The Lord will raise a standard

Well it’s in all the news. Wikileak, has leaked all the State Departments, secret documents. It’s more like a Wiki-flood.

It has certainly opened up the ‘flood-gates,’ to everything our government did not want anyone to see. My comments were that, they are responsible for their own undoing.

I’m not saying that I believe what Wiki, did was right. But our government has been violating a cardinal rule for a long time. “Lead by example.”

When trust and integrity have been compromised, at the highest level of leadership, it only makes sense, that other’s will follow. When laws are put in place and violated by the very leadership, that has created these laws for accountability, they are placing themselves under a microscope. God has told us, “That when the enemy comes in like a flood, He will raise up a standard, against him.” But He will not, if we don’t look to Him first.

No man is a law unto himself. All authority, must submit to some authority, or it is powerless leadership. It will eventually collapse.

Our founding father’s understood this principle, and it is the very reason, they coined the motto, “In God We Trust.” It wasn’t just a catchphrase. Something to put on a coin. They believed and understood this.

It is in direct correlation to this belief, to which our nation has suffered. When we began to stray from our trust and submission to God, we suffered as a nation. He is the author of all truth and all trust begins with Him.

What has happened now on a large-scale? The government has courted big business and those who have the most, can buy government. This practice  has corrupted the justice system. Giving a free pass to corruption in corporate structures. Bribes and kickbacks, have caused our leaders to turn a blind eye to all that is evil. If there isn’t a law that fits, they will create a new one. 

Such as “The Espionage Act.” If a decision is made to prosecute someone for this, then shouldn’t they also prosecute themselves?

The average citizen, cannot find justice. It is only for sale to the highest bidder. This is why the Lord told us that in the end days, “they shall call evil good, and good, evil.”

If a person seeks to expose this fraud, they are the ones, who will be investigated. So much energy and resources are devoted to keeping the law-abiding quiet, and to allow darkness to proliferate.

God will not allow this to continue. He is showing the foolishness of blind leaders. Those who seek to go their own way, without seeking Him. “The blind leading the blind, and they both fall into a pit.”

We must realize that to lead, we must seek Him, and lead with integrity, or other’s will follow us down that path. Lead with Truth and Justice for ALL!

Now there is a way back. God has told us how to find our way. He is in the business of bringing whole nations back from the brink of destruction. It is always the same and the prophets of old pointed the way. They still outline the same plan; It is in His word, If my people will seek my face, humble themselves and turn from their wicked ways, and pray, then will I hear from heaven and heal their land.

It’s my opinion, that it’s time for us to put our money, where our mouth is!

I’m So Thankful

I am so blessed

I flew in from a trip yesterday. I finally arrived at my home at about 9pm. This is when I began cooking my dinner. I like to prepare everything in advance and I was in bed by about 2am.

