Artizen's Odyssey Home

What's Up? Where ya been Gonzo?

2012-01-29T17:51:00.000-08:00

Gonzo? Gonzo! Do I look like Gonzo?
(Oh God, I hope not! (although probably) Latest reference to the Gonzo joke. "Boo" now is into the Muppet Show. I bought him season two for his birthday. "Boo" is now ten years old.)

All joking aside. What's been up lately? Where's she been? Dropped off the face of the earth?
(Maybe?)

Been busy certainly. I'd started another post "Holy Homeschoolers Batman - this is a lot of work!" but decided not to publish it - or at least maybe not yet. Any how - yes, I've been homeschooling since Christmas break. (Long story, (staffing issues) which I may share at some point.) Needless to say, this has put a "cramp" in my own attempts to get back and complete school. But, like I'd said when "Boo" was born. I've got the rest of my life to finish college; I've only got the here and now to raise my child.

So, outside of the "business" of this; I've been trying to complete my story "Gates of Hell". I'd managed to get two chapters up by the end of December and my most recent one is half done; but still, life's been more busy than I'd really like it to be at this time.

So, to those who've been wondering what happened to me - that's been a big part of it lately. My goal is to get Boo to bed earlier, so I can get some of this other stuff done. And I promise (if not mostly to myself) I'll write a little post on homeschooling.

PS. Ahavah - Noticed you're missing from the "Blog followers" - hope you're OK dear.

Progress

2011-12-14T11:23:00.000-08:00

Bathroom in transition.
Gotta get the curtains back up!

Looking good though!

Next - the living room!

Got a new rocker - (it's now our "computer chair"

Paint the door, put up the tree!

(minus the ladder of course)

Now the kitchen!

Some of the new additions to the "furniture family".

(And that door got painted too!)

Now of course we can't forget the Lego projects. They're always a work in progress.

Paint makes a big difference!

Second half of the kitchen. Got my spoon rack up, some of my plates.

On the right hand side is the down stairs hall. I'm going to paint it a nice moss green and with the pictures - think it'll look great.

Upstairs hall.

"Dr. Spookey" makes a great temporary door stop to one of the upstairs bedrooms.

What was going to be a "drawing room" turned into an upstairs bedroom.

Boo has since thus taken up residency in here. Eventually, we'll turn his room into the "drawing room". (When he gets too big for his bed - that is.)

Last but not least - my room!

I plan on painting it a dusty rose pink. I think that will set off the white comforter and ceiling well.

It's slowly coming together. Got other stuff to do still, but I'm quite happy with it; (and proud of my painting abilities without getting paint on the carpet!)

Yeah for me!

Celebrating a Milestone!

2011-12-14T07:49:00.000-08:00

I finished one semester at SUNY Geneseo!

Yeah for me!

I know that seems kind of strange. I've attended other schools without any problems, but SUNY Geneseo and I have an interesting past. I'd first attended there as a transfer from Monroe Community College in the spring of 1998. I'd never completed the semester though, because I'd ended up being hospitalized for depression. After the hospitalization, I'd dropped out of college for about 18 months and than returned to MCC and finished up my associates degree. I graduated from there in 2000.

Post MCC, my plans had been to go to Cornell for Landscape Architecture. I'd been accepted, had all my ducks in a row and we were getting ready to move. I was just awaiting my financial aid to go through. I didn't foresee any problems, I had several resources at my disposal and than I found out I was pregnant. Well, I'd put my application on hold for a year, than mom died and all proverbial hell broke loose. Cornell got put off indefinitely.

So here I am 13 years later, sort of back where I started. Kind of, sort of, but not really; (back where I started). Thirteen years ago though, I didn't have a house, a child or a pair of crutches. This semester hasn't been bad. I took two classes and I'm registered for three classes next semester. I got my final exams tomorrow; Intro to Psych Stats - bright and early, 8 AM (oh goody) and Geography of the Developing World - noon.

School hasn't been too bad. It's taken a little getting back into the swing. Eleven years is a long time to be out of "the learning loop" so to speak. I'm just starting to get the hang of stuff and the semester is over. The Geography of the Developing World, I have no doubt I'm going to get a good grade in. I'm hovering somewhere around a B and if I do real good on the final; it'll be a B+. The Intro to Psych Stats - well, we'll see what happens there. I've struggled through that class the entire semester and I've been praying that God help me pass this one. I don't really want to have to take it over again; but if I do, I'll go with a different professor. Not that I disliked the one that I had. His tests are worded funny though.

Any ways; I'm looking forward to Christmas break. I'm going to spend it painting rooms, hallways and putting up boarders. I bought all the paint back when my settlement money came in and just haven't gotten to coloring all the walls. I did put up Christmas lights for our town's holiday celebration. Got some new additions to my "furniture family", plus one new addition to our "creatures made by God" family.

The four legged furry kind you know.

The cat's name is Schnuckerdoodle.

She's a black and white medium hair domestic.

A product of "kitty direct". Direct from the local animal shelter that is.

The Lord of Love and Head Lice!

2011-09-05T19:23:00.000-07:00

Hum, this is a complicated one. Where to start this post?
(Warning - this is going to be a long one!)
Alright, here we go. This isn’t going to make sense at first; but you’ll understand later why I’ve set this "skit" up the way I have.

Narrator: "Hello, my name is Annie Oakly."
       Annie Oakly - rootin tootin no-nonsense type of cow-girl with a rather unique wardrobe.
      Yeah, that’s me!

Enter stage right:
Anakin Skywalker - Anyone who’s watched all the Star Wars movies knows Anakin is a complicated character. He starts out as a slave and his life is filled with all sorts of tragedy. His mother is murdered by these little sand people called "Jawah" and his wife later dies; (in part caused by his own doing). He is somewhat of a sympathetic character, except for this diabolical streak he has. He later turns to the dark side and becomes Darth Vader.

"Anakin" is about 40 years old. He claims to have some sort of hearing impairment; but I’m not sure how severe it really is. He states it prevents him from getting a job; but I’m not inclined to believe that either, because the friend of mine who took care of Casper (the friendly ghost) while I was in the clone trooper medical facility, is a college professor and she’s deaf as a door post!

Anyways, Anakin is filled with hatred. Anakin particularly seems to dislike women. He complains constantly about how the empire’s public welfare system is prejudice against him. He can’t get what he needs, because the system "favors" women. He also claims his "ex-wife" (there’s question as to whether or not they were actually married) takes all his money in "back child support". Than in all of this, no matter how you slice the cake - Chancellor Palpatine is the cause of all his woes.

Now Anakin has two children. He’s had these kids for 6 years now; which, in the case of the youngest is longer than the mother has had the child. He claims financial hardship is the reason he has trouble feeding and clothing his kids. He tells these children he only gets 700 credits a month in Empire Disability. (He told me the same thing and than admitted that he gets Supplemental Empire Disability for one child and Empire dependent credits for both of them.) Now I know exactly how much money Anakin is taking in, because this rootin tootin cowgirl is in the same system. That’s what happens when your horse gets hit by a star fighter. Real bad news; but anyways. Point of the story is - Ol’ Annie Oakly here can adequately feed and clothe her child on this income; so what’s up with Anakin?

But than again; there appears to be evidence that "Anakin" has alcohol and nicotine addiction issues.

Next, enter stage left:
Betty Boop - Now what’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think of a cartoon Marilyn Monroe? Betty Boop of course. Now granted, my perception of Marilyn Monroe mostly comes out of a singing Jedi Knight’s (Sir Elton John) Song "Candle in the Wind".

"Goodbye Norma Jean, though I never knew you at all;
you had the grace to hold yourself, while those around you crawl.
They crawled out of the woodwork, and whispered into your brain;
They set you on a treadmill, and they made you change your name."

"Seems to me, you lived your life like a candle in the wind;
Never knowing who to cling to when the rain set in.
I would have liked to have known you, but I was just a kid;
your candle burned out long before, your legend ever did."

"Loneliness is tough, the toughest role you ever played;
Hollywood created a superstar, but pain was the price you paid.
Even when you died, all the press still hounded you;
all the papers had to say, was that Marilyn was found in the nude."

"Goodbye Norma Jean, from the young man in the 22^nd row;
who sees you as something more than sexual, more than just our Marilyn Monroe."

Now Betty Boop is 14 years old and just like Marilyn Monroe, has certainly had her share of men in her life who were interested in little else than what they could get out of her for their own selfish "needs". Is Anakin one of the men who could be added to that list? Annie Oakly here believes it’s possible; (Betty has Stockholm Syndrome awfully bad) but the investigators of the Empire’s child services division have never pinpointed anything of that nature. (Many founded allegations of neglect though.)

So sadly, just like Marilyn; Betty Boop doesn’t know "who to cling to when the rain sets in". She has no real sense of self and just bleeds into the expectations of who ever it is she thinks she will get the most approval from. Consequently, Betty doesn’t always act or dress appropriately and will often fly into fits of rage when things don’t go her way.

Betty has a few other issues too. She eats dirty things off the ground, puts inappropriate things in her mouth, and has a fascination with dirt. I suspect Betty actually eats dirt. I’ve never witnessed her doing it; but there was one afternoon I believe that is what had happened. She’d brought a cup of dirt into a public rest room and was in there for 20 minutes. When I asked her what took so long, she said she had to wash her hands and face because she had dirt on them. The cup had come from one of those burger joints that you see all over the galaxy. It had been mine. She’d taken it and filled it with dirt, after she’d drank the left overs of Casper’s soda, ate his ice and than ate my ice. Betty has had numerous cases of parasite infection. Is it any wonder? Betty appears to me to have an eating disorder called PICA.

Betty also steals things that are of little value; except maybe to her. I’m missing a shower curtain liner. I don’t know if she’d actually taken it; but I can’t find it? She’s taken posters with other kid’s names on them, photos of other people’s children and some of Casper’s sidewalk chalk. This is another psychological disorder called Kleptomania.

Oh look; here comes the Tanzanian Devil
Taz - Taz is a rather lovable ten year old whirlwind of chaos. You know, flies endlessly, eats couch cushions and generally leaves a wake of messes in his path. Taz is rather hazardous to the health of toys, although I don’t think it’s necessarily intensional. He has a low frustration tolerance. Taz also has a hearing impairment, speech impediment and may also be mildly cognitively impaired. Taz has a temper though and can string together quite a list of profanities. He’s got a mouth on him worse than most Storm-troopers I’ve heard. Taz tries hard though and will apologize when he’s done something wrong. He likes Casper and they generally get along fairly well together.

Taz though too isn’t without his own psychological issues. He has a tendency to urinate in inappropriate places. He’s been known to do this down heat register exchanges, (He actually did this in my house.) on bathroom floors, (at least that was easy to clean up) carpets and even his own toys. He’s only ever stayed overnight at my house one time and let me tell you; we won’t do that again! As you can probably guess; Taz is Betty Boop’s brother.

Other Characters on Naboo:

Captain Rex and Raggedy Ann - Rex was a clone trooper who served in the imperial army and suffered a traumatic brain injury from an accident while on active duty. Rex gets veteran’s benefits, but also works (at least part time).

Besides home-schooling, Raggedy Ann spends her days scouring garage sales, thrift stores, clothing closets and food banks to help feed and clothe their six kids.

Oldest boy, 16 who has a job - I’ve never seen this kid.
Goofy,14 - 15 year old - Goofy seems to be cognitively a bit slow.
Daisy Duck, 12-13 year old - She’s a good kid, tries to help Betty make better clothing choices.
Bugs Bunny, 10-11 year old - He likes to play games, but not big into computer ones. Casper likes him. Busy kid though. He’s usually doing something with his oldest brother, Captain Rex or his
grand-ma. Grand-ma lives on a farm.
Smiley, 7 year old - The name says it all!
Tweety Bird, 3 year old.

So, thus is Raggedy Ann’s household. She’s a generous soul and likes to help out when ever she can. She’s a major source of clothing, school supplies and other resources for Betty and Taz.

Whiley Coyote and Tigger- Another two souls Casper loves. They’re about 8 and 10 years old and both love video games. They come over frequently and play Lego Indiana Jones with Casper. Whiley and Tigger’s dad is rather protective of them. He doesn’t particularly like Taz’s temper and won’t let his kids play with him. He’s quite concerned about Whiley being bullied. Whiley has Torrettes Syndrome.

Yosemite Sam and Elmer Fud - 8 and 10 year old boys who’ve also had a hard life. They like to play "shoot ‘em up" video games. Ones that aren’t particularly appropriate for their ages. (Call of Duty and Grand Theft Auto) They’d been in foster care and now live with Grandma. Grandma is quite vocal about the fact that she doesn’t like Taz or Betty. Betty is too "slutty" and Taz is too violent.

Elmer and Yosemite have their own demons to face though. Yosemite can be rather mean; which causes friction between him, his siblings and others in the neighborhood. Elmer is the more friendly and outgoing of the two. He’s the one who comes over the most to play with Casper. He likes theater and he and his sister "Melody" can sing quite well. We’ve all been encouraging them to pursue additional music lessons at school.

Interesting planet Naboo is - Yeah!

So here we come to the title of this post:
Lord of Love and Head Lice

Well, you can probably guess what happened. This is the second summer in a row that I’m aware of, where Taz and Betty (and Anakin) have had head lice. This summer though, they gave it to half the neighborhood; even despite my best efforts to avoid it that night Taz stayed over. When both the kids got up; I washed all the bedding including the animals and pillows that were in the bed with Taz. We still ended up with lice; yet I expect the initial infestation came before the sleep over. Both Taz and Betty had been in our house, as well as in Captain Rex and Raggedy Ann’s house. (They ended up with it too.) One week later; when cleaning Casper’s room again after the initial lice sweep - I even found dead lice in his Lego bin. I’ve washed every toy, sheet and stitch of clothing this kid owns. I’ve washed every sheet and stitch of clothing I own!

Casper had been itching for about a week before he went to camp. I’d found two black bugs with wings in his hair one night and never thought "lice", since lice are usually white or gray and don’t have wings.

Lice don’t jump or fly; they crawl. They are actually kind of hard to get (outside of head to head contact) unless a person is so infested, that the adult bugs are falling out of their hair. Lice are also species specific. Humans don’t get lice from birds or dogs, since feathers and fur are different than hair. The only other species known to be able to get human lice are monkeys. Now who originally gave it to whom (monkeys or man) no-one knows, but lice are one of those parasites that don’t cross species. So, since there are no monkeys on Naboo; we pretty much know where the lice came from. Yes, I am currently far more familiar with the life cycle of human head lice than I ever cared to know.

Sadly, I suspect Taz and Betty still have them.

Casper left for camp in the middle of August and when they did a lice check on kids coming in; they didn’t see anything. The following Wednesday morning at about 4 AM, I woke up real itchy. Now I’d had eye surgery about three weeks prior and was taking oxycodone. When ever I take that - I itch anyways. So I didn’t think much of it before that fateful Wednesday morning, when I found bugs in the shower. Well, at that point I knew exactly what it was.

So as soon as the drugstore opened; I went and got some lice treatment. I contacted camp and had them check Casper. Sure enough; he had it too. The nurse said he had it pretty bad; although primarily on one side of his head. (The side they obviously didn’t check when he came into camp.) The nurse said she’d "had grandpa lice coming out to greet her" and requested if they could shave Casper’s head. (I’m feeling all itchy just writing this.) I told her - do what you’ve got to. So, they shaved Casper’s head.

Well, I’d spent 4 days going through my own hair and still combing nits out. When I went to get Casper at the end of camp; he’d looked at me and said. "Mommy, I really didn’t want this haircut." So the following day; after four days of messing with my own hair. I shaved my head too. (Little "old school" I know but - it got rid of the lice!) This helped Casper to not feel so badly about his own little bald head. Crazy momma Oakly aint got hair either! Consequently, we both were looking like a couple of cancer patients.

So, sometimes when you try to pull someone out of the mud - you get a little dirty yourself! Anybody ever wonder if Jesus ever had head lice? That question never crossed my mind until this summer.

Well, in the midst of all this chaos, many days of Betty being at our house (some time eating breakfast, lunch and dinner here) and weeks before I even knew about the head lice; I finally called Child Protective. They opened an investigation and neither Betty or Taz were permitted to come down to our house any longer.

Not to say that I haven’t seen them; or that nothing else has happened since. I’ve had to confront all three on different occasions for various things. The question now becomes; how do I continue to show forth the grace of God in all of this? Some times love has to be tough and we are often times called upon to speak the truth in love; even when the truth isn’t pretty.

Ironically, Taz and Betty have come down here since. They both had said they weren’t allowed to talk to me; but I made it quite clear that if you’re down here in my yard - you’re not going to avoid me. They seem to have accepted that and at this point so has Anakin. He apparently has ceased in totally forbidding them from having any contact with us. I still want to help these kids and apparently so does the rest of this community. (They get a lot of help; not just from neighbors, but from the school, community organizations, individuals and even business owners. One antiques store made popcorn every morning, all summer long and primarily for Taz.) Is our helping these kids just further enabling dad to not take responsibility though?

I don’t know - tough questions!
I do know one thing though - there are a lot of people praying for these kids.

If there’s one thing I know,
it’s you were never left alone,
cause you can always call on Jesus’ name.

And if there’s one thing I pray,
it’s Jesus helps you find a way,
to make a change and listen to your heart.

God will take away your pain if you choose to let it go.
If there’s one thing I know.

One thing - by Salah

Woe, what a summer!

2011-09-02T19:16:00.000-07:00

Hey peeps, summer is almost over (or really over for some of us who started school already)!
Yes, you heard it here first folks "~~Earth shattering~~" uh - news?
I started school!

On the more serious side though, it's been one heap of a summer. Sort of trying to find our place in this neighborhood. We've made some friends; (and an "enemy" so to speak - got a couple of kids around here that really need to be in foster care. My "enemy" came to be on account of my calling Child Protective. That's a story for another post though.)

