Angie's Ramblings

Moving Along

2009-02-21T10:00:00.002-06:00

I want to say Thank You to everyone who has been reading my Blogger posts. Your encouragement is worth more than you will ever know. It has been a catalyst that helps me to realize that I have something of value to offer the world.

In my ongoing efforts to reinvent myself, I have made a decision to change the format of my posts a bit and move them to a new service. I invite you to check out www.angiecox.net and see the new blogs I am posting, and check out my newly designed site. Yep....did it all by myself.

Again, thank you for stopping by occasionally, and I look forward to seeing you at my new "home".

The Interview

2009-02-11T16:04:00.006-06:00

The first time I saw a list of questions, it was almost annoying to me. Answering those things requires way too much thinking. However, this week it seems all I have done is answer questions about me, what I think, how I feel, my hangups, my dreams, etc. At this point, I figure I'm on a roll, so why stop now? Here goes: Another edition of The Interview.

If you had only one day to spend $20,000 (or else it would disappear!), what would you do with it? I think I would purchase 20 of those monster-sized oak trees from Holland Gardens and pay to have them planted on the farm. If there was anything left over, I would be tempted to plant a bumblebee and butterfly garden over there. Who says money can't buy happiness? An instant park could go a long ways toward making me smile.

What would you like to be written on your tombstone? I first wrote my epitaph last spring when I was taking a really neat class called 48 Days to the Work You Love. It's certainly been a lot longer than 48 Days, and I'm still not at the Work I Love, but I have a really cool epitaph. It says: Angie helped people to feel great about themselves and develop their talents and abilities. She gave others courage & confidence when they had none to give themselves. She gave them health and hope and the knowledge to change their own lives, and in doing so created a legacy of health, wealth, and love in her own family.

What advice would you give to yourself in 20 years? "Keep Your Mouth Shut and Opinions To YOURSELF!!! Doing otherwise has seldom landed you anywhere other than twelve inches deep in a nasty mess." Naaahhh....she needs to learn that one on her own. If I know her like I think I do, she isn't going to listen to me anyway.

How did you know that your husband was your soul mate? For starters, he represented everything I wasn't supposed to have, do, be, or experience, and as my parents will readily admit, that was an irresistable wide-open invitation to me. Actually, I didn't know for sure even as I walked down the aisle. I just knew that if I had to leave that place without him, I would die. I had left him behind for four and a half years, and I knew I could not do it even one more time. Of course, there was the Saturday afternoon not long after we were married when we went to Mom and Dad's to help replace a dishwasher. Here is this old pile of junk finally sitting out in the yard after years of doing it's daily duty. My dad immediately started trying to see if the pump could be salvaged. Then to my utter dismay, my husband began discussing possible uses for the top basket. I looked at my mom and said, "I got one just like my daddy!"

It has only been in the last year that I have begun to realize how we truly were meant for one another. Things he knew and understood 20 years ago are only now coming onto my radar. Kind of blows the mind, but it is really cool--the thoughts and ideas we are now able to share.

What’s your favorite “me time” activity? Why? That one entirely depends on the temperature and windspeed. Assuming an insanely gorgeous day, I want to be on the farm messing with the chickens, digging in the dirt, imagining my dream cabin, walking through the buffalo grass, and saying blessings over my little trees. Why? Because I love the freedom it represents to me. Cold and snowy lends itself to curling up for a nap in front of the wood burning stove. I love being snuggly warm on a cold and cloudy day.

Where has been your most favorite place to live, and why? I don't exactly have lots of experience living in different communities, but I have had the opportunity to live in some different houses within the community where I grew up. I guess my favorite is the fairytail farm. It was simply amazing. I was pretty little, living there from ages2-6 years. There were these two old houses. We lived in one and the landlord/lady lived in the the other one. The pasture went for what seemed like miles right out the front door. To the east were these huge cedar trees with asparagus growing like crazy under them. Then there was the pond. That was just the coolest thing on the planet, and I was heart-broken when the pond had to be allowed to dry up. We used to actually fish in that thing, I think. There were all kinds of fruit trees around the pond. Trees were everywhere. One of them is almost 100 years old and it would take three people to stretch arms around it. And the windmill.....it went up in the sky forever.

The landlady used to take me out to the horse barns where we had Peggy (the good horse, but a mare), Peanut (an obnoxious biting shetland pony), and a gelding named Booger. That last one should be self explanatory. The landlady was an amazing person. She has always held a bit of royal mystery to me. I truly wish now that I had found a way to spend time with her as I grew older. I always loved to see her. I'm thinking that's another blog post. Anyway, this place was like a princess castle grounds to the little girl I was.

I'll end this post with one last question.
What’s your favorite quote and why? You never change things by fighting the existing reality. To Change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete. Buckminister Fuller I supposed this quote is my C4 for making things happen. So much of the time we try to modify the current standard to try and improve on it when it simply has nothing left to offer us. The only way to captivate the attention of the masses who resist even the smallest of change is to WOW them with some new amazing eye candy that can't be ignored. The other is left behind and forgotten and the new gains its foothold. Fighting the existing reality is quite exhausting and results in bloodshed. Creating something new is simply easier.

That's it for this edition of The Interview.

Living Contradictions

2009-02-09T18:57:00.003-06:00

I have found a new blog site to follow. Actually I have discovered several in the last week, but I am really liking this one. It's kind of scary because it is almost as if this woman has climbed inside my head and is reading from the crevices of my brain.

So I'm reading these posts looking for nuggets that I can add to my treasure trove of self discovery, and I come across one entitled You're a Mess of Contradictions. How Very Beautiful. Okay. I'll take the bait. I admit it. I am a Mess of Contradictions. Let me see just how far down this rabbit hole I can go by answering some of the questions she poses in the blog.

First one: When has someone said, “That really surprises me about you,” “I can’t believe you did that”? Okay, slight variation coming, but not really. I am so easily intimidated and extremely shy. There are people who can just enter my presence and I will almost crumble into a pile of mush on the floor. As for parties, no thanks. If I have to go, I want to be with someone around whose arm I can wrap my hands and cling for security. When I have shared this with others, they laugh as if I have lost my mind. Comments like, "You? Intimidated by anything or anyone? Shy? Gimme a break! You are the intimidator! There's not a shy bone in your body!" Ironic that someone who is apparently a bit intimidating is in fact extremely intimidated by others who are outspoken or in a position of authority. And as for shy....like the original blog's author, give me a stage and I'll perform, but send me into a group of people to be social, and dental work is more appealing.

Number two: Where do you feel the pull to compromise vs. rebel? I would have to say where my paycheck is concerned, apparently I will compromise. This became very evident about a year ago when I defended someone in a very public way only to experience the disapproval of my superiors who strongly disliked what I had done. I had done nothing illegal. I had done nothing unethical or immoral. I had taken a stand on a matter about which I felt strongly, but which could have potentially interfered with the quiet exit they had sought for the person I was defending. When it was suggested that my actions had jeopardized my job (which to this day I am not sure was even legal on their part), I quickly cowed to authority amidst a mild panic attack and a couple of weeks of significant stress. I'm still not sure I've forgiven myself for being such a spineless baby. Fear won that battle. Not something I am proud of.

Number three: Guilt can be a primo indicator for inner truth tugs. What are your guilty pleasures or indulgences? Kind of a toughy here. I can make myself feel guilty for lots of stuff and still indulge. I guess the most significant is spending money. I LOVE to spend money. I love to spend it for products and services that reveal to me more about who I am. I like self-help books, self-improvement websites, spiritual discovery information, etc. I feel a teensy bit guilty when I indulge in them, and you can bet that if anyone else in the family spent money on that type of stuff, I would be very annoyed with them. I also love sweets. As a kid, I could find a bag of semi sweet chocolate chips in the deep freeze and devour them in a very short time period. I tend to hoard when it comes to sweets. I know I shouldn't, but that's how it is. Then my hips bear the guilt.

Number four: What do you save for special occasions {from your dancin’ shoes to your verbal affection}? Hmm...gonna have to think about this one. I guess I'd have to say the lace tablecloth that was my grandmother's. It doesn't come out very often. My wedding ring is another one. I am madly in love with my husband of 20 years, but I do not like to wear my ring. He doesn't wear his either. It's just too...confining. Jewelry of any kind for that matter. There had better be royalty showing up to shake my hand for me to wear jewelry. "I love you's" are saved for very special occasions. I wish I would let those little words slip out more often, but they just don't roll off my tongue with any ease. This is probably because they are frequently tied to tears (see a couple of entries further down the post), and I don't do tears. Actually I DO do tears, but not by choice. It's a genetic defect. They come at the most inconvenient and inappropriate times. AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!!

Number five: What would going “wild” look like for you? Gee whiz....that's kind of scary. Okay...warning. This part will not be G rated or even PG. Beware. You have been warned. Mom, Dad, children of mine, look away. I'll start with a gentle one. Going wild for me might mean getting drunk or high. I've been tipsy once, but never drunk and certainly never high. I'm too much of a control freak to let that happen. Going wild would be me buying two plane tickets to Paris (France, not Texas) for a weekend rendezvous with my amazing incredible hot husband. Wild for me would be me, him, trampoline, stars, no blanket, and me actually relaxing with four kids living at home. Use your imagination. See, I can't even come out and say it when I think certain people might read this. Going wild for me would be leaving the security of a monthly paycheck to live out my passions and dreams.

Number six: What do you deny yourself? Very little. Actually that's not true. I deny myself the right to cry when I want to. I hate crying in anyone else's presence. I just hate it. It's that control freak stuff rearing its head. I also deny myself the right to say what is really on my mind because I don't like hurting people or having them angry with me. I know. Hard to believe this one. Trust me. If I said what was really on my mind, I probably wouldn't have a friend left in the world and you would be picking up the tattered remnants of your shredded self-image.