Needless to say, I was exhausted.
I began cooking again at 8:30 this morning. I had talked with a friend about making a turkey on the grill and I thought, “Why not?”
I looked up some instructions online and decided to try it out.
I read that, once you’ve grilled a turkey, you won’t go back to the oven.
I can tell you that from the response of the critics, that it is worth the effort.
I always have a friend who I invited. He has no family here, and we love him.
He’s from Senegal and has lived in this country for quite a long time. He always tells me that his mother was asking about me.
He puts everyone else off, until he finds out what our plans are, because he tells his friends, “We are his family.”
I was so tired, and had a difficult time, because of my exhaustion, but my family makes it worth it.
My mother is here this Thanksgiving and I’m reminded of how many times, I’d called her on this day, and she was all alone.
The conversation was always the same. “Mom? Did you do anything today?”
“Oh, no. It’s really quiet in my building.”
“Mom, didn’t you even have a special meal or someone to visit?”
“No, it’s ok. I don’t like to cook a big meal, just for myself.”
I know it’s just that she doesn’t know anyone, who has made her part of their family, and she was way too far, for me to drop in. But still the sadness of her solitude, seemed to creep into my own soul.
This year, there she was. Standing in my kitchen, distracting me constantly,with her chatter. As I was flitting about, I have gotten this down to a science, she’s talking nonstop.
Now my son is up with me to help. He actually did help me this year.
My brother and my mother, refuse to go to bed, when I return home, because I sense, they are excited by my arrival and long to fill me in on all the details of my absence.
When I begin to feel irritation creeping in, I squash it. “My mom, will not be with me forever, and I never know how many dinners, I can make for her,” I think.
At times, I will ask my son for a big hug, and I will tell him, “A mother only gets so many hugs and kisses, and then it’s over. I have to get what I can, while I have the chance.” He always rolls his eyes and laughs.
Now, I did it again. I made way too much food. But I know that I will be packing a ‘care package,’ for my friend, like I always do.
I save all kinds of plastic containers, so that I can send him with enough food to last.
I tell him he needs to gain weight. And he laughs. “You will make me fat!” He tells me.
Now, I sit down, and we thank God for all He’s blessed us with. At one moment, I say, “I’m thankful that this Thanksgiving, I have my mom, with us.”
I look at her and say, “Your turn.”
She says, “I’m thankful that I am sharing this Thanksgiving with believers.”
Wow, that surprised me. My mother never seems this introspective.
We went around the table. Each person giving thanks for something.
My son, of course gave thanks for the food, first. (Always his priority)
My brother was so cute. He thanked God for ‘The Packers,’ in true Wisconsin form!
As I looked around, I remembered a conversation I had with a flight attendant the other day.
I met her when I was commuting on another airline. She asked me, “Are you a believer?” “Yes, I told her.
As we talked, she shared some of her sorrow, after a painful divorce and the loss of her stepchildren’s affection.
I told her about something which the Lord revealed to me, years ago, about my own, stepchildren.
I told her that as the Lord hung on the cross, he said, in his dying breath, “Mother, behold your son.” And to John, “John, behold your mother.”
He was revealing something very powerful in this statement, as the words of a dying man, would seem to be the most important of all.
He was pointing out that, we are not related to each other by our blood, we are related by His blood.”
It is His shed blood on the cross, and our acceptance of this sacrifice, which makes us one family. The eternal family.
She began to cry, as she said, “You have ministered to me, in ways you do not know.”
“Oh, believe me,” I told her, “You’ve ministered to me as well. It is what the Lord told us, “To encourage one another.”
We hugged and exchanged info.
But today, as I look around my table, I am most thankful, for the life, He gave, to make us one!
Happy Thanksgiving!

Farewell Bambi

The story was in the news today.

It seemed odd, since I had just been sharing my own experience with Alfred Shcultz and our chance meeting in a bar.

I lived in Milwaukee and when I was quite young, I would frequent a bar named, The Tracks. Appropriately so. It was smack, dab, next to the railroad tracks. But, it seemed, anybody, who was anyone, would come in.

A cramped little corner of a place. With a barber chair and an upstairs. The upstairs corridor would be lined with people on some evenings. And the place was so small, you could barely turn around.

I had been going there before I turned 18, which was legal age. I remember having my 18th birthday celebration right there. The bouncer, Rich, couldn’t believe it. He looked at me with shock and amusement. “You mean, you’re just now, turning 18?” I know I exhibited, just a little bit of pride,when I said yes, and felt I had gotten away with serious deception all these years. Oh, how I long to press the reverse button.

One evening, I was here at a table with a couple of friends. A man next to us, struck up a conversation with me. He told me his wife had worked at the Playboy Club in Lake Geneva. I shared, that I also went there and interviewed with the Den Mother,just recently. I thought the idea of having to be stuffed into the corset, bad enough, but the mandatory rule of moving to the premises, was a clear deal breaker, for me. My boyfriend, who happened to have been a club member, was deeply disappointed. It seemed, he wanted the job, for me, a lot more than I did. I’m quite sure to him, it was to be his future bragging rights. Well, I was having none of it. And it wasn’t long before I said “No, to that idea, along with that boyfriend.

I was content in Milwaukee. I had all my friends, and my favorite hangouts. So this night, Mr. Schultz, was bragging. But his bragging had a hidden agenda, I’m sure. He next asked me if I was into “weight training.” “Yes, I am. That along with aerobics.” I was addicted to exercise at Vic Tanny’s. I had been a member for some time, and loved the challenge of keeping up with the toughest instructor they had. She always came up to me afterward, and commented on my stamina. I’d like to press the reverse button on that one too. My motivation and my stamina, are way below those standards!