Most recent news. My settlement money will be in by the end of this month! Yeah for me and thank You God! It'll make getting back and forth to school a lot easier. Being able to drive myself will make my life much simpler (especially in the winter)! I got a car all picked out too and will be going Tuesday to take a test drive. If I like it - it's mine!

Speaking of settlement; Boo and I went today to pick out some furniture from our local furniture store. I got (what will eventually be) a new bed (and chest of drawers) for him. It's queen sized and for the time being will serve as a guest room till Boo is too tall for his current bed. Got him a memory foam mattress (since he's so in love with mine). It will definitely help him sleep better and maybe even help the seizure issue. Good sleep is a plus for any of us.

Other odds and ends:
Dinning room table and chairs.
Pantry for the kitchen. (place to store bags and gobbly gook.)
Tip out trash bin.

Got a glider rocker for my room.

Deacon bench for my little hallway.

Small "side board" for upstairs linens.

Oh, and last but not least - I got a small book case for Boo's (current) room.

Had another surgery on my right eye. They took the saline bulb thing out and replaced the lens. I really can't see out of it any better than I could; but I think the doctor expects that will improve some as the eye heals up. It seems to be taking longer (and hurting more) than what I remember of the other surgeries. But than again; other parts of me hurt less now, so maybe I'm just noticing the pain in the eye more? LOL Despite this though; it is slowly getting better.

Well, I have more I could write; but for the time being I think I'll leave off with this. I got some other post ideas in my head. Just got to get to doing them.

Future posts: (not necessarily in this order though)
House photo updates.
Some new clothing combination shots.
The Lord of love and head lice.

Day 15!

2011-07-15T14:13:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been just over two weeks since "Boo" and myself moved into our Habitat house. I have been busy unpacking (obviously) and things have been "unexpected" - I guess.

(My sincerest apologies to those attempting to follow my stories on Fan Fiction. I have not posted a new chapter in almost a month. Just like this blog - be getting to that soon too.)

It's been peaceful and rather quite - with just the two of us. I think the anticipation of the whole separation thing on Boo was actually worse than the event. He seems to me to be far more relaxed than he's been in (maybe) his entire life? His summer thus far has been full of school (he's home by 11:15), playing with his new neighbor friends (although they are not really "new" - he knows some of them from school), and going to a local youth rec ministry. It's a new world for Boo and his life has changed a lot. He seems pretty happy though. Yeah, he has his typical "I don't want to go to bed now because I've got to get up and go to school tomorrow tantrums; but other than that - he's got more freedom now and he seems to be employing that freedom wisely.

As for me; I've spent a lot of this time turning this house into a haven for the both of us. Shelter from the Storm.

"Please don't let them hurt Your children. We need love and shelter from the storm.
Please don't let them hurt Your children; won't You keep us safe and warm."
(Dear Mr. Jesus)

Speaking of shelter for the children. We've got a lot of kids in this neighborhood who either are, were, or need to be in foster care. I've been praying a lot for these kids and I know I'm not the only one. We've got some good neighbors around us and a lot of need. God, You gave me this house for a reason. Help me be a genuine light in the darkness.

On the lighter side of life though; I'm enjoying decorating this place. Some of the curtains and stuff I've ordered for the living room have come in and when I get stuff in a little more resemblance of order here - I'll take some (more better) pictures and post them on the blog.

I'm in a quandary though! What to do with the "ugly lights"????

Yeah, these domed bulb things. I was in the kitchen when Ed was installing them and he said: "Hey give me one of them ugly lights!"

The name stuck!

So, any suggestions on what to "do" with the "ugly lights"?

I was thinking of painting them to look like planets?

Mercury
Venus Mars

BUT......

wouldn't exactly go with the Italian Tuscan themed kitchen.

So the next idea was impressionist representations of Renaissance European cities!

Prague, Paris, Vienna, Munich, Rome and St. Petersburg.

Intriguing idea -not sure if I'm going to go with it?

Despite this though, I find that I'm oft a few curtains short of a pair!

Boo picked out Star Wars curtains. I hope "Wally World" gets restocked soon!

Annie's happy hanging out though!

Living room needs some work! Yeah I know!

Like I said - I'm a few curtains short of a pair!

Upstairs bathroom's lookin pretty though!

Did the wall boarder today.

Once the mirror comes in - we'll be cookin!

Some of my dolls have found a home.

I also found some new furniture.

Raymore and Flanagan clearance center! YES!

Couple of items found a home.

My mom's lamp and dad's clock.

Yeah, still a few curtains short of a pair! Even missing a rod here!

Got some sheers I'm working on. Found all the curtains at Pasty Jenny's (J.C. Penny's) They need to be shortened because the windows are lower to the floor than "standard".

And here's my prized bargain!

Tempurpedic Cloud adjustable bed!
Paid $1,200. for it! Now that was a steal!

Talked to my knee surgeon a couple months ago about medical justification for a bed like this. (My feet swell pretty bad sometimes.) He said let him know when I find something - he'll fill out the paper work.

And last but not least - what will eventually be my "drawing room". (I know - I'm a product of a bygone era. Who in the 21st Century has a "drawing room"?)

Eventually, I'll get a drawing table, storage for my craft/ sewing stuff and various sundry / extra bed for anyone who comes to visit.

Yada Yada Yada!

The Day is Finally Here!

2011-06-24T14:08:00.000-07:00

I closed today on my habitat house! I can start moving stuff in next week!

Haven't posted much of anything lately. Even on my Fan Fiction Story "The Gates of Hell" since I've been packing like a maniac to move.

The day is coming though - so I'm real happy!

Family Radio Dooms Day Confessions! - Dear Lord!

2011-05-23T19:21:00.000-07:00

Dear Lord,

Apparently (at least at this point) You have not brought Harold Camping to any sort of repentance. I guess that doesn't surprise me; but it saddens me. It's also apparent that he refuses to be accountable and help those who gave their savings for this prediction.

Lord, please pardon my boldness here; but I'm going to step out in the name of justice! May my anger over this be rightly directed! Please send a civil lawsuit after Family Radio on behalf of those people who now need support and need their money back! That is absolutely disgusting that he refuses to help them. Harold Camping may not think that he has a financial obligation to those people - but he does! Even if You have to send the civil authorities after Family Radio and bankrupt the organization - than do so. After all, he claims the day of salvation is over. What reason does Family Radio have to exist now if there's no-one being saved and no reason for the gospel to go forth!

In Jesus Name
Amen!

Family Radio Dooms Day Confessions! - Post Desert Storm to 1993

2011-05-23T09:17:00.000-07:00

I came to the San Fransisco area after Desert Storm. I was stationed on Treasure Island and later on NAS Alameda. I found Family Radio shortly after I'd come to California. I was stationed there on shore duty, from about a month after the Gulf War ended until September of 1993. In September of 1993, I got out of the Navy; primarily because I had Gulf War Syndrome.

Of the time I spent in the San Francisco Bay area; the majority of it - I'd gone to the same church as Harold Camping. In those days, it actually was still a church. (This was before his "depart out" teaching began.) We conducted baptisms, had communion and there was an order of deacons and elders. The church was modeled pretty much in the reformed tradition. It was a break off of a Christian Reformed Church that had been in that area. (As far as I know - that Christian Reformed Church is still in existence.) We met in an old veteran's hall. (At least I think it was a veteran's hall. It was a public building though. That was 17 years ago - it's been a long time.)

Any ways, I made some good friends at this church and to this day I still wonder what happened to some of them? Some I kept in contact with after I'd left the area in 1993. Most of my friends, I still have a general idea of their whereabouts; but because several of them (and I) have moved a few times - I've lost track.

As for the "mood" of the church. Most everyone was kind. There were some conflicts within the church and radio station; although I never perceived them to be above and beyond the typical conflicts of any organization. Harold Camping was a nice man; his wife Shirley was a kind woman. They cared for her aging parents and were involved in the lives of their children. To my knowledge this continued even after Mr. Camping began to proclaim some of his more unusual teachings. There were people in the church and the radio station that didn't agree with Harold on some of his teachings; but that didn't seem to be a problem. Harold Camping was not a charismatic personality that needed to be in control of every thing. I did not see that to be the case, even unto the time I'd stopped listening to Family Radio in about 1996. Others may have had different experiences with him on this; but up until the point I'd stopped listening - that had been my experience.

Mr. Camping used to conduct a study in his home on Wednesday evenings after Open Forum ended. It was a study he and several of the church elders were doing in coming up with a confession and statement of faith for the church. Anyone was invited and they were going through the Heidelberg Catechism. This document was to be the template for the church's ruler-ship. They were updating the language and changing some of the statements to make them more understandable to today's reader. Most of the rewritten document remained doctrinally consistent to the original Heidelberg Catechism; with the exception of Baptism, Communion and some minor changes to the language of the second advent of Christ. The changes that were made, left the document more resembling a Reformed Baptist confession of faith. This church didn't subscribe to infant Baptism and saw Communion as a remembrance ceremony only. Harold Camping has always been some what dispensational n his eschatology; but at the time, basically held to an al-millennial post tribulation rapture that occurred just prior to the destruction of the cosmos.

Of the other things in the re-written Heidelberg Catechism; the view of the Trinity, the state of man's fall, the Deity and humanity of Christ, substitution atonement, eternal punishment, the bodily resurrection, bodily ascension and bodily return of Christ, the distinctions of the persons of the Trinity and the view of Satan and angels remained consistent with what has been orthodox throughout church history. This church also held very strongly to the historical notion of John Calvin's "TULIP". As far as I could see and read in the documents this church produced; it was a doctrinally sound and historically orthodox.

Mr. Camping's home was typical for one of that area. I believe it was 3 bedrooms. Although I'm not sure, because I'd only been upstairs to the bathroom once. It had a living room, dining room, kitchen and a little hallway that went to a family room. It probably wasn't any more than 1600 square feet. The yard was modest and typical for houses of that neighborhood. The furnishings looked to be from about the post WWII era to maybe the early 70's. They were modest and a little worn, but the home and it's contents were well cared for. Ms. Camping had some items that were probably family heirlooms; but nothing above and beyond family heirlooms that I possess today. The clothing they wore was modest too. It had probably been purchased at places like Sears or J.C Penny's. Most of Harold's suits were of an older style. They fit the look of a typical man who was in his seventies. Neither Harold, his wife or any of their children had flashy jewelry, cars, homes or anything like that. They were very simple living people.

Harold was always kind, respectful and sensible to me. I talked to him one time about my family home life and what I was struggling with. He encouraged me to follow God and respect my parents in what was lawful; despite my mother's alcoholism. He encouraged me to pray for and love my family as best I could and pray for wisdom from God as to how to deal with them. He was an even tempered, low key personality. I'd never seen him get angry at anyone and he'd never told me what to do. The only advice he'd ever given me was to pray for wisdom from God in how to handle situations in life.

For the most part, my memories of Family Radio, the church and all those that surrounded Harold Camping were happy ones. Yeah I struggled with my own depression, Gulf War Syndrome, my PTSD and military life in general; but nothing about my experiences with Family Radio from those days, was "cultish" or abusive. God blessed me with good friends and loving support when I needed it and I thank Him for that. He was good to me.

As for Family Radio and Harold Camping today; I certainly hope he takes proper measures to amend this mess. Even though I think Mr. Camping sincerely believed/believes? what he was teaching; he needs to repent of what he's done. I also think it's appropriate that he make an apology to the public and certainly make right with those who'd spent their life savings on this rapture prediction.

May God bless Family Radio and bring Harold Camping back into the fold.

Family Radio Dooms Day Confessions! - 1994

2011-05-23T06:35:00.000-07:00

September 6, 1994 came and went just like May 21, 2011 came and went.

I'd gotten up and went to work. I worked in a group home with developmentally disabled adults and we'd taken the residents to the city of Rochester's annual Labor day parade. I sat on the curb sandwiched between several of the guys praying that when Jesus did return - he'd take me. I prayed this fervently; even though I didn't feel in the least bit worthy of going to heaven.

No one at work had said anything to me about this failed prediction; at least not that day they hadn't. Only one of my co-workers had pointed it out a few days later. To which I'd just responded that no-one had ever said for certain that it was going to happen; but just that it was a possibility.

Later that evening I'd gone over to a friend's house. Several of us 1994 'adherents' were gathered up in this family's home wondering what happened. The mood was somber, as all us adults tried to figure out why we were still here. The friend's father had come to the door for something. They lived in a duplex and the parents of the mother of this family lived in the other side. When the husband had closed the door, after his wife had gone over to give her elderly parents their dinner; I distinctly remember what was on the back of the front door. It was a construction paper writing that had been done by one of their children. It said:

"Let God be True and every man a liar."

The husband closed the door and suddenly stopped and read the verse out loud. There was silence in the room for the next several minutes.

Had Harold Camping lied? Was he mistaken? Was there just something we missed and the prediction really was about to come to pass? Maybe our calender was miscalculated or something? Why had God not done what I was convinced He'd said He was going to do? After all, had he not reveled it to us 'his servants the prophets'? Even though I certainly didn't feel worthy of redemption, I was sure I'd found the truth; Jesus was suppose to return that day. Finally we'd closed the evening conceding that apparently there was something we'd missed.

The days, weeks and eventually months passed. Many of the 1994 prediction followers had concluded that God was being merciful and spared us from judgement so that more people could be saved. God wasn't done gathering His elect and that's why we were still here. Well OK, yeah. I remember thinking. I understand that intellectually and I guess I can say that's a good thing; (really it is) but it still didn't stop the crushing disappointment I felt that the world hadn't ended.

A few days later I was over these friends house again, when the wife had repeated to me something she'd heard Harold Camping say on the radio. If we're looking for Jesus to return just to rescue us from our current life circumstances; our hearts aren't in the right place. We're looking for the wrong reason. To this she'd told me that she and her husband just looked at each other and said "Uhhh!"

"Uhhh!" So yeah, months and even years later I'd finally be able to come to confess that was the reason I really wanted Jesus to return. I wanted Him to rescue me from my life circumstances. Rescue me from my depression, my nightmares, and all the trauma I'd gone through. Seventeen years later now, I can see how in so many ways He's done just that. I'm still on this earth though, still having the sanctification factor worked out in my life; but none the less, God has rescued me from my depression, my nightmares and the devastating consequences the trauma I'd faced in life, had on my state of mental health. Now of course God didn't use any particular 'miraclous' means to do so. No, He used therapists, hospital psychiatric wards and some books written by men whom God Himself had gifted to be able to help people like me.

Through all this I can look back and see how He loved me.

And this was the one most single factor that helped me get through the 1994 failed prediction. It took a while to come out from under the Harold Camping / Family Radio teaching. I continued to listen to Family Radio for probably up to about 18 months after September of 1994 had passed. I still held out for some shred of hope that maybe Harold wasn't that far off his rocker. Maybe there was some bit of truth to his predictions and the subsequent teaching that came out of the 1994 event.

I was finally able to let Family Radio go when at one point I came to the revelation that God did actually love me. It was a sunny afternoon and I was laying in bed trying to get some sleep before I had to get up and head to work. I was now on the graveyard shift at the group home and going to school during my morning hours after work. I was laying there thinking about the stories of prostitutes coming to Jesus looking for forgiveness. Than I started to wonder what kinds of tragedies had these people who's stories I'd read about in the Bible endured in their lives? If Jesus would show compassion upon them even in all their messed up existence; than why wouldn't he show it to me? I'm not better than they were; but I wasn't any worse either! What a revelation that was! A few more weeks passed before I'd finally come to the conclusion that because God really did love me - the end of the world didn't matter any more.

Family Radio Dooms Day Confessions!

2011-05-22T23:10:00.000-07:00

Well Saturday May 21, 2011 has come and gone and also for the most part has Sunday May 22, 2011.

Our church had a Kid's Club final ceremony Friday night, in which most us adults discussed this prediction set forth by Harold Camping concerning the rapture and the end of the world. That got me thinking about it and all the people who've gotten caught up in this.

Saturday passed; I did some work on my Habitat for Humanity house and went home around noon for lunch. Boo and I had grilled cheese sandwiches and I got on the Internet to look at the news reports. Nothing was happening and I spent the rest of the afternoon thinking and remembering September 6, 1994; (the last rapture prediction Harold Camping had made). You see, I'd been caught up in the 1994 time setting and was sincerely hoping (along with many others) that the world really was going to end. I'd written about that in my journal Saturday evening and promised 'myself' I'd blog about it.

Why?
That hopefully some of the followers of this May 21, 2010 rapture prediction would - but for the providence of God - find their way to this blog.

I know how some of you are feeling. I was where you are 17 years ago.

For those of you who'd sacrificed your savings, quit your jobs, sold your houses and the such like - though I didn't do that in 1994 - I feel for you today. You got some tough days ahead of you; but God is good and He'll see you through this - if you are sincerely seeking Him.

"A bruised reed He won't break and a smoking flax he won't stomp out."

God's grace is great enough to sustain all His people who found themselves caught up in these sorts of things. He sustained me through it 17 years ago; He will sustain you too.

As for Bible passages, time paths and how all this could have ended up so wrong - I won't get into that. You'll sort through that later. There are some Christian web-sights that can help point out exactly where and why these errors are; beyond the "no man knows the day or hour" passage. I know the number and time path teachings seem so right and it's going to take time and energy to sort through it. God still hears though and He will hold your hand; even when you're too embarrassed, bewildered and stunned to make any sense of it.

"My grace is (still) sufficient for you."

I will be praying for you all and if anyone reading this wants to talk to me about their 5/21/11 doomsday disappointments; I'd be willing to share my experience, strength and hope.

Thanks
Sincerely
Renee

Happy Easter!

2011-05-02T20:26:00.000-07:00

(Yeah, I know - more than a week later!)

