is sometimes loud, sometimes funny and sometimes filled with tears for all.
Alaina trying out the kitchen.
Thomas and Tianna are lovebirds trying to work their way through life the best way they possibly can. They are affectionate, tender, and kind toward one another in a way that is both deferential and inspiring as to how to place the needs of one another ahead of their own.
The Merrill Family - Original Edition and Second Generation
The Three Musketeers
May 31, 2017
I May Have Exaggerated My Life
Our world moves pretty fast from the moment we leave the safety of the family
cocoon and enter the world where everyone is in competition to become better,
higher, faster, farther and more.
Now surely some of this is necessary to our growth and
development for in our personal desire to grow, we need the impetus to get off
our backsides and actual DO something. Otherwise, we will simply sit and rot.
But when we think about our life, the events that are of substance and style versus those that are just what we wished we might have done, sometimes we blur those lines and take the wishes and make them a memory that never had substance to back the dream.
Lying, prevaricating, selective memory, gray area, define what is is... it doesn’t matter the terms we apply to it, when truth is only a tiny part of the story, then the story is a lie.
We tell tales small and tall, we speak to others seeing ourselves as big as we wish we were, and hope that most folks can see the fun in our tales for just what it is – fun. But sometimes, they can’t.
And that is when the harm happens. They honestly deeply believe what we have said. They want to believe we did great things and look up to us for the stories we’ve shared.
But before almighty God, they didn’t happen in the way we told them.
So then what?
If we are politicians, we say “I misspoke” and send out a weak mea culpa on social media and all is forgiven and forgotten unless it is an election year and it can be used in some way to wound and destroy.
But if we are to be Children of God, truly honesty and deeply sincere Children of God, we can’t live like politicians choose to live.
We who desire to be called by the Good Shepherd by our names must be worthy of being part of the flock.
But when we think about our life, the events that are of substance and style versus those that are just what we wished we might have done, sometimes we blur those lines and take the wishes and make them a memory that never had substance to back the dream.
Lying, prevaricating, selective memory, gray area, define what is is... it doesn’t matter the terms we apply to it, when truth is only a tiny part of the story, then the story is a lie.
We tell tales small and tall, we speak to others seeing ourselves as big as we wish we were, and hope that most folks can see the fun in our tales for just what it is – fun. But sometimes, they can’t.
And that is when the harm happens. They honestly deeply believe what we have said. They want to believe we did great things and look up to us for the stories we’ve shared.
But before almighty God, they didn’t happen in the way we told them.
So then what?
If we are politicians, we say “I misspoke” and send out a weak mea culpa on social media and all is forgiven and forgotten unless it is an election year and it can be used in some way to wound and destroy.
But if we are to be Children of God, truly honesty and deeply sincere Children of God, we can’t live like politicians choose to live.
We who desire to be called by the Good Shepherd by our names must be worthy of being part of the flock.
So today, I confess, I may have exaggerated my life. I may
have indeed wanted to appear better than I am, to accentuate both what I did in
reality do and what I deeply wish I’d done instead of allowing everyone to see
me for who I truly am.
Broken, mortal, flawed and in need of love and friendship anyway.
Because I know I am not alone, I also reach out to those who have likewise shared the tall tales and the worn stories of both truth and truth mingled with a healthy dose of fiction.
We can be honest enough to say that we might have taken liberties with reality in order to seem like more than we are in the mirror by ourselves.
We can be truthful enough to say that we have seen both our strengths and weaknesses in full measure and try our best to live up to who we are – and more importantly, whom we are not.
So today, I confess, I may have exaggerated my life. I’m not larger than life. I’m barely life-sized. And I hope that will be enough to get along with for now.
Broken, mortal, flawed and in need of love and friendship anyway.
Because I know I am not alone, I also reach out to those who have likewise shared the tall tales and the worn stories of both truth and truth mingled with a healthy dose of fiction.
We can be honest enough to say that we might have taken liberties with reality in order to seem like more than we are in the mirror by ourselves.
We can be truthful enough to say that we have seen both our strengths and weaknesses in full measure and try our best to live up to who we are – and more importantly, whom we are not.
So today, I confess, I may have exaggerated my life. I’m not larger than life. I’m barely life-sized. And I hope that will be enough to get along with for now.
October 22, 2016
Time Out For Women
Having someone who is your best friend is a rare commodity. I am blessed with two, other than immediate siblings, who I swear are sisters from another mother.
They are both incredible women in their own right, but their separate life experiences have taught me much.
I had the extreme blessing of being able to attend "Time Out For Women", which is a spiritual retreat of sorts that is hosted by the fine people at Deseret Book Company. This year, they selected the Birmingham area for the event.
Filled with music from David Archuleta and Calee Reed, chock full of wisdom and inspiration from the words of Eric Huntsman, Laurel C. Day, Elaine Dalton, Wendy Ulrich, Lisa Clark and Brad Wilcox, the event is an opportunity to step away from the day to day and enjoy the break in routine and fill up the personal tank that so often is drained to the bottom with more demands than a single person can reasonably be expected to adequately fill.
It's also a time to laugh, to cry, to ponder, and to be refreshed. Plus we can shop, we can sing along, we can make notes and feel a sense of strengthening that isn't just a Sunday-go-to-meeting kind of help.
A few things stuck out in my mind as I was listening to the speakers and music.
One, God IS mindful even when we don't see His hands moving in our lives. We were instead reminded to just look for His fingerprints in those times.
Two, there is a connection that binds earth and heaven through music. Our souls can be reached by the strains of heavenly music given to those on earth in a way seldom possible through any other means. It is a divine gift and a spiritual portal.
Three, being broken doesn't equate to being useless or forgotten. That's a world view that doesn't match God's view.
Calee Reed said "God maybe views brokenness as a good thing, a useful thing. If we trust God enough to give Him those broken pieces, He will make of them something beautiful".
I really like that. Being a bullheaded person, the willingness to accept the help Father so freely offers seems a lot like eating my spinach because it's good for me or making sure I brush and floss after every meal. Sure, I do it because it's good for me, but sometimes my heart is so broken by life that I forget the whole purpose of giving Him the offering of my broken heart. It's not about what a mess I am, it's about what a skillful and loving Artisan God is! He sees the brokenness. He understands. He loves me! And He, through Jesus Christ's Atonement, can bring those shattered remnants and fragmented shards of what my life has become and through His anointing make them into an ornate and wondrous thing that is still useful, still purposeful and still worthy in His kingdom.
Learning that broken pieces are still useful when we willingly offer them means no one is going to waste who puts their faith and trust in the hands of the Master Craftsman.
I also learned how very thankful I am for my life. Not just the photo ready parts but the rough places that remind me to be on my knees in gratitude for the smooth places. Thankful for the blessing of being able to be educated despite me being a female. Thankful for being able to read, to write and to have the technology to do for myself, my family and the broader world around me. Thankful to have the blessings of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and the friendships of members near and far.
Mostly, I'm thankful that my best friend Sherri sacrificed time, money and herself to come and spend the extended weekend with me and catch up on life.
It reminded me that there are blessings of every stripe and having friends in the gospel and for such a long stretch of time is truly a pearl of great price.
They are both incredible women in their own right, but their separate life experiences have taught me much.
I had the extreme blessing of being able to attend "Time Out For Women", which is a spiritual retreat of sorts that is hosted by the fine people at Deseret Book Company. This year, they selected the Birmingham area for the event.
Filled with music from David Archuleta and Calee Reed, chock full of wisdom and inspiration from the words of Eric Huntsman, Laurel C. Day, Elaine Dalton, Wendy Ulrich, Lisa Clark and Brad Wilcox, the event is an opportunity to step away from the day to day and enjoy the break in routine and fill up the personal tank that so often is drained to the bottom with more demands than a single person can reasonably be expected to adequately fill.
It's also a time to laugh, to cry, to ponder, and to be refreshed. Plus we can shop, we can sing along, we can make notes and feel a sense of strengthening that isn't just a Sunday-go-to-meeting kind of help.
A few things stuck out in my mind as I was listening to the speakers and music.
One, God IS mindful even when we don't see His hands moving in our lives. We were instead reminded to just look for His fingerprints in those times.
Two, there is a connection that binds earth and heaven through music. Our souls can be reached by the strains of heavenly music given to those on earth in a way seldom possible through any other means. It is a divine gift and a spiritual portal.