As we chatted, he told me, “My wife could give you training instruction. She’s really good.” For some reason, I didn’t feel he was genuine, and I didn’t like the approach. I mean, at least he wasn’t lying about being married, however, this was a strange strategy, in my mind. And I didn’t feel he was just trying to secure another friendship for his wife.

“Her name is Bambi.” He told me. He wrote her name down on a piece of paper and handed it to me. I actually still may have this in my files of old notes and  letters, which I refuse to part with. He wrote his name down as well, and the phone number.

A few months later it was all over the news. A woman named, Lawrencia Bembenek, had been accused of murder. The allegations were, that she entered the home, of Fred Schultz’s ex-wife, in a kelly green, jogging suit, and brutally murdered the woman. The woman had been bound and gagged, while the children were secured in the other room. The children had witnesses this person, enter, and stated that it was a man.

The mother was shot with the service revolver, of Fred Schultz. This is where all the evidence developed. The story was very sad, and confusing. The evidence pointed to her, yet, the common sense, did not.

People were divided on this. Some believed she was framed by Fred Schultz. It was a terrible divorce and the ex-wife was demanding alimony and child support. This is why many believed that it was Fred Schultz who had commit the crime.

The fact that he was so quick to accuse his own wife, Bambi, was the other reason. And that he moved to Florida, immediately following her conviction, left more than enough suspicion in the minds, of most.

What kind of loving, supportive, husband does this?

Well, Bambi, has died. She lived a painful existence. Whether she commit the crime, or she was framed, doesn’t matter anymore. She lost her fight. But, now the one “who judges the living and the dead,” will reveal the truth.

I sat and pondered this meeting, I had so many years ago. I’ve had many encounters such as this. I wonder about it, and the Lord reminds me that I am only a sinner saved by grace. I could have taken many of the same turns and lost my way. But He has always held me up. This is why I turn to Him.

Someone had recently commented that he does not rehash the bad things that have happened to him in his life. I was reminded by the Lord, that we are commanded to do this. He has told us that “we overcome by the word of our testimony, by not loving our lives as to shrink back, and by the blood of the Lamb.” It is by the sharing of this past with others, that we can truly reflect His Glory. He has promised to “give us beauty for ashes, and strength for fear.”

I have seen this in my own life and am more than eager to share, the depressing state, I had been in and the terrible things, I’ve encountered, if it will be the strength to help one, person overcome. Because He tells us that “His grace is sufficient and His strength is made perfect in our weakness. So I will become weak, so that His strength may rest on me.”

When Bambi was asked this question about the life she’s led, and to rate it on a scale of 1 to 10. She rated it a 2.

The reported asked, “Has it been that bad?” Her reply was, “yea.” How sad it made me to read that comment. I wished I could have spoken of the joy, that I have found, “by the word of my testimony.” Because the one whom Christ sets free, is free, indeed!”

Falling Down….Again

Help I've Fallen!!!

So, to continue….

I worked a flight from San Francisco to New York. A red-eye. Exhausted. I landed at 7am and ran to the Air Train. Briskly walked the 4 (I think) walkways, and of course, as always, one was not working. But this time, it didn’t get me. I am always amused as we runners, rush onto a non-working walkway. We stop short, and watch those who already see us, rush by. I know they’re thinking the same thing that I’m thinking right now, as I watch the flight attendant run on to come to a screeching halt. Haha! I think. Now, I’ll be ahead in this mad rush to the gates. Hmm, wonder if she’s on the flight to Lauderdale. It’s first come first serve, in this stand by process. So if she’s on my flight, she’s just a  little irritated right now.

I start to gain some speed, and bypass the kiosk, as I know they Never work. I laugh again, as I see this same flight attendant, rush over to one. There’s no way, she’s going to check in before me and she’ll soon find that it doesn’t work for her either. I’m having a little contest in my mind, as I have no idea where she’s heading.

I get through security and have my own system of hitching and unhitching, my rig. Here she comes. About 5 people behind me. Luckily, today, it’s very quiet. Well, after all these are the first flights of the day.

I make it down to my gate, and see that boarding will begin in about 15 minutes. I run over to the little check-in counter and there is a couple standing there. They are excited because they’re going to the Bahama’s. Clearly in no hurry. The man was gracious enough to ask, “Are you in a hurry, cause we have a couple of hours.” I share that I’m on standby, anyway and my flight is the gate right next to us. The agent hears us, and says, “I’ll check you in. This will only take a moment.”