I've been pondering writing this post for just as much time now; wondering what to say, how to explain?

So, I guess here goes!

"She's had 18 years, to get ready for this day,
She should be past the tears, but she cries some any ways,
Oh, oh - Letting go."

Our Easter "celebrations" commenced roughly a week before; when I was asked if Boo and I had any plans for Easter. I said: "No, nothing as of yet; why?" To this I was told that all of us were invited to a friend's house for Easter dinner and that these friends were to be picking up one member of this household Saturday night and would bring him back Sunday night. I said: "Oh, that would work; Boo and I could go right after church and than these friends wouldn't have to drive all the way back to our house to bring (someone) home." So, there it was left and I figured we'd all have a good time. We'd gone to these friend's house on Thanksgiving and everyone seemed to have enjoyed themselves.

The Saturday before Easter, I asked what time dinner was and if they wanted us to bring anything. To this I was informed that I wasn't really invited and that I had just made an assumption that I was.

Now wait a minute - that wasn't what I was told a week ago!

So after a brief argument and confirming with these friends when they finally did come to get someone - that plans apparently had been changed as to who was really invited and who wasn't? It became quite clear that Boo and I were on our own for Easter.

Well, I guess it doesn't surprise me that this certain someone would not want to be around us for Easter; considering what happened last Easter! Is it that question of if you could have gotten up and walked away from the car accident - where would you have gone? What would you have done? Would you have really left us there to die? Is that why you can't look at us?

I wrote a little bit that Saturday night; after putting Boo to bed and began to plan out what we were going to do for Easter.

So, the next morning I got up and began to gather some things. I took all the get well cards from the accident, a journal of mine from this past year, a mounted wedding invitation, two wedding memory albums, all the past cards and letters of a certain someone's stated undying devotion to me and a mounted colleague I'd made for Christmas upon the year Boo was born. I loaded them all up into the car and Boo and I started our Easter at Denny's.

After breakfast, we went to Wally World (Walmart) go get our Easter presents. Instead of candy and baskets; Boo got a Lego Harry Potter set and I got the second season of Star Wars Clone Wars. (Yeah, at 40 years old - I still like cartoons.) We also grabbed a bundle of firewood and from there we headed up into the nearest state park.

Since it was dreary and raining; it didn't take much to find an unoccupied shelter. So, we gathered up our "burn pile" and with a nice view of the Letchworth Gorge; we ignited our fire. I told Boo we were going to send the last year (actually the last 11 of them) heavenward. It was time to give it all back to God. Time to let it go!

Boo was OK with letting go of all the car accident related stuff; but when it came to the rest of it, he had a real hard time. He kept saying "It's wrong, it's wrong." and I told him: "I know it is, but we got to let it go. We can't control the choices other people make." It was a struggle. Boo cried some and so did I; but we did it. We handed over our lives. Our lives that are forever changed. Our lives that will never go back to being what they were before April 4, 2010.

Boo kept one of the albums and we still have the colleague I'd made. Boo couldn't let that stuff go. He's still holding onto a dream; a dream that his father is going to "wake up" some day and be the dad Boo needs. He's hoping for the day dad realizes his love for Boo is greater than his annoyance with the unpleasant quirks that Autism has marked upon this child's life. Boo has been waiting nine years now. Boo may be waiting for the rest of his life.

"But mommy, who'd going to be my daddy?"
"Boo, God will be your daddy!"

"When my father and mother forsake me, than the Lord will take me up."
Psalm 27:10

So, I'll give it some more time. We'll see what happens after we move? When Boo's ready to let go though; we can make another trip up into the park.

Something in your eyes I see,
Reminds me of what used to be,
When I was still uncertain of the truth.

Sleepless nights that turned to days,
Alone inside an endless space,
Counting on someone to see me through.

And if there's one thing, I know,
It's you were never left alone,
Cause you can always call on Jesus name.
And if there's one thing I pray,
It's Jesus help you find a way,
To make a change and listen to your heart.
God will take away your pain, if you choose to let it go.
If there's one thing I know!

How can I convince your heart,
His light can find you in the dark,
And only He can make your blind eye see.
For if we speak of lost things found,
Of lives that have been turned around,
Than tell me who knows better child than me?

And if there's one thing, I know,

It's you were never left alone,
Cause you can always call on Jesus name.
And if there's one thing I pray,
It's Jesus help you find a way,
To make a change and listen to your heart.
God will take away your pain, if you choose to let it go.
If there's one thing I know!

I would never stake my life on any lessor thing,
Than the cross of Christ where he gave his life to ease my suffering.

Song Title - One Thing
Artist - Salah

Have Foot Will Travel

2011-04-09T12:45:00.000-07:00

Had surgery on my foot yesterday. Still smarts a bit, but I think it's going to turn out better in the end. Hospital staff said that yes, the doctor did find some arthritis in this little appendage of mine. Granted the surgery won't help the arthritis, but it will make putting my shoes on more comfortable.

And boy, let me tell ya; any bit of "more comfortable" is welcome.

So Amen to that.

Other good news! I got a "ball park" closing date on my Habitat house. Some time the end of this month or the very beginning of next! I'm feeling good and calm about it. Been a long time coming.

Thank You!

And Hallelujah for short stubbly little posts!

April 4th 2010 will Live in Infamy

2011-04-04T09:50:00.000-07:00

(At least in my life it will!)

So here I am typing exactly one year - even to the minute; (no, I didn't plan the minute thing - that'd be pretty scary if I did.) post car accident.

Of Dr. Phil's "Self Matters" - 10 defining life moments: This one ranks up there in the top 3 in my life.

I took myself out to breakfast this morning, after I put Boo on the bus. A coffee house just opened in town by me and so I went and had some french toast, bacon and several cups of coffee. This coffee house is a cool place and it's actually in walking distance from where I will be living. I'm not sure this life gets much better than that!

Any ways, it's one year past the car accident and I'm here to ponder that fact!

Amen!

My life will soon be taking a totally different turn and I'm looking forward to it. I'm sure these changes that will take place in the next couple of years will have me looking at my existance from a very interesting angle. How many times in life do we get to "start over"? I've had a few "start overs" and though they can be daunting; they can also be exciting. What would I look like at 40? 10 years ago, I could have never perdicted this! Even so, I hope this car accident thing is a once in a life time deal. I wouldn't want to have to do this again!

So I remember and say good-bye to the person who they were loading into a Mercy Flight chopper at about 12:50 PM last year. She is gone forever. Yet as the Phenox rises out of the ashes; so shall I be made something anew. I don't know what that will be; but I know it is true!

"All things work together for the good of those who love God, who are called according to His purpose."

Habitat for Humanity (take two)

2011-03-28T08:01:00.000-07:00

Now for pictures of inside the house!

(Down stairs bathroom. Toilet will go in front of the pipes. We just walled them in the other day.)

Bathroom sink vanity will go where all them wires are.
Far left is the bath tub.

Down stairs bedroom. (Left) There's two windows facing the front of the house. You can't see the other because the closet door is in the way.

Here is the down stairs bedroom looking into the hall.

Kitchen - The "table" with the cardboard boxes covering it is the center island. The kitchen sink is there.

Stove will be on the right hand side; as will the fridge.

Counter tops will be "black granite looking" Formica.
Floor will be tiled beige and white speckled. This goes for the two bathrooms too.

Fellow habitat volunteers:
(left to right)
Paul, Adam & Ed

Door on the left of Paul: you can see the handle hardware (knob not on yet). That is the laundry closet.

Living room:

There's another window on the far right that you can't see; (but it's there)!

Front window looks out over the valley. (Nice view - especially from upstairs!) I wanna paint the front door brick red!
I have other colors picked out for walls; when I get a chance (and some buddies together) to repaint - I will.

Stair well: There will be double railings - so I can get up the stairs.
(Right) This space will be a closet / shelves for linens.

(Left) Hallway looking into large upstairs bedroom. The panel you see on the left is the access for the upstairs bathroom plumbing. The green is the mildew resistant drywall - they usually put that inside bathrooms - but they had extra! It hasn't been primed or painted yet - that's why it's green.

(Right) Upstairs bathroom: The red and blue plastic pipes are the water lines for the sink. Toilet will be on the right. Shower on the left.

Large upstairs bedroom: One front widow looks over the valley. (Right picture - from this angle though all you can see is the front of the neighbor's house!)

Large upstairs bedroom front window, wall and closet door. (Think I might stick a flat screen TV on that wall! LOL - Just what I need - right!)

Smaller upstairs bedroom: (Nice window!) Good sized room too!

Smaller upstairs bedroom looking out the door into the hall.

The little piece of door you see on the far left is the closet.

So that's it folks - Habitat for Humanity house!

Settlement, Separation, Sorrow and Saddam Hussein

2011-03-28T06:37:00.000-07:00

What a funny name for a post? - Yeah, I know.

So what's the story behind this?

Well, I was sitting in church yesterday; sort of half paying attention and thinking about all that's transpired these past few days. The flooring and more of the supplies / things to be installed; have come into the habitat house. I've talked to the lawyer and they've heard back from those parties they need to hear from in order to get the settlement money situation squared away. (That will be coming real soon here.) So things are moving along and I'm excited.

OK, so what's this have to do with Saddam?

Sounds strange, yeah I know; but I was remembering the day the US military found him. I can still see the news reports; American soldiers pulling him out of this little hole he was hiding in. I remember sitting there watching this, thinking to myself of oh how happy I was going to be when they finally caught him. (Not that I wasn't happy; because I was.) I had a rather unexpected reaction to it though. Where as I thought I'd be jumping for joy that this regime was finally over and the people of Iraq could move on to something different and hopefully better; instead though, I found myself crying.

Pent up emotion for the years of profound suffering this man caused for whole groups of people. The lives he affected. Even of people like me, who'd never lived in his country. It was finally over and probably along with a lot of people in Iraq who cried for the exact same reason; I cried with them. It seemed like a strange reaction at the time; but I get it now.

So, just like my crying over Saddam Hussein; I'm sitting in church crying over these things that are soon to come to pass in my own life. Crying over moving out, moving on and starting over. I'm relieved, saddened, and profoundly disappointed in the failure of this marriage. After 9 years of embittered impasses and mounting resentments; what other choice have I got but to cut him loose and let him go?

"Bitter-sweet memories, that is all I'm taking with me;
So good-bye, please don't cry;
We both know, I'm not what you need."

Even though yeah, I still love you and pray God saves you; even if He has to take me out of the way to do it.

So here I suppose is really the conclusion of this post: what else could I say?

"Letting go; there's nothing in the way now.
Letting go.
She's had (9) years, to get ready for this day;
She should be past the tears, but she cries some anyways."

Oh, oh Letting go.

The Jangette Diaries - "In the Beginning...." - Clone Prayers.

2011-03-17T06:26:00.000-07:00

Clone Prayers: (who... us?)

"Yes, Let's ask God to tell our story of His love and grace to those He's drawing to that love and grace!"

"But we're just imaginary people in a fictitious world though."

"Yeah, I know but "...out of the heart comes the issues of life" and someone put us on paper, you know. So that because "real people" are reading and writing this; that makes us "real"! Well, kind of."

"Yeah, OK what ever you say!"

"Alright so; who wants to go first?"
(All is suddenly quiet on the western front.)

Salam:
"Please let the great grace of Your love show forth in what's written about us! And for that love I sacrificed my own life; not because I wanted anyone to think I was a hero."

Shiloh:
"Amen!"

Bethlehem:
(giggles) "Thank You God."

Alexandria:
(sighs) "OK, I don't know what to say; I've never really done this before."

Shiloh:
"We all gotta start somewhere!"

The Righterzpen:
Yes, we all have to start somewhere. May all those who read this story see a reflection of the grace of God in a way they've never seen before. As a sci-fi geek; I know I'm not alone in Christendom. May other sci-fi geeks who may have never been interested in You otherwise; be found this way. I have no idea where I'm going; but OK, here I am send me!

P.S. Please give us courage and grace in this real world. Help the people in Japan in their acute peril right now. You gotta know this nuclear reactor melt down thing has got us all a little freaked out! Give us wisdom to know how to stop it from doing it's worst. Thank you for Your goodness toward all of us!

As for the audience in America, Canada, Russia, Germany, France, Poland, China, Netherlands, Indonesia, South Africa, Columbia, Australia, Belarus, United Kingdom, Ukraine, South Korea (I think I got everyone?) Please provide for the needs of these people; both physically, mentally, emotionally and especially spiritually. May they see Your love and grace; bestowed upon them and in the world around them!

In Jesus name
Amen!

School, Surgeries, Star Wars Clones and The Lion King!

2011-03-15T10:25:00.000-07:00

What an odd title for a post! Let's not forget to throw Habitat for Humanity in there!

School: for me - on hold till fall. Went through a rigmarole of a comedy of errors in processing my application. I had a medical hold and since we couldn't find my immunization records; I had to go to the doctor to get a bunch of titers done. Well, a few blood draws and several shots later - I am "immune".... again! So I contacted my VESID worker and updated him on all this and so - we wait (some more).

School: for Boo - Third grade has been challenging. It's one of those in between grade; (in between second and forth - yeah I know) where they are trying to prepare kids for the work that will be required for 4th, 5th, 6th,. It's also a grade where they do a lot of state testing. Well the state testing hasn't sat very well with Boo. The teachers have managed to get him through it; so kudos to them!

Habitat House!!
     Getting excited about this one!!! It's nearing completion and I suspect Boo and I will be moving in some time in April. Still waiting on that pesky settlement money; but I did get SSI so - if the settlement takes longer than I hope it will; at least I'm bringing in enough to pay my mortgage! Which let me tell you; that's a load off my mind! As oddly strange as this may sound - Thank God for Uncle Sam!

     Progress: Most walls are spackled, sanded, primed and painted. Kitchen cabinets are in; although counter tops and sinks are "not yet". Upstairs bathroom has shower, downstairs has bath tub; no sinks or toilets "yet". Furnace is in (and running) High Efficiency - YEAH! (Combine that with insulated walls means smaller heating bills! We like smaller heating bills!) Currently working on installing plumbing. Next will be leveling the kitchen floor and tiling it plus bathrooms. (That will be interesting!) Other than; the only thing left is the carpet. So we are coming along.

     Miscellaneous items:
     2007 Saturn Vue: I picked one out. It's sitting in the lot of a car dealership by me. Nice! Good gas mileage (best for the Vue is 2007 - yeah did my consumer report reviews - blah blah blah) It's silver (or white) - I can't remember; yeah I know that's bad. Who cares what color it is though so long as it's in good shape! Light brown leather seat interior (Heated Seats! - Yeah, I remember all the important details!) Cruise control - I've never owned a car with cruise control! 31,000. Miles. Most Importantly: I can get my wheelchair in the back unassisted! Yeah for me! Not a bad price either!
     Small Detail: Yeah, I realized this winter that a remote car starter would be a grand thing! You never realize how labor intensive it is to wipe snow off a car when your on crutches! So yes, this dealership will install one for me for a couple hundred bucks! Great Yahoo!

     Furniture: Yeah, need some bedroom furniture. I'm taking my mattress with me. (One of them Temperpedic jobbers! Great investment!) Local furniture store though I found a nice bedroom set I'm liking. I'm looking at one long dresser, one tall dresser (or highboy) and nightstand. (Don't really like the bed frame; Think I'm going with a metal one I found on Overstock.com.) Any ways; the dressers are colonial style; cedar cheery color! (Picture that!) Also local delivery is free! Cool!
     I also found a dining room table set that I just fell in love with. (I don't usually fall in love with furniture but; I've never seen anything quite like this.) It's two toned; Top is an oak color; legs a dark cinnamon wood color. Chairs are colonial style; Oak seat; (matches table top) cinnamon back and legs!

     Lawn mower: Oh goody - who doesn't need one of those!
    Vacuum cleaner: Yeah, my life wouldn't be complete without that either!

Surgeries:
Yeah, trying to organize all them.
     1. Ankle: doctor is removing the pins. (They are giving me lots of trouble.) We have to see if we can remedy this problem as much as possible before doing the right knee. I'm suppose to be non-weight bearing on my right leg for 6 weeks. Right now that's not possible. My left leg can't do it.
     2. Right Knee: I got no PCL ligament left. It got ripped out in the accident. Not good - make leg unstable!
     3. Left Knee: trying to determine if I should just wait it out till knee replacement. (5 years or so down the road.)
     4. Right eye: Have to wait till I'm healed up from the other ones.

Star Wars Clones:
     Yeah, hih hih; I finished The Jangette Diaries - "In the beginning". I don't know if anyone reading this blog has been reading the story. I know there have been "vice versa" readers. (Waves to people in UK, Russia, Canada and Australia!) Needless to say, I feel quite accomplished in completing this story. I've started many stories that I've never finished. One of those things about me I've been working hard on these past couple of years. Completing projects.

The Lion King:
     Playing at the Auditorium Theater in Rochester. I'm going to take Boo for one of the evening performances. I think he's really going to like it. Ticket prices on-line are outrageous! I called the theater though and asked about handicapped seating! Got good seats in the orchestra section and they were a hell of a lot less than $500.(AHHHH) a pop. (Now that is ridiculous!) I'd seen the Lion King when it played in Toronto 11 or 12 years ago now. Great play! Anyone who can swing the ticket price (the cheap seats that is) - I'd highly encourage you to go see it! I haven't seen too many Broadway plays; but of the few I've seen - this one was the best!