Various other contradictions in my life: I am a pro-choice pro-lifer. I am a sarcastic, caring antagonist. I am probably a Christian Buddhist, and truth be known, I think Jesus was, too. I am a positive thinking worrier. I can be a very encouraging witch (....some of you will want to put the "b" in place of the "w", and I totally understand). I am a copy-machine-and-phone-system-challenged technology guru. I am a city-dwelling farm girl. Okay, that one is a stretch. I live inside the city limits of a town of 5000 people, but I am working my way to the outskirts of town where there is dirt and livestock and manure. I am a liberal republican and a conservative democrat, although Libertarian may be more accurate. I want to be in control, but I don't want to be in charge. And finally, I am a health, wellness, and fitness fanatic in an overweight middle-aged, need-to-exercise-more body. Kind of sad since that is my passion.

What about you? Any contradictions in your life?

A Voice From Beyond

2009-02-08T14:29:00.015-06:00

Desperation sometimes lands me in unexpected places. Yesterday is a prime example of that. I was asked to sing for a funeral, not because I am a great singer, but because I CAN sing decently, and the church was desperate for another soprano. It was a little weird. I won't go into details as to why, but it was knee-quivering weird just being there.

Nevertheless, I was glad to be able to help out. The granddaughter of the deceased is a former classmate of mine, and I am grateful that I was given the privilege of honoring her grandmother with beautiful A Cappella hymns. I am also grateful to have been present to experience something that may forever be emblazened in my brain as a realization that I have evolved and continue to evolve to higher spiritual planes. That experience is the subject of this post.

We sang a few hymns as requested by the family. My uncle, who was also singing with us, then went to the front to read the obituary. That was followed by a recorded hymn which included four different solos. If you have never really listened to A Cappella music, it can be hauntingly beautiful. In this case, haunting and beautiful are both understatements.

The first solo was sung by Melody, a daughter of the deceased, who was most certainly prophetically named. She has such a rich, beautiful contralto voice. Goodness knows it would be almost impossible for a son or daughter to sing at their parent's funeral, but thanks to technology, everyone will remember her resonant, unquivering voice delivering its message of triumph for her mother.

The second and third solos were sung by two ladies, both dear friends of the first soloist and members of the same singing group. Again, their voices are simply beautiful, and their recorded solos resonated through the church auditorium with an almost indescribable richness.

Then came the fourth solo. I don't know that I would have reacted the same way had I heard the song in a different setting, yet because we were at a funeral, my reaction was one that will be remembered for a very long time. The fourth soloist was a tenor. His voice was sweet and familiar. The wife he had left behind was sitting on the pew beside me as the other "desperation soprano". You see, Deryl left us a few years back to go hang out with his Jesus. Cancer took him from this dimension at a very young age. Yet there he was, right in our midst. His voice was as alive and full of beauty as it had ever been. I struggled to hold it together. I was not ABOUT to cry. No sir. Not me. I sat as still as a rock, not even daring to breathe. I swallowed hard a couple of times. I cut my eyes sideways enough to notice his widow reach for a tissue and wipe her eyes.

Let's be clear...he was there...in the auditorium...with us. It was like he was heaven's usher reaching his hand out to the spirit of the lady whose body lay in the casket, his pure sweet voice singing its song to guide her confidently to her eternal home and the arms of her Father. Shivers literally rocked my entire body. My throat gets tight and my eyes well up even now as I think about it. Yes, he was there. I could not see him, but I certainly felt him.

There are those who say the deceased cross over and never come back to us. They base this belief on the story of the rich man and the beggar named Lazarus found in the New Testament. In that story, both the rich man and Lazarus die. Lazarus goes to paradise and the rich man finds himself in torment begging for a drink of water to cool his burning unquenchable thirst. When Abraham insists that Lazarus cannot and will not cross over to bring the rich man water, the rich man asks Abraham to let Lazarus go back to warn the rich man's brothers about the impending doom that awaits them. Again Abraham refuses to honor the request citing that it would do no good as they would not listen to a dead man's ghost anymore than they would listen to the prophets.

Many people for any number of reasons have their spiritual radar turned off. For them, as it was for the rich man's brothers, it would be a total waste of time for a spiritual being to attempt to communicate. They would reject the communication attempt as a figment of their imagination or attribute it to something they could easily explain away such as too much alcohol, fatigue, or being overly emotional and distraught.

Yet for those who are open and receptive, visits from the spiritual realm are a peaceful reminder that we are interconnected throughout eternity. Those of us who still possess a mortal body find comfort in knowing that even in passing, our loved ones are merely changed, not gone. They have been set free of the physical restrictions that the rest of us must still endure for awhile longer. Sometimes they find ways to let us know everything is okay. Other times, they provide us with a playful reminder of the things they loved.

Some Christians will see this description as contradictory to scripture. Others reading this will release a resounding AMEN and follow up with thanks for having the courage to put into words the things they have secretly felt for quite some time. Still others will simply say, "I never really thought about it like that. Maybe so, maybe not."

Jesus Christ came in part to enlighten us. A portion of his task was to lift our thinking and intentions to a higher plane--one on which we could fully communicate with him and with the Father. He told his disciples that's why he spoke in parables. The average person was incapable of understanding the spiritual message behind his stories. Yet his disciples, those whom he had chosen and those who had chosen him had been elevated to higher plane of enlightenment and understanding. They had the ability to "get it".

Saturday morning, when I realized what I was feeling as I heard the beautiful voice from beyond, I held a small celebration inside of my heart. I have come such a very long ways from where I once was. Slowly but surely, I am beginning to understand the many ways in which God communicates with his chosen ones. Some have the luxury of willingly choosing to communicate with God. Others like Saul of Tarsus and Angie of Texas had to be dropped square on their heads before they would or even could allow themselves to be lifted up to higher planes where communication with God is possible. I would suggest the need for aspirin, but the elevation and being in the presence of the Great Physician has done wonders for coping with the pain that I occasionally experience.

Hey Deryl, thanks for stopping by. It's been way too long. Let's do it again some time. Maybe next time a few more of your friends will get to experience your presence. 'Til then........

My "One Thing"

2009-02-03T15:12:00.000-06:00

I found a blog post this week that was entitled "What is the One Thing in Your Life?". The author was making reference to the movie "City Slickers" where Jack Palance tells Billy Crystal that the secret to life is One Thing, and he (Billy Crystal's character) has to figure it out for himself. Like the author of the post, I remember being struck by the profoundness of that statement, and to this day, City Slickers remains one of my all time favorite movies.

After reading Mary Jaksch's post, I again returned to that question. What is the one thing in my life that makes me me? Like her, there are several areas about which I am passionate. I am passionate about my amazingly wonderful husband. I am passionate about how much I love my kids yet want them to grow up and leave home. I am passionate about teaching others what I know about health and wellness. I am passionate about wanting to feel in control of my health and wellness. Maybe passion is my one thing? Or maybe not.

I am finding that my passions change as I grow older. When I was 18 years old, I was passionate about getting off the farm and having a real life. As I got a bit older and snagged one of my passions (the one that hasn't changed to whom I am very happily married), I wanted my kids to have neighbors they could easily visit. I wanted cable TV. I wanted newer vehicles. I wanted a big, nice house. I wanted to be free from mice and rattlesnakes, passionately.I wanted a job that paid decent and provided a long vacation. So I became a teacher.

Time rolled on, and I quickly discovered that I was NOT passionate about teaching...at least not teaching children. I became passionate about computers, which is really ironic since only a few years earlier I professed my total disdain for the horrid beasts. Now I find that my passion for computers, or at least my desire to work with them and with people as they relate to computers, is gone. Not just sort of gone, but majorly gone. Outa here. See ya. Adios! I did learn from the experience that I need to be needed. I enjoy being appreciated. I get a kick out of helping people who truly desire my help and who strive to improve themselves as a result of my assistance. That's pretty amazing stuff. Probably better than any drug I could get off of one of the town dealers. I have also discovered that I am passionate about getting back to the farm...sort of. Maybe back to the land is more accurate. I want to be self-sustaining as much as possible. I want smaller, not bigger. I think I could really enjoy a little cabin in the woods or an RV on the ocean's edge at this stage of my life.

If my passions can change so easily, then PASSION must not be my One Thing. It can't be. The One Thing is a constant, right?

I'm sure there are plenty of well meaning Christians out there who would suggest that if Jesus were my one thing, I would have total peace and love life no matter what comes my way. Well....I hate to disappoint, but Jesus is NOT my one thing. I mean I like him and all that, but he simply is not what rocks my world. He is not the butter on my hot biscuit. He is definitely the jelly, but not the butter. Jelly is good. Jelly is good alot. Yet I can eat biscuits without jelly, but I just can't quite get them down without butter. Yep, Jesus is my jelly, but not my butter.

Then it hit me. There is one thing that keeps me going. There is one thing that I scratch and claw to recover when it seems lost. There is one thing that if you take it from me will instantly turn me against you for life. It is the one thing that I most resent losing.

For me, the One Thing is FREEDOM.

I need freedom. I want to be free to choose my life's destiny. I need to be free to choose what is best for my family and myself. I passionately desire freedom from government regulation. I desperately want freedom from the energy grid. I ache for freedom from status quo. I must feel the wind in my hair while being free from time. I long to experience the smell of an Hawaiian hibiscus flower without ever once thinking about how much the motel room is costing me. I want to walk hand in hand with my husband through the Alaskan wilderness as we gaze at some of the most pristene and awesome beauty on our planet without a moment's thought about restrictions. I want to be free from stuff. I want to be free from banks and creditors and regulators. I want to freely choose how to educate my kids. I want to choose who I help and when. I want to live and work on a piece of land without fear of the government taking it away because I didn't contribute to their ludicrously stupid corporate welfare programs. I want essentially what George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, and Patrick Henry wanted.

The irony of freedom is it comes at high costs. The pendulum swings to the extreme because humans seem unable or unwilling to strike a balance. We desired absolute freedom from disease and death, and so we have become slaves to the pharmaceutical companies. We desired freedom from crime, and now we risk losing our right to own a gun with which to defend and protect ourselves. We chose freedom from terrorism, and now we are slaves of the Patriot Act and Homeland Security. We wanted freedom from labor intensive small farms, and now we are slaves to a paycheck. We wanted freedom from processing and storing our own food, and now we are slaves to processed foods and the Food Industry giants. We wanted freedom from darkness, and now we suffer from sleep deprivation and chronic fatigue syndrome while our kids develop autism from mercury poisoning at an alarming rate. It's quite an ironic twist.