Great. She even gives me a seat assignment. Just as I look up and see my competitor coming toward the counter. “Too late.” I’m thinking. I already got here first. Ahh, yes. But then there are the days when it doesn’t work this way. So I have to enjoy it while I can.

On the flight, a woman takes the aisle seat and there is a seat open in the middle. After the flight attendant tells her, she really is in the premium seats, and he may have to assess a charge. She says, “well if there’s a charge, I’ll go back to my middle seat.” He finds out that they will waive the charges.

After we are in the air, I fall asleep against the window. I wake up to see her, sprawled across the middle seat, and her head is practically in my lap. It’s irritating, since, I can hardly move my arm, without hitting her head, and having a middle seat opened, should have provided us with some room. But now, she didn’t have to pay, and she’s taking two premium seats. I can’t understand why people are so rude, and she had no problems, even when I inadvertently, bumped her head with my elbow a few times.

After we landed, I was even more exhausted. And I looked up to see her staring at me. It was with a seductive look, and it totally creeped me out. Now I’m wondering if she slept on my arm, deliberately. The flight attendants were cracking up. I knew one of them, and she said, “Yea, I noticed she was pretty cozy with you.” I told her, “I know, I felt like I needed a cigarette, when we landed!” At this all of us cracked up.

Now, my daughter picks me up. Since, of course, my lemon is in the shop. I told her I already received a call from my brother’s bus company, at 7am, stating that they were at the front door and my brother wasn’t answering. Hopefully, he came down in time. I try to call his phone, but he almost never answers, unless my mom is with him.

I find out that he did make it in time. Good. Now I start cleaning the kitchen, before I even have a chance to get out of my uniform. No one can pick up after themselves, it seems, and my daughter is the worst violator.

I walk into my living room, to find a bottle of clear nail polish dumped over on the coffee table and two water glasses sitting right there. I was furious! The polish was all over, and I screamed upstairs to my daughter. She comes down in her robe. Never mind that it was 11:30. “You are not going to sleep! You have destroyed my table!” Of course she starts with, “How did that get dumped over?” “Well, obviously, it was sitting here with a cap half off and it was spilled! The bigger problem is that once again, you destroyed something else, and do not take any responsibility!”

I tell her to get something to take it off. Sand it and find a stain that matches to fix it. Of course, I know, she won’t be able to come close to repairing this without seeing this big mess. But the point is, she needs to try. I want her to understand that I’m not fixing her messes, nor am I letting her off the hook, as she begins to whine, “You don’t know what I have to deal with.” How many times can she play this card? “Oh really?” All the thoughts of my whole morning, up to this point, run through my head. The fact that I pay the bills, and make my meager salary stretch, in the face of companies, who don’t take responsiblity for their own errors, along with her, and her destructive and irresponsible behavior. I love my children very much, but when I see how immature my daughter is, I get annoyed. I know that I was pretty much raising myself, and I was an adult at a very young age. Of course, I didn’t want her to grow up like I did, but it had its advantages.

“Oh, you know what? I don’t care!” I am more than angry at this point. I’m tired, and really cranky. I won’t even stand for this nonsense. She’s not going to turn the tables, and try the guilt trip. “I am tired of your behavior. You’re going to be taking the small bedroom, as I get all of your garbage out of the room you trashed. You break things and lose things constantly. Lost two sets of keys, two cell phones, and the charger, just in the last month. And  you expect everyone else to rescue you. I’m not doing it! You always tell me you’re not a child. Well, welcome to adulthood! Now fix that table or you’re paying for it!”

Next, I’m on the phone with my insurance company again. I’m also making calls about my brother and trying to get some of the benefits, he is entitled to. Corruption has all but robbed him, of the services he’s entitled to. The whole mess, is depressing and I’m constantly fight battles for him, as well as my mother.

Now, I need my daughter to leave my space, so I can regroup. I am close to her and it is the reason, I get so angry. I want her to get it. I just called her last week, to tell her that I saw “The Situation,” coming through security. She was thrilled. I know she watches that show, even though it is pointless. However, the few episodes I’ve watched with her, shows me what her age is all about. Pretty sad.