Three, being broken doesn't equate to being useless or forgotten. That's a world view that doesn't match God's view.
Calee Reed said "God maybe views brokenness as a good thing, a useful thing. If we trust God enough to give Him those broken pieces, He will make of them something beautiful".
I really like that. Being a bullheaded person, the willingness to accept the help Father so freely offers seems a lot like eating my spinach because it's good for me or making sure I brush and floss after every meal. Sure, I do it because it's good for me, but sometimes my heart is so broken by life that I forget the whole purpose of giving Him the offering of my broken heart. It's not about what a mess I am, it's about what a skillful and loving Artisan God is! He sees the brokenness. He understands. He loves me! And He, through Jesus Christ's Atonement, can bring those shattered remnants and fragmented shards of what my life has become and through His anointing make them into an ornate and wondrous thing that is still useful, still purposeful and still worthy in His kingdom.
Learning that broken pieces are still useful when we willingly offer them means no one is going to waste who puts their faith and trust in the hands of the Master Craftsman.
I also learned how very thankful I am for my life. Not just the photo ready parts but the rough places that remind me to be on my knees in gratitude for the smooth places. Thankful for the blessing of being able to be educated despite me being a female. Thankful for being able to read, to write and to have the technology to do for myself, my family and the broader world around me. Thankful to have the blessings of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and the friendships of members near and far.
Mostly, I'm thankful that my best friend Sherri sacrificed time, money and herself to come and spend the extended weekend with me and catch up on life.
It reminded me that there are blessings of every stripe and having friends in the gospel and for such a long stretch of time is truly a pearl of great price.
August 24, 2016
Comics and life
Many times, when I'm trying to sort out facets of my life, I have found a comic strip or two that fits the bill in a hilarious "that's totally me!" sort of way. Case in point today comes from "The Barn" by Ralph Hagen. It's one of my favorite comics anyway because I like cows, I like sheep, I like frogs and I like barns.
Other times, my funny bone is tickled by a comic that is pointed in a slightly different direction. This particular comic made me snort milk out of my nose so I saved it in my file. I'm not sure if that is a revealed character weakness or just additional humor for you to know that bit of trivial information, but there you go. Scott Hilburn came up with this little gem:
There are also times where the political world grabs my attention and I have saved a few choice comics from that three ring circus to remind me that no one in governmental power is really sane. I used to collect print comic strips and paste them into a scrapbook but went digital years ago because I ran out of glue. Bada boom ching!
Either way you care to frame it up, my sense of humor might well be the best consideration for an epitaph when my time comes.
Either way you care to frame it up, my sense of humor might well be the best consideration for an epitaph when my time comes.
Not like I'm standing on a greasy black banana peel next to an open crater or anything... just saying my personal tastes in comedy might tell about me more effectively than a dry "perfection" eulogy.
Anyway, make time to laugh today. It's important because laughter keeps us young and it's the best sound in the world!
Anyway, make time to laugh today. It's important because laughter keeps us young and it's the best sound in the world!
June 3, 2016
Thorns amongst the roses
Of late, I have been noticing more of the briar patches of life and the thorns that cause so much hurt in tender places.
Recently, I had a splinter or thorn in my foot. Unsure of what it was and pretty much not caring what was causing the pain, I was focused solely upon my foot's sole and the object of my suffering and how expeditiously I could remove it from further offending my person.
Rather in a contorted fashion, I hauled my foot up and twisted myself into a pretzel like position to more fully view the wounded area and determine the best way to get the painful alien from its uncomfortable locale.
As a disclaimer, I am not a limber as I once was. The joints are more prone to creaking and cracking than in previous days. So getting arranged to handle the situation required both patience and some pain. So much so that I temporarily forget about the pain in the sole of my foot.
Through various objects and some toenail clippers, I was able to open up a passage, and then, with tweezers grasp and remove the sharp little devil tormenting me. Only after application of soap and water and peroxide did I allow my body to unfold from the closed jackknife position I had assumed to treat the wound.
Still not sure where or how I managed to pick up the item that caused the discomfort. But since I walk around barefooted quite a bit, the risk is always present that there will come another day that my carcasses is perforated and punctured by another thorn in the flesh.
Contrasting this with spiritual things in my mind, I pictured the lesson of "Putting on the Whole Armour of God" that I've heard since infancy. Each carefully mentioned piece of the armour has a purpose and a duty to perform to prevent harm from coming to the wearer. Careless or inappropriate application of that armour doesn't necessarily prevent harm and can actually cause pain as it isn't affixed properly to protect the wearer.
David refused the armour of King Saul because it had not been made to suit his person and would actually shackle him in the battle yet to come with his personal Goliath.
Like our battles against thorns in our flesh, or our personal Goliath(s) in our respective lives, we must be armoured up or else we can be pierced by things both great and small.
Sometimes, the nick or wound happens in an instant and seems quite insignificant in comparison to great gaping holes. A tiny cut and a few droplets of blood don't appear to be that big a deal in the battle we face.
But each little opening allows the blood to flow drop by drop, weakening us and our resolve to continue in the battles fray. Much as it is dangerous, it can also become deadly as the tactic of "death by a thousand cuts" is one of Satan's favored ways to give us thorns in the flesh that can cause great harm without the interposition of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
The thorns may well have to be dealt with throughout a lifetime, but without the Savior's divine love, mercy and grace spent in our behalf, we cannot manage to win the battle alone.
We gather thorns in life. We cannot appreciate the roses or berries of life absent those thorns. They are small but indispensable moment of instruction and honest self-assessment. Is the thorn because we acted in haste and brought harm to our person, body and soul? Or is the thorn simply part of the refiner's fire that is the mortal crucible of enduring to the end?
Some answers may not even come in this life regardless of faithful prayers and righteous living. This life is about both knowledge AND faith. We don't know everything and in fact, as the Apostle Paul, may have to continue acting in faith alone waiting on the hand of the Lord for our answers which may or may not be forthcoming.
So we press forward in faith not knowing how to do it alone.
We were NEVER meant to know everything and to self-atone.
We were meant to have the Savior and to get into harness with Him so that we gain all of his positive and loving attributes to lend strength to our own positive strengths and loving attributes, talents and native God-given abilities.
We are joined through covenant and can be made more than just the bearer of thorns in the flesh, but instead, someone seeking help to remove the thorns either in this life or in the next.
It is through Christ that our eyes are lifted beyond the thorns to behold and to learn to love the Rose of Sharon, the One who bore our pains, who endured the shame, the suffering and the loneliness of life for us and with us.
Recently, I had a splinter or thorn in my foot. Unsure of what it was and pretty much not caring what was causing the pain, I was focused solely upon my foot's sole and the object of my suffering and how expeditiously I could remove it from further offending my person.
Rather in a contorted fashion, I hauled my foot up and twisted myself into a pretzel like position to more fully view the wounded area and determine the best way to get the painful alien from its uncomfortable locale.
As a disclaimer, I am not a limber as I once was. The joints are more prone to creaking and cracking than in previous days. So getting arranged to handle the situation required both patience and some pain. So much so that I temporarily forget about the pain in the sole of my foot.
Through various objects and some toenail clippers, I was able to open up a passage, and then, with tweezers grasp and remove the sharp little devil tormenting me. Only after application of soap and water and peroxide did I allow my body to unfold from the closed jackknife position I had assumed to treat the wound.
Still not sure where or how I managed to pick up the item that caused the discomfort. But since I walk around barefooted quite a bit, the risk is always present that there will come another day that my carcasses is perforated and punctured by another thorn in the flesh.
Contrasting this with spiritual things in my mind, I pictured the lesson of "Putting on the Whole Armour of God" that I've heard since infancy. Each carefully mentioned piece of the armour has a purpose and a duty to perform to prevent harm from coming to the wearer. Careless or inappropriate application of that armour doesn't necessarily prevent harm and can actually cause pain as it isn't affixed properly to protect the wearer.
David refused the armour of King Saul because it had not been made to suit his person and would actually shackle him in the battle yet to come with his personal Goliath.
Like our battles against thorns in our flesh, or our personal Goliath(s) in our respective lives, we must be armoured up or else we can be pierced by things both great and small.