Other Update:
     So outside of all of this: I'm managing quite well. I haven't had any anxiety attacks in months and I'm not particularly depressed either. Think I've remembered all of the car accident now. At least all the parts I was conscious through. Getting used to life on crutches. I'm in for the long hall here!
     In light of this, I'm considering whether or not I want to take up hand cycle racing. Watched a video recently of a crew of disabled vets who hand cycle raced in the Boston Marathon. They talked about wheel chair racing and how, because of their injuries they can't sit on their legs in the position wheelchair racers do. (I wouldn't be able to do that either.) I have a recumbent and I used to do a lot of biking. My knees are too unstable now to do that though. So I've been looking on E-Bay at used hand cycles. Maybe I'll sell my recumbent in exchange for one of those? They're expensive though; so we'll see how this all pans out.

     As for the separation thing; it's still going along "as planned". There's apparently no interest upon the part of the other party at reconciliation; seeing how he hasn't taken any steps to that end. Boo isn't real happy about it; but I think he's starting to come to terms with it. Boo's got a good counselor who's helping him. Boo's also been coming to help with the Habitat house; which I think has been good for him. He's been able to take some ownership for - "I've put some work into this house." and now he's looking forward to moving there.

     Lastly; in regards to this blog. I've been wanting to put up a few more of my (not so recent) fashion finds. It's been interesting because I've realized that much of the long flowing outfits I have, I can't wear when I'm in my wheelchair. So, I've been somewhat building this "sporting apparel" wardrobe that I use in the winter time, when I'm having to wheel around. (Linoleum floors are very dangerous for people on crutches when they are wet.)

So thus is thus: I've finished my Jangette Diaries story and I've blogged!

Yeah for me!

Hijabie Ideas

2011-03-13T18:09:00.000-07:00

Well, hello out there in bloggy blogger world! Been a while since I've done any posts and funny thing happened while "checking the stats". (I like this stats thing blogger has now! Pretty cool! All you who are reading this blog! I know where you guys live!)

Interesting I discovered that the page that got the most hits was "What Not to Wear Hijabie Edition" Intriguing!

Anyways; anyone who maybe would like more ideas? The video bar on the side of the blog does have a lot more ideas in it. (The top video that has the picture of me holding the American flag.) It was a video I made for a contest Shukr was doing. (About two years ago now.) So anyone who may not know that and would be into something like that - can look at the video.
(Just in case you're interested in such and haven't already seen it!)

The Jangette Diaries "In the Beginning...:"

2011-01-08T20:21:00.000-08:00

Long Long Ago

In A Galaxy Far Far Away

Yada Yada Yada

(I started to pen a story)

"Cool man - ah clone chick!"

(not to be forever nameless clone girl)

a clone named Ninevah

a different clone army

clone named Shiloh

Now, I'm sure we're all aware of Star Wars! (Yeah, what universe have you been living in if you haven't heard of the Star Wars one? Ehh?)

Well besides working on Habitat House, trying to get all my gunk together to get back to school, (probably fall) and dealing with my disability - I started writing another story. Two stories actually.

Short Story - The Jangette Diaries.

Longer Story - Cloned in the Image of God

tales of rredemption in an army of one

Intriguing? Maybe? (Any Sci-Fi fans out there?)

Here's an illistration I did for one of the stories.
(The Jangette Diaries)

For those who may not (totally) know. In the second Star Wars movie (Attack of the Clones) an alien race (Kaminoans) created a clone army for the Republic. (The Republic later became "the Empire" with ~~good~~ bad o'l Darth Vader - the biggest baddest Sith that ever was.) The Republic was originally what the Jedi vowed to protect. Well, they (the Jedi councel) ended up with a buch of clones to lead into a conflict called "The Clone Wars" (Real original name huh!)

Any ways; the host whom the Kaminoans had made all these clones from was a bounty hunter named Jango Fett. Jango was a guy, so of course, so were all his clones - except the one I invented. So thus the title "The Jangette Diaries"

So here's a bit of fan-fic: for those who care to read (some of) it.

I've been posting this story on FanFiction.Net

So, anyone who would like to continue reading this; here's the link.

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6689749/1/The_Jangette_Diaries

Habitat for Humanity

2010-10-14T14:55:00.000-07:00

Although things in life are rather difficult now; there are a few bright spots I want to share.

I'm sure just about every-one had heard of Habitat for Humanity. They build and refurbish houses for low income people. Contrary to popular belief - the habitat houses are NOT free. The family has to pay for the cost of the building materials. The price of a Habitat house depends heavily on the location it's built, the price of materials and the size of the house.

This house pictured below was a rehab from a fire that had burned out most of the back of the structure.

It is a 3 bedroom house and most of it has been rebuilt.

I have some pictures of it right after the fire - which I'll post later.

This is the back of the house - the part you see had all been lost in the fire.

What you see here is the kitchen.

Well to make a long story short; our family had applied for a habitat house back before the car accident. After all these issues happened with my husband - I'd gone and asked Habitat if they would be willing to take me on independent of my husband. Well, it's been a long road, but in short they said "Yes."

This house we'd been working on for the past nearly a year or so now. It had a family that had been accepted for it and the next house Habitat was going to build was to be ours; but the family who was to get this house backed out for concerns of being able to afford it long term. So I asked if I could have this house instead of waiting on the one to be built. They said yes - so around about December or so - Boo and I will be moving in. I plan on paying for this house with settlement money I will be receiving from the car accident.

Future Plans:

Also in the works is my cooberating with VESID in order to be retrained so I can go back to work. I'm considered permantly disabled at this point - so I will be working with VESID to go back to school and finish my Bacholor's degree. I plan on going to work as a counselor or social worker or something of that nature.

A Funny Thing Happened to Me on the Way to Surgery

2010-10-11T10:57:00.000-07:00

The anxiety attacks have subsided for now - (or have they)?

I haven't had one in a while and the last one I did have proved to produce quite an interesting "memory".

Now I'm not one particularly into "Near Death Experiences" any more than I'm into "Out of Body Experiences"; and I'm not sure if this "memory" was a memory of something that actually happened, or just a state of mind I was in. It does explain though my insistence that the nursing staff go find Jesus after I'd woken up from surgery.

Hospital OR:

After coming through the hall way off the chopper I remember feeling very strange as they rolled me into the operating room - (or maybe it was a trauma bay - I'm not sure). I felt sort of dizzy and sick even though someone was mechanically pumping air into my lungs. Things started getting black and I heard a female voice say:
"BP's dropping - We're loosing her."

Next thing I remember was standing in this blackness. It was totally pitch black all around me, and than suddenly the blackness split open like a torn garment and a very bright bluish luminescent light came spilling through the hole. This break was about 8 feet in front of me, and with in moments; a male figure dressed in a white robe appeared in the midst of the glowing light. I couldn't see the face or the front of the figure, on account of the light behind him washed out his features. So, I had no idea who it was; although my first thought was Jesus.

So I took two steps toward this figure before he suddenly said: "No!" Lifted his left arm and pointed behind me saying: "Go." along with something to the effect that my son needed me. I don't know who this figure was; (Jesus? some angel?) or if he was even real, but I was close enough to have grabbed onto his arm.

The next thing I remember was being whirled around and feeling like I was being tossed through the air. In front of me I could see two dim, florescent type lights. (Probably the lights in the OR.) Than it felt like someone shot me. This intense shocking pain rang throughout my entire body; than suddenly I heard this whirring noise. Oh God No! I remember thinking and suddenly jumping, almost feeling like my body had forced it's-self to take a breath. The next thing I heard was "Beep, Beep, Beep." And a woman's voice: "She's Back!"

After that, it seemed time kind of slowed down and things were a little fuzzy. I remember someone immobilizing my leg and thinking, at least it should stop hurting now that it's casted. I remember the hospital staff cutting my clothes off and rolling me back and forth as they placed sheets under and over me. I also have a vague recollection of someone inserting a Foley catheter in me. I remember opening my eyes and seeing a woman in blue scrubs laying a sheet over me and turning to fiddle with instruments that were laying on one of those metal OR rolling tables. A machine was still pumping air into my lungs and I remember sort of looking around with my one good eye. I could hear water running and people shuffling around, but no-one was directly in my line of sight. Than I heard someone say "Anesthesia - she's awake!"

After that - I don't remember anything else.

I was talking to our accident attorney on the phone about a week or so ago, and she said she'd sent my medical records to the claims adjuster for settlement. I found it interesting when she started talking about my admission and discharge from ICU; because, at the time she'd said that - I didn't recall having been in the ICU.

After I'd thought about this for a day or so; I did remembered having been moved from one area of the hospital and being upset because my TV suddenly didn't work. I wanted to watch TV - like I had been watching where I was previously, but I couldn't get any channels. Than I remembered one of the nurses telling me: "Well, you came from the ICU - you get free TV there."

Oh bummer!

So there is my odd "Near Death Experience". Real or not - don't know? All I know is that this car accident and the fallout there of - gets more intriguing as time goes on!

Here without you.

2010-09-03T22:09:00.000-07:00

"A thousand lies have made me colder,
and I don't think I can look at this the same."
(Here without you - 3 Doors Down)

"Oh Shit!"

"Boo honey - Boo honey it's O.K. We're all still alive."
At least right now we all are. I remember thinking.

"<-->, are you O.K.?"
"No, my leg is broken."
"Mine is too."
"Can you see Boo? Is he O.K.?"

No answer. (He's trying to get out of the car.)
"<-->. <-->!"
Still no answer. I turn my head as far as I can and look out of the corner of my eye at Boo. He looks like something out of a horror movie. His forehead is split open; looks like hamburger meat. His whole head is covered in blood. He is holding his hands up in front of him, screaming hysterically. I turn back around. <--> is talking to the driver of the pick-up truck. I start vomiting all over myself. The other driver runs to a near by house to call 911. <--> sits with his back to us. Boo is still screaming. I reach my hand behind me and hold his bloody pant leg.

Several minutes pass. Other citizens traveling Short Track Road come upon the accident and stop to render aid. <--> tells them who's in the car. Names, birth dates, medical conditions. He never turns around though. Never speaks to us. Never looks at us.

A few days later while in the hospital; I'm laying there listening to <--> speak to others on the phone. He goes on in extensive detail about his own injuries and ordeal. Not till he's prompted by the other party though does he offer any information about Boo or myself. I remember feeling rather sick thinking - I'm sitting right in the same room with him and now even three days later, he still doesn't seem to know what happened to me?

He goes through 2 or 3 phone conversations before I ask him. "<-->, you know I lost my right eye don't you?" "What do you mean?" He suddenly sounds shocked. "Did they take it out?" "No, it's still there." I tell him. "But the doctors say I'm never going to see out of it again. Our broken bones will heal; but my eye is not going to get better." I told him as I sat there and cried a little bit. "No, I didn't know that." He says. "I didn't know anything about the condition you were in." He goes on. "I didn't know anything about the condition (Boo) was in until they told me they were going to discharge him." "Did you ask?" I inquired. "I'm sure they would have told you if you'd asked. They told me what had happened to you."

The following day; <-->'s condition began to deteriorate. 12 hours later, they put him in the ICU Step down unit. The evening before this, they had sent me to the rehab unit. We'd spent two days in one room together. The second day <--> had a blood transfusion and was having trouble breathing. He was just about to pass out when the nursing staff rushed in and hurriedly put him back in bed. (Physical Therapy had come up and helped us both to get into chairs.)

After my first day of rehab, I hurried down to the ICU to go see <-->. I only had 10 minutes or so because they wouldn't let visitors in the ICU after 5 PM. I only spent a few minutes actually visiting. He was in the burn unit and it was only 65 degrees in his room. He said the room was great, it was real quiet and he got free cable. He was watching basketball. After telling me about all the scores; he said he didn't know what was wrong with him. He couldn't seem to catch his breath and he would suddenly get hot and than cold. I told him he couldn't breath because he has blood clots in his lungs and he was getting hot and cold on account of his body was having trouble regulating it's-self because of the trauma he'd been through. He mumbled something about hearing that from the doctors; but still seemed rather mystified as to why he was really there.

The following afternoon, I'd come down to see him again. This time he was really puzzled as to why I was the only one visiting him. I said. "Your in the ICU - right now, I'm the only one they are going to let in here." I told him that the ICU only allowed immediate family and than I proceeded to inform him that his brother and parents were coming. "What?" He said, seemingly totally baffled. "Why are they coming up here? They live all the way in North Carolina. That doesn't make any sense!" I just sat back and kind of looked at him. "You're in the ICU. The medical condition you're in is serious enough to be potentially fatal." He just sort of looked at me like I was speaking Chinese. "Well, none of the doctors have told me that I'm going to die." He said. "Well that's because you may not die." I explained. "Friday morning when they brought you in here, you had four blood clots in your lungs. Any one of those blood clots could kill you. I'm not saying that it's going too; but it could. That's why you're here. Don't you realize that?"

Four days later he came to the rehab unit. A little more than two weeks later we were both discharged from the hospital. One week after coming home from the hospital. "I think we should separate." He tells me.

In the weeks following the accident; we each told several friends of our experiences. Some people had come over with dinner. "When I saw that pick-up truck coming right at me - I was pretty sure I wasn't going to survive this." I remember telling them. They looked at <--> inquiring if he too felt the same way. "Oh no, I knew I was going to survive." He stated rather confidently. "What kind of shape was I going to be in was the real question." He continued.

He went on to explain that he had concluded that if he'd veered one way; he was sure he would have gotten killed, so he veered the other way. Yes, this improved his chances of survival - which was good for him; except I was the buffer between him and the pick-up truck.

A horrible grinding of metal brought me back to consciousness as Boo started screaming again. "It's O.K. it's O.K. We're cutting you out of the car." I remember the firemen telling him. "Don't cut me! Don't cut me!" Boo wailed. "It's OK big guy; we're not going to cut you. We're just cutting the door open." Several minutes later they'd pried the door off and pulled him from the car. I vaguely remember them rolling him away; laying on a gurney still in his car seat, they loaded him into the back of an ambulance.

The paramedic was squatting next to me holding my head as they put the neck brace on me. I'd come too once more to throw up again. My abdomen hurt, my chest hurt. "I think I'm going to die." I mumbled to the medic. "Well, we are going to do everything we can to prevent that from happening." He replied as I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through the nausea. "Hey, you gotta stay with me." He said rather forcefully. "You can't give up now; you got a little boy in that ambulance over there who needs you!"

The next thing I remember was the very eerie sound of creaking and popping metal. It sounded like the sinking ship from the movie Titanic. I opened my eyes to see what was happening. One of the firemen was using a spreader to pull the dashboard off my lap. I remember them leaning me sideways and rather forcefully heaving me out of the car. "Ahh, my leg is broken!" I hollered.

I could hear the chopper blades as they ran into a near by field and loaded me in. "I'm in a helicopter?" I remember mumbling. "Yes, this is Mercy Flight." The medic responded. "You were in a car accident. We are taking you to Strong Memorial Hospital in Rochester. It's going to be about a ten minute ride."

I listened to the chopper blades as we took off. The theme song to M.A.S.H momentarily ran through my mind until the motion of flight made me sick again. "I'm gonna throw up!" I yelled as they rolled me on my side. I remember a dull throb in my leg as they rolled me back onto my back. The sound of the chopper blades faded out of my mind until I suddenly realized they were pulling me out again. When the sunlight faded from my sight, I opened my one eye to see the lights and dark grey of the hospital hallway. I could hear the people talking, but couldn't understand them. My lungs felt funny as they mechanically filled with forced air. As I looked down, I could see a tube protruding from my mouth and a set of hands periodically squeezing a large rubber bulb. I couldn't move. I didn't even have the energy to breathe on my own. I never felt so helpless in my life.

The next thing I remember was suddenly coming too and throwing up again. I think this was the last time I got sick. I remember the nurses coming over and cleaning me off. I noticed I was laying in a bed and they where changing my hospital gown and the sheets. Once they'd gotten me dressed again and thrown a sheet and a couple of blankets on me; I reached up and put my hand on my face. I could feel the bandage over my eye. They must have operated on me. I thought to myself as I put my arm back down and passed out again. My throat was dry and my chest hurt something awful.

I'm not sure of this; but I think they resuscitated me in surgery. I know I stopped breathing in the chopper.

"Oh no, I knew I was going to survive." I still hear those words in my head. And how is it you were so sure of that? I wonder. I'm still trying to figure out what to do with that - in the face of being asked/told to leave now three weeks ago today. I've always said that if some one's redemption comes out of this car accident - it's worth a couple of broken bones. If that someone is my husband; for the sake of his own soul that's the best thing that could ever happen to him - even if God has to take me out of the way to do it!

Hold On

2010-08-09T20:36:00.000-07:00

     In this odd world when an event has been so traumatizing to the body - we can certainly be amazed at what our brains will do. I had such an event a couple of weeks ago now; a memory of a conversation that had transpired between myself and the hospital staff the evening of the car accident.

Hold onto your hats folks - this was weird even for me!

     Now I've gone through several sleepless nights since this car accident occurred. I've had several anxiety attacks - of which I'm not sure where they came from or what is triggering them. I feel like I'm going to jump out of my skin. (Just typed "jump out of my sin" - man I wish I could do that - Freudian slip I guess.) Needless to say; I have noticed that I'll have two or three anxiety attacks before I suddenly remember something.

     Any ways! I was having such a night just about two weeks ago now. I was so uncomfortable and my pain level was slowly climbing, so I took and extra Oxycontin and got back into bed. I've been rubbing my sore knees (and legs & back) with massage oil every evening before I go to bed. I'd just finished doing so when I laid down to close my eyes.

     Now I'm not one who's "into" this notion of "out of body experiences", but I have had them. Both of which happened at the time of this car accident. Now, I don't actually believe my soul left my body. I think they are something our minds do under a great deal of duress. Apparently human beings have the ability to project our conscience outside of ourselves at times when our bodies feel threatened. It's a form of disassociation and I think our minds can do that as a means of protecting ourselves from the shock of a very physically overwhelming event.