Nevertheless, my One Thing remains Freedom. People died for it. People have died to keep it. Unfortunately people will probably have to die to get it back.

For now, I will point my life in a direction that will provide as much traditional freedom as I can achieve. I am coming home....to the land...to my heritage...to Mother Nature...to self-sufficiency...to health and wellness.

How about you? What is your One Thing?

Another Peak at the Plan

2009-01-30T07:02:00.003-06:00

This universal power, this force of nature, this entity many of us call God is absolutely the coolest, most amazing, and totally awesome force in the universe.

I have spent the last few weeks visualizing my business future. After all, if you can conceive it and believe it, you can achieve it. A key chunk of that visualization was the recognition that one of the old buildings downtown is part the destiny of my business. It is terribly run down and in need of much work, but it is 5000 sq feet and two stories of space for my Wellness Center.

The building has been for sale, but I really didn't realize it until earlier this week. Last Sunday morning, Hubby and I were feeding the critters on the farm when I decided to tell him about my feelings about the building. Imagine my surprise when he told me he had wanted to buy that building 20+ years ago to live in it. How awesome is it that we both had an interest in the building? I have been saying for quite some time that he and I are truly soul mates, yet I have been about 20 years behind him in acquiring some spiritual elements that he mastered long ago. I'm catching up.

Anyway, I decided to contact the realtor about the building. I knew we were not in a position to make another purchase of that magnitude, even though the building is a steal at $30K. I just wanted to put out there that we had a vision for the building and maybe find out what was going on with it. I had already made up my mind that God would find a way for that building to land in our laps without us having to expend a lot of money to make it happen. How wasn't clear, but I felt like that was what was/is supposed to happen.

The realtor emailed me back with the news. They are closing on the building on Friday, which I presume is today. For a split second my hopes were dashed, then as I kept reading, and re-reading, and re-re-reading, I realized what he was saying. The new owners would be glad to show us the building and they are interested in ideas about what to do with it.

Did I understand that right? They bought the building not sure of what they would do with it, and here I was with oodles of ideas for it? Could that really be right? I quickly wrote all of my ideas in an email to the realtor. He probably thinks I'm totally nuts. Maybe not. I didn't tell him all of what had been going on in my head, so maybe I'm sort of safe.

Then I called Eric, and a wave of emotion and awe came over me like a tsunami. How is this possible? It was as if my vision were coming to pass. A way is being made to realize my dream. (Did I mention that the realtor included the line about being in the dream making business in his email?) All of this had been put into motion long before I caught the vision of using that building or having someone else funding it. I was overwhelmed with love and admiration for the Master of the Universe.

Some would be tempted to enter a realm of shock and disbelief. Not me. This is one more piece of evidence I continue to need to know for certain that I am on track to fulfill God's plan for me. I am taking what many would consider a huge risk in leaving a stable and comfortable job to enter the unknown. Yet it isn't unknown for me. God continues to remind me that what appears to be shaky, unstable ground under my feet is in fact solid because he is removing everything that is unstable. He told me I would walk on water with him. I believe it.

My Oldest Superstar

2009-01-12T15:35:00.009-06:00

My oldest had the honor of playing in the Golden Spread All Star Volleyball tournament this weekend on the South team. The cool part is that the volunteer who coached her team is a Tulia native. Here are some pictures my dad made. We're gonna make a professional vb photographer out of him yet.

Erika goes up for the kill.

And another smash.

That's what I call gettin' some air time!

Going up for the block.

The Wall of Women--Impenetrable.

What'll It Be?

2009-01-10T21:43:00.015-06:00

There are some other blogs out there that I enjoy reading, and occasionally I find myself forced into posting a response on one. This week, I read Trey Morgan's post about being tired of hearing everyone whine about the economy. Me being me, I agreed with him and posted some comments about how watching the play by play on the news actually attracts more bad economic results whereas turning it off and realizing that we have the most powerful force in the universe on our side would improve things.

One of his other readers posted a touching story about her father losing his job and not being able to find another one. It was one of those "be careful what you say unless you are living the hell" sorts of things. She made a very valid point. It is easy for me to advocate thinking positive as the cure for all that ails us as long as my paycheck is there every month on time and in the amount I expect to receive.

Yet someone on the blog went on to talk about God needing some people to be financially poor so we could relate to and reach the lost who are poor, even suggesting that some of us are supposed to be poor because that's what God wants for our lives.

Sorry folks. I just can't go there. This is the fatalistic flaw in so many Christian beliefs. How DARE we suggest for even one second that God would decide I get to be rich, but your destiny is to reach the poor who are lost, so you have to live in poverty like they do. That would be akin to my husband saying to two of my daughters, "Here you go, Girls....here's the deed to the house, your college paid for, a new car for each of you, and an oil well (or wind turbine) just for grins." He then would turn to the other two and say, "Okay, you two ....well...gee whiz, Girls.....you just can't handle money, so I'm not going to allow you to have a dime. Besides, you have poor friends and they might feel alienated if I allow you to be wealthy."

What earthly father would treat his children with such favoritism and unfairness? We all know what we would think of such a father. "....If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!" Matthew 7:11.

All my life, I have been preached to about how God only gives us what we can handle and no more. That has been stretched and applied to so many areas of our lives in such inappropriate ways. Why is Solomon any more worthy of riches than I am? Did God love him more than he loves me? Am I somehow unworthy or too stupid to handle wealth at the level that Solomon had (adjusted for inflation by today's standards, of course)?

This Father to whom many of us have abdicated all responsibility for our success is the same Father who designed the most amazing garden imaginable for two most precious beings. That amazing garden met all of their needs. Oh yeah...right....they sinned and got kicked out, so now he plays favorites with the rest of us and only the chosen ones get to be wealthy and well-fed. I'm not buying it! "...there is no favoritism with Him." Eph. 6:9

Jesus Christ may have come to be the ultimate perfect sacrifice for our sins, but he also came to deliver a message that God's chosen had somehow missed over the years. He came to tell us that we can have anything we want if only we will ask for it, then truly believe we are already in possession of it. He did not include exceptions in that message. He did not say, "....If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, your Father in heaven will give good gifts to those he thinks can handle them, but some of you have to remain poor or we can't reach the lost."

Jesus made believers out of poor people by showing them amazing things....miracles that exceeded anything they ever imagined possible. He produced thousands of dollars in food out of a couple of scrawny fish and a few biscuits. He did not walk around the crowd and offer the food to those who could handle it while withholding it from those who needed to remain hungry. All were deserving of his gift. As a matter of fact, he produced and offered 12 full baskets more than they could handle.

He was placed on a cross because he was a threat to the status quo. The wealthy were scared to death of how he was empowering the poor. The poor were afraid of having to take responsibility for their own quality of life. We, too, are doing this same thing today. Our churches teach the ask, seek, knock principles, yet the moment someone takes that concept to a level that elevates their life circumstances a little more than what the rest of us can handle, we start looking for the evil in their lives. We claim they are into New Age or Eastern religions. We suggest that they are elevating themselves to the level of God Almighty and then proceed to find ways to persecute them.

But wait. Are we not made in the image of God? Is not Christ our brother? Are there not references in the Inspired Word of God to the Son of Man? The Word? The Light of the World? That's just too New Age. How dare I.

And so I digress. My point in this spiritual rant is that I take issue with the notion that a loving, fair, just God chooses some of his children to be financially blessed and others to be destitute. How dare we assign responsibility to God for such situations. And don't even suggest that they are Satan's doing. It also has nothing to do with our parents, although parents can leave us with some pretty bizarre beliefs about money and wealth. Country of origin can certainly complicate things, yet God moved Abraham and made him filthy rich, so I'm not buying that one either.

There is only one place to assign responsibility for our personal level of financial achievement or lack thereof, and that is squarely on our own shoulders. Yes folks, it is time to quit the whining about how bad things are and begin asking, seeking, and knocking, all the while fully expecting and visualizing having it all. The Father, your Father, wants you to swim in it, sleep in it, eat from it, dance in it, and most importantly share it. God is not the one who determines whether you can handle it or not. You are! Your choices and your decisions in life have placed you exactly where you have landed, yet God is more than willing to pick you up and deliver you to a new level if you truly desire the change.

He's waiting to take your order. Is that language too strong for some of you? Okay then, he's waiting for you to ask him. He's wrapped around your little finger just like my man is wrapped around the little fingers of me and four beautiful girls. He loves you so much that he'll give you your heart's desire. What'll it be? What will you have? As for me and my house, there's no holding back. We'll take the whole enchilada with grateful hearts.

He's DAAANNNGGGG Good!!!!!

2008-12-16T06:55:00.011-06:00

In an effort to keep everyone up on the career side of my blog, I thought I would share God's latest effort to let me know everything is on the right track.

My oldest has decided she wants to play club volleyball this spring, so away she went on Saturday to club tryouts. Saturday night when we were all back together, she let us know that she was the ONLY 18 year old to show up for tryouts. I'm thinking, "This can't be very good. How's it going to work out?" So I decided to go with her on Sunday for part two of tryouts. I had thought about calling the director and asking if we even needed to bother to show up, but I didn't. We just went.

Sure enough, we got there and she was still the only 18. We had to provide some paperwork, so as I handed it to the director, I asked if she even wanted it. She took it and said, "We have a plan."

Hmmmm.....I thought. Wonder what this could be? Combine Erika with a younger group and make them all play up? There I was trying to help God get things figured out. When will I learn?

About halfway through tryouts, this really nice looking dark headed guy showed up. He looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. I wondered what he was there for? Could he be one of the coaches evaluating players? A little while later, I looked up and he appeared to be walking toward me. It was a bit intimidating. I looked around to see if there was anyone else in the vicinity toward whom he could possibly be walking. Nope. I was it. Just me. So I put on my most cordial face, stuck out my hand for the manliest handshake I could muster, and met his greeting.

It seems he was from another volleyball club in town. He and "our director" are friends, so she very graciously called him to come watch Erika and possibly give her a spot on one of his teams. He was to call us back and let us know how it would all work out. He did, and Erika has a team tryout with them this week.