Sometimes, the nick or wound happens in an instant and seems quite insignificant in comparison to great gaping holes. A tiny cut and a few droplets of blood don't appear to be that big a deal in the battle we face.
But each little opening allows the blood to flow drop by drop, weakening us and our resolve to continue in the battles fray. Much as it is dangerous, it can also become deadly as the tactic of "death by a thousand cuts" is one of Satan's favored ways to give us thorns in the flesh that can cause great harm without the interposition of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
The thorns may well have to be dealt with throughout a lifetime, but without the Savior's divine love, mercy and grace spent in our behalf, we cannot manage to win the battle alone.
We gather thorns in life. We cannot appreciate the roses or berries of life absent those thorns. They are small but indispensable moment of instruction and honest self-assessment. Is the thorn because we acted in haste and brought harm to our person, body and soul? Or is the thorn simply part of the refiner's fire that is the mortal crucible of enduring to the end?
Some answers may not even come in this life regardless of faithful prayers and righteous living. This life is about both knowledge AND faith. We don't know everything and in fact, as the Apostle Paul, may have to continue acting in faith alone waiting on the hand of the Lord for our answers which may or may not be forthcoming.
So we press forward in faith not knowing how to do it alone.
We were NEVER meant to know everything and to self-atone.
We were meant to have the Savior and to get into harness with Him so that we gain all of his positive and loving attributes to lend strength to our own positive strengths and loving attributes, talents and native God-given abilities.
We are joined through covenant and can be made more than just the bearer of thorns in the flesh, but instead, someone seeking help to remove the thorns either in this life or in the next.
It is through Christ that our eyes are lifted beyond the thorns to behold and to learn to love the Rose of Sharon, the One who bore our pains, who endured the shame, the suffering and the loneliness of life for us and with us.
May 11, 2016
A Round of Bonus Aerobics
Today, we awoke to 69 degrees, sunny skies and the opportunity to get outside for our exercise. Jared, of course, is the coxswain to my oarsman duties of rowing his ship of state wherever we go. Punctuating the air with his encouragement, yelling, and even helping grunt as I push uphill on our more challenging route, he makes a fine coach. Well, unless he is laughing at my wheezing, in which case he's just being a stinker.
We got onto the back part of the route with the steepest hill and I managed to summit the crest of the hill and had to take a bit of a breather for a drink from my water bottle, plus my phone was ringing. Thomas called in since he's back on the road today so we chatted awhile as I pushed and pulled and in all other ways played my role as a modern day pioneer with Jared in the handcart.
It was so nice to hear the birds, see them flitting around, watch the squirrels romp all over the yards and in the tree limbs! So nice to have pretty weather! Finally arriving back at the house, I realized I needed to make a pit stop in the room of requirement - and do so post haste.
I just have to tell you, being covered head to toe in stinky, humid, nasty sweat makes that all important pit stop a wee bit of a challenge. The "wee" pun not intended.
As a disclaimer, I am not yet done with today's planned exercises, so I wasn't intending to hit the showers quite yet, so the sweat soaked body and sweat soaked clothing was gonna be interesting. Have you ever tried to remove and then put back on the soaking wet skivvies and gym clothes that still will be pressed into service for the remainder of your exercise venture? Think wet swimsuit but more of the fabric to hassle with while performing unheard of yoga moves that even the most ardent yoga master would have trouble bringing in for a landing.
I am reasonably sure that the gyrations and jerking and twisting counted as some kind of Pilates inspired, yoga pose filled, demonic routine that only the sweaty can truly appreciate. At one point in the bonus round, I was attempting to put the waistband of the undies where they truly belong and realized that approximately half of said undies was firmly tucked into the fold below one butt cheek and refusing strenuously to budge from their comfortable, warm, and moist resting place.
The other side which I had gleefully and with extreme prejudice jerked up into the correct location now has a slight tear at the stitching in the elastic waistband where my apparent strong arm tactics had rendered them unable to withstand the muscled might of a half nekkid woman attempting to clothe herself from the prying eyes and laughing throats of my son Jared and the greater world at large, which in this case would be the construction workers who entertain themselves by looking through my windows. No one needs to see this... Trust me!
FINALLY... After a full round of tugging, pulling, rotating, contortion filled movement, I emerged sweatier but victorious in the battle of the bathroom! I am absolutely sure this should qualify as a gold medal event in the Olympic games.
I have to say though that sometimes it's best to exercise alone at home because in a gym bathroom making all of those kinds of noises, slamming around with motions and then finally the shouted exultations of "at last, success!" would lead people to consider my mental status and prompt them to call the very nice and soothing people in the white coats who offer a fitting for a new jacket with extra long sleeves. "Hey," I gesture ever so politely, "It's not my color, peeps, so I think I'll pass."
So far, Jared has resisted the temptation to call out for the National Guard to save him from his crazy Momma, but the day is yet young.
God bless all those who attempt to improve their health and may their "Bonus round of aerobics" be as thrilling and fulfilling as mine was!
We got onto the back part of the route with the steepest hill and I managed to summit the crest of the hill and had to take a bit of a breather for a drink from my water bottle, plus my phone was ringing. Thomas called in since he's back on the road today so we chatted awhile as I pushed and pulled and in all other ways played my role as a modern day pioneer with Jared in the handcart.
It was so nice to hear the birds, see them flitting around, watch the squirrels romp all over the yards and in the tree limbs! So nice to have pretty weather! Finally arriving back at the house, I realized I needed to make a pit stop in the room of requirement - and do so post haste.
I just have to tell you, being covered head to toe in stinky, humid, nasty sweat makes that all important pit stop a wee bit of a challenge. The "wee" pun not intended.
As a disclaimer, I am not yet done with today's planned exercises, so I wasn't intending to hit the showers quite yet, so the sweat soaked body and sweat soaked clothing was gonna be interesting. Have you ever tried to remove and then put back on the soaking wet skivvies and gym clothes that still will be pressed into service for the remainder of your exercise venture? Think wet swimsuit but more of the fabric to hassle with while performing unheard of yoga moves that even the most ardent yoga master would have trouble bringing in for a landing.
I am reasonably sure that the gyrations and jerking and twisting counted as some kind of Pilates inspired, yoga pose filled, demonic routine that only the sweaty can truly appreciate. At one point in the bonus round, I was attempting to put the waistband of the undies where they truly belong and realized that approximately half of said undies was firmly tucked into the fold below one butt cheek and refusing strenuously to budge from their comfortable, warm, and moist resting place.
The other side which I had gleefully and with extreme prejudice jerked up into the correct location now has a slight tear at the stitching in the elastic waistband where my apparent strong arm tactics had rendered them unable to withstand the muscled might of a half nekkid woman attempting to clothe herself from the prying eyes and laughing throats of my son Jared and the greater world at large, which in this case would be the construction workers who entertain themselves by looking through my windows. No one needs to see this... Trust me!
FINALLY... After a full round of tugging, pulling, rotating, contortion filled movement, I emerged sweatier but victorious in the battle of the bathroom! I am absolutely sure this should qualify as a gold medal event in the Olympic games.
I have to say though that sometimes it's best to exercise alone at home because in a gym bathroom making all of those kinds of noises, slamming around with motions and then finally the shouted exultations of "at last, success!" would lead people to consider my mental status and prompt them to call the very nice and soothing people in the white coats who offer a fitting for a new jacket with extra long sleeves. "Hey," I gesture ever so politely, "It's not my color, peeps, so I think I'll pass."
So far, Jared has resisted the temptation to call out for the National Guard to save him from his crazy Momma, but the day is yet young.
God bless all those who attempt to improve their health and may their "Bonus round of aerobics" be as thrilling and fulfilling as mine was!
March 28, 2016
Breaker, Breaker
My son Thomas drives a big rig. He trained at school and tested to receive licensure for operating a semi tractor truck and trailer over the roadways of America.
It's not for the faint of heart, nor is it for people who are unable to direct the placement of a 53' box into spaces that require navigation and negotiation around and through narrow streets, blind corners and tight spots which use every bit of his training to achieve safely.
Often, considerable thought is spent about the people who drive the big rigs. When I was a child and into my young teens, our neighbor's sons were all truckers. They'd bring their trucks to the street in front of our house and allowed us to climb inside and examine it in detail. They'd show us about the CB radio, the air horns, the brakes and the sleeper cab so that we could see what a little part of their world was like.