     So of my "out of body experiences" I've had two. The first being I'm standing outside the car, behind a woman who's trying to help me, looking at myself in the car.
     In the second, I saw this image of myself running through the hospital hallways looking for none other than Jesus. (I think my discomfort that evening was reminiscent of the pain I'd felt during my first few days after the accident.)
I remember thinking to myself - I know he's here; I can feel his presence. So sort of like a dream - I could see myself running through the hospital looking for Jesus.
     I knew this dissociative episode was out of character for reality, not because of who I was looking for, but simply because I knew I was too injured to actually be walking. In the "real world" - I was in so much pain in those few days following the accident, that I couldn't even roll myself over. I needed help to be repositioned.
     Ironically though, I was looking for Jesus because I was absolutely convinced that he'd been present in bodily form in my hospital room. In my mind; he'd been laying in the hospital bed next to me watching TV and holding my hand while I slept. I think I'd imagined this to be true because it was the only comfort that helped me to sleep when the drugs where only taking the edge off of the pain. I couldn't move, I couldn't roll over and so the idea of God actually coming to sit next to me in my hour of distress - just for the one moment at a time that I could manage - made the whole ordeal tolerable.
     Eventually, at some point that evening I'd awoken only to find that the someone I was sure had been sitting there a moment ago was suddenly missing. In my mind, apparently Jesus had gotten up and left the room for some unbeknown reason to me - and I kept calling for the hospital staff to go find him. At first they kept telling me my husband was down on the fifth floor, assuming that's who I was looking for. "No, not him!" I kept saying. "I'm not looking for him. I know where he is." I'd found that out when I'd asked someone where my son was and they'd volunteered all information as to what floors everyone was located on.
     Than one of the nurses told me my brother and sister had been by to see me.  "Oh, I know where he went now!" I suddenly blurted out. "He went down stairs to tell the people on the children's floor to keep my brother away from Boo." I'd concluded. "Page down there and tell them to send him back up here." I told the nurses. They both still looked confused. "Who does she want?" One inquired of the other. "Jesus!" I responded. "I want Jesus."
     "Jesus? Jesus who?" I recall one of them remarked. "Jesus, Jesus Christ - you know - the guy who rose from the dead today - It's Easter Sunday - remember?" Was my returning comment. The two nurses just sort of stood there looking at each other mumbling something about how the doctors believed I'd had a head injury. Needless to say, after about 45 minutes of my insistence that they go find Jesus - they paged a chaplain.
     I don't remember the chaplain coming; but for the next day, as I was about to go into surgery for my leg, this same chaplain asked me if I'd remembered him from the previous night. Needless to say - I was making more sense the next morning; even though for the life of me I couldn't remember what day it was. I told this chaplain that no - I didn't remember him coming the night before - had I asked for someone? He only commented that chaplains commonly visit trauma patients who've just come in and that yes, he'd come to see me; but I really wasn't making much sense that evening and the doctors were concerned that I'd had a head injury.

     Now as for the head injury notion; I suspect now that it was probably true. In the beginning, I did have some problems with short term memory and since - I've had some rather odd episodes of vertigo. Needless to say though; I don't think a head injury was totally to blame for my impaired sense of reality that night. I came out of the car accident, not sure I was going to survive and apparently that evening in the hospital I was a little confused as to the state of my existence. I obviously wasn't putting two and two together; that if I was laying in a hospital bed - apparently I wasn't dead. Being somewhere stuck in that state of limbo in my mind, it made perfect sense to me to be looking for Jesus. After all, if I had died - He'd be the first one I'd expect to see.
     Odd as this may sound; as soon as I did realize that because I was in a hospital, I had indeed survived and probably wasn't going to die after all - an overwhelming sense of despair suddenly hit me. I remember crying in the hospital and I'd cried at home also when I remembered this. To this day though, I'm not sure what the despair was about. I do suppose I was a little disappointed that it apparently wasn't my time, but I also knew I'd survived for a reason. I don't recall being particularly distressed over the time and energy recovering from this car accident would take. Nor was I upset at all the people who'd put in such time, energy and money to preserve my life. I knew they'd done a good and noble thing. They'd saved a life, that's what human beings are inherently suppose to do. Even so, none of this made me feel any better and I'd spent quite a bit of time crying for a reason that even now - I can't really pinpoint.

     A couple of weeks have passed since I've remembered this portion of the whole incident and since thus, the memory of what happened from the last minutes of the chopper ride into the hospital have resurfaced. That's a story for some future post though. For right now; I'm still half trying to figure this one out. I do suspect this memory and the most current one are connected. It may take a bit to sort it out though because unfortunately this car accident has raised other issues that have suddenly become momentous in life.
     Prior to this accident, my marriage had certainly had it's troubles. Since thus though, it has totally fallen apart and a little over a week ago; my husband - in no shorter words - stated that he wants Boo and I to move out. There have been problems for a long time now and after much attempted assistance from pastors, social workers and family members - I'm currently looking for a job and marshaling my supports to endure the long run of what's ahead. I have a lot of obstacles in my path and I've prayed quite a bit for help and guidance. Regardless of how impossible things look at the moment though - I know God hasn't brought me this far to drop me on my head now! I feel pretty peaceful despite the chaos around me and the physical discomfort I'm in.

Hold On - 33 Miles

I've been there a thousand times;
I've felt the pain like a thousand knives
and it hurts. I know it hurts.
I've been there like a fighter plane
trying to fly my way through a hurricane
and it's hard - I know it's hard.
Don't be afraid, you'll make it through;
just call out to me and I'll come running to you!

And hold on - hold on - when the current pulls you under
and your heart beats like thunder - just give me your hand - and hold on
Hold on - until the storm is over - and I'll be fighting for you - Just give me your hand - and hold on.

I'll give you hope, I'll give you faith
and if it's dark I'll light the way - for you - for you.
Right by your side until the end,
Until your standing tall again,
I'll be here - I'll always be here.
And if the tide sweeps you out to sea;
When your faith is gone and it's hard to believe;

Hold on - hold on - when the current pulls you under and your heart beats like thunder - just give me your hand - and hold on

Hold on - until the storm is over - and I'll be fighting for you - Just give me your hand - and hold on.

My Longest Night - Facing Death

2010-07-03T20:52:00.000-07:00

I’ve been pondering this back and forth now since the accident happened. Watching this pick-up truck come strait at me and being so sure on some level that it was my appointed day - so I closed my eyes and waited.

(“It is appointed unto man once to die....”)

Frankly, I was shocked when I opened my eyes (or rather opened the only one I could see out of) and realized I indeed had survived the impact. Boo’s screaming momentarily snapped me out of my daze. There aint nothing on this earth that compares to the shrieks of a truly terrified child; anyone who’s heard it - knows what I’m talking about. I remember telling Boo that it was OK; “We are all still alive.” - (or at least for the present we are all still alive.) I remember thinking to myself.

The next thought that popped into my head was - and if I’m going to stay that way - God, You gotta help me; (and if not - than please help Boo.)

Until very recently; I didn’t remember those thoughts and was puzzled why it seemed to me my mind had been so blank. I mean I didn’t remember pleading with God to let me live, or my life flashing before my eyes, or screaming in terror; or anything you hear people commonly report just before they think they are going to die. Nothing. None of it. None of that happened. I just closed my eyes and patiently waited for what I expected would be death to overtake me.

It all transpired so quickly that I didn’t even have time to ponder what I thought I might see on the other side. It had always seemed reasonable to me, that I’d open my eyes and be staring Jesus Christ in the face. I’ve seriously contemplated death before, wondered about it and even dreamt about it; but this was the first time I’d ever literally been so close too it. I’ve confronted war, been in the middle of a street shooting, on numerous occasions nearly fallen out of moving vehicles and was once in a gas station fire. Not to mention, years ago grappling with crippling depression, standing on the girding under a bridge staring down (approx) 190 feet into Irondequoit Bay.

Of all my encounters with mortality; I’d still assess the bridge incident to be the most dire. The reason being that the depths of my own fallen depravity is what had brought me there. It was not by chance, incident or accident. Even though I believe depression is a medical illness and there are many factors that contribute to the hopelessness of suicide - at the bottom line though - it still boils down to choice. Now the forces that influence such a drastic option - that’s the frightening part - because there truly is a certain and distinct evil that pushes people to self destruction.

About two months had passed since my most recent death encounter, when I was home taking care of the breakfast dishes and a song came on the radio.

I made You promises a thousand times
I tried to hear from heaven, but I talked the whole time.
I think I made You too small, I never feared You at all; no.
If You touched my face, would I know You?
Looked into my eyes, could I behold You?

What do I know of You, who spoke me into motion?
Where have I ever stood, but on the shore along Your ocean?
Are You fire? Are You fury?
Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?
What do I know?
What do I know of Holy?

I guess I thought that I had figured You out.
I knew all the stories and I learned to talk about,
How You were might to save.
Those were only empty words on a page.
Then I caught a glimpse of who You might be.
The slightest hint of You brought me down to my knees.

What do I know of You, who spoke me into motion?
Where have I ever stood, but on the shore along Your ocean?
Are You fire? Are You fury?
Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?
What do I know?
What do I know of Holy?

What do I know of Holy?
What do I know of wounds that will heal my shame?
And a God Who gave life it’s name?
What do I know of Holy?
Of the One who the angels praise?
All creation knows Your name.
On earth and heaven above,
What do I know of this love?

What do I know of You, who spoke me into motion?
Where have I ever stood, but on the shore along Your ocean?
Are You fire? Are You fury?
Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?

What do I know?

What do I know of Holy?

(lyrics by Addison Road)

Now it’s isn’t that I’ve never spent time pondering righteousness, justice and wrath - as in death being the legitimate outcome there of. Oh yes, I’d certainly spent years consumed in worry over the rightful indignation I am certainly worthy of being on the receiving end of. It dawned on me in a new way though; what this brush with death really meant. This time around; I hadn’t escaped life threatening injury. I sat there in the kitchen for a long time thinking about it. I rolled away from the radio with a certain understanding that I should have died in that chopper.

I cried for a long time that morning and later on, talked to a friend of mine about how often it is we fail to even acknowledge God; not to say really be grateful for Him simply being mindful of any of us at any given moment. If any one of us would perish, there really is no good reason why God should even notice. Yet He does. I know so, because my heart kept beating and I kept breathing all the way to the hospital. It wasn’t until I woke up from my first surgery that I knew for sure I wasn’t going to die.

It’s humbling and frightening to consider how this frail body of mine was snatched from the jaws of destruction. Yeah, I’ve endured broken bones, lacerations and blindness; yet God granted me another breath. Beyond philosophical explanations and theological answers about death; I personally was bestowed life. The “questions” now are no longer questions. They are not theories, or just things to ponder. Nor has this been a mere experience either. It’s a certain Divine revelation of the reality of God’s goodness. He gives life, He takes it away. Whether He gives it or takes it; I’d come to the realization that I was not going to fight Him over it.

So, not really knowing what was going to happen. I simply surrendered myself to what ever it was that would come next. I knew with a certain surety that I was just as helpless to “pull life” from God as I was to pull myself from the wreckage. Not only did I feel totally helpless; I knew I was totally helpless. I didn’t even have the state of mind to know what to do to help myself even if I thought I could.

I have a vague recollection of coming to, so I’d be conscious enough not to aspirate from all the vomiting. That was the point that I told one of the paramedics that I thought I was going to die. His response was “Well, we’re going to do every thing we can to prevent that from happening.” The fact that he didn’t deny that possibility was an eerie revelation. I remember thinking: Well God, if You want me to live - You’re gonna have to make it happen. That was just before they put me on a back board and pulled me from the car.

Now after typing all this; what other conclusion can I come to other than God decides who lives and who dies. It’s often said that God picks the day and the dying pick the hour. After my experience though; I’m inclined not to believe that there is even a shade of truth to that. Under certain circumstances; I suppose God may afford the luxury of someone’s postponing the inevitable for what ever reason.

Even so; I’m still left to contemplate that state of mind that so easily threw my fate upon the hands of God’s determination. Do I really think I’ve come to a kind of faith that trusts God invariably and explicitly? If so; that even surprises me! I’ve heard people boast of how deep their belief in God is. For me though; I realize that this accident produced no conscious choices upon my part; just reactions to what was.

Also what puzzled me for some time was that I had no special worries about life or death. I didn’t particularly think of Boo, my husband or even myself. As I contemplated this more though; I realize that this too sprang too from something other than callousness. It’s not that I didn’t care about them and I wasn’t absorbed in fear over what was to become of me. I was just waiting to see what God would do. I knew on some level that He was going to care for them, just as He would care for me. This may seem rather simplistic but; in life or death; mine or theirs - we are all clay pots belonging to the same Potter.

So, there’s those pondering(s), trying to string all these some what disjointed thoughts together. I’ve come to realize that’s how this process works though. None of the events of our lives are neatly packaged together with professionally written running narratives. Nope, the jumbled mess of thoughts we’re left to figure out for ourselves. So thus - I’m not too worried about “the make sense of it all” that often crushes the spirit of the writer’s pen. Maybe some day this story will be neatly cleaned and precisely written. For now though - it’s just an armature’s blog - so what difference does that make.

UPDATE:
I had my eye surgery on the 22nd of June; and but for the grace of God - I can actually see something out of this eye. It’s very blurry though and by far I’m not finished with “eye tweakings”. I will have another surgery in about 6 months that will undoubtedly improve the blurriness of my sight. In this surgery, they cleaned out the eye, reattached the retina, removed the lense and put a saline bulb in the eye to keep everything in place while hopefully - it heals up. If all continues to go well (and the retina stays in place); they will remove the saline bulb and put a new lense in. As for the pupil, I will probably either have to wear a contact lense to control the amount of light; or adjusting glasses. The dilation of the pupil is controlled by the optic nerve; and since the optic nerve is damaged, there’s nothing that can be done about the pupil dilation.

As for my leg, I just got the go ahead to be weight bearing. A requisition went in for physical therapy and so I should be starting that by the end of this week. I’m excited, though I expect I may need another knee surgery. The most recent x-ray showed the meniscus has been torn on the right side of the knee cap. I’ve noticed the more I walk on it, the more swollen and painful my knee gets - not a good thing. So - I may have two surgeries ahead of me still. Time will tell.

Facial Recognition “Technology”

2010-06-19T21:18:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I know - odd title for a post. So, here’s for lending explanations.

I’d gotten myself “out of the shower” the other day; (every thing now just seems like an arduous task that takes forever to complete - wheelchair complications I suppose) anyways; I took a look at myself in the mirror and for the first time, I realized I recognized the person looking back at me. Yeah, I know that may seem kind of odd too. I’ve heard of people going through stressful times in their lives and suddenly realizing upon passing their own reflection that they don’t recognize themselves. The “I don’t know who that person is anymore” syndrome. I know many can relate to that; myself included in a strange sort of way now.

Well, my taste of this isn’t maybe so typical of the “psychological splitting” that people generally associate with this phenomena; yet I’m sure that people who’s appearances have been permanently altered by one event or another can relate. One of the predominant and ever remaining reminders of this car accident I now carry is the change in my face. I have several noticeable scars left at points where the glass from my window lacerated my face. The largest of which runs from the corner of my right eye down to the corner of my nose. Not to mention that my right pupil is quite a bit larger than my left; of which that too is also a permanent fixture of my now altered image.

While I was in the hospital; I knew my face was scarred from my injuries. Every time I looked in the mirror; even though I knew who was looking back at me - I wasn’t at the point where I was ready to recognize myself. Besides being all swollen and covered. It took several days before I could gather the courage to take the eye patch off and look at the right side of my face. I knew it was me; though to me, I didn’t look like me. As the swelling has subsided and my eye is surprisingly looking cosmetically well; I’ve come to a certain acceptance of what I now look like. That face staring back at me in the mirror is mine. I may be forever altered, like I’ve been by so many other things in my life - but I’m still me!

When the occupational therapist came to first evaluate me at home. She said she was surprised and impressed at how well I’d adapted to being in the wheelchair. She assessed me to be safe and to have employed quite a bit of creative ingenuity in accomplishing the tasks I’d set out to do. My simple response was that I knew if I was going to get better; I had to do it because no-one was going to do it for me. And so thus I also think this is the crossroads I’ve come to with what has happened to my face. It’s my face and if I don’t claim it - no-one else will!

So with this and all the time I have home now - I’ve been spending a spell allowing my wardrobe to once again entertain me. Shukr was having a sale and with some extra money a girlfriend had so generously given; I’d purchased a few things - a skirt, jeans, several tops and two scarves. So with spending some time in the “frivolous pursuit of fashion” I’ve decided to post some pictures of some of the things I’ve purchased and some minor alterations embarked upon to - much like my face - make them mine!

Here is one of the scarves I'd gotten. Surprisingly it matches a pair of pants I'd already had quite well. Unfortunately, the pants met a certain fate with a few splashes of bleach. Needless to say; I'd made a little run to “Wally World” (Walmart) one afternoon and bought some color remover and dye to re-dye the pants. They came out pretty well. (Photo of them to come.)

Here's the other scarf. This one was also a surprise. It just happened to match a shirt I already had.

These last two were taken before the accident. They actually have just been "sitting" on my computer now for some time. The red butterfly scarf I'd actually found in a hospital gift shop when a friend of mine had neck surgery back in February. Ironic - ehh?

The Longest Night

2010-06-01T09:02:00.000-07:00

I looked up as we were swerving out of the way of the on-coming pick-up truck. When I saw him swerve back toward us. My first thought was: What is he trying to kill us? At the point I realized the accident was unavoidable; I closed my eyes. This white pick-up was coming strait at me and I was sure I wasn’t going to survive. So I just waited for it to happen.

In the first week or so post the car accident, I didn’t remember much about the day it’s-self. I’d thought I’d passed out for much of the incident; but since, have began to remember bits and pieces. I do remember the impact, even though my eyes were closed. I remember the jolt, the noise of the crash and Boo screaming. When I did open the one I could see out of: I looked around at the state of things and realized - yes, we did collide, apparently I’d survived even though the car hadn’t.