Last night while freezing my fingers off feeding and watering my plethera of livestock, I received a phone call from the other half of our "new" volleyball club. In the process of that conversation about Erika's participation on one of their teams, I revealed my current endeavor of attending massage therapy school. Ten minutes later, he called back, this time to offer to let me schedule massage sessions during team practices since many parents and other family members are often stuck at their gym for several hours.

I was floored in my awe. I cannot charge for massages that I give while in school, yet I have to get some "practicum" massages done outside of class. By taking advantage of his offer, I can create a clientele in the Amarillo area. Also, some of their players are traveling all the way from Lubbock to play with them, so there is also a possibility of establishing a clientele in Lubbock as well. My speciality is sports massage, so what a great opportunity to get to the heart of my desired clientele. The club director gets a bonus in that he can offer his parents some value added for their choice to participate in his program. It's a classic Steven Covey Win-Win for everyone.

I had mentioned in earlier posts here and here how God has revealed to me through a series of dreams that He is removing everything that seems to be shaky ground about my transitioning into a new career. I stand in total awe of His amazing ability to do exactly what He said He would do. I know He has a plan for the next phase of my life and that I can relax and enjoy the ride into that next chapter. When the time is perfect, He will reveal to me each part, each phase, each doorway through which I get to walk. How cool!!!

Now, God, I'm ready for you to reveal to us exactly how we are going to pay for Erika to participate in the club ball. It ain't cheap! And yet, I know this is from you, and I know you have a plan. I'll be waiting to see what you reveal to us.

Sports Parents and School Administrators

2008-12-12T08:04:00.010-06:00

This is probably going to be one of the touchiest blog posts I've written so far. When it comes to youth and teenage sports, most of the adults involved are overly sensitive. Parents expect their children to be given a fair shake and a certain level of protection. School administrators want everyone to be nice and cheer but not gripe. Officials want to call the game, get their paycheck, and get out the door without being lynched. Everyone has a legitimate reason to be on high alert in the youth sports environment.

Our local parents and school administration are no exception, and if anything, we may be in a heightened state of alert because of the investment of time and energy some of our families have put into their respective sports. As with any difficult situation, there are ALWAYS two sides. Sometimes the sides are unable or unwilling to see things from the other point of view. My intention is to provide some perspective as to what I see as being both sides of the local sports parent issue. I'm probably also subjecting myself to some type of self-correction by writing this since we tend to see the faults in others that are most glaring in our own lives.

Back in the day (1983), a teenage girl hit the basketball court and played hard for four quarters. Her greatest concern for her personal safety was a bad landing following a rebound that resulted in a sprained ankle, someone's boney rear end blocking her out a little too efficiently, or the rare but not unheard of blown knee, which was usually the result of a pivot gone bad rather than the modern day football tackle seen on basketball courts across America. Physical contact wasn't tolerated by refs. There was no grabbing of the shirt, no reaching to knock the ball out of your opponent's hands, and even the cleanest of blocked shots was probably going to land you a foul. Basketball was basically a non-contact sport.

At that time, the majority of parents didn't feel qualified, nor did they feel the need to coach from the bleachers or scream obscenities at the refs. Don't get me wrong. There were some, and I could probably name names from the mid 1980's of our local poster parents for bad sports fan behavior. However, those were few and farther between than they are today.

My parents were great, and yet I didn't realize how great they were until I started noticing how I was acting toward my daughter. My parents only came to home games. It was rare that they traveled to an out of town game unless it was some place within a 30 minute drive. During the game, I never heard my parents yell or try to tell me what I should be doing. They clapped when something went well, and for the most part, I think they sat quietly and observed during the less than pleasant times. After the game, they would comment on the things I did right. I don't remember a single time that negative feedback was given about my performance. The closest thing to a negative was an occasional, "It was a tough game, wasn't it?"

That kind of parent behavior is rare today. Most parents have invested extraordinary amounts of time, money, and emotion into their kids' sports talents. In a few cases, they may know more about that sport than the person the school hired to coach their child. They are passionate about their kids, passionate about the sport, and their pride is wrapped up in that child's performance for better or worse.

Add to that parent passion the evolving world of sports where keeping the game moving, keeping it exciting, and making sure we stay on schedule has become the driving force for many referees. No referee wants to be known for making a JV game last two hours because s/he called a foul every time a player breathed in another player's direction. Basketball has turned into a full contact sport in many cases, and it is rare that a game goes by that someone doesn't sustain some type of injury. Few things bother a parent more than feeling like the adult in charge is turning a blind eye to their child's need for protection. Mama and Papa Bear instincts are strong, and if the designated adult won't do the job, right or wrong, the Bears feel like they need to step in and fulfill their God-given obligation to protect their offspring.

Recently, all of our local basketball parents received a letter from the athletic director reminding us of UIL rules regarding appropriate fan behavior and the consequences for inappropriate behavior. It was a blanket generic letter. There was no mention of specific incidents or examples of inappropriate behavior on the part of local parents, however, I suspect that a series of highly emotional ball games in which girls were injured and officials were seen as not doing their job adequately was the catalyst. I have missed most of these games because of my school schedule, thus most of my information is second hand from others who were in attendance.

I have been in attendance at a few games this year, and almost every game last year. I have to admit to being uncomfortable with some of the comments coming out of parents' mouths. One recent example was a parent who didn't like the way the referees were calling, so she proceeded to target a player on the other team (calling out her number) and told the girl she had just better watch it. I believe the opponent was assigned to guard her daughter. Her actions as a fan were totally out of line and inappropriate. There is absolutely no excuse for a parents to direct a verbal attack at the other teams' players. I was annoyed with myself for not having the courage to confront her about her actions.

Another incident I witnessed was almost humorous in retrospect, but really ignorant on the part of us parents. I say us, because I was probably involved in it, too. Same ballgame....we all looked up and there were six players on the court for the opposing team. All of the parents start yelling at the refs about the six players. If we had kept our mouths shut and let the ball be thrown in bounds, the other team would have received a technical foul and we would have had a chance to score two free throws. As it happened, our fans drew attention to the problem and the other team was able to remedy the situation before we got to benefit from it. Aren't we brilliant?!

Apparently there have been a number of other situations recently where local parents felt a strong need to help the refs control the game, or help the coach tell the girls what to do. This has earned us a bit of a reputation with other schools, which is sadly a poor reflection on our community. Such reputations make hiring quality coaches difficult and best and impossible at worst. No one in their right mind wants to work in a community where the parents run the show or even attempt to do so.

We all need to work on remembering that our job is to be our kid's cheerleader. Leave the yelling to the coach. If my kid needs to be yelled at, I can personally guarantee the coach will do it. My girl doesn't need me doing it, too. I need to be there to make everything okay. Too many of us have gotten our roles confused. It used to be that the coach did the tail chewing and parents picked up the emotional pieces. Today it seems as if many parents are doing the tail chewing and the coaches are trying to keep the emotional stability of each girl intact in spite of Mom and Dad. I for one have enough on my plate without adding coach and official to my job description. I think the same probably holds true for most everyone else.

With that said, it is time for me to turn the tables a bit. Remember, when it comes to yelling at the refs, that behavior is often triggered by a perception that the adult in charge isn't doing their job and Mama and Papa Bear need to protect their offspring. In most of the games where I have witnessed parents becoming highly vocal toward referees, there was a significant concern for the safety and well-being of the girls.

Parents sign a waiver to allow their child to participate in sports. While injury risk is an accepted part of participation, parents still have a right to expect a reasonable level of adult control. Allowing obviously dangerous and aggressive behaviors to go repeatedly uncalled on the court is not acceptable. Expecting parents to sit quietly while watching such negligence on the part of officials is equally unacceptable. Unfortunately we have entered an era when work ethic is sorely lacking in all career fields. Officiating is no exception. I have seen refs that take their job seriously, work hard four full quarters of a game, control the game, keep kids reasonably safe, and walk away with my praise and admiration. I have also seen refs who showed up, moved as little as possible while on the court, let all sorts of junk slide by unchecked, and then take their full pay for doing a half-bleep job.

I believe it is the obligation of school officials to notice when tensions are beginning to rise and take appropriate action to calm the concerns. If parents are that upset, then school officials should find out why and address the situation. If the game is being poorly controlled, parents have a right to expect school officials to take reasonable action to correct the situation. By the same token, parents need to seek out school officials and calmly address their concerns one-on-one rather than repeatedly screaming across a gym at the refs. If parents feel they can trust school officials to act in the best interest of their children, I believe most incidents of inappropriate fan behavior can be prevented.

It boils down to this: All parties are responsible for ensuring an enjoyable competition. No one group should be held totally accountable for all instances of misbehavior unless the incident is an isolated one. Yes, there is an occasional nutcase in the stands who needs to be shown the way out the door. For the most part, however, anytime there is group frustration, there is reason to look for the catalyst.

Parents, shut up. Show up to cheer on your kid, but quit trying to play coach and referee. If you want those jobs, apply and get hired. Our kids are literally laughing at our behaviors because we are absolutely absurd. Think I'm joking? Ask them. We are an embarrassment to them. Other parents need to buck up and start self-policing. If you see someone acting inappropriately at a game, have the courage to speak with them privately (not in the middle of the stands or in front of their kid) about your concerns. Part of the problem is we are laughing at and accepting each other's stupid behaviors instead of alienating that which is inappropriate.

Coaches, talk to your team parents. We are sometimes too dense to know what you've got going on. Should you have to tell us? Probably not, but we want to be involved, so get us on your side by keeping us in the loop. We've spent years being very instrumental in their sports career. It's hard for us to suddenly cease being in the know. We are the WHY generation, and we want and need to know why we should buy in to your way of doing things. Let us get inside your head just a bit. It makes it easier to walk a mile in your moccasins when things aren't going our way. Who are the parents who've got your back when things are a little rough? They are the ones you've been talking to on a regular basis.