I don't think people realize just how much our lives depend upon people like my son. You cannot name a single business that survives without the use of a big rig truck. It isn't possible.
The seed farmers use is brought to places for sales by a big rig truck. The bread on the store shelves is brought by a truck. The underwear on your butt is brought by a truck. The medicine you take or the essential oils you rub on your head is brought by a truck.
The nation's heartbeat is measured by the trucks going to and fro carrying the lifeblood of commerce.
During the 1970's, there were trucking strikes when convoys of trucks would slow down traffic and simply stop rolling in protest of high gasoline prices and low wages for the long hours they worked keeping everyone clothed and fed.
I wondered at the problem which I couldn't fully comprehend and listened to adults both praise and demonize the action.
Give some thought to those men and women behind the wheel. They are sons and daughters, husbands and wives, fathers and mothers and truckers. They are often away from the people they love the most so that strangers can go to their local store and get what they need and want without a second thought.
It's not for the faint of heart, nor is it for people who are unable to direct the placement of a 53' box into spaces that require navigation and negotiation around and through narrow streets, blind corners and tight spots which use every bit of his training to achieve safely.
Often, considerable thought is spent about the people who drive the big rigs. When I was a child and into my young teens, our neighbor's sons were all truckers. They'd bring their trucks to the street in front of our house and allowed us to climb inside and examine it in detail. They'd show us about the CB radio, the air horns, the brakes and the sleeper cab so that we could see what a little part of their world was like.
I don't think people realize just how much our lives depend upon people like my son. You cannot name a single business that survives without the use of a big rig truck. It isn't possible.
The seed farmers use is brought to places for sales by a big rig truck. The bread on the store shelves is brought by a truck. The underwear on your butt is brought by a truck. The medicine you take or the essential oils you rub on your head is brought by a truck.
The nation's heartbeat is measured by the trucks going to and fro carrying the lifeblood of commerce.
During the 1970's, there were trucking strikes when convoys of trucks would slow down traffic and simply stop rolling in protest of high gasoline prices and low wages for the long hours they worked keeping everyone clothed and fed.
I wondered at the problem which I couldn't fully comprehend and listened to adults both praise and demonize the action.
March 11, 2016
Sissies need not apply
I live pretty close to a couple of cemeteries. Often, Jared and I find ourselves strolling through the one closest to us as part of our outdoor adventures simply because there is virtually no traffic unless a funeral is progress in which case we go the other way out of respect for those who are bidding a temporary goodbye to a loved one.
Another reason besides traffic considerations for going through the cemetery is to read the markers. Some are quite brief and others have a great deal of sentiment. A recent addition shows the deceased person's love of the Chicago Bulls basketball team with a marble basketball on the marker. Most impressive.
But the main reason I like to go through there is to keep a connection to those persons who were once living, breathing, vital beings who have now transitioned to the other side.
I do genealogy not just for my family members, although they ARE first, but also for those who are not immediate family. I say that because we are ALL family. God is our Father and no matter our address or station in life, no matter the earthly wrappings of our outward appearance, we are all alike unto God.
We are His children.
This life is kind of the place to examine those relationships both in the family into which you have been born in mortal life and the wider family to which we are all bound by the cords of divine lineage.
The way we treat each other here is NOT an extension of the love we had in our premortal realm. There, we knew who we were and who everyone else is to us. But then, we come here to this earth and a veil of forgetfulness is placed upon us so that this learning experience can be an honest effort without the Cliff Notes of the preexistence.
Life is hard. Sometimes by our own choices and sometimes by the choices of others it is made hard. Sometimes it is just hard because it is. Circumstances of mortal life will not always be easy, pleasant or perfect. The test is to see how we will handle that circumstance regardless of the method of delivery.
Will we be spiritually strong or will we throw away those feelings because they are not politically popular in the corruption of the world under which we dwell?
Frankly, sissies need not apply.
This life is hard. And it is, according to John Wayne, harder if you are stupid. By that he meant that it is made harder by choosing stupid but easy stuff over choosing the difficult but right things to do. There was a line from a Star Trek movie that said "Let us redefine progress to mean that just because we can do a thing it does not necessarily follow that we must do that thing". When we learn that our spiritual progress means putting aside something even though we have the ability to do it because of the harm that may well come from making that choice to go ahead, we are learning to grow beyond being sissies for whom the world must pamper and coddle and cajole into being the steadfast sons and daughters of God that He can use to become coequals in the great process of doing His work according to His plan.
I'm sure that will not be a popular thought process for people who are hoping they can remain gospel weaklings and still be acceptable and accepted by God. The concept that the reward precedes the work has become pretty consuming in our world and it is producing people who are pretty useless.
It isn't that there isn't a spark of the divine within them, but rather that they are not recognizing or applying that divine gift within themselves to become more than infants in their progression. We cannot remain helpless and unfocused in our efforts to grow and mature into the trusted and useful tools in the hands of the Master.
To do so is to be a perpetual sissy ever fearful, never coming to grips with the purpose for which they have been created.
That doesn't sound very palatable to me.
I'd rather come into the kingdom bruised, scarred, and slightly battered knowing I had worked hard and tried to become something useful with all the gifts God has given and stand before him with the opportunity to hear him say "Well done, thou good and faithful servant" than to hear anything else.
I just hope this sissy can overcome self and learn more of Him before it is everlastingly too late.
Another reason besides traffic considerations for going through the cemetery is to read the markers. Some are quite brief and others have a great deal of sentiment. A recent addition shows the deceased person's love of the Chicago Bulls basketball team with a marble basketball on the marker. Most impressive.
But the main reason I like to go through there is to keep a connection to those persons who were once living, breathing, vital beings who have now transitioned to the other side.
I do genealogy not just for my family members, although they ARE first, but also for those who are not immediate family. I say that because we are ALL family. God is our Father and no matter our address or station in life, no matter the earthly wrappings of our outward appearance, we are all alike unto God.
We are His children.
This life is kind of the place to examine those relationships both in the family into which you have been born in mortal life and the wider family to which we are all bound by the cords of divine lineage.
The way we treat each other here is NOT an extension of the love we had in our premortal realm. There, we knew who we were and who everyone else is to us. But then, we come here to this earth and a veil of forgetfulness is placed upon us so that this learning experience can be an honest effort without the Cliff Notes of the preexistence.
Life is hard. Sometimes by our own choices and sometimes by the choices of others it is made hard. Sometimes it is just hard because it is. Circumstances of mortal life will not always be easy, pleasant or perfect. The test is to see how we will handle that circumstance regardless of the method of delivery.
Will we be spiritually strong or will we throw away those feelings because they are not politically popular in the corruption of the world under which we dwell?
Frankly, sissies need not apply.
This life is hard. And it is, according to John Wayne, harder if you are stupid. By that he meant that it is made harder by choosing stupid but easy stuff over choosing the difficult but right things to do. There was a line from a Star Trek movie that said "Let us redefine progress to mean that just because we can do a thing it does not necessarily follow that we must do that thing". When we learn that our spiritual progress means putting aside something even though we have the ability to do it because of the harm that may well come from making that choice to go ahead, we are learning to grow beyond being sissies for whom the world must pamper and coddle and cajole into being the steadfast sons and daughters of God that He can use to become coequals in the great process of doing His work according to His plan.
I'm sure that will not be a popular thought process for people who are hoping they can remain gospel weaklings and still be acceptable and accepted by God. The concept that the reward precedes the work has become pretty consuming in our world and it is producing people who are pretty useless.
It isn't that there isn't a spark of the divine within them, but rather that they are not recognizing or applying that divine gift within themselves to become more than infants in their progression. We cannot remain helpless and unfocused in our efforts to grow and mature into the trusted and useful tools in the hands of the Master.
To do so is to be a perpetual sissy ever fearful, never coming to grips with the purpose for which they have been created.
That doesn't sound very palatable to me.
I'd rather come into the kingdom bruised, scarred, and slightly battered knowing I had worked hard and tried to become something useful with all the gifts God has given and stand before him with the opportunity to hear him say "Well done, thou good and faithful servant" than to hear anything else.
I just hope this sissy can overcome self and learn more of Him before it is everlastingly too late.
February 16, 2016
I WON! I WON! I WON!*
Yep, the title says it all: I WON! I WON! I WON!*
Note the asterisk at the end?