The air-bags had deployed and there was glass and blood every where. I also remember the smell of anti-freeze and the blood curdling screaming of my son. I tried to console Boo; but I don’t know if he even heard me. People traveling Short Track Road stopped to lend aid. I remember the driver of the pick-up truck had gotten out of his truck and come over to my husband’s side of the car to see how we were. I remember my husband was half turned away from us; which was probably good that he couldn’t see Boo or myself; since our faces and heads were all bloody. The other driver ran to a local house to get help and I vaguely remember a passer-by giving me a towel to put over my face. I know at least two people were talking to Boo and trying to help him though this.

Later Boo told me that he’d actually seen the accident happen. He’d put his hands up and his head down just prior to impact. He’d said the glass that cut the two of us so badly had come from the passenger window, not the windshield. He also remembers that he was the first one the firemen took from the car. They cut his door open. I do remember the grinding of the saw “woke me up”. They took Boo car seat and all and loaded him into the back of an ambulance. Thank God for Britex! Since Boo is older than most kids still in car seats; (on account of his epilepsy) it’s a small miracle he’s still here. The car seat saved his life!

(Most automobile manufactures recommend children be in booster seats until they are about 100 pounds. Car seatbelts are not as effective on people under five feet and under 110 pounds. They often don’t lock properly in a crash if the passenger isn’t heavy enough to engage the locking device at the point of impact. Thus the child bounces around the inside of the car because the seatbelt doesn’t hold them to the seat. The number one cause of serious injury and death in children between 7 and 12 years old is car accidents.)

I don’t remember the fire sirens, but my first memory of the firemen who was the first to assess the scene was him yelling “WE NEED TWO BIRDS!” and “This one goes first.”. He was looking at the state of my husband; who's femur was broken and nearly protruding through his leg. I don’t remember them removing him from the car, although I know they took him first. They needed the “Jaws of Life” to get me out and at that point I remember the sound of the choppers coming. I don’t remember being neck braced or back-boarded; but I do remember them pulling me from the car because I yelled my leg was broken. Through this whole ordeal; that was the only pain I remember - my leg hurting when they pulled me from the car.

My next conscious memory was the sound of the chopper blades when they loaded me into the helicopter. The medic responded to my recognition of the swooping noise. He said “Yes, this is Mercy Flight. You were in a car accident and we are taking you to Strong Memorial Hospital. It’s going to be about 10 minutes.” The chopper blades were very loud and I started thinking for a minute about my days in the Navy. I’d drop out of consciousness and suddenly come to screaming that I had to throw up. They’d roll me onto my side and than back onto my back. My leg throbbed rather dully and I’d remember 3 more incidence of sudden vomiting before the last time I finally woke up after my first surgery.

Sunday night I woke up in recovery crying for someone to turn me because my back hurt so bad. The nurse came and rolled me on my side shoving pillows under my leg and back. Some where between my memory of the chopper and waking up in recovery; I have a vague recollection of someone splinting my leg. I’d thought to myself - Good, at least it will stop hurting once it’s immobilized .

It wasn’t until I’d woken up in recovery and they’d moved me to the 7th floor that I realized I was indeed going to survive this accident. I remember time crawling by between that evening I’d come out of my first surgery and the next morning when they were to operate on my leg. I’d wake up and look at the clock, than wake up 20 minutes later; look at the sunset out the window and think I’d slept for 12 hours. (Oh look it’s morning already!)

Of all the things that have happened in my life - the evening of the accident was my longest night!

The eye surgeon and plastic surgeons later told me what they’d come into when I first arrived at the hospital. The eye surgeons worked first. Dr. Haidar said he originally thought I had a small little hemorrhage, until he got into my eye. Than he said I had the biggest hemorrhage he’d ever seen. My eye was “classified” as “globe rupture - blow out” and the prognosis of regaining sight was originally listed as “poor”.

The plastic surgeons said the laceration in my face was so deep that it was laid open down to my skull. They had to reset my nose and stitched from just above the eye down to the right corner of my nose. They also stitched one laceration above my eyebrow and stapled another wound in my hairline. Even today; half my nose, the sight above the incision and my front teeth are numb. The plastic surgeons said that feeling may or may not come back. If it does; it will come back within the next year.

As for my right eye; we are still waiting on the outcome of that one. I can see light and motion in that eye; which makes the doctors hopeful that they can improve my sight. I do know my retina is detached, there is blood in the eye and damage to the optic nerve. The doctors believe the retina can be fixed. They will clean out the blood and remove the lense in that eye. (They know it is now misplaced within the eye.) As for the optic nerve; there is not much they can do about that. If I can regain sight; they will likely have to put in a contact lense that will help control the amount of light entering the eye. The optic nerve is what controls the dilation of the pupil and since my pupil doesn’t dilate and contract the way it should; they know it’s damaged. How damaged though, right now they can’t tell because the excess blood really prevents them from being able to see into the eye. So once I get passed the pneumonia and to the surgery; I will know more about that eye’s prognosis.

I'm Reminded that so much more happened on Easter Sunday than a car accident!

2010-04-27T15:31:00.000-07:00

It was Easter Sunday and my husband, myself and our son were headed down Short Track Road in Portageville on our way to Easter brunch at Anastasia’s when we were hit head on. Easter will forever remain burned in my memory as a day that so much more happened than a car accident; for I’m reminded that on that holy day Jesus rose from the dead to save sinners from an eternity in hell.

To those first responders, the mercy flight medics and the staff at Strong Memorial Hospital. Thank you for your compassionate care and may God continue to bless your training, talents and personal drives to save lives. We wouldn’t be here without you!

To the driver of the other vehicle. I pray God grant you peace from the regret and remorse you feel on account of this accident. I’m honestly grateful you were not seriously hurt yourself. Your being in the hospital too would not have made our suffering any less painful. May God be as close to your soul in your healing process as He is to us in ours.

In Christ

Renee Nichols

http://www.democratandchronicle.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2010100404008

"Boo" Update. ("I don't believe in God")

2010-03-22T18:08:00.000-07:00

Well, several weeks have passed now and “Boo” and I have continued our conversations on God, belief and doubt. He expressed to me about a week ago that he believes in God and at the same time doesn’t believe in God. I’m not sure what he means by that and I’m not sure he is either. When I’ve asked him to explain it - of course he can’t come up with the words.

“I believe, help thou my unbelief”
After a little more conversation; (in which “Boo” communicated much of his thoughts and feelings on a dry erase board) I told him of a man who had his own doubts. I said. “He had a child, that just like you, had Epilepsy. This dad told Jesus that he believed and asked Jesus to help his unbelief.” “Boo” looked at me a minute and than got up and ran off to play with the other kids who’d just gotten out of the worship service.

That day on the way home from church; “Boo” was talking to me and all the sudden he stopped. I waited a minute or two to see what else he might have to say when I realized he was listening to the song that was playing in the CD.

“.....Lord I believe, only help my unbelief -
till there’s no more faith, and no more hope;
I see Your face, and Lord I know. .....
There’s only love....”

“Boo” didn’t say anything in regards to the song; but I could tell he was absorbing it; (along with absorbing the fact that he isn’t the only one in history who’s ever doubted God)! Either way; I was glad to hear him say that he “half believes” even if this means he “half un-believes” at the same time. God works with either, both and most times - none at all!

As much as he struggles; I’d rather know he’s honest about it than have him hide his doubts, leaving his questions to no resolution at all.

- Been praying for ya for a long time “Boo” - and that aint gonna stop any time soon!

Beauty, Faith and "Weird" - What would you say?

2010-03-10T22:04:00.000-08:00

More Beautiful you:
(song lyric by Johnny Diaz)

Little girl fourteen flipping through a magazine;
says she wants to look that way.
But her hair isn't strait and her body isn't fake;
And she's always felt overweight.

Well, little girl fourteen; I wish that you could see,
that beauty is within your heart.
And you were made with such care; your skin, your body and your hair,
are perfect just the way they are!

There could never be a more beutiful you.
Don't buy the lies disguises and hoops they make you jump through!
You were made to fill a purpose, that only you could do;
So there could never be a more beautiful you.

Little girl twenty-one, things that you've already done;
anything to get ahead!
And you say you've got a man, but he's got another plan
only wants what you will do instead

Well little girl twenty-one, you never thought this would come;
you starve yourself to play the part.
But I can promise you, there's a Man who's love is true;
And He'll treat you like the jewel you are!

There could never be a more beutiful you.

Don't buy the lies disguises and hoops they make you jump through!
You were made to fill a purpose, that only you could do;
So there could never be a more beautiful you.

So turn around, you're not too far;
To back away, be who you are;
To change your path go another way;
It's not too late you can be saved.

If you feel depressed with past regrets;
The shameful nights hope to forget;
Can disappear, they can all be washed away;

By the One who's strong, can right your wrongs;
Can rid your fears, dry all your tears;
And change the way, you look at this big world.
He will take your dark distorted view;
And with His love He will show you truth;
And again you'll see through the eyes of a little girl!

There could never be a more beutiful you.
Don't buy the lies disguises and hoops they make you jump through!
You were made to fill a purpose, that only you could do;
So there could never be a more beautiful you!

So here we are - (some chick's blog) and looking at a song about girl's / women's concept of beauty, body image, self esteem and the such like.

What is the post really about though?
It's about a little boy with Autism.
What? - Yeah, a little boy with Autism.

Now anyone who's read this blog knows the little boy I will most likely be making reference to is my own son. Yes, I know this seems odd - what does this song have anything to do with Autistic boys? Well pull up a chair; grab a cup of tea and let me tell you a little story.

Scripting:
Every so often; I’ve noticed that “Boo” sometimes will pull a real zinger out every once in awhile. I’ve come to the conclusion that he does this because there’s something he’s trying to clear up in his head and he needs some help. He makes attention grabbing statements, in which I think he realizes they will be conversed upon later. (A sort of round about way of bringing up something he’s struggling with.) Usually the “zinger” is: “I don’t believe in God.” (or “I don’t believe in Jesus.”)

I’ve learned not to “react” to these statements because experience has come to teach me that what “Boo” may mean by any given statement isn’t necessarily how I’ve interpreted it. He often will repeat phrases in which individual words he may not know what they mean, although his speech appears to reflect an appropriate context. In the world of Autistic Spectrum Disorders (ASD); this is called “scripting”.

The Autistic person will pick up words and phrases from a variety of contexts and use them in their speech in lieu of their own thoughts, because they have limited ability to novelly piece together conversation. If an appropriate response is not in their learned repertoire - they don’t know what to say. So they search all their known scripts to come up with a response. When they’ve learned a wide repertoire of scripts, they can often pick the appropriate response and carry on a conversation quite fluently. If they can’t find an appropriate script; they will pick the next one that might be right. If they are not very good at this, or only have a limited number of scripts: they may make comments that seem totally “off the wall”, or unrelated to the topic of conversation.

So, experience has taught me that when “Boo” pops out with one of his “zingers” - I need to help him find words to express himself. Often times this process is very agonizing; because I’m trying to guess what he’s thinking or feeling and he can’t come up with the words because it’s not a script he’s learned yet. We usually spend a good 30 to 45 minutes passing questions back and forth while he gets very frustrated for lack of being able to express himself.

“It’s not that I’m stupid - it’s that I’m weird!”
Well, to make a long story short - we had one of these exchanges about a week ago. I was asking him questions as to whether or not he felt stupid because I know learning via conventional school methods is very difficult for him. Because of this; kid’s Sunday School, reading Bible stories etc. is not something he likes to do. I know he’s felt this way in the past; so that is why I was asking him questions along that train. He was getting very frustrated when he finally blurted out: “It’s not that I’m stupid - it’s that I’m weird!”

I knew right at that point what he was talking about; and I didn’t know what to tell him. I knew what he’d been praying for was probably never going to happen. His Autism isn’t going to just go away. He climbed up on my bed and I hugged him. He laid there for about 10 minutes and I did my best to hold back my own tears. After that, he got up and went and played on the computer. I sat there for about a half hour and cried.

When I finally got up to get dinner started; this song “Beautiful you” came on the radio. I hurried up and went and got “Boo”. I told him to listen to the words of this song. Even though I know it’s about little girls struggling with what society tells them is beautiful. I told “Boo” even though you feel “weird” - listen to this song. “Don’t buy the lies disguises and hoops they make you jump through. You were made to fill a purpose, that only you can do; so there can never be a more beautiful you.” He seemed to feel a little better. He smiled and hugged me and than went back to his computer game.

It still leaves a nagging question in my soul though. How do I answer him?

Maybe it was a couple of days later; I was in the car driving to the eye doctor when another song came on the radio. I don’t know if any of you readers have ever heard this song. It’s by a group called Building 429 and the name of the song is “Always”. The first stanza caught my attention because I’m caught in this same struggle with “Boo”.

What am I suppose to say?

I was standing in the pouring rain one dark November night.
Fighting off the bitter cold, when she caught my eye.
Her face was taunt and her eyes were filled and to my surprise.
She pulled out a photograph and my heart just stopped inside.
She said: “He would have been three today. I miss his smile. I miss his face.”
What was I suppose to say?

So after thinking about this for three days now, I confessed to “Boo” today that I didn’t know the answer. I told him I could give him some big theological explanation as to why his Autism hasn’t miraculously disappeared; but I didn’t think that would help him. I asked him what he thought about the fact that his prayer wasn’t answered. He said “I don’t know.” It was quiet for a while as we drove down the road. I told him that despite the Autism; I believe God has a plan for his life. After another bit of silence; I acknowledged that I knew this was hard for him to talk about. He nodded and I told him I loved him.
He said “I know.”

But I believe always - always; our Savior never fails.
Even when all hope is gone.
God knows our pain and His promise remains;
He will be with you always.

He was living in a broken world, dreaming of a home.
His heart was barely keeping pace when I found him all alone.
Remembering the way he felt when his daddy said goodbye.
Fighting just too keep the tears and the anger locked inside.
He’s barely holding onto faith.
But deliverance is on it’s way.

‘Cause I believe always - always; our Savior never fails
Even when all hope is gone.
God knows our pain and His promise remains;
He will be with you - always.

Friend I don’t know where you are and I don’t know where you’ve been;
Maybe your fighting for your life, just about to throw the towel in;
But if your crying out for mercy, if there’s no hope left at all;
If you’ve given every thing you’ve got and your still about to fall.

Hold on
Hold on.

‘Cause I believe always - always; our Savior never fails
Even when all hope is gone.
God knows our pain and His promise remains;
He will be with you - always.

Dear God please help Boo - because I don't know what to tell him!

Life's Ramblings

2010-03-01T22:53:00.000-08:00

Oh, tis so much flying through life these days!

And Oh My Gorsh - I missed the whole month of February!
Think I’m stuck in a “bloggy bog”.

1. My “stylin refugee” friend just had neck surgery. (4 disks removed - 5 vertebrae fused! OUCH! Needless to say - she’s in rehab.)

2. My son’s seizures are just about totally out of control! (At least he aint having grand mals and we got a Neurology appointment soon.)

3. The other half of my house needs cleaning! (Did half of it Friday when my son was home from school on account of a big snow storm.)

4. Habitat for Humanity just seems extra busy lately. (I work on houses. We’ve been mudding walls. I like mudding walls - it almost boarders on fun!)

5. Been pondering many issues that pop up periodically grief, anger, faith, death. (Doesn’t that sound cheery!)

Seriously though; these days have been a bit more stressful than originally planned for! (So much for the best laid plans of mice and men - as they say.) So, I’ve spent a good portion of tonight catching up on blog reading, as well as perusing some new ones. So, thus I guess I would sum up all this recent nuttiness as just dealing with “Life on Life’s Terms”.

Frankly, I’d have to say - again - that Your grace amazes me. I got out of the car this afternoon, looked up at the cloud breaking blue sky and thought - Ya know I’m grateful that I aint drop down, laying dead in that nebulous black hole called “Depression”. That place I’d been in so many times before; which usually surfaces to bite me with the dawning of every February. Could that be why I totally skipped it - here in bloggy land? I don’t know? I’ve come to the conclusion that I really dislike the month of February! I’ve unilaterally decided that if I ever become President of the United States and thus leader of the free world - by executive order - I will totally eliminate February from the calender! Gone! Never to be found again.

Life aint that easy though.
I gotta deal with the month of February.
Ya know, that Life on Life’s Terms thing!

I really am grateful though for all the changes that have taken place over the years. I honestly and totally feel like a different person than I was back when Boo was born. You sent me that kid to literally save my life. I’ve never regretted his presence; autism and all. No matter what happens from here on out. Even if You take him from me - I’m glad I had the opportunity to know him.

I’ve spent a lot of time in “the quiet place” among the chaos lately. My “off the cuff” blog writing here (at 1 AM - cause I can’t sleep). So, the black hole of Cyberspace sucks up my prayers that someone on the other side of planet earth might read them. Oh who cares? I don’t and it doesn’t seem to me that You do either. It’s not a prayer made out of pretension that someone else might think I’m holy; (maybe weird - but not holy). It doesn’t matter though - I’ve been called worse!

Well, there’s a lot of other things I could say. People and events on my mind; “stuff” I could “ask for” - but - I think I’d rather just sit here. Sit here and think about tonight’s sunset. The aimless wanderings of one solitary soul rambling over the Internet. And still You hear me. You “sit” here with me in this tiny office filling the room like the light radiating out of the lone lamp in the ceiling. Nothing spectacular, nothing earth shattering. No great “sign”, “wonder” or any other thing a “wicked and adulterous generation” would “seek after”. No incoherent babbling or crazy wacked out behavior some “spiritual” person might look for. Nope - just some chick - who looks like she’s just sitting at a computer typing. No Deity to be “seen”. No hype, No fan fair; just a very profound sense of stillness. It’s quiet in my world tonight. A good time to rest.