Officials, do your job and do it well every single time. Police yourselves, and get rid of slackers. They give you a bad name. Yes, I know there is a shortage of willing officials, but there wouldn't be if everyone did the job fair and right. We are trusting our kids futures to your decision-making ability and willingness to control chaos. You would want nothing less for your own child. Keep the game in check and reasonably safe for our kids. And another thing....focus on the game and not on the stands. That's what our kids and coaches have to do. Be like a duck and let it roll off. You look just as stupid as the irrational fan when you engage them.

School Administrators, don't be afraid to find out why people are upset before you throw them out of a game. Communication is a good thing. We would like to feel we can trust you with the safety and best interest of our kids, so prove to us that you are worthy. Again, we are the WHY generation. "...because I know best..." doesn't fly with us. You have to honor that if you desire our respect. If you do not, we probably will not be pleasant people to deal with. Remember, they are OUR kids, not yours. We have entrusted them to you. Their presence improves your bottom line in most cases, and we do have choices.

Now, everybody shake hands and be nice.

Roller Coasters and Cool Cars

2008-11-29T07:35:00.015-06:00

Twenty years ago, I was on one of the most thrilling, yet nauseating roller coasters the world has ever known. I couldn't wait for it to come in for a landing. I was 20 years old and I was looking for love. I had a good thing going, but he wasn't committing to anything at that point, and I wasn't entirely through looking around at other options. As long as I was around him, my world spun with him as the axis. The problem was he lived in my hometown, and I kept having to leave to go back to the land of teenage college life. I guess you could compare it to test driving a ferrari then driving to the dealership to see what the Ford Focus was like.

He was definitely the ferrari. He was tall, slender, OMG good looking with long flowing brown hair, and AMAZING blue eyes. He played bass guitar in a band that actually did make some money. Words just can't desribe how incredible he looked when he dressed up for a gig. For that matter words can't describe how incredible he looked when wearing cutoffs and no shirt working in his yard. Yes, I said his yard...as in the grass outside of his house, which was the place he went home to after a day at his job, all three of those things being out of the reach of the guys at college.

I ached for his presence, but he wasn't desperate. Time was not that big a deal to him. He was 32 years old when I was 20 and he had never been married. I knew our relationship wasn't "supposed" to happen. After all, I was 20 years old, attending a Church of Christ college, and I didn't drink, smoke, do drugs, or even cuss (most of the time). He was 32 (29 when I started chasing him), Catholic, smoked, graduated in 1974 (should be enough said on the drugs thing), and knew words that I hadn't even heard of yet. He didn't open car doors, he certainly wasn't chasing after me, and yet I wanted him.....until I couldn't have him, then I wanted someone else until I could have him again. So went my rollercoaster until I graduated from that college and decided to come home. Then he decided to let me have all of his heart on January 14, 1990, and my rollercoaster shifted gears to something much more tolerable.

Fast forward 20 years. I didn't know when I had kids that I would once again be on that vicious rollercoaster with its stomach turning drops and heart pounding loop-de-loos. They forgot to write this part in the "Oh by the way..." section of the How to Raise a House Full of Girls manual. NOBODY TOLD ME I WOULD HAVE TO RIDE IT AGAIN, WITH EACH OF MY KIDS!!!!!

In a weird and twisted deja vue sort of thing, history seems to be repeating itself sort of. The similarities are uncanny, and if I can be grateful for anything, it is that I've been on this particular part of the roller coaster before...in the front seat. My oldest (yes, I'm just getting started back on the crazy ride) has had a fairly calm love life so far. There have been a few interests, but most were pretty short-lived, until this one. This one was different. This one was two kids that just sort of found each other by accident. This one was two kids who though different are alike in lots of ways. This one has been sort of "on" in some form or fashion for almost a year now.

This one has the background of being a country boy, but not just an ordinary country boy. He is a man's man. He knows what it means to work very hard. He has wrestled cattle to the ground as well as all-state linemen. He has picked and eaten black-eyed peas from the garden outside his "in-the-middle-of-nowhere" home. This one loves his mama, and yet he's no panty-waste Mama's Boy. It's been him and her facing the world since he was very little, which at 6'4" is hard to imagine.

He's the grandson of a retired small town Texas sheriff. My daughter is the granddaughter of a soon-to-be-retired small town Texas sheriff. They even did time together in preschool because he actually lived in our hometown when he was 4 years old. Most importantly, I felt like I could trust him with my little girl. He has always been a gentleman in our presence, and my daughter indicated he was a gentleman towards her, yet very much a normal 18 year old male.

Wednesday night, right before Thanksgiving, the roller coaster took a nose dive from a pretty high point. He called my daughter to tell her that after having a nice time with her over the weekend (we went for a college preview day at his college), he just couldn't see himself spending his life with her right now. He did, however, leave the door open for them to "hook back up" once she gets to college since she is planning to attend another school in the same town. It's just that he needs to test drive a few more models before making any decisions. I'm grateful that he's choosing to do this now at 18 instead of 20 years from now when he's approaching 40 and wonders what he could have had. However, they both carried me down that roller coaster drop with them as I held my baby while she cried. Glad she'll allow me to ride with her right now, but geez.....not fun!

After the tears, came the anger, then the crossing of "de Nile" into reality and acceptance. All in all, it has happened pretty quickly. My daughter knows she also needs to do a little more test driving and comparing models and she welcomes the opportunity. After all, when one shops around, one eventually finds something that has all of the most important features in one package. Sometimes shopping around lands you right back at the dealership where you started with the car to which you were first drawn.

Someone somewhere will end up with a couple of really incredible models. They won't come cheap, because one is a Ford F-350 King Ranch package, double cab truck, and the other is a sporty red BMW convertible. As a matter of fact, it will require a lifetime commitment to make the sale for either one. The former is strong, protective, hard-working, loyal, able to pull quite a load, and incredibly good looking. He may decide to play in the mud while out on a test drive, but he will still clean up well. The latter is beautiful, luxurious, sporty, incredibly fun, and made with amazing quality. She's keeping herself out of the hail storms so that she will have that totally new car appeal when it's time to go home with her man, and she will have quite a thrilling ride saved just for him.

Will these two end up in the same garage? Who knows. Impulse buys leave lots of room for regret. Lots of comparison shopping removes most of the doubt, and that takes time. One can never be guaranteed perfection, yet whoever gets these two will have a treasure of great value.

Fasten seat belts folks, the roller coaster is headed for another uphill climb. Ugh...there's the jerk of the cars grabbing ahold of the chain. That can only mean one thing......there's probably a stomach turning drop on the other side. Here we go again!

Pappy Moves On

2008-11-03T19:17:00.012-06:00

Our lives have been fairly calm and uneventful for awhile now. However, our family will soon encounter one of those bumps in the road that everyone bounces over from time to time. My granddad whom we have always called "Pappy" is letting us know it is time for him to release his hold on this life so he can experience the next. It's not major trauma, but it does bring some sadness and a bit of a rough spot on our life's journey.

As grandchildren go, my brother and I have not exactly been highly attentive in recent years. "Pappy" has spent several years in the local nursing home. We've certainly not visited him enough. There's no escaping that guilt. My brother can legitimately claim the "want to remember him like he was" excuse, and I cling tightly to the busy mom excuse. Nevertheless, we both knew it was time to say our goodbyes.

Andy was there first. I don't know what was going through his mind, but I have a feeling his few alone minutes were spent longing for what once was. You see, he and Pappy spent lots of time together when he was a kid. He was the first grandchild, and he was an all around boy. I truly believe Andy and my cousin Brit were the glue that held Pappy together through the deaths of two wives. Batchin' with a grandpa, huntin', fixin' some dinner, and cleanin' a few birds or rabbits was a young boy's paradise and a grandpa's pathway through grief.

When I arrived at Pappy's bedside, Andy stepped out for a moment to take a phone call, or maybe to give me some space. I love my Pappy very much, and yet my relationship with him is very different. He wasn't the granddad I snuggled with. His wasn't the house I cried to visit. None of that really matters, because I have so many incredible memories of the adventures my cousins and I encountered while in his care. I remember sliding down the wooden staircase on my backside over and over again. I remember him putting sugar on his tomato slices. I remember greasy bacon and runny fried eggs and the crystal salt and pepper shakers that flavored them. I remember Coke floats and cans of Hershey's Chocolate Syrup. I remember a single red rose for my birthday.

I can probably still recite the prayer he said before every meal. The exact words might take a bit to come back to me, but I can hear the inflection of his voice rise and fall as he asked the Almighty to bless our food. Oh, and I can remember a king sized bed that wasn't designed to be a trampoline, and when two energetic girls bounced once to much, he didn't make a fuss. I guess those two bricks stayed under the corner of that bed for years.

As Andy and I left the nursing home where Pappy lay sleeping, I saw the sadness weighing heavy on my brother. A piece of his childhood is slipping away and it is so very painful to watch it go. I drove off knowing that I needed some solitude to think, to question, and to process this experience. I also knew that somehow, I had to be a voice to allow Pappy to say some things that he desperately wanted to say to his family so his next journey could be light and easy. I'm guessing there are many who think this notion is pretty kooky, but then every family has to have one of us so the rest have someone to laugh at.

I began walking around the perimeter of the pasture. I felt pretty sure Pappy's spirit was already moving beyond the boundaries of his physical body. I don't believe God has a magic Spirit Straw that sucks a person's spirit out of their body at the precise moment of death. I think our spirits have opportunities to venture lots of places without our bodies throughout life if we allow the journey to occur. Pappy has been exploring more and more the past few weeks. He was certainly enjoying the cool evening breeze in the pasture as much as I was.

I felt a need to ask Pappy what he wanted to tell his family. His physical body is no longer able to speak to us, yet his spirit still has words and feelings to express. At that moment, I was overwhelmed with emotion for him that I had not previously experienced. There was no audible voice, no misty aparition, and no handwriting in the sky. There was only a flood of thought that engulfed me as I walked and as I cried. He filled me with his feelings and his words. He shared with me that which he wanted his family to know. He told me things that were sources of great sadness and those that have given him tremendous joy. If I had stopped at that moment to write down everything that he sent flooding through me, I would have been there all night. As it is, only the most important points have stuck with me now.