Well, that is because I won the Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes in the form of a $10 check. It was legit, I deposited it in the bank and smiled as I savored my win.
Why, you may ask?
I figure after all the years of trying that winning ANYTHING is a plus and I didn't have to buy anything to win the ten spot.
Please, no autograph requests after 9 p.m. at night. I need my beauty sleep in order to be at my best for my public appearances all over the county.
I wonder if I should charge a fee for the signing?
Note the asterisk at the end?
Well, that is because I won the Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes in the form of a $10 check. It was legit, I deposited it in the bank and smiled as I savored my win.
Why, you may ask?
I figure after all the years of trying that winning ANYTHING is a plus and I didn't have to buy anything to win the ten spot.
Please, no autograph requests after 9 p.m. at night. I need my beauty sleep in order to be at my best for my public appearances all over the county.
I wonder if I should charge a fee for the signing?
February 11, 2016
Valentine's Day
We are a scant few days away from Valentine's Day 2016.
Those flowers, chocolates, fancy restaurant meals, cards and sentimental moments of marital bliss are all being offered in splendor over the various types of media.
My heart aches for all who do not "feel the love" as others do.
Sometimes the love that is missing is romantic love that takes the breath away and sweeps one off of their feet both metaphorically and literally.
Sometimes what is absent is that feeling of sure belonging in a family where none is present.
Ofttimes, the missing love is simple friendship.
We have immediacy in our ability to communicate, but that doesn't mean we actually have the all important heart to heart connection that breathes life into our being.
We have a multitude of means with which to express our love both quiet and full blown parade of emotional outpouring.
But still there are multiplied millions sitting on the sidelines of the "love-in" that the advertisers of the world would have us to believe is a shared emotion.
Not everything in the heart of a neighbor is joyful. Not everything in our own is either.
Valentine's Day needs to become a day to see to the needs of those who are not in the mainstream of the parade of candy and love in.
Shared service can show people on the fringe that there is more to the fabric of love than the spectacle of romance for the sake of show.
Though there are many traditions old and new that surround the "day of love", the most lasting show of love is the kindness that makes a place for one and all at the table for the Supper of the Lord.
Sometimes, it seems like the invitation to that seating has been lost in the mail.
I know that there are many others who have felt that disconnect from the joy of love.
Divorce, death, separation of time and distance, and the loss of what once was are all ways that the love once held dear shatters into irreparable shards of broken hearts, the symbol of the Valentine expression.
Take some time to ponder over who is lonely, who might feel lost, who is feeling an empty space in their heart at a time where others are showered over with a multitude of gifts.
Those flowers, chocolates, fancy restaurant meals, cards and sentimental moments of marital bliss are all being offered in splendor over the various types of media.
My heart aches for all who do not "feel the love" as others do.
Sometimes the love that is missing is romantic love that takes the breath away and sweeps one off of their feet both metaphorically and literally.
Sometimes what is absent is that feeling of sure belonging in a family where none is present.
Ofttimes, the missing love is simple friendship.
We have immediacy in our ability to communicate, but that doesn't mean we actually have the all important heart to heart connection that breathes life into our being.
We have a multitude of means with which to express our love both quiet and full blown parade of emotional outpouring.
But still there are multiplied millions sitting on the sidelines of the "love-in" that the advertisers of the world would have us to believe is a shared emotion.
Not everything in the heart of a neighbor is joyful. Not everything in our own is either.
Valentine's Day needs to become a day to see to the needs of those who are not in the mainstream of the parade of candy and love in.
Shared service can show people on the fringe that there is more to the fabric of love than the spectacle of romance for the sake of show.
Though there are many traditions old and new that surround the "day of love", the most lasting show of love is the kindness that makes a place for one and all at the table for the Supper of the Lord.
Sometimes, it seems like the invitation to that seating has been lost in the mail.
I know that there are many others who have felt that disconnect from the joy of love.
Divorce, death, separation of time and distance, and the loss of what once was are all ways that the love once held dear shatters into irreparable shards of broken hearts, the symbol of the Valentine expression.
Take some time to ponder over who is lonely, who might feel lost, who is feeling an empty space in their heart at a time where others are showered over with a multitude of gifts.
September 18, 2015
It's been a while
Sitting here this morning after trying to get in some exercise and take care of the bizarre infection and allergic reaction to my arthritis pain patch. The doctor put me on some antibiotics and steroids to drive the infection out, which does seem to be working. The most painful area seems to be centered over my left hip now and is finally coming to the surface which is good.
While I'm not a fan of shoving medicines down my throat willy-nilly, there are times in which I am extremely grateful for the blessing of modern medications that relieve the pain, the itch and the infection from this twist of fate all from trying to make arthritis less of an enemy.
I rode my bike as an attempt to get in some exercise today because I just didn't feel up to pushing the punk around in his chair outside. Jared's pretty good natured about it all and is watching a program on yo-yo's right now. It all brings back memories of the Duncan Glow Imperial yo-yo of my childhood. It's around here in the house somewhere, perhaps in my keepsakes cedar box. It was a thing of wonder, joy and amusement that sometimes was tried out in weapon form. That handy little gift got the yo-yo confiscated until I promised to never bust someone in the butt with it again. Which I was glad to promise because the yo-yo was both fun and an excellent bedside night light.
We are now sitting here, Jared and I, watching Yo Yo Ma, the cellist. The wonderful way which he plays is both beautiful and expressive. I so appreciate the gift of good music and the peace it speaks to my soul to hear the lovely and lyrical notes that fill the air with beauty and happiness. Even when the music is poignant and deep, it is a message that even in the darker times of life, there is a pathway to God through the passionate refrains of good music.
I have ice on my hip and it is helping with the swelling and localized fever over the area. It feels better with a few minutes of ice now and then. Hopefully, we are coming to a climax on this unpleasant diversion from pain patches. I won't be using them again any time soon. Sad really, because before now, they had been most helpful.
But I have to say, if they are going to break me out like a victim of some horrible poxy illness or leprous withery mess, I can live without them happily.
God bless and onward to whatever the day holds!
While I'm not a fan of shoving medicines down my throat willy-nilly, there are times in which I am extremely grateful for the blessing of modern medications that relieve the pain, the itch and the infection from this twist of fate all from trying to make arthritis less of an enemy.
I rode my bike as an attempt to get in some exercise today because I just didn't feel up to pushing the punk around in his chair outside. Jared's pretty good natured about it all and is watching a program on yo-yo's right now. It all brings back memories of the Duncan Glow Imperial yo-yo of my childhood. It's around here in the house somewhere, perhaps in my keepsakes cedar box. It was a thing of wonder, joy and amusement that sometimes was tried out in weapon form. That handy little gift got the yo-yo confiscated until I promised to never bust someone in the butt with it again. Which I was glad to promise because the yo-yo was both fun and an excellent bedside night light.
We are now sitting here, Jared and I, watching Yo Yo Ma, the cellist. The wonderful way which he plays is both beautiful and expressive. I so appreciate the gift of good music and the peace it speaks to my soul to hear the lovely and lyrical notes that fill the air with beauty and happiness. Even when the music is poignant and deep, it is a message that even in the darker times of life, there is a pathway to God through the passionate refrains of good music.
I have ice on my hip and it is helping with the swelling and localized fever over the area. It feels better with a few minutes of ice now and then. Hopefully, we are coming to a climax on this unpleasant diversion from pain patches. I won't be using them again any time soon. Sad really, because before now, they had been most helpful.
But I have to say, if they are going to break me out like a victim of some horrible poxy illness or leprous withery mess, I can live without them happily.
God bless and onward to whatever the day holds!
May 5, 2015
Crumbling Decay
The 9 unelected judges of our land take up the case for what has been abominably called "gay marriage".
There is no such thing.
God has ordained that marriage is between a man and a woman, and in rare circumstances and for His purposes, between a man and several women in order to bring to pass the family of righteousness.
Now these 9 judges, who most assuredly are not acting upon scripture or even on long standing tradition, are altering the fundamental meaning of marriage to suit political convenience as given by the devil himself.
Satan of course is the author of this diabolical and wicked injunction to bow, yield, kneel in the dust to worship the "right" to violate God's laws.
What a misunderstanding of moral agency!