I called last night to tell her I saw David Hasselhoff in LAX. I start to think, it’s amazing how we can be laughing about something, and a short time later, I’m so angry with her. I can’t wait until the roller-coaster ride of her twenties, is over.

The one scripture which kept coming to my mind was, “Do not grow weary in your well doing, for after a  little while, you will reap a harvest of joy.”

Ok, Lord…I’m ready whenever you are!!!

Falling Down

I can’t help it. Today was a real, Falling Down, day for me. I always loved this movie, because, although it is violent and a little too graphic, it certainly does depict, the anger that simmers, to lifes daily aggravation.

It seems that the corruption of this world, all come crashing in at once and it is so difficult to deal with. I was having my meltdown today, and had to watch ‘Bill Foster,’ to make myself feel that this wasn’t as terrible as his actions. I started yelling at the guy from Comcast, as I had been on the phone and online for more than an hour, trying to pay my bill.

A few months ago, I lost two tv’s during a storm. They were plugged into surge protectors, and when I had spoken to my cousin, he told me, that isn’t right. Find out if the cable was installed improperly. It doesn’t sound like it was grounded. Sure enough, I went in to the place to talk to someone, and she told me that they did indeed have a work ticket, stating that they needed to work on the cable outside. She gave me the ticket number, and she said she’d deducted the days, that I was unable to have service. She also told me that someone would come to look at my tv’s and get information.

A few days followed. Although, I saw repair men outside, I also had a visit from a technician. He took pictures of the tv’s and called his damage department with the information. I had to pick up some used tv’s at the Goodwill, just to give my brother with special needs, some entertainment. He had a nice tv, which I had just purchased the year before.

So, I get a bill from them, with the deduction, but they also added a charge for repair, inside my home. I was furious! I called and they quickly told me that they would take this off. Probably hoping I wouldn’t notice.

Next, I called to find out about the status of a damage claim. “No,” I was told. We won’t cover it, because it was a result of a thunder storm.” “What??! Your own representative told me that it was because of a cable improperly grounded and she gave me the work ticket number!” They promptly refused to discuss it any longer.

I decided that as soon as I purchased a new tv, I was dropping them. Today, they helped me make that decision. Another reprentative showed up at my house one day, asking about my service. He claimed they were losing a lot of customers to AT&T, and they wanted to hear my complaints. Oh, this is great. I told him all about the lies, and deceptive practices. He asked me what kind of televisions I had. “Well, the one in my family room, was a big projection tv.” I told him. “Where is it? he asked. I got rid of it, because the tube had blown.” The other one was almost brand new, and is still in my brother’s room.”

“Oh, I see.” he said. “Why didn’t you call to get an estimate on a repair?” “Because, I was waiting to hear, what your company was going to do. Fix it, or reimburse me.” “Oh, so you wanted us to reimburse you for an expensive tv?” At this point I was ready to go so Michael Douglas on him! “Listen! My kids are watching a little tv, I picked up for $15 at a thrift store. I didn’t care what you did, but then you called to tell me you weren’t responsible at all! Now you may understand why you’re losing business!” At that, I closed my door.

So now, I tried to pay the bill. They tacked on $10 for a movied, none of us watched. I tried in vain to get online help. I called and the automated phone system didn’t work either. I got a rep on the phone and she said, that it would cost $5 to take my payment because I didn’t use the online feature!

I tried once more. It was impossible. I called a representative back and told him it wasn’t working. “Yes, we know, we’re having technical difficulties,” he said. But it will be $5 for me to take the payment.” Now I blew up. “Are you kidding me? This company is the biggest ripoff! I lost two tv’s and you wouldn’t take the blame for improperly grounding a cable. You also tacked on a charge for repairs in my home, which you didn’t make. You tell me that I should pay online or automated phone, and neither service works, and then you tell me you’ll have to charge me!” Connect me to your cancelation department.

Almost two hours for that. Next, I called my insurance. I have been billed for arrears, since I had not been working. Yet, I paid my premiums, up until April. I was put on hold, repeatedly as she tried to sort this out. I was told my balance was another $600, which is totally ridiculous, since I had paid almost $2000, for premiums I’d owed. I had all the facts, but they sure didn’t. Now after about another hour on the phone, I was told, a senior account representative,would contact me after the investigation.