He wants his children to know that he loves them with all his heart, each one as much as the next one and he did the best he knew how to do. He also wants each of his grandchildren to know how special they are to him. To Brit and to Andy, you are his whole world. You have brought him so much pride and joy and you allowed him to be your hero. To Alisa and Angie, you are beautiful young women and he is so very proud of your accomplishments.

Even the longest of physical lives is much too short, and yet those whose paths we cross leave a series of indelible marks along our own journey, painting the roadway with their experiences for us to observe and use as we choose. As Pappy lets go of his physical body, we know in our hearts that his spiritual journey continues on through eternity, and we celebrate the experiences he shared with us along the way as well as those he will continue to share if only we open up to them.

Epilogue: Pappy passed away in the early morning hours of November 5th, 2008. The last thing I would wish for him is to rest in peace. Instead, my wish for him is wonderful spirit companions, beautiful wide open spaces, a body that feels young again, and wildlife surrounding him everywhere. I'm tempted to include a beautiful shotgun and an endless supply of ammunition, but I haven't quite figured out how that would work in the spirit world yet. :-) Enjoy enternity, Pappy.

How Would You Respond?

2008-10-22T06:44:00.005-05:00

A friend recently sent me an email forward where a preacher lady was proclaiming a coming famine to the United States. My friend asked me what I thought about the message. After checking the Snopes link in the message and pondering what was presented, I wrote my thoughts and sent them back to her. Then I realized that much of America is struggling with these same fears right now because of the economic doom and gloom being broadcast all over our airwaves. Here's what I said:

We attract what we believe in. If we believe deeply that a great famine is coming, then we will get one. If we believe just as intently that God is a God of abundance, then we will have and live in abundance. I'm going for the latter idea. There are many people in this country who are already living in famine and have been for years. Just as many live in abundance, and no matter how much they are taxed or donate to the poor, the poor stay poor, and the wealthy continue to generate wealth. It is a state of mind. I for one am wealthy beyond anything my parents could have imagined (although I think Dad believes he's pretty wealthy, too). I am sometimes a bit cash strapped, but we have always had a means to acquire what we need and usually what we want.

I have recently been drawn back to nature. Maybe it is mid-life realization that there is more to life than chasing rats in a rat-race. Or, maybe it is God's leading me in a direction that will allow him to provide for my family's needs much easier. I have a strong urge to grow my own food, and generate my own energy to supply my needs in a much smaller house than what I currently occupy. I want to be self sufficient. I believe God is giving me the tools I need to be successful in that area. I think He is showing me His nature through my spending time in nature.

I decided quite a while back that I wasn't going to play the panic card. I don't watch the news much if at all. Weather is about it. I hardly knew we had hurricanes coming earlier. While I don't intend to bury my head in the sand, I also choose not to worry about or stress over those things I cannot control. I am much happier that way.

I enjoy being challenged about what I think and believe. The older I get, the less solid some of my beliefs become. If anything, I'm solidly shiftable at this point. I realize that I don't know everything, and I am just now at a point in my life where I can hear God lead me and guide me. In other words, I am just now becoming teachable.

Where are you? If someone presents you with an idea that challenges your belief system, how do you respond? What do you believe about the future of America? Are you a future-builder or a doomsday predictor?

The One You Feed Wins

2008-10-08T07:26:00.003-05:00

This is an email forward I received from a dear friend. It is so in line with the point of my blog that I feel it should be included. Thanks for the gift, Randy.

One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, 'My son, the battle is between two 'wolves' inside us all.

One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.

The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.'

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: 'Which wolf wins?'

The old Cherokee simply replied, 'The one you feed.'

More Revelations

2008-10-06T06:17:00.001-05:00

Yesterday was simply amazing. After a 4+ week hiatus from attending any church service of any kind, I decided it was time to go back. After all, the guy with the South African accent, John Sheasby, was supposed to be at church, and he's always got something off the wall to say. I decided it was time for a return, and I was not disappointed.

I went expecting. Actually I had directed God to let his message be a sign for me that would give me some piece of confirmation, information, direction, or whatever as to what is going on in my head and with my desires. Let me repeat, I wasn't disappointed.

I don't usually remember the details of his messages. I just absorb them into my soul. His interpretations of the scriptures, which are so fresh and different from ANYTHING with which I grew up, stick with me and resurface when I need them.

I do remember last night's service, though. He began talking about sowing seed and how the farmer doesn't DO anything to make the seed grow. It either grows or it doesn't, all by itself. No elaborate plan or scheme to help the seed get out of the ground as a plant. From that, we made our way to the story of Jesus calming the storm, but he didn't follow the usual preacher path into how if we trust Jesus he will calm all our life's storms. He said (I'm paraphrasing into redneck) that if the know-it-all fisherman boys would have ASKED Jesus how he wished to get to the other side instead of ASS-U-ME-ing Jesus intended to cross in a boat, then maybe they would have ALL walked on water and there wouldn't have been a boat on the sea in a storm with all the fear and nausea that entails.

Then he mentioned Abraham's boat. What??? Abraham didn't have a boat! Yeah...he did. He and Sarah didn't believe God was capable of giving them the promised son, so they "built a boat" of sorts when Sarah offered and Abraham agreed to "plant that seed" in Hagar. That boat was essentially a shipwreck waiting to happen, and only after it wrecked did Abraham agree to trust God and walk on water.

I was pretty excited. I got the message loud and clear. I knew I had used the walking on water metaphor as part of my recurring dream interpretation. (And by the way, I have not had that dream since discovering its meaning.) I also realized that I have been as nervous as a cat in a dog pound as to what I will do to continue to provide a secure future for my family. I have been searching for boats (forget building one--I was willing to get a ready made). Yet God had plainly told me that I was about to walk on water--or something less wet, but just as capable of swalling me and suffocating me. After all, this IS West Texas, and there isn't much water to walk on.

I left the meeting in awe of HIS power and mine. I came home and told my husband that I knew God had been pushing me out of my comfort zone for some time. He's been preparing me to walk away. He has told me this year will be my last year in my current position. Last night He told me that I don't need to worry about how it will happen. When the time is right, He will reveal the water and together we will walk across to the other side. Quite honestly, that's exactly how every job I've ever had has come my way. I have never had to go after a job. My current job was created specifically with me in mind. It didn't exist before me. Other jobs have come when I wasn't looking or when I was looking in a different direction.

Last night, I had a slightly different dream. My bed was back on the edge of the cesspool/sinkhole thingy, but this time the old barn that covers the hole was partially torn down. Once again I had to arouse myself enough to remind myself that God had promised this would not cave in. Every step I took in that dream was ever so cautious. Over and over I reminded myself that He said it will not cave in. Together, we were tearing down that old barn that had surrounded the cesspool. Parts are still standing, but much is now gone from the original structure that was in my previous dream. Everywhere the structure had been removed, my faith in the solidness of where I was standing grew stronger.

When I awoke this morning, I asked for the meaning of the "tearing down" part. What He revealed to me was, "I am tearing down what makes this appear to be shaky ground."

Interestingly enough, my husband and I have just completed the demolition and removal of an old leaning garage off of a piece of property God has recently given to us. The walls are down, the trash is pretty much gone, and a solid piece of concrete is all that remains. I wonder what the connection might be? I bet He will tell me at the perfect time.

A Message to Boys Who Date My Daughter

2008-10-05T16:05:00.000-05:00

I've been blessed. My oldest daughter postponed the boy thing longer than some do. The upside to that is the emotional roller coaster hasn't had quite as many stomach turning drops so far. The downside is that in a few months, she will be out on her own and I will be lucky (or not so much) if I am allowed to be witness to any more of it.

There are all kinds of books on marriage and relationships, but I don't know if there is anything that explains to a young man how to get and keep the attention of my girl. You see, she's special. She's been given some amazing gifts in her life, and such a treasure needs a special kind of guy. Most guys won't be able to deal with her special gifts, but the few who can will be blessed beyond belief.

Gift #1: She's a good friend to guys. She may be madly in love with you, but she's still going to need guy friends. You need to be one of them, and you need to be okay with her having other guy friends. Neither she nor I enjoy the company of other females all that much. We create enough drama all by ourselves, and having a bunch of other females in the mix makes things too irritating. Don't be jealous. Treat her well enough that you don't have to worry about being jealous. Because....

Gift #2: She's very loyal. If you choose to be exclusively hers, she will be yours and totally yours. It runs in the family. Her daddy and her uncles are extremely loyal to their spouses. I call them the golden retrievers. They are so good to their women. It's not a weird possessive sort of thing. It's a healthy, sweet, trusting, nurturing sort of thing. But even a golden retriever needs some attention. My girl doesn't require an extraordinary amount of attention, but she needs to be reminded that you care, and she needs to be reminded more than once a month. It doesn't take much: a text message, a phone call, a note on Facebook. The problem comes when she doesn't hear from you for several days. She gets nervous and thinks you've dropped her and didn't have the guts to tell her. Then she gets miserable, but she's still obligated to be loyal. Oh, and when she's miserable, the rest of us are miserable, too. Keep the misery to a minimun. Remind her often that you are still interested in her. If you like her, let her know. Don't set her free if you still want her. That causes lots of confusion and hard feelings when none were intended. Do what you need to do to let her know she is special to you.

Gift #3: She has a compassionate healing spirit. People are attracted to her because they need her healing qualities. She's gone through the trauma of death with several of her friends, both guys and girls. She has seen friends through the deaths of parents (three times), siblings (once), and grandparents (twice). She was 11 years old the first time she had the opportunity to support a close friend through such a trying time. She has an amazing ability to be there for them through all the weirdness they have to endure when a loved one dies, and she converses and supports them while they grieve. She doesn't get to choose whether it is a guy or a girl who needs her, so you have to have enough faith in your relationship with her to give her the space to do what she needs to do without being jealous.

Gift #4: She is fairly patient when it comes to guys. Some girls are very needy and in a hurry. They are boy crazy from an early age and desperately need someone to love them. Not my girl. She makes friends easily with guys. She appreciates a really awesome guy, but she isn't desperate. She is saving herself for the right one. She has a special gift that only one guy can be given. Most of her friends have already given their gift away to someone who may or may not be their life partner. Not my girl. She is holding on to the special gift a little longer, waiting for the one who will travel with her through life. I am trusting that she will find someone who has a similar special gift to share with her. It's not easy these days to hold on to that gift, but it is so worth it.