So, Good Night!

My friend the "stylin refugee"

2010-01-25T20:56:00.000-08:00

These pics are of a friend of mine who wanted to know how to "go hijabie".

One day last winter we got together to go walking on the canal path. It was cold that day; so she brought two / three scarves and told me she wanted me to teach her how to do up the scarves.

As you can see; our first attempt left her literally looking like a refugee! So we nick-named this attempt:
"her stylin refugee look".

The next time around; we were at her apartment and she had some other scarves we experimented with. I took the pictures home; edited them and some of them came out pretty good.

This one she liked the best.

<------

This one I liked the best.
----------->

<-----

This one she didn't like at all.

"too tribal" she said.

This scarf actually came from my husband. He gave it to me for Christmas this year and I embellished it with embroidery from my sewing machine.

It was made in Indonesia as part of a World Vision outreach program. My husband currently has two sponsored children. One in Korea and one in South America. He could pick a gift as part of holiday donation and World Vision would send it to the recipient in honor of the program he'd chosen to donate to.

These scarves had been made by girls who'd been rescued from the sex trafficking "industry". World Vison runs several shelters / orphanages for women and girls who'd been removed from brothels in police raids. The girls who'd either been abducted or who's parents had been told something like they'd get $500. for letting their daughters go to work "cleaning hotels" in America; usually get returned to their families if possible. Most of the women and girls who've been rescued though are HIV positive and their families won't take them back. At that point World Vision works on placing them in programs so they can learn skills and works to help them avoid being re-trafficked.

These two pics both came out fairly well.

Oh what you can do with a scarf!

This one (down here) |
V

we both got a good laugh out of: is it crystal ball or chemo?

(Thus ends the "fashion show" of "the stylin refugee")

; D

Ahh - Don't ya just love the Good Will!

2010-01-25T19:44:00.000-08:00

Well, I’ve been seriously delinquent in the world of blogging! (Get out the wet noodle and beat me with it!) Seriously though; decided to post a couple of things I’ve picked up recently at the Good Will. Got some more “good buys” I’ve grabbed - just no pics of them yet!

Now here's a sweater! - Aint it just "yummy"! Yeah, it's one of them "hand washer jobbers" but I thought for $6.00 it was worth it!

Love it when I find stuff that matches a lot of things I already have!

That's the best way to shop!

This one here shirt I’ve come to appreciate for it’s once dull “blah” experiment that ended out working well! (As opposed to some of the many other “experiments” that weren’t quite “there”.)

The brown print "fluffy shirt" I'd picked up a few months back now at the good 'ol Good Will for $4.00 I knew I had other brown things but I wasn't sure what to wear it with?

Just before my son went in the hospital; I found the orange shirt. It was a nice "longie" so I had to grab it. It needed some "help" though. First of all; it was too large and had to be taken in. Secondly - it was too boring.

So , I chopped the arms off, made the body smaller and re-attached the sleeves. It's a stretchy type knit, that although I'd done some reshaping on the body of it; it still looked like I was wearing a potato sack. It's one of those kind of strange materials that if you make it too tight - it's worse than the "potato sack". So I didn't want to make it smaller.

Lastly I attached the lace around the bottom and the collar. It worked out well, because it give the bottom a little bit of a scalloped flair and made the collar a little more unique.

Even so; I wasn't really happy with what I was seeing; so I decided to try this "fluffy shirt" over the top. Thought it worked out pretty well. It gave the outfit just enough "shape" without being too "huggy".

So there - my latest "fashion trends"! : D

Christmas at Strong!

2010-01-04T02:12:00.000-08:00

"Children's Hospitals" have come a long way in the past 50 or so years. What started out as white sterile environments - became this:

These are pictures of the pediatric floor at Strong Memorial Hospital. There are a whole lot more "colorful walls" than what you see here! The floor contains a total of 6 medical units

1. Medical / surgical recovery unit

2. Intermediate Care unit

3. Medical unit

4. Adolescent unit

5. Pediatric cardiac ICU

6. Pediatric ICU

This floor is specifically a medical floor. Other services that are available for children in this hospital aren't in these units. For example: Pediatric mental health has it's own floor in the Behavioral Sciences section of the hospital. Birthing units and NICU are the floor below and bone marrow transplants for all patients are done on the 8th floor.) Strong Memorial Hospital is a huge medical complex. The hospital, the University and it's satellite facilities take up several city blocks.

Besides the patient units; this floor has a Ronald McDonald House parent coffee lounge - (of which the door you see above), a play deck - (not pictured), a school room - (which was closed because it was Christmas break), and a "Child Life" movie / toy loan closet - (the door of which is pictured above with the other clown on it0.

All this of course is in here:

Any one who's familiar with Rochester NY - knows this place!

And now so does this child!

This is my son - "Boo"

He's 7 years old and he has Epilepsy.

He was here for what is called "Long Term Monitoring" (LTM)

LTM is a diagnostic tool used to help doctors learn about a person's seizures. It is done on both children and adults; of which the objective is to capture a seizure on the EEG and on a video monitor. An EEG is a machine that records brain wave activity. Certain "abnormalities" in an EEG can be indicative of certain diseases, disabilities or medical conditions. A video monitor is also used in the LTM. Each LTM room is equipped with a video camera, the EEG recording equipment, a computer (part of the EEG machinery) and breathing resuscitation equipment - should a patient stop breathing during a seizure.

The patient has electrodes affixed (literally glued) to their head and EKG leads attached to their chest. LTM can last anywhere from a few days to two weeks. It all depends on how long it takes a patient to have a seizure, or how long the patient or parent can tolerate being hospitalized. The leads to the EEG are attached to a box that is put in a bag (or back pack) in which the patient wears. From this box there is a cable that attaches to the wall where the computer is. In addition, there is a monitor out in the nurse's station which sets off an alarm if the EEG records certain wave patterns that it interprets as "an event". If the patient (or parent) thinks a seizure is occurring (or about to occur) there is a button attached to the EEG box which marks the place on the EEG in which the suspected event has happened. At this particular hospital, all EEG's are also monitored by technicians up on the 5th floor. (Adult LTM is on the 5th floor.) If the techs see something obvious, they will also mark it for the doctors to review later.

Due to the equipment and the fact that patients are tethered to the wall and watched on video camera; (except when in the bathroom) LTM can be extremely boring. The newer EEG units have "break out" recording capacity where the patient can be detached from the wall and leave the room. The EEG will run on a battery for about an hour. This of course requires permission of the doctor. My son was allowed 1/2 hour a day to "go off the wall". as we called it. Being able to leave the room is highly dependent on what type of seizures a person has and when they are most likely to occur. 45% of Epilepsy patients only have seizures in their sleep and since this is the case with my son - his doctor allowed him a half hour a day to go to the play deck or walk the halls of the hospital.

When a patient goes for LTM; the doctors usually wean them off their meds and see what happens. Consequently, it's not uncommon for 3 to 4 days to pass before a seizure appears. Some people's brains a very stubborn though, and they can be in the hospital the full two weeks without ever having a seizure. This is what happened with my son. He was there 11 days with no obvious seizure.

So, if someone doesn't have a seizure - how do you know if they really have Epilepsy or not?

Diagnosis

The presence of an underlying seizure disorder can usually be seen by certain abnormalities on an EEG. These abnormalities are called epiliformic discharges. Where the discharges occur in the brain is usually indicative of what kind of seizure disorder the person has. Discharges in the temporal lobes are associated with Complex Partial seizures. Discharges in the occipital lobes are associated with hallucinatory seizures. These "partial seizures" are as indicated by their name. They only involve part of the brain.

Discharges all over the brain though, are associated with a generalized seizure disorder. The "size" (htz of electrical discharge produced) and length of the discharge can also be indicative of the type of seizure a person will have. Large long discharges are more likely associated with "Grand Mal" (of which there is a wide variety of "Grand Mal" seizures) and smaller shorter discharges are more likely associated with "Peti Mal" or "blank stare" seizures.

Seizure disorders come sort of "Al Cart". Any one patient could have multiple types of seizures and one type of seizure disorder can "morph" into another type of seizure disorder. A complex partial can travel from one part of the brain to another (that's called a secondary seizure); complex partials can become generalized seizures and generalized seizures can produce a wide variety of behavioral changes in a single individual. (Tonic - entire body becomes stiff, Clonic - shaking, Tonic Clonic - stiffness followed by shaking, Myoclonic - short small jerks, Drop - total loss of muscle control and consciousness; this type of seizure looks a lot like fainting spells.)

For all the "varieties" of "Grand Mal" (generalized seizures) there are; there are 10 times as many different types of partial seizures. The manifestations of partial seizures depends on where the seizure occurs in the brain. The behavior observed in a partial seizure could look similar to what we generally associate a seizure to look like; or they could look totally different. This is where the tricky part of diagnosis can come in. There are some seizures which have striking similarities to some sleep disorders. Is it a night terror or is it a seizure? Some times that's not easy to tell, since a lot of nocturnal seizures occur in stage II sleep; which is also where a lot of sleep disorders occur. In the case of my son. His "night terrors" totally disappeared when he went on seizure meds. This was one indicator to the doctors that these probably really were seizures and not night terrors. Sleep disorders don't go away with medication.

Epilepsy is a tricky disorder. It can be hard to treat and evasive to testing. Since the EEG is trying to read what's going on inside the brain from the outside of the skull; there is a certain margin of error to scalp monitored EEG's. Approximately 10% of the people with Epilepsy can actually have a seizure while attached to the EEG in which the EEG doesn't read it as a seizure. This is most common in patients who have discharges that are very deep in the brain and not strong enough for the EEG to read from the outside of the skull. When this is suspected, or there is some legion in the brain; sometimes doctors will do an intra-cranial EEG. In this procedure, they open up the skull and put electrodes right on and/or in the brain. This type of monitoring is usually about 5 days and requires a stay in the ICU.

"Boo's" Seizures

Now, so much for that little lesson on Epilepsy diagnosis: what about this kid?

My son's EEG showed discharges all over the brain. As his medication levels dropped; the abnormalities began to show on the EEG. As a few days passed, the discharges became more complex and longer. So thus, the doctors came to the conclusion that yes, my son has some sort of seizure disorder even though no obvious seizure was recognized at the point he'd left the hospital.

Now had he had a seizure the doctor's missed? That I won't know until his neurologist gets a chance to take a good look at his entire EEG. Nothing "BIG" happened; but he did have some occurrences that still needed to be looked at by the time we left. Since it was a holiday weekend and there was only one doctor and one tech; they didn't have time to throughly go through everyone's EEG. I'll know more in a couple of days if there was something on there they missed.

That being said though; Boo did have a Merry Christmas. At least as merry of a one as can be had in a hospital!

And of course - some of his favorite "loot"

And watch the animals!

Happy New Year!

May 2010 be a good one!

Letters From the Eye of the Depression

2009-12-09T08:28:00.000-08:00

Oh my gorsh - what a long time since I've posted.

Little update on what I've been doing. (I have not been idol.)
Been working on a long time project of mine.

Letters From the Eye of the Depression
A school teacher's journey to the arctic and back through the storm of the 1930's

(yup - been working on a book)

My grandmother taught school in Alaska during the 1930's. She wrote all these letters to friends of hers while she was up in Alaska. One of these friends (Peggy) kept all these letters stashed away in a closet for some 70 odd years; pretty much forgotten about - until she went into a nursing home and her family was cleaning out the house. Well they stumbled across these letters; which "mysteriously" showed up on my grandmother's front steps one day (in the hands of one of my uncles of course) to be visited upon by a world unbeknownst to their presence!

Well, to make a long story short - I've been working on transposing these letters onto the computer for quite some time now. There's some 7 or so years of letters here. In the midst of this of course - I've been doing a lot of research on the Alaska of the Great Depression! Been fascinating; as these projects always are to those of us who have an undying enchantment for what has thus passed into the books of history!

So here's some old pictures of Sanak Island (circa 1934)

this one is of one of my grandmother's students

her name was Annie.

I'm continuing to investigate her story;

she was murdered during WWII.

The killer was never found!

This was out the back door of the school.

The docks are where the mail and supplies came in;

about once a month!

This is a picture of her class. Not all the students were present though.

She taught in a one room schoolhouse - 1st to 8th grade.

The building was heated by one coal burning stove that sat in the classroom.

The kids spent the Christmas of 1934 by the only Christmas tree on that part of the island.

The tree was in the schoolhouse.

They had a party "at school" on Christmas day.

They opened their presents and got a chance to swing at a pinata for some candy.

Most importantly though; everyone had a warm place to gather;

since some of the families did not have adequate heating in their own homes.

This is a picture of my grandmother and one of the girls who lived on the other side of the island

Linette was her name and she was from Pauloff Harbor

Kids and Faith - (how they "get it")

2009-11-18T09:24:00.000-08:00

(Pre Script)
Just a little update before we get into “the post”!

I got the results back from my son’s sleep study. “Boo” does not have sleep apnea. Matter of fact; he does not appear to have any sleep disorder! This is good news; because even though we now know for sure his sleep disturbances are actually seizure related - it eliminates the complications a sleep disorder would bring to the picture.

Another branch in the hedge has been pruned - we know now we don’t need to go down this road! On to the next branch!

Kids and Religion:
Well since this post is about kids and faith; I will openly admit that since the kid I know the most about is my own - this will mostly be about his journey. Granted, this child sees his world through the lense of Autism. Even so; I think many pearls of wisdom can be gleaned from our experience on this journey.

Most people want to raise their children in their own traditions - religious traditions or not. As for traditions; yeah, we celebrate all the “traditional (mass majority of) American(‘s) holidays”. We just try and keep it simple and leave it to the interpretation of what ever the individual wants to make out of it. At the heart of it though; traditions are not what’s important to me. My goal is not to raise my son in any religion. My goal is that he see there is a Father in heaven he can depend on. A God that he can have a relationship with; not just a bunch of rules to follow.

Discipline and Empowerment:
(Knowledge is Power)
Just like most of us when we were kids; “Boo’s” journey on this road started with “discipline”. Now granted that has a whole lot of connotations for a whole lot of different people. Me, being the insecure parent who had no idea what to do; read all the books on “discipline”. The vast majority of which - when whittled down to their base message - consisted of: “Be consistently punitive” (and give the kid a warning before you “correct” them”).

Well, I was consistently punitive; always giving “Boo” his warning. He never seemed to understand the warning though and just went about and did things anyways. Come to realize much later that even in neurologically typical children; that “behavior” has certain developmental components to it.

A child’s brain develops by input; so as soon as they figure out how to mobilize from one place to another - their out looking for input! Of course because the neurons in their brains are just beginning to pattern memory; the fact that they were told “no” two minutes ago doesn’t usually “stick” - even if they’ve demonstrated in a past situation that they know what the word “no” means. Very young children lack the ability to transfer a skill learned in one situation to other situations. As more neurons make their connections; children learn to master the transference of that skill. For Autistic kids though; the transference of skills remains problematic through out life. This is why Autistic children commonly have to be taught everything. They don’t just “pick it up”. Even in the neurologically typical child; attainment of language and attention remains a fluid process until good connections are laid down. So in a very real way the child may not actually know what “no” means at every opportunity it’s presented. (Parents of creepers and twaddlers - keep that in mind.)

As for my son, my goal was compliance; but what I “got back” was not an obedient child. It was an angry, sullen and fearful child. A child prone to episodes of self injurious behavior. (He used to slap his face with his hands and pound on his thighs with his fists.) A kid who’d frequently “melt down” and occasionally come out swinging. What ever lesson I thought I was trying to teaching him; he wasn’t “getting it”. He was almost 3 years old and I had a sinking feeling in my subconscious that I’d screwed something up. It wasn’t suppose to be like this!

Usually “church folk” weren’t much help; since most of them were doing the same things I was and their only advice was to do more of it and do it more consistently. (What ever that meant.) Here is where I think “Boo’s” neurological differences are a God send; they made momma wake up a little quicker to the fact that if I didn’t change paths real quick - I would create the child that I had been. Or yet worse; I’d create a juvenile delinquent.

Parents and the Child’s Perception of God:
I knew that it’s commonly said that most people’s perception of God originates with what kind of parents they had. Especially the concept of God the Father. The type of Father God is perceived as, usually gets tainted by our own negative human experiences with our earthly dads. The degree of pollution any individual’s concept of God may be sullied with, can very greatly. Usually the more punitive the religious family is; the more of a “bad rap” God gets. The problem; (as well as the fact of reality) is that parents are sinners and adults often screw things up. Years don’t always make us wiser and our kids can see that quite clearly. Parenting takes a great deal of humility!

So these were the things that were spinning around in the back of my head. As “Boo” got older and his disability became more pronounced. I knew any concept of God he’d ever come to understand was not going to come out of theological study; since he struggles greatly with processing language. No, anything he was going to learn; was going to come out of experience. This revelation of course, brought me to the question of: What was I going to teach him about God through my own character and actions? The need for a change of approach became obvious. My goal than became to care for “Boo” to the best of my ability; in the same manner as God cares for me. This meant I’d have to really hone the skill of being compassionate and understanding. I’d have to be gentle. I’d have to be thoughtful, creative, and unconventional. I’d have to “think outside the box” so to speak and I’d have to lead by example.

I knew at that point that corporal punishment was not effective with this child; nor was it turning out to be a very wise choice for myself. I was frustrated and angry and occasionally leaving bruises on “Boo” with my “no no sticks”. Finally I took all the wooden spoons off the stove and stuck them in a Good Will bag to go out with the next bundle of stuff. It wasn’t too much longer though when things at home would get to a breaking point and I’d leave with “Boo”.