Oh, who cares. Take your time. After all, it’s only money. Hey, I held up my end of the bargain! It’s like Michael Douglas, wielding a baseball bat, “I’m just exercising my rights!” lol I have to think of some of these classic scenes, when I’m having my meltdowns.

Next, my car. Well, that’s been a nightmare since I bought it. Yes, I purchased a used car, from the place which boasts, “We aren’t like the other guys. Would you rather ride a horse?” Well, “yes!” After my experience with them, a horse would defnintely be more reliable. I haven’t driven my car in the past year, and every time something happens to it, it’s serious. From the first month I drove that thing. The whole headlight system went out. Next it was the calipers and brake system. My warranty company wouldn’t even comver it, because, they said, it was sold this way! I told the towing company to take me right in front of the building and park it, so everyone could see what a piece of junk it was!

My friend was laughing the other day, and he said, “That car is like an episode of The Twilight Zone.” “Right???” I said. I cannot believe this. I said, with my luck, I will tell the mechanic, “look just take it. Sell it for parts.” And he’ll say back to me, “Oh, I’m sorry, but I’ve had it on my lot, too long. I’m going to have to charge you for keeping it. At $50 a day, for 7 days, let’s see. I’ll just charge you $350, without any hidden fees.” Cause we all know about those hidden fees.

I’m scared that I’m going to finallyget rid of it and walk out to my driveway to see Rod Serling, standing next to it! I’ll probably hear that creepy theme music playing as well!

Oh, this is just one day in my life. It is a million spinning plates, and always in the center, I see some other scam artist. I’m beginning to think I have a magnet.

How was your day???

A Father’s Love

I have had curiosity since I was a young child. I remember feeling different. I didn’t know why. I knew I had a sense of compassion at a very young age. I was 4 years old, when I was coloring pictures and my mission was “to give them to children in the hospital.” I can’t even say that I’d been in a hospital yet. But I had an innate sadness, for all those children, and had wanted to bring them some happiness.

My mother and father were still together then and I still remember all the stacks of pictures I colored. It was a picture of a little girl with a braid. Not sure how that was to make them happy, but I had good intentions.

I felt things that were deeply spiritual. I strong connection to God, although I never had any formal instruction, at such a young age. I remember a serious encounter when my father had put me down for a nap once.

My mother was in the hospital, having another baby. It seemed every year, she was giving birth. My father had me lay down, and he went outside with my two brother’s and sister. I still can’t remember why I had to take a nap and my younger sister and brother’s were allowed to stay up.  Perhaps it was, that I was the ‘mother,’ while my mother was gone. And I needed energy to help my father in his task.

I was laying on my bed, and looking around the room. I could hear the voices of my siblings outside the house. The sounds of summer. And here I was, forced to make sleep arise, from my energetic body. It just wouldn’t happen.

 All of a sudden, the door moved. Could one of them be playing a trick on me? Now it swung wide open, and closed, almost completely,before swinging wide again.

I sat up, eyes wide with fear. I saw no one. My door began swinging, wildly, back and forth, back and forth. I screamed! “Daddy! Daddy!” At this point I was almost hysterical, as my mind raced to try to make sense of this experience.

My father came running into my room and I was crying. Deep sobs, and screaming in fear, “Someone is pushing my door! I saw it moving!” “Oh honey, there’s nothing here.” He was trying to console me, but to no avail. I knew what I had seen. “Maybe you were starting to fall asleep and you imagined it.” “No! Daddy, I really saw it! I wasn’t sleeping at all and it was real!” At this point I was pleading with him. He could see that I would not be dismissed, and told me he was looking under my bed and in my closet, to prove that nothing was in my room.

“I’m not staying in here!” I told him. He gave in and told me to get up and come outside with him. To this day I remember the experience and how real it was. It seemed the demons entered in the house and our lives, that day. It was the beginning of my many heart breaks.

The baby which my mother had,was the youngest of my brother’s to die 13 month’s later. He contracted spinal meningitis. It seemed that Death and Misery, had come through my door, on that summer day. My father and mother divorced and I experienced a steady onslaught of pain, for the rest of my life.

I had one sickness after another. I was in third grade, when it was my turn to slide on the ice patch. The kid’s in my school lined up for this excitement. As I began to slide, I felt myself, almost floating down to the ground as I fainted. I had mononucleosis and finally the decision was made to remove my tonsils.