Gift #5: She is so amazingly smart and talented. No need to run off ALL the time with the guys. If you want to play football, she's not afraid to play. If you rope, she'll ask you to teach her how to rope. If you play in a band, she's got an amazing voice and will enjoy being a part of your hobbies. If you do something she can't do, she will be your fanclub and cheerleader standing on the sidelines. In return, show her that you value those things she enjoys. Know what her volleyball schedule is and call her after a game to see how they did. Know what her role is in the One Act Play and show up to a performance, or at least call before the performance to tell her "break a leg!"

Gift #6: She has amazing self confidence. It can be somewhat intimidating. We have raised her that she can do anything she sets her mind to do. She needs a young man who is equally confident. She doesn't need someone who is arrogant, but she needs you to be secure in yourself. She doesn't need someone who doesn't feel they are worthy of her. If she is giving you her time and attention, you are worthy. If that changes, she will let you know. She's straight up, so don't degrade yourself by saying she's too good for you. She will let you know if that's the case.

There are so many more gifts wrapped up in this amazing young woman. Her dad and I are so proud to be her parents. If you choose to be a part of her life, even for a short time, you will be forever changed. She will leave a part of herself with you that will help set the standard for the qualities you seek in the person with whom you eventually choose to spend your life. While you are a part of my girl's life, enjoy the ride, be the best man you can be, love her tenderly (but keep it clothed!), and should you decide she is the one and only girl for you, remember it is a lifetime commitment.

Lessons from Laryngitis

2008-10-05T07:04:00.000-05:00

This is one of the longest bouts of laryngitis I have ever had. It has been four full days and I have that feeling in my throat this morning that suggests day five is in the works. Strangely enough, I'm okay with it, because it has given me so much more time to listen. There are some very deep life lessons to be learned when a person who is a talker has some forced listening time.
I have a neat little book by Louise Hay called Heal Your Body. It lists a number of physical ailments and the negative thought processes that MAY contribute to a person acquiring that condition. When I looked up laryngitis and the related symptoms, it indicates, "...so mad you can't speak...fear of speaking up...resentment of authority."

I am not convinced that my temporary condition is the result of being mad. I have, however, always had a fear of speaking to authority figures, and along with that, possibly some resentment of those who would attempt to exercise their authority over me. I don't like being told "NO." You may have even noticed in a previous post that my ideal work situation eliminates most authority people from my life. I also don't like to be told something won't work, especially when the person hearing me hasn't read or studied the subject matter at all.

I have always chosen to question authority. "...because I said so," has never been a sufficient answer for me. My parents figured out early on that telling me I couldn't do something was an open invitation for me to find a way to do it anyway. In many ways that has served me well. In others, it has resulted in pain, usually initiated by someone whom I had granted authority over me. I say "granted" because I now realize that I am the only being who has authority over me. My choices in life (religious affiliation, employment, hobbies, kids activities) occasionally hand that authority over to others, voluntarily, of course.

The last time I had laryngitis this significant, it was a recurring cycle. I had just begun to work for a man whom I thought would listen and work with me. I very quickly found out that listening or even hearing ME was not within his ability when it conflicted with his ideas. He also proved to be a man who would tell me one thing, then change his mind and indicate he never said it in the first place. I revisited the laryngitis symptoms 5 times in as many months that year.

As for my current physical symptoms, I think they are the result of an accumulation of thoughts and attitudes that I am beginning to recognize. My frustration with my current employment situation is due in part to the fact that I am held responsible for many things, and yet I feel as though I have limited power to make anything happen. It makes me wonder if in fact my power is limited by the authority figures, or if I am limiting myself because of my unwillingness to speak to authority figures with courage, confidence and power.

Recognizing the power I do possess is a strong first step. I am also learning that I can control the process and outcomes of my encounters with authority by planning them out ahead of time and making known to God what I expect as a response. I am extremely valuable to those people and while I realize I am not irreplaceable, I also realize that it would be extremely difficult for someone to step into my shoes and pick up what I leave behind.

No matter what career path I choose to travel, there will always be people along that path to whom I grant some level of authority over me, even if I am self-employed. In the future, I can relax when in the presence of authority figures knowing that I ultimately hold the power and I direct the outcomes of any encounter. I will approach them with confidence and know I will be heard and my input honored and acted upon.

Laryngitis, the lesson has been learned. It is time for you to go back where you came from. Quoting from Louise Hay's little book, "I am free to ask for what I want. I am safe to express myself. I am at peace."

What To Do?

2008-10-01T06:59:00.000-05:00

You have probably gathered from my previous posts that I am at a point where a career change would be welcome. Don't get me wrong. I have a very good job and I work with terrific people. However, I have a wandering spirit that occasionally needs to feed from a different trough for awhile.

I've been reading materials for a few years now on having a positive mindset, putting my goals out there, and having a vision for what I want. I know this works. I've watched it happen over and over in my life. I've had two very strong experiences within this past month. The downside to this whole positive mindset thing is that most of these people seem to be implying that I might have to do some work or step out of my comfort zone to manifest my first million. Darn! I really would prefer that it show up on my doorstep or that the dog drags up a package with my name and address on it containing that first million. And yet, if I must actually work for my million, I certainly would prefer that my work feel like play.

I asked myself what that would look like. It seems I have had a challenge when it comes to pinpointing what I want to be when I grow up this time. (And no, that's not a reincarnation statement. I thought I grew up 10 years ago, but apparently I am still growing.)

So what will it be? I have created a list of characteristics of my ideal way to spend my days earning money.

1. I set the dress code. Jeans and a t-shirt are very appropriate, however, there are occasional times when dressing up is a nice thing to do.

2. I can come and go as I please. No one will be watching over me to make sure I didn't skip out on five minutes of work.

3. I am not irreplaceable, and yet, I get to decide if and when I wish to be replaced either temporarily or permanently.

4. The government doesn't dictate, mandate, or negotiate much if anything related to what I do.

5. I can take as much or as little time as I want to be with my husband and/or kids, to travel, to read, to continue learning new things, etc.

6. I get to see people when I choose to see people, and yet, it isn't a requirement of the workday.

7. I am not responsible for the accomplishments and behaviors of anyone else.

8. I am invited to share what I do with others through presentations and conferences, much of which is paid for with magic money that I don't have to produce.

9. I get to spend a large part of my time working on projects with my husband.

10. I can be outside when it is nice and indoors when it is environmentally less than ideal.

11. My income far exceeds what I am currently taking in.

12. My kids think my career is way cool and I do, too.

13. My career involves agriculture and nature working in harmony.

14. My career includes promoting alternative health, wellness, and self-improvement.

Do you have any suggestions about what this career might be called?

Eternal Beings

2008-09-30T11:13:00.000-05:00

Here's something to generate some controversy. Think very carefully about what you say before you post a response. No religious-induced knee-jerk reactions allowed.

1. Quantum physics says that when we get to the smallest particles, everything is vibration and energy.

2. Most Christians have a belief that they are eternal beings, ie. after we pass on, we will live forever either in paradise or torment of some kind.

3. Jesus, who is our spiritual brother, and whose Father we've been made in the image of (great grammar), was supposedly an eternal spirit before he was flesh.

Here's the kicker:
If we are made in the image of God, if Jesus is our brother, if the basic building blocks of everything can be neither created nor destroyed, is it possible that we, too existed in spirit form before coming to earth to live in human flesh? Do we choose to live as humans from time to time? Do we choose into which family we will be born?

Remember that Adam's body was created from the dust of the earth and God breathed into him the breath of life. What was that breath? Could it have been God sending forth an already existing spirit being into a fleshly host?

Yes, I know what I am suggesting in that question. Throw out all prejudices and fears about other world religions and just think about the possibilities for a moment. Does God create a new spirit being everytime a sperm and egg come together, or is it possible those spirit beings already exist and choose as Jesus did to come back to earth, live in a human body for a time, and grow spiritually more mature as a result of the lessons in which they participate while human?

It really doesn't matter, and yet by thinking about these types of possibilities, we exercise and expand our sometimes narrow-minded views of this awe-inspiring entity we call God and Father. We say we believe that God has amazing power, and yet, even though we were promised we would do things just as amazing, most of us refuse to claim that power. Those who do claim that power are assigned labels like "went off the deep end", "is into that New Age stuff", " is lost", "charismatic", "weirdo", etc.

It's kind of like lobsters in a bucket. When one begins to reach for something better, higher, greater, the rest who don't have a vision of the amazing light at the top grab the ankles of the climbers and attempt to pull them back down to the "dark reality" of the bucket bottom. As long as we're all lobsters in the same bucket, everyone is ignorantly happy.

As individuals seek out and claim their promised eternal greatness and power, they become a threat to the leadership of status quo. If all the lobsters start climbing out of the bucket, no one remains to pay for the pet projects of the leadership. I for one choose to claim my promise and put it to use.

Are those who call themselves "The Church" climbers or ankle biters?

Solid Ground--Interpreting Dreams

2008-09-24T07:17:00.000-05:00

I have had a recurring dream for months....possibly years. It's very stressful and interferes with my sleep. In this dream I am in bed, but my bed is perched precariously on top of something that I've been told will cave in if I stand on it. It might be an old basement, cesspool, or something else akin to a sinkhole that could collapse at any moment. There's another dream where my bed is under a rickety ceiling fan that is flying at top speed and threatens to fly off right on top of me.

Last night, I managed to awaken myself, get out of bed, get my bearings and realize that I was safe and always have been. I crawled back in bed, fell asleep, and promptly began having the dream again. This time I kept consciously pulling myself back to the notion that I was at home safe on solid ground in my nice cozy bed.

The aha moment came this morning in the shower when I finally connected with the meaning of my dream. There are so many things I want to do in my life. I want my life to be full of fun doing things that bring joy and purpose to me. My current situation used to bring me lots of joy and purpose, and going to work was fun.