We have been granted a gift that stands in a powerful slot of those gifts granted severally and singularly by Almighty God. We have been given life, we have been provided a Savior from before the foundations of the world, and we have been given the ability to choose our path - whether we will, as a third of our brethren did and walk away from all that God has so lovingly offered to us and follow the pied piper to destruction OR whether we will, at any and all hazards, choose to follow God and Christ.
The issue here isn't that we have choices. The issue is that while people are chanting about "their rights", not one of them is talking about accountability OR consequences for the moral choices or immoral choices that they have made.
That is apparently (to borrow a political phrase) "an inconvenient truth".
Who wants to know that there will be a follow up while we are busy eating, drinking and being merry? That ruins the party to consider the inevitable aftermath that isn't as pleasant or exciting as the host Satan has made it seem to be.
Satan is a miserable and mean and lowly dictator of his realm. Right now, he and those who previously followed him are able to tempt us and offer what appears to be a reasonable and fun path.
We decide - WE decide - not him.
And when we give up the guidelines, rules, laws and commandments of God for what appears to be a lush green pasture Satan cultivates, we do so at our own peril, for he will never tell us the truth about that place. It's not a pasture and he is no good shepherd.
He offers us wilderness and sorrow in place of what could have been ours - safety in the arms of the True Shepherd.
He doesn't know our name. He authors our sins.
Christ knows who we are and offers with blood and scars to redeem us even from the willful choices that have taken us from a pasture of safety and locked us into a thicket of danger, fear and potential death.
Christ brings life eternal and the safety of knowing that He alone has the power to vanquish the wolves of the world. He can vanquish even death.
Yet some would look into the glaring sunlight and declare it to be dark simply because they refuse to repent and come unto Christ.
It's not over yet and there is still yet time to rescue those who are mired in the quicksand of sin. Christ reaches out with secure and strong arms to save.
We just have to be willing to BE saved.
He won't rescue those who refuse Him.
So around us we see crumbling decay in literal circumstances as our world - the very creation of God and Christ - groans and shudders under the burdens of sin. We see the decay in the church that should be Christ's but that alters purpose to serve a different master that isn't so "demanding" and "judgmental". We see the decay crumbling the personal foundation of testimony and truth and replacing them with political correctness and outright lies that feel good for the moment but which bring with the flaxen cords the heavy chains of bondage and damnation.
We still have time to be rescued and gathered. But are we fleeing TOWARD the safety or skipping headlong into danger declaring it to be good and fun and acceptable?
We had stake conference May 2nd and 3rd. One of the speakers reference the incident of a child who had been in the room where she had been ironing clothing. In a split second, the child had pulled the hot iron down and it had fallen in the bend of the child's elbow. But rather than dropping the hot iron that was burning him, the child instead pulled it and held it to him causing extensive damage. Now grown, the man bears the scars of the incident though the healing has taken place.
In a parallel to our own circumstances, the speaker asked if we are repeating that in our own lives meaning are we hanging onto the "hot irons" of sin, destruction and decay? Are we straddling the line skipping from one side to the other rather than choosing that which is Godly so we can move forward into the very presence and Kingdom of God? Or like Lot's wife, are we looking fondly upon the firebrands of sin that we foolishly hold closely and scarring our very soul?
There is only obedience and disobedience despite what the world says. Satan wants us to believe that there isn't right or wrong, just do what feels good.
There is only ONE hope for mankind in a fallen world and that hope comes in and through Jesus Christ. He is the ONLY way. He is THE WAY, the TRUTH, the LIFE and none comes to the Father except through Him.
It isn't always about doing what "feels good". Life is about learning to do what is RIGHT. Even if and especially when that contradicts what the carnal man whispers to do.
The carnal man is locked in the developmental stage of a toddler. God did not intend that we stay in that state. He created a plan and a purpose for each one of us to grow and through our choices to learn about those burning hot irons and He fervently desires that we would learn to choose not to be burned.
Sadly, we all have made willful choices that put us in dangerous circumstances.
But God knew that this would happen so He provided our Savior to bear upon himself through love all the pains, anguish, fear, loneliness, sorrow and sin of mortality so that we could have complete healing and complete fulness of joy through Christ.
In the end, it comes down to whether we are accepting a crumbling decaying ruin of what could have been or whether we are accepting the fulness of renewal and rebuilding into a palace that God has always had in mind.
The choice is yours and so are the consequences. You cannot have one without the other and even Satan knows that. He lies about it, but he knows it.
There is no such thing.
God has ordained that marriage is between a man and a woman, and in rare circumstances and for His purposes, between a man and several women in order to bring to pass the family of righteousness.
Now these 9 judges, who most assuredly are not acting upon scripture or even on long standing tradition, are altering the fundamental meaning of marriage to suit political convenience as given by the devil himself.
Satan of course is the author of this diabolical and wicked injunction to bow, yield, kneel in the dust to worship the "right" to violate God's laws.
What a misunderstanding of moral agency!
We have been granted a gift that stands in a powerful slot of those gifts granted severally and singularly by Almighty God. We have been given life, we have been provided a Savior from before the foundations of the world, and we have been given the ability to choose our path - whether we will, as a third of our brethren did and walk away from all that God has so lovingly offered to us and follow the pied piper to destruction OR whether we will, at any and all hazards, choose to follow God and Christ.
The issue here isn't that we have choices. The issue is that while people are chanting about "their rights", not one of them is talking about accountability OR consequences for the moral choices or immoral choices that they have made.
That is apparently (to borrow a political phrase) "an inconvenient truth".
Who wants to know that there will be a follow up while we are busy eating, drinking and being merry? That ruins the party to consider the inevitable aftermath that isn't as pleasant or exciting as the host Satan has made it seem to be.
Satan is a miserable and mean and lowly dictator of his realm. Right now, he and those who previously followed him are able to tempt us and offer what appears to be a reasonable and fun path.
We decide - WE decide - not him.
And when we give up the guidelines, rules, laws and commandments of God for what appears to be a lush green pasture Satan cultivates, we do so at our own peril, for he will never tell us the truth about that place. It's not a pasture and he is no good shepherd.
He offers us wilderness and sorrow in place of what could have been ours - safety in the arms of the True Shepherd.
He doesn't know our name. He authors our sins.
Christ knows who we are and offers with blood and scars to redeem us even from the willful choices that have taken us from a pasture of safety and locked us into a thicket of danger, fear and potential death.
Christ brings life eternal and the safety of knowing that He alone has the power to vanquish the wolves of the world. He can vanquish even death.
Yet some would look into the glaring sunlight and declare it to be dark simply because they refuse to repent and come unto Christ.
It's not over yet and there is still yet time to rescue those who are mired in the quicksand of sin. Christ reaches out with secure and strong arms to save.
We just have to be willing to BE saved.
He won't rescue those who refuse Him.
So around us we see crumbling decay in literal circumstances as our world - the very creation of God and Christ - groans and shudders under the burdens of sin. We see the decay in the church that should be Christ's but that alters purpose to serve a different master that isn't so "demanding" and "judgmental". We see the decay crumbling the personal foundation of testimony and truth and replacing them with political correctness and outright lies that feel good for the moment but which bring with the flaxen cords the heavy chains of bondage and damnation.
We still have time to be rescued and gathered. But are we fleeing TOWARD the safety or skipping headlong into danger declaring it to be good and fun and acceptable?
We had stake conference May 2nd and 3rd. One of the speakers reference the incident of a child who had been in the room where she had been ironing clothing. In a split second, the child had pulled the hot iron down and it had fallen in the bend of the child's elbow. But rather than dropping the hot iron that was burning him, the child instead pulled it and held it to him causing extensive damage. Now grown, the man bears the scars of the incident though the healing has taken place.
In a parallel to our own circumstances, the speaker asked if we are repeating that in our own lives meaning are we hanging onto the "hot irons" of sin, destruction and decay? Are we straddling the line skipping from one side to the other rather than choosing that which is Godly so we can move forward into the very presence and Kingdom of God? Or like Lot's wife, are we looking fondly upon the firebrands of sin that we foolishly hold closely and scarring our very soul?
There is only obedience and disobedience despite what the world says. Satan wants us to believe that there isn't right or wrong, just do what feels good.
There is only ONE hope for mankind in a fallen world and that hope comes in and through Jesus Christ. He is the ONLY way. He is THE WAY, the TRUTH, the LIFE and none comes to the Father except through Him.