 After having the surgery, I was in my little corner of the room. I noticed there was a man visiting his daughter in the bed next to me. She had been injured in a car accident.  As he sat vigil. I began to cough. The tickle in my throat just wouldn’t go away. I coughed so hard, that all of a sudden, it seemed a gallon of blood came pouring out of my throat. The man jumped up and ran out into the hall, “Nurse, nurse! Come quickly!”

I was rushed into emergency surgery. I remember seeing my father and mother, reunited, because of me. Hushed tones, and worried faces. As the Ether kicked in, I remember the elevator ride, with my father and mother holding my hands, and thinking, I wish it could always be this way. It seemed perfect. I never knew how serious my incident was, until years later. I was stitched up again and extended my hospital stay.How I longed for my father, and here he was, running to my rescue, once again. I didn’t know how much hurt I would carry inside, as a result of his absence.

I had an innate love for the things of God. I have a vivid memory of my father taking me to Sunday School once. I wore a frilly white lace dress, with white gloves, and I had a transparent, plastic purse, with little flowers on it. I loved to take my father’s hand and show off. He was my dad, after all. My protector. I wouldn’t grasp the serious difficulties he had, until I was much older. The reality that he couldn’t protect himself from the bondage of alcohol, and his sad life of abandonment. The demons which he battled until he died.

But, the Lord blessed me, by allowing me time to make up some of the days which were taken. I had an opportunity to live with him for a while, when I had gotten older. Just out of a terrible relationship, he begged me to come and stay with him. I did this for him. His wife didn’t like me at all, and I knew this was a huge challenge for him, to come up against her, but he did. I wanted to honor his wishes, by accepting this offer, even though it was to be a miserable experience for me.

My father would be up early in the morning, and we would sit at the table and talk, over coffee. He used to cook when he was in the Navy, so he loved to make breakfast. I had to catch him in the morning, because as day wore on, the alcohol called him. He would take his daily walk to the bar down the street, and that was when my father disappeared.

It was amazing to me, that my father would get up every morning to go to work, without any problems from a hangover. I knew way too many descriptive words, for my father’s illness, and he was considered, ‘A functioning alcoholic.’ That seems to be a misnomer. He didn’t function in any capacity, nor any other part of his life, when he was drunk. But when it came to his job, ‘he performed.’ And in the end, it seemed, even I couldn’t compete with this stronghold.

Looking back at my father’s life, helped me to understand and accept these facts. He was the only boy, with 5 sisters. My mother told me many stories about his life, and it broke my heart. He was already drinking way too much, at 13 years old. Trying to escape a mother, who was completely self-absorbed. She went from man to man, and my poor father was constantly abused. She finally placed him into the Children’s Home. This knowledge made me grieve for him. Knowing the pain that I had endured myself, in that place. But at least, I knew that my mother was ill, and the reason was not one of rejection.

Yes, I wondered what kind of mother would do this to her one and only son? I also wondered what thoughts went through my father’s mind, when he would come to visit us, his own children, in this home. He was controlled by this woman he had married, and would not offer to take us in. But to come and visit the same institution, he had been living in, many years before. This is probably one of the many reasons, which caused him to finally stand up to his wife, and he told her, I was coming to stay with him. I believe in his own way, he was trying to erase his feelings of guilt.

My mother told me that when he was old enough, he joined the Navy. Another escape from a life of sadness. I used to look at his Navy picture on my grandmother’s dresser. He looked so handsome. A head full of hair, and his white uniform. I loved that picture, and I always wanted it.

But alas, the woman who ruled his life, and the mother who had destroyed it, were both living with him, when his end had come. In many ways, I believe this, combined with the stripping away, of his job, were his demise. The guardian’s of his soul, tormented him,until he felt worthless. And the loss of his purpose just confirmed this. Nothing I could say or do, would change his mind.

I am often reminded of this love, and how important it is to all of us. The love of the father, or its absence from our lives, causes all kinds of grief. We were all created with this need for love from our parents, and the spiritual vacuum inside of us, was also created to be filled by our heavenly Father. The earthly father, is only a picture of what our heavenly Father, desires to give us. In some cases, it is far from the mark. But then, the Lord tried to point this out. Our parents are flawed human beings, in need of this same love. The Lord told us that, “if you asked your father for a fish, would he give you a stone? How much more, does your heavenly Father, who is perfect, give you what you need.”