Unfortunately my energy has shifted so that it seems more like a sick game I play. It has become a series of mundane and frustrating tasks that must be performed to keep so-called
authorities at bay and protect "us" from being "dinged" or "tagged" as low-performing. It is a task that requires me to attempt to control other people in ways they do not want to be controlled. I am making a conscious effort to be grateful and see the positives of my role, and yet if find myself desperately searching for an escape.

And now back to the dreams...I have ideas about what I'd like to do. I have a vision for something I believe would rekindle my sense of fun work. There are many signs that suggest I should step out in faith and follow my passion, and yet, there are many people who suggest that doing so would be foolish and unsafe. They suggest stepping out would be akin to stepping on that cesspool/sinkhole. It would bury me, my family, and my dreams.

Yet in every one of my dreams, the bed never gets swallowed up. The rickety fan never falls on top of me. The world doesn't come to an end because I stepped on the supposed sinkhole, and even slept on it with heavy furniture. I just do so with a panicky nervous agitation, afraid that at any moment all will collapse and swallow me up. But it won't.

I realize that I am an eternal being. I have a Father who wants me to be happy and full of joy. He allows me to ask and it will be given. He does not want me to feel frustrated and agitated all the time. He has given me the opportunity to fulfill many purposes in my life and to learn many lessons. He showed me that my brothers can walk on water. One of them, Peter, got nervous and started to go under, but Big Brother was there to strengthen his faith and together they walked to the shoreline. If they can walk on water, then I can step out on what appears to be a sinkhole and trust that I am on solid ground, because I will be holding my Father's hand...even if everyone else says I'm going to sink.

"And I've got a peaceful, easy feelin', and I know You won't let me down, 'cause I'm already standin' on solid ground."

Vision

2008-09-11T20:15:00.000-05:00

I learned this weekend that vision is 4% eyes and 96% brain and other resources. Wow. If that's the case, why do I spend so much money on glasses to correct my eyes? Maybe I should spend my money on a psychologist or educational kinesiologist working on my brain?

And so I did. A good friend and I went to Albuquerque, NM to spend time under the guidance of an educational kinesiologist for 3 days. We had a blast. The people who came together for the weekend were very supportive in working with each other to achieve both physical vision and inner vision.

Could there really be a connection between the lack of clarity in my vision, and the lack of clarity for my destiny? Could my need for artificial correction to achieve distance vision clarity be related to a desperate need to know every last detail about what the future holds before I can move forward in life with confidence? Wow that was a mouthful.

I watched my third daughter drastically improve her reading skills by looking at colored light daily for most of 4 months in order to build new neural pathways in the brain. Her personality blossomed, her test scores jumped dramatically, and her stress level dropped radically. Yes, some correction was and remains necessary, and yet, she does not need the strong correction with which she was originally fitted.

What makes some people embrace alternative methods while others cling to modern medicine? Why do some scoff at the idea that movement and pressure points might be a cure for visual stress? Maybe it's a lack of "vision".

What Are You Feeding

2007-12-05T06:51:00.001-06:00

I have arrived at a point in my life where I believe those little hunches, the whisperings in my head, and those powerful AHA moments are the Holy Spirit speaking to me. If that's more than my readers can swallow, then feel free to think of the following as one of the previous rather than the latter.

My attention has been almost forcibly drawn lately to the controversy surrounding the book series and movie entitled The Golden Compass. It seems lots of people who claim the title Christian are up in arms and protesting this movie because of its atheistic roots and uncomfortable ending. There have been emails by the droves being forwarded about how horrible this movie is and how I shouldn't let my kids watch it. I haven't seen the movie nor read the books, so I have no idea what it is about other than from the feedback of those forwards.

I have, however, during the course of my life watched and even participated to some extent in repeated boycottings and protests of things that conflict with many Christian principals. I remember the big deal when Dynasty first hit the airwaves. We all boycotted Proctor and Gamble which inflicted significant pain on me (no Jello for a 10 year old) but little on P&G.

From what I can tell, all that boycotting and protesting was less than successful at achieving the ultimate goal. The trash on TV is worse than ever 20 years later (can you say Desperate Housewives?) Oh, yes, there are always some small victories in the favor of Christians, yet I believe we do more harm than good when we draw attention to and unwittingly promote that which we seek to destroy. We put all of our thought energy and our physical effort toward seeking to attack and banish something we don't like.

Here's is a basic science lesson. Sounds a bit like that New Age stuff, but it is basic science. When we think a thought, there are chemical reactions that occur in our bodies. There are electrons that fire and do their thing in our cells, and electric signals are sent throughout our bodies that affect several organs and systems in our bodies. That electrical energy never stays totally contained in our bodies. It radiates out from us. Science has measured the electromagnetic field of the heart 16 feet from the body, and it only stopped their because that's as far as the test equipment was capable of measuring. If prayer is as powerful as Christians claim it is, then that same power of thought and spoken word would apply to most any thought or expression pursued earnestly.

If thoughts have energy, why in the world would someone want to "feed" energy into that which they dislike or disagree with? If God is the supreme power in all the universe, then he is quite capable of handling those things which do not fit his desires for humanity if he so chooses.

I tend to think of God as a polite, loving father rather than a demanding, bossy, controlling one. He waits for his children to ask of him before intruding into their affairs. If in fact he is the supreme power of the universe, and if in fact our thoughts, words, and actions have powerful attracting energy in them, wouldn't it make more sense to spend our time and energy praising God and reminding him of his power and feeding his power (not that he needs it, but even God likes to be told that we love and adore him)?That would in turn send out positive energy which attracts good things into our lives rather than nurture anger and bitterness and hatred toward what we don't want. Doing so serves to further promote and publicize that which we dislike while attracting negative energy back to our own lives?

Remember the saying, "Whatsoever a man thinketh, so is he." If we spend our time and energy thinking and acting on that which we do not want, we will get it. If we spend our time and energy thinking and acting on that which we do want, it likewise will be ours. Dwell on what you do want, not what you don't want.

New Age Christianity

2007-12-04T06:54:00.000-06:00

Did you ever wonder why "churchy" people get so freaked out by anything new age? I used to be one of those churchy people who thought new age stuff was of the devil. Then one day God opened a door that changed my life as I walked through it step by step. The churchy people tend to think it was an act of Satan, but here's the caveat: Satan isn't capable of doing good, and many good things have come about as a result of this change in my life.

First of all, what is New Age? Wikipedia has some interesting thoughts, but apparently New Age is kind of tough to define. It encompasses a lot of things, some of which I don't agree with. That's okay. I don't have to agree with everything and everybody everytime I encounter something to benefit from it's offerings. I had a preacher during my churchy days that used to say, "Eat the meat and leave the bones." In other words, take the good stuff and ignore that which is a little tough to swallow.

The good stuff is the part of New Age that says you become what you think about and focus on. Gee....if that is such a bad thing, then I guess once again, Jesus doesn't fit in with the churchy people. Jesus was, after all, the epitomy of new age. He hung out with a bunch of guys kind of commune-style. He wore those funky toga-like things and sandals. He talked about energy leaving his body (see woman with issue of blood story), and my personal favorite, that part during his sermon on the mount where he tells people that whatever think in their heart is who and what they are.

Then there is all that stuff about faith to move mountains, and that story about dead dudes and Jesus being transfigured. What was that if it wasn't New Age? Sounds like some energetic spirits making themselves visible. Oh, yeah, right....according to churchy types, that was a miracle from God to show the apostles Jesus power and authority. Besides, God doesn't need to do that sort of stuff anymore. He's got nothing left to prove and no one left to convince. Yeah, right. Anyone seen the news lately?

And that part where he told people they and their sons and daughters would do greater things than even He did......I want some of that. Sounds pretty new age to me.

Did Jesus worship stars or bow before a statue? No, not that I am aware of. Did he teach people about nature and lessons to be learned from its cycles? Yep. Did he talk about attitude and heart and passion? Was he into healing and the power of thought and mind over matter (calming the sea)? Uh-huh. Jesus was New Age before New Age existed. Maybe we aren't truly "Christ"ian unless we are a little New Age.

Put that in a 1970's era bong and smoke on it for awhile. :-)

Tulia Tornado

2007-06-14T13:42:00.000-05:00

Google Adventures

2007-06-14T08:12:00.000-05:00

In about 45 minutes, I will attempt to teach others about something I am just beginning to learn. I lead some really amazing people in something called staff development. No, it isn't a production line for shephard crooks. It is a means of growing teachers into a new way of facilitating student instruction. And about that word "facilitating"......I like that because it means I don't have to be the expert. I simply have to lead others to the water and guide them in discovering some neat tools. I think too often we expect teachers to be total experts in all areas. That sets them up for failure where technology in education is concerned. I would prefer someone show me what's available then get out of my way so I can take it and run. I think that is what our students prefer. They want guidance, but they also want to show us what they can do above and beyond what we teach them....at least where technology is concerned.

Not many academic subjects can boast that kind of engagement. How many over-achievers are there in a World History or English III class? Most kids will do only what the instructor demands of them and no more. When technology is thrown into the mix, some students will knock our socks off with the quality of products they create.

Today we are covering the neat tools Google has made available to teachers (and the rest of the world) for free. They include Google Earth, Google Maps, Google News, Blogger, Docs and Spreadsheets, Picasa, Google Groups, SketchUp, and iGoogle.

By the way, I kind of like iGoogle. That customization of my homepage is really neat.

Forty minutes to go. Guess I'd better head that way.

Dreams and Schemes

2007-06-14T08:03:00.000-05:00

Every day brings a new perspective to my daily routine. Kids, husband, parents, and siblings all give me a reason to look for new ways to accomplish our heart's desire.

Take my latest scheme for example. One of my children has taken to horseback riding like a duck to water. I can blame that on my big brother who "saw" something in her interactions with other animals. Being a "good" parent, I want to encourage the talents and interests of all my children, of which there are four. We now own a horse, travel to horse shows in the region, and are looking for a way to put the horse and the rider in the same general living space. Right now, Uncle Andy has horse custody, but riding once every two to three weeks doesn't lend itself to making a great rider.

Options are surfacing. We'll see where this goes.