It isn't always about doing what "feels good". Life is about learning to do what is RIGHT. Even if and especially when that contradicts what the carnal man whispers to do.
The carnal man is locked in the developmental stage of a toddler. God did not intend that we stay in that state. He created a plan and a purpose for each one of us to grow and through our choices to learn about those burning hot irons and He fervently desires that we would learn to choose not to be burned.
Sadly, we all have made willful choices that put us in dangerous circumstances.
But God knew that this would happen so He provided our Savior to bear upon himself through love all the pains, anguish, fear, loneliness, sorrow and sin of mortality so that we could have complete healing and complete fulness of joy through Christ.
In the end, it comes down to whether we are accepting a crumbling decaying ruin of what could have been or whether we are accepting the fulness of renewal and rebuilding into a palace that God has always had in mind.
The choice is yours and so are the consequences. You cannot have one without the other and even Satan knows that. He lies about it, but he knows it.
December 16, 2014
And no one saw this because...?
Withholding information like this is just cruel.
So I finished my exercise, got into the shower and got dressed for the day. I sat at my desk and pulled out my little mirror to make sure I looked reasonable.
To my horror, I discovered what could only be termed an ANTLER growing just underneath my chin.
Seriously.
A DANG INCH AND A HALF LONG WAVING ANTLER of hair.
I am absolutely certain that it’s not like NO one saw it….
It’s also not like it was invisible… to anyone but ME apparently.
And I’m reasonably sure that it took more than just overnight to grow and if, in fact, it DID grow overnight into some Rapunzel length magnificence, can we clone that property so the REST of my actual hair can grow that fast?
DANG. Just DANG.
So I finished my exercise, got into the shower and got dressed for the day. I sat at my desk and pulled out my little mirror to make sure I looked reasonable.
To my horror, I discovered what could only be termed an ANTLER growing just underneath my chin.
Seriously.
A DANG INCH AND A HALF LONG WAVING ANTLER of hair.
I am absolutely certain that it’s not like NO one saw it….
It’s also not like it was invisible… to anyone but ME apparently.
And I’m reasonably sure that it took more than just overnight to grow and if, in fact, it DID grow overnight into some Rapunzel length magnificence, can we clone that property so the REST of my actual hair can grow that fast?
DANG. Just DANG.
I yanked that devil hair out by the roots and I’m sure there
was gray matter clinging to it but I don’t even care. Whatever portion of the
brain that was ripped out with that monstrosity will not be missed. Unless it
was the part that made me remember important things for other people since I
basically don’t ever go anywhere in which case then you are on your own. You and the dang hair that no one
loved me enough to inform me about before it took on a life of its own.
I think I need to check my bank balance and credit card statement for hair care and or beard and antler care products.
I think I need to check my bank balance and credit card statement for hair care and or beard and antler care products.
Dang.
November 26, 2014
The Destruction of Society
The Devil must surely be laughing maniacally as he watches us pitifully become puppets to his wickedness and destroy ourselves in the process.
Watching the news over the last few days as rioters destroy property not their own, burn police cars into cinders and take the dreams of small business owners and turn them into nightmares of the most intense variety has been truly heartrending.
That those perpetrating these vile acts do so in the name of "honoring" someone who was involved in a felonious assault only moments before being killed by a police officer in the commission of his duty is sickening.
A grand jury refused to indict and returned a lawful verdict of "no true bill" meaning that the police officer was not guilty of any unlawful conduct.
There are so many opinions and so much hatred swirling around and the people aren't even really sure what happened, so instead of allowing cooler heads to prevail, they have taken it upon themselves to destroy their town.
Why?
When we replace God with idols of clay, allow the decency and respect for one another to be replaced with bitterness, fear and hatred, allow civility to be shunted aside for thuggery, then our nation is losing the moral center of right from wrong and accepting the shallow replacement of situational ethics to become our one true god.
Too many people are willing to equivocate on every single decision. Far too many are allowing the words of reporters, race baiters on every hand and hustlers seeking power to decide for them how they should act.
We have not much distance between us and mere animals when we do so.
There is an old hymn called "Know This That Every Soul Is Free" that talks about the sacred moral agency God has granted to each one of His children.
Verse one states:
Know this, that ev'ry soul is free
Although we are FREE TO CHOOSE, that freedom of choice is limited by the consequences of what we have chosen.
We are free to rob, loot and destroy. But we are not free to feel peace in our heart and home within that environment.
We are free to lie, distort and twist the truth for selfish ends. But we are not free to be trusted by others when our duplicity is discovered.
We are free to morally abdicate responsible and Godly choices. But we are not free to be accepted by those who obey the commandments of God as if our disobedience didn't matter.
God will not strip us of the moral agency to choose. He will never force us. But he cannot bless those who refuse his mercy and his grace.
Verse 2 explains:
He'll call, persuade, direct aright,
In the song, there is one particular phrase that has always touched me deeply even from the time I was just a little child. It is found in the third verse and is a truth that we cannot run from nor deny. The words of the third verse gives clarity to the truth of what our moral agency entails. We have the freedom to choose, but we must marry that freedom with reason in order to be useful creatures capable of rising above the station of an animal.
Freedom and reason make us men;
The last verse of this hymn is also telling as it reminds us that we ALWAYS can choose to change our course. We are endowed by our Creator with power from on high, but we can only employ that power in His service to His praise and our blessing OR to our condemnation and destruction of our ability to perceive and receive His blessings. He cannot go back upon His word. No unclean thing can enter the Kingdom of Heaven.
May we no more our pow'rs abuse,
If we wish to feel that perfect love in our lives, we must live in such a way as to be in receipt of that love. While God loves us always, He cannot and He will not tolerate our sins forever. If we do not seek to improve our life, if we refuse to repent and change and if we become the kind of morally bankrupted individuals we are seeing, we truly have given up a noble divine birthright to accept the mess of pottage offered by lesser souls willing to devolve into mob rule that benefits no one.
Within every culture and society that has failed, there is a sad moral truth. When that society so invested personal gain above all else has reached the tipping point, society cannot hold up under the strain of self seeking power. The wolves no longer howl at the door, they are in the parlor and range about the room ravening and ravaging the helpless, the innocent and yes, even other power seekers who get in the way of the bigger wolf.
There is no loyalty in the power struggle to own it all, destroy it all, take it all and rule it all.
As destructive as the one ring in the immortal Ring Trilogy of J R R Tolkien, the power that is promised to "the one" by Satan is more deadly. He is willing to destroy anyone and anything to grasp at the glory he trampled in his twisted attempt to thwart the Divinely appointed Plan of Salvation.
Those who listen to the subtle whispering of Satan soon learn that subtle becomes quite insistent and he is a taskmaster of unbelievable destructive and manipulative power.
Getting out of his grasp is hard work that requires a level of self-sacrifice that is most unpleasant and uncomfortable for the "ME" generation.
In order to change, it must be change in every facet of life. Not merely saying but doing a complete life alteration.
Dropping destructive habits, changing thought patterns, losing the influence of "friends" who intend harm, leaving behind the wicked life habits that corrupt.
But it can be done!!
Many have walked the path of repentance, receiving forgiveness and feeling the approval of a loving God who can indeed help in every step of the process.
None of those who have so destroyed their communities and defiled themselves are beyond the reach of a loving Heavenly Father and the Atonement of His Beloved Son Jesus Christ.
We need a return to God. We need a return to Christ.
Only then can the world be healed.
Watching the news over the last few days as rioters destroy property not their own, burn police cars into cinders and take the dreams of small business owners and turn them into nightmares of the most intense variety has been truly heartrending.
That those perpetrating these vile acts do so in the name of "honoring" someone who was involved in a felonious assault only moments before being killed by a police officer in the commission of his duty is sickening.
A grand jury refused to indict and returned a lawful verdict of "no true bill" meaning that the police officer was not guilty of any unlawful conduct.
There are so many opinions and so much hatred swirling around and the people aren't even really sure what happened, so instead of allowing cooler heads to prevail, they have taken it upon themselves to destroy their town.
Why?
When we replace God with idols of clay, allow the decency and respect for one another to be replaced with bitterness, fear and hatred, allow civility to be shunted aside for thuggery, then our nation is losing the moral center of right from wrong and accepting the shallow replacement of situational ethics to become our one true god.