Yes, He pointed out, that it is a natural desire for our father’s to want to protect and love their children. But the natural is imperfect. So, we must run to Him. The source of supernatural love. The only one who can give us perfect love. And, “perfect love casts out all fear.” The ones who have been lacking this love, need only to turn to Him. “He is Father, to the fatherless, and He defends the defenseless.”

I’m grateful that my earthly father, was here to give to me, the only love, he knew how to give. He pointed the way to my heavenly Father, in many things he said and did. Both spoken and unspoken. His example taught me, that although people can have serious problems, it is only in understanding their past, that we can have compassion. This is true grace.

So now I long to see my father in his new life and resurrected body.  I think of this and have his Navy picture in my mind, as I imagine us being reunited on day.  In a place where love is perfect.

A proud father

Fund Razor?

I’ll sell doughnuts but not makeup!

My mom and I, were talking about tv programs at dinner tonight.

My son loves to say “poop,” because he knows that my mother goes crazy when he says this. It is always followed by her response, “We never said that in our house.” This is when he slyly looks at me, and we share a knowing laugh. He knows that my house was no, Leave it to Beaver, experience. My mom wasn’t June Cleaver, and we had a lot of words flying, but my mom swears, that “poop,” wasn’t one of them. “Only pigs use that word,” she says.
Of course, she’s right. When I was young, I didn’t hear her swear. Well, if she was really angry, a “damn,” might fly, and ‘Hell,” was accepted. But never anything like, “Poop!”
But that was, her. Not us. And now, she’s telling us about another household, or family. I sure know she isn’t talking about us. I remember when he was asking her, “Well, grandma, what did you say if your kids had an accident?” “I said, you messed yourself.” Now I cracked up, as my son was laughing so hard. He repeated, “Oh no! You messed your dress!”
Then she told us that when she was a kid, her friend, called it, “ca-ca, and making bubbles.” At this, my son covered his ears, and was singing, “La-La-La-La-La! Grandma! You tell me only pigs say,”poop,” but I can’t eat, when I’m listening to this! Making bubbles and ca-ca!”
I was laughing so hard now, I couldn’t stop. My mom and my son go at it all the time. He loves to get a rise out of her and she gives him just what he wants.
Whenever he starts this conversation she tells him, “There’s no such word as poop. Only poop deck and pooped out.” Never mind, that he has no idea, what either one of these expressions, really means. He tells her, “Yes, there is! You can even look it up in the dictionary! It’s on tv too!”
“Well, that’s the problem with tv,” she states. Now I join in. “Yea, the commercials alone, would have been rated R, years ago. I mean look at the Victoria’s Secret commercials.”
Now my son rises from the table and says, “Oh, that reminds me. Now my school wants us to sell Avon, for a fund-raiser.” “What??? Are you kidding?” I ask.
“No, look and you should see the catalogue.” He pulls it out of his bag and on the front is a sexy looking, Fergie. He fans through it and there he points to a page, with a woman in her bra. “Look at this. And he begins to turn page after page, to show women in all states of undress.  I begin to wonder, “Just when did Avon, begin selling bra’s and why would my 12 year old son be involved in that endeavor? “Ok,” I said. This is ridiculous enough, to ask a bunch of middle and junior high boys to sell makeup and perfume. But carry around books like these?” I smell trouble. I had a flashback to my brother and his friends when they had found someones stash of Playboy magazines, at the river across the street. They hid them again, so they could keep returning. I never knew who ended up with those magazines, but I’m quite sure no one ever threw them away.
I can also guarantee, that this ploy to get these boys to sell Avon, is going to come crashing down. But I wouldn’t be surprised if they keep requesting the sales materials.
I was a bit suspicious a few years back, when the teachers needed to ask parents to bring supplies for the school year. But when I realized that they were receiving 30 giant bottles of germicide, and unlimited supplies of room deodorizer and tissues, I realized that perhaps, some of us were supplying their own needs. I was waiting for the request for, coffee, hair dye, deodorant and razors.
Happy to say that hasn’t happened yet. But, if my son comes home to tell me that he’s selling the Hooter’s Wing Sauce, I’m putting my foot down!