Too many people are willing to equivocate on every single decision. Far too many are allowing the words of reporters, race baiters on every hand and hustlers seeking power to decide for them how they should act.
We have not much distance between us and mere animals when we do so.
There is an old hymn called "Know This That Every Soul Is Free" that talks about the sacred moral agency God has granted to each one of His children.
Verse one states:
Know this, that ev'ry soul is free
To choose his life and what he'll be;
For this eternal truth is giv'n:
That God will force no man to heav'n.
Although we are FREE TO CHOOSE, that freedom of choice is limited by the consequences of what we have chosen.
We are free to rob, loot and destroy. But we are not free to feel peace in our heart and home within that environment.
We are free to lie, distort and twist the truth for selfish ends. But we are not free to be trusted by others when our duplicity is discovered.
We are free to morally abdicate responsible and Godly choices. But we are not free to be accepted by those who obey the commandments of God as if our disobedience didn't matter.
God will not strip us of the moral agency to choose. He will never force us. But he cannot bless those who refuse his mercy and his grace.
Verse 2 explains:
He'll call, persuade, direct aright,
And bless with wisdom, love, and light,
In nameless ways be good and kind,
But never force the human mind.
In the song, there is one particular phrase that has always touched me deeply even from the time I was just a little child. It is found in the third verse and is a truth that we cannot run from nor deny. The words of the third verse gives clarity to the truth of what our moral agency entails. We have the freedom to choose, but we must marry that freedom with reason in order to be useful creatures capable of rising above the station of an animal.
Freedom and reason make us men;
Take these away, what are we then?
Mere animals, and just as well
The beasts may think of heav'n or hell.
The last verse of this hymn is also telling as it reminds us that we ALWAYS can choose to change our course. We are endowed by our Creator with power from on high, but we can only employ that power in His service to His praise and our blessing OR to our condemnation and destruction of our ability to perceive and receive His blessings. He cannot go back upon His word. No unclean thing can enter the Kingdom of Heaven.
May we no more our pow'rs abuse,
But ways of truth and goodness choose;
Our God is pleased when we improve
His grace and seek his perfect love.
If we wish to feel that perfect love in our lives, we must live in such a way as to be in receipt of that love. While God loves us always, He cannot and He will not tolerate our sins forever. If we do not seek to improve our life, if we refuse to repent and change and if we become the kind of morally bankrupted individuals we are seeing, we truly have given up a noble divine birthright to accept the mess of pottage offered by lesser souls willing to devolve into mob rule that benefits no one.
Within every culture and society that has failed, there is a sad moral truth. When that society so invested personal gain above all else has reached the tipping point, society cannot hold up under the strain of self seeking power. The wolves no longer howl at the door, they are in the parlor and range about the room ravening and ravaging the helpless, the innocent and yes, even other power seekers who get in the way of the bigger wolf.
There is no loyalty in the power struggle to own it all, destroy it all, take it all and rule it all.
As destructive as the one ring in the immortal Ring Trilogy of J R R Tolkien, the power that is promised to "the one" by Satan is more deadly. He is willing to destroy anyone and anything to grasp at the glory he trampled in his twisted attempt to thwart the Divinely appointed Plan of Salvation.
Those who listen to the subtle whispering of Satan soon learn that subtle becomes quite insistent and he is a taskmaster of unbelievable destructive and manipulative power.
Getting out of his grasp is hard work that requires a level of self-sacrifice that is most unpleasant and uncomfortable for the "ME" generation.
In order to change, it must be change in every facet of life. Not merely saying but doing a complete life alteration.
Dropping destructive habits, changing thought patterns, losing the influence of "friends" who intend harm, leaving behind the wicked life habits that corrupt.
But it can be done!!
Many have walked the path of repentance, receiving forgiveness and feeling the approval of a loving God who can indeed help in every step of the process.
None of those who have so destroyed their communities and defiled themselves are beyond the reach of a loving Heavenly Father and the Atonement of His Beloved Son Jesus Christ.
We need a return to God. We need a return to Christ.
Only then can the world be healed.
November 14, 2014
You Dropped A Bomb On Me
To borrow the title of an old Gap Band song, we all know about the public shaming that comes with dropping a bomb in a public restroom.
No one wants to talk about it, but we know it happens.
Mother Nature can be capricious and fun-loving sufficiently enough to ensure that we who possess the ability to evacuate our bowels can enjoy one of life's little embarrassing moments in a public location without any hope of escape from our "wrongdoing".
Sadly, we know it's coming when the first grinding spasm hits our abdomen and we know that no amount of begging and pleading will halt the action of an intestinal tract done wrong.
It's a tragedy that even Shakespeare couldn't have foreseen.
I know there is at least one company actively marketing their "solution" to your odoriferous exclamations. They claim their product can eliminate (if you will pardon the expression) any of your vapors and unfortunate residue that would leave more proof of your passing... again, sorry for the wording.
The reality is that when we are at home to take care of business, we REALLY take care of business. But on those ill-timed circumstances that compel us to an unfamiliar toilet in public territory when we know for sure all hell is about to break loose ... my deepest apologies but you KNOW that is what happens!
It becomes a matter of "how can I do this and keep even a shred of my dignity intact?"
Sadly, as you exit the stall having violated every single EPA designated Federal Air Quality guideline, the only hope for you is if the entire bathroom is empty. Alas, that pious hope is never realized as each stall is filled and there is line stretching out the door to enjoy, endure and empathize with your gloriously shameful performance art piece gone wrong.
Take heart though. I was once in a store where this snooty woman loudly proclaimed "someone sure made a stinkbomb in this bathroom" and then she was the proverbial elephant in the room with trumpeting noise and effluent eruptions to beat the band. I'm sure a couple of tiles fell off the wall by the time she was done.
The next time it happens to you (and dear hearts and gentle people, there WILL be a next time!), gird your loins, make sure there is no TP stuck to your shoe or trailing out of your panty hose and hold your head high as you exit your stall to wash up and depart.
It IS, in point of fact, the designated restroom mean to refresh yourself and take care of the ever popular call of nature that we all must answer. Drop that bomb. Waste that stall. Gas that room. Then walk out like the lady or gent that you are. After all is said and done, look 'em in the eye and say boldly "it's a fact of life, get over yourself!"
No one wants to talk about it, but we know it happens.
Mother Nature can be capricious and fun-loving sufficiently enough to ensure that we who possess the ability to evacuate our bowels can enjoy one of life's little embarrassing moments in a public location without any hope of escape from our "wrongdoing".
Sadly, we know it's coming when the first grinding spasm hits our abdomen and we know that no amount of begging and pleading will halt the action of an intestinal tract done wrong.
It's a tragedy that even Shakespeare couldn't have foreseen.
I know there is at least one company actively marketing their "solution" to your odoriferous exclamations. They claim their product can eliminate (if you will pardon the expression) any of your vapors and unfortunate residue that would leave more proof of your passing... again, sorry for the wording.
The reality is that when we are at home to take care of business, we REALLY take care of business. But on those ill-timed circumstances that compel us to an unfamiliar toilet in public territory when we know for sure all hell is about to break loose ... my deepest apologies but you KNOW that is what happens!
It becomes a matter of "how can I do this and keep even a shred of my dignity intact?"
Sadly, as you exit the stall having violated every single EPA designated Federal Air Quality guideline, the only hope for you is if the entire bathroom is empty. Alas, that pious hope is never realized as each stall is filled and there is line stretching out the door to enjoy, endure and empathize with your gloriously shameful performance art piece gone wrong.
Take heart though. I was once in a store where this snooty woman loudly proclaimed "someone sure made a stinkbomb in this bathroom" and then she was the proverbial elephant in the room with trumpeting noise and effluent eruptions to beat the band. I'm sure a couple of tiles fell off the wall by the time she was done.
The next time it happens to you (and dear hearts and gentle people, there WILL be a next time!), gird your loins, make sure there is no TP stuck to your shoe or trailing out of your panty hose and hold your head high as you exit your stall to wash up and depart.
It IS, in point of fact, the designated restroom mean to refresh yourself and take care of the ever popular call of nature that we all must answer. Drop that bomb. Waste that stall. Gas that room. Then walk out like the lady or gent that you are. After all is said and done, look 'em in the eye and say boldly "it's a fact of life, get over yourself!"
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