My husband’s tolerance for dealing with his own frustration wasn’t any better than mine. He figured that once the kid was tired of having a sore bottom; he’d “get it”. That never happened though and I realized that if I didn’t do something; “Boo” was going to get hurt. So, one Sunday evening; after an intense day of arguing over (of all things) “Boo’s” blanket - my husband stormed out of the house; I called a domestic violence hotline and we went to a shelter.

We were in the shelter for about a month and after being permitted one evening’s deliberations with my husband; I decided we’d go back home. I had two conditions though that had to be met. He had to agree to counseling and verbally and physically unloading his frustration on “Boo” would not be permitted. I was pretty firm and distinct on my point that if he lost control of himself and started hitting “Boo”; I would call 911 and he would go to jail. He agreed to this and we went back home. Fortunately (most so for him) he was able to uphold his end of bargain.

In the midst of all the chaos of Social Services and Child Protective; I decided it was time for me to bravely face my own demons. When the investigator came to the door; I sat down with him in our kitchen and to this day still recall “Boo’s” reaction. The man introduced himself and began to explain why he was there. “Boo” was in the kitchen and could comprehend enough of what was said to come running up to me; crawling up into my lap and putting his hand over my mouth. “Mommy no talk.” he said. I calmed him down and explained to him that if things were ever going to get better; we had to talk. We can’t fix this if we don’t talk about it.

It was at that point I realized how very scared this child was. I had seen his fear at times when we were in the shelter. One day I’d taken him to the mall and called a friend of mine on my cell phone to arrange to meet with her. “Boo” was sitting in his push-chair with one of his blankets while I was talking on the phone. He had his head down with his blanket curled up close to him and at first I thought he was asleep. When I took a closer look though; he was staring at the carpet. I asked him if he was OK and he started to cry. I explained to him as best as I could gather that he’d understand; none of this was his fault and that mommy and daddy had some things they really needed to fix.

I had been told by a few “friends” of mine; that the only reason “Boo” was afraid is because I’d created all this instability in his life. I had taken him out of his home and away from his dad, into this place where all these “other people” did not have our best interests in mind. I’d almost believed that until we’d gotten back in the car after our mall outing to head back to the shelter. “Boo” asked if we were going home and I’d just first assumed he was talking about the home we’d left. When I tried to explain to him why; he interrupted me and said “No, the other home!” At that point I’d realized - “Boo” was talking about the shelter.

“And I will praise You in this storm
and I will lift my hands,
‘cause You are who You are; no matter where I am.
And every tear I’ve cried, You hold in Your hands;
You never left my side, although my heart is torn;
I will praise You in this storm.”

We’d only had a few CD’s in the car when we left that fateful Saturday afternoon. One of them was a Casting Crowns CD; of which I’d actually won on the radio about a month prior. The album was “Life Song”. “Boo” liked Casting Crowns and I’d called in to win the CD on account of that fact that he liked that one particular song. (Praise You in the Storm) Little did I realize that at the time I’d won the CD - that it wouldn’t be long before we would really need it. Strange as this sounds; I think God used the experience and the CD as a turning point in “Boo’s” life. Those times of course were a turning point in all of our lives. For “Boo” though; I think they were of great spiritual significance. He learned that God was available to lean on in times of trouble; even when the rest of the world forsakes you. God will take you up in His arms. We prayed a lot, we cried a lot and we sang a lot.

About a year would pass and “Boo” (and I) would get another “lesson”.

Faith in Action -
Repentance and Restoration:
The apartment we’d been living in was in need of repairs; so, we had to move. In the midst of packing up “Boo’s” room I found one more “no no stick”. (Later I’d find one other one in my room. That one got stuck in a box with a bunch of books of mine.) I thought and prayed for a long time about what to do with this “no no stick”. I could just throw it out and forget about it; but for some reason that didn’t seem to “cut it”. I thought it important that “Boo” know that I acknowledged that hitting him with them was wrong. I needed to apologize to him and I thought it important that I did not hide my sin against him from him!

I wasn’t sure what to do and Easter was coming up. I wanted to explain Easter to “Boo” and that death and resurrection was as much about changing people’s lives in the here and now; as it was about a future new heaven and new earth. After all; Jesus came to free us from our sin and give us victory in this present life.

So on Good Friday; I stuck this “no no stick” in my purse and took “Boo” up to a monastery that was in our area. Why I choose that particular spot - I wasn’t sure; other than it had a beautiful view out the front window. At first “Boo” was afraid to go into this place. We’d stopped going to church for at least the previous year; do to a string of bad experiences. Of which these bad experiences usually involved admonitions to me about “disciplining” “Boo.” It had gotten so bad that “Boo” was having anxiety attacks when we pulled into the parking lot of one particular church. After about the third time that had happened. I stopped, took one look at him, put my seat belt back on, turned the car around and left. Needless to say; we never went back to that church.

After I’d managed to coax “Boo” into the monastery (it was pretty cold outside) we sat in the front vestibule looking out the window at the rolling hills. We were only there a few minutes as he nervously squirmed around. Finally I began to explain to him why we were there. I told him I needed to talk to him about something very important; than I pulled the wooden spoon out of my purse. “Boo” suddenly got real quiet. When I asked him if he remembered what this was; he whispered “It’s a no no stick.”

At that point I started to cry as I was trying to explain to him that I wanted him to understand what Good Friday and Easter Sunday were all about. I told him that Jesus died on Good Friday and he died to save people and change who they are. I told him the big fancy word for change is called repentance; yet at that point I was beginning to loose him again. I asked him to come and sit down next to me; although he was too nervous and antsy to do so.

Finally I went over and took his hand and brought him back to the window and had him sit down. I told him that I knew he was scared; but I wanted him to hear me out. I confessed to him that I knew I used to hit him with these “sticks”; but I know now that was the wrong thing to do and I wanted him to know that I knew that. I told him he’d never see another “no no stick” again. I’d never hit him again after that; with a stick, my hand or anything else. After that I pulled out a marker and I started writing on the spoon.

“Do not render evil for evil;
but over come evil with good”

“For what soever you’ve done
unto the least of these;
you’ve done it unto Me.”

After this I asked “Boo” what he thought we should do with this “no no stick”. He said he thought we should hide it under a bush. I told him I thought maybe it would be better if we burned it in a fire. He didn’t seem to like that idea and asked me if he could get up. I let him get up and he walked around the vestibule and than into the back room where this monastery sold bread and jams. I could hear “Boo” talking to someone in the bread room; so I stuck the stick back in my purse and decided to try and figure out what to do with it later.

When I went in the back by the bread; I found that the person “Boo” was talking to was one of the monks. He’d just come out of their afternoon vespers and still had his monk robe on. “Boo” was asking him where the cash register was when I came in. I explained to the man that Boo really likes coins; he has Autism. The monk nodded politely in acknowledgment that my explanation answered his question as to “Boo’s” odd fascination with money.

After that (much to my surprise) the monk asked us what we were doing for Easter. I confessed to not really knowing; since we hadn’t really made any plans. He than asked if we were coming to Mass on Easter Sunday; in which I told him we weren’t even Catholic. We’d come up partly so “Boo” could see where the bread was made. Than I finally got up the courage to tell the monk why we were really there.

I pulled out the “no no stick” and explained to the monk that I used to hit “Boo” with it. I set it on the table and explained to the monk that I wanted “Boo” to understand that Easter was about God changing people; his mommy included. I wanted “Boo” to understand that he didn’t have to be afraid of God. God wanted to help us. And God wants to change us to help us be better people than we are.

By this point “Boo” had grabbed the “no no stick” and was looking for a place to hide it; when the monk picked up a loaf of bread and went over to “Boo”. He asked “Boo” if he could have the stick in exchange for the loaf of bread. “Boo” asked him what he was going to do with the stick. The monk told him they were going to burn it in the fire where they make the bread. It would help bake a loaf of bread. “Boo” smiled and gave the monk the spoon in exchange for a loaf of cinnamon swirl bread. The monk also gave “Boo” a jar of quince jelly. I started crying again and the monk patted me on the shoulder. He wished us Godspeed and a happy Easter and we headed back to the car.

After we left the monastery; “Boo” was no longer afraid to set foot in any church. Still now; every Easter time we go up to the monastery and get some bread and jelly. “Boo” still gets a big smile on his face every time I bring him home a loaf of monk bread.

As for my promise to not hit him any longer; I haven’t kept it perfectly. I think it’s been about 3 times in the past two years I’ve lost my temper and wacked him on the behind. So, I apologize and renew my promise to be a better parent. And “Boo” he does earnestly try harder to follow directions better. So, but for the grace of God we walk this road together.

Where is "Boo" today with God? Well, based on his circumstances in life; his extent of faith appears to be:
Pray Jesus raise me from the dead when I'm scared of my seizures.
Tell God how frusterated I am when I don't get what I want.
Pray when people don't treat me right.
Act the way I think God would want me to act and ask Him how He'd want me to act if I'm not sure.

So, thus is passing on faith to kid's in a "nutshell".
Don't just talk the talk
Walk the Walk!

Further resources:
Want a good book on all those questionable verses in the Hebrew Scripture?

Thy Rod and Thy Staff
by Samuel Martin

(excerpt from preface of book)
I still have about 700 hard copy versions of the book and I am sending them to
people who do not have Internet access or for libraries or for non-profit
organizations. Any one who would like a copy, please write me at:

In the USA or Canada
Samuel Martin
C/O Kathryn Ralli
P O Box 30755
Las Vegas NV 89173 0755

All other countries:
Samuel Martin
P O Box 21543
New Bet Hanina
Jerusalem 91214 Israel

HAS THIS BOOK HELPED YOU? - HOW YOU CAN HELP OTHERS
If you have found this book to be helpful, I would ask you to consider making a tax
deductible donation in the USA (I do have partners in other countries who might be
able to accept a donation for me – please write me for more information) to a project
that I am directing titled: “The New Foundation for Biblical Research.” Any amount
you wish would be welcomed and appreciated. You can send a donation in the form
of a check or money order to either of the above addresses and I will process your
donation to ensure that you receive a tax-deductible receipt. This new project is
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research like this produced, please consider joining me in this new project. For more
information on our strategic plan, goals, and budget for 2008 and 2009, please write
me.

By email: peacelvng1@aol.com or info@biblechild.com

You can also still order this book, please go to www.amazon.com and type in the title
of the book. For more information, please see my website, http://www.biblechild.com/.

Sexual Abuse Survivors - Protecting Our Kids!

2009-11-10T22:23:00.000-08:00

I started this post several weeks ago, but got back logged with hunting up statistics. Anyone who reads my blogs - I guess realizes that I’m a big fan of numbers - LOL.

Any way; being no laughing matter - this is a subject I’ve researched rather extensively and is always somewhere in the back of my mind. I started my probe back when my son was a baby. The main reason of course having to do with certain relatives of mine. I knew I had to separate myself from certain family members for the safety of my own son and the sake of my sanity. What followed in my investigation left me feeling like I’d narrowly escaped what would have been a certain hell for my child had I stayed. Right down to the personality traits and life experiences; the profile of a predator fit my brother with an eerie accuracy. It was at that point, I’d known for sure I made the right choice!

Statistics:
Statistical information is a sophisticated double edged sword. It can be empowering, yet also condemning because the sheer bulk of percentiles is not very promising. Here’s a run down of the numbers.

Last census calculated roughly 300 million people in the United States.

1 in every 4 girls and 1 in every 6 boys are sexually abused before they reach 18 years old.
The “official statistic” is some 37 million sexual abuse survivors in the US today.

Just looking at the sheer numbers though; approximating that the male to female ratio in the US to be 50 / 50 (I know there really are more women than men - the statistical difference is not so large to be of a major concern in the “numbers crunching” game though.)

That would be 37 million female survivors alone; and 25 million male survivors.

70% of all sex offenses are committed against someone under 18 years of age.

Forms of Sexual abuse: breaking down the statistics.
About 40% of sexual abuse survivors are abused by family members
About 50% are abused by someone they know; usually friends of the family.
Only 10% account for “stranger” attacks.

Sibling sexual abuse and uncle to niece rank the highest in family abuse statistics. They are about equal in prevalence; yet no real percentiles are known.

Step father to step daughter is the next most prevalent.

Next is biological father daughter; followed by biological grandfather grand daughter.

Step father stepson; biological father son; uncle nephew.

Finally is mother child. This form of sexual abuse does not have a whole lot of statistical data on it; so the percentage of prevalence is not really known. Instances of mother child sexual abuse seem to be divided equally among male and female children. Of all the cases known; the mother has some documented mental illness and this form of sexual abuse was usually associated with punishment for perceived sexual misconduct upon the part of the child.

Outcomes:
Of those “official statistic” of 37 million survivors; only about 20% of adults report being victims as children (27% women, 16% men).

Of those who report abuse, only 10% go into counseling.

Of 10% who go into counseling; I believe it’s less than 5% who stay long enough for the counseling to have a long term positive impact on their life.

Of the less than 5% who stay in counseling; less than 1% break ties with the abusive family.

Sex offenders:
40% of adult male sex offenders claim to have been sexually abused as children. (50% of female prison inmates report being sexually abused as children. Of registered sex offenders though, only 1% are female. So the vast majority of female prison inmates are incarcerated for crimes other than sex offenses.)

The accuracy of this reported 40% statistic is questionable though. In the early 80's, a study was done on children who were documented by the child protective system as having been victims of sexual abuse. This study was done in 5 different states constituting over 5000 children. Authorities kept a record of these children regardless of whether or not they’d received counseling and waited to see if any of them would show up later in life on sex offender registries. To date; not a single one has! Looking at the profile of a pedophile though; (which I will be covering in a few paragraphs later) this is not surprising.

Survivor’s Children:
When I researched this topic; I could not find any statistics on the prevalence of the victimization of children of adult survivors. I’m sure the statistics are out there somewhere. Sometimes it’s just a matter of Googling the right word to find what your looking for. Unfortunately though; I was unsuccessful at tracking down this particular statistic. If I were to make an educated guess though; I’d say the prevalence of victimization of survivor’s children is probably higher than that of the general population. The reason I say this is that survivors usually have 2 factors working against them.

1. The low percentage of survivors in any sort of recovery / counseling.
2. The profile of victim a sex offender is seeking.

There’s certainly no doubting that the statistical cards are stacked against the survivor of sexual abuse. Since most survivors are not in any sort of counseling or recovery program; they lack the knowledge to know how to avoid the pitfalls that lay in their path. Substance abuse, eating disorders, depression and PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) have their highest prevalence in the sexual abuse population. The statistics run any where from 50% to 75% or 80%; depending on what outward behavioral characteristics are being looked at.

Survivors who are not in recovery, are also at higher risk of not forming secure attachments to their own children; on account of lack of a model in their own lives. This is especially true of family sexual abuse. The dynamics of a family with that level of dysfunction; makes that skill impossible to attain within that family system. This in and of it’s-self makes a survivor’s children more of a target for a pedophile; on account of the fact that the pedophile is looking for a “detached child” to begin with. The goal of the pedophile is not to get caught and the child who has a secure attachment to his/her parents does not make a very good target. Securely attached children don’t easily fall victim to the wooing of a predator because their emotional needs are being met.

Another very common pitfall for a survivor who is not in recovery is good ‘ol denial! Denial it’s-self is (in certain sense) part of the recovery process. It’s not a coping mechanism that we can afford to hold onto though. And here’s why!

With the exception of an outright stranger attack; (which are rather rare in comparison to other predator profiles) sexual offenses don’t just “jump out” upon a child. 90% of the time there is a process that occurs before the abuse commences. Along that “time frame” (which can very) many red flags go up along the way. The amount of parental denial will have a direct impact on the child’s risk factor for victimization. Poor personal boundaries upon the part of the parent will invariably create poor personal boundaries upon the part of the child. The only point where this may very; (parent has good personal boundaries, but child does not) is amongst the developmentally disabled population. (Developmental disability is a risk factor in and of it’s-self.)

The other specter that runs hand in hand with denial is lack of knowledge. Many of us have the desire to protect our child from what we ourselves endured; yet we lack the knowledge of what to look for. Fortunately though, this is a skill that can be learned! Here’s what commonly happens though.

Because of lack of knowledge of what constitutes healthy boundaries; many survivors miss the fact that the “nice guy factor” in and of it’s-self should elicit caution. Drawing on the experience of being a needy child and inadvertently recreating that in our own children; many survivors don’t realize that the man who so eagerly plays to “meeting the child’s need” - is really looking to meet their own “need” instead. Now granted there are many adults who’s motivation is not abuse. The distinguishing factor between those people and the sexual predator is that the true helper’s primary interest is in adult relationships; both romantic and friendships.

Another contributing factor that can stand in the way of a survivor adequately protecting their children is their own belief system. Now “belief systems” aren’t just religious or philosophical; although religion and philosophy entail part of all of our whole belief systems. Beliefs that most commonly get in the way are misconceptions about child development. Here is another example of where knowledge is power. A parent who makes it their business to be well versed in child psycho/social development is going to know what the “right amount” of knowledge / curiosity is for a child at any given stage of development. This is very helpful in recognizing the first signs of something “not being right” should they occur. Subtle changes in a child’s behavior can give us a real “heads up” before serious disaster strikes.

Another commonality for survivors is that our thinking can become distorted. Many of us fall victim to overly controlling systems and people who don’t encourage independent thought. We can easily become ensnared into groups who give us ritual and rules to follow wherein to “find approval”. This of course is very dangerous and certainly counterproductive to our own development of our sense of self. We are never going to know who we really are and what we’re really made of if we don’t step outside of the boxes that other’s would wish to shove us into. Sometimes it’s a real challenge; but finding our own voice is well worth the fight!

And!

Last but not least; the single most biggest factor is:
If you know someone has a history of victimizing children;

KEEP YOUR KIDS AWAY FROM THEM!!!

If “dad” did it to you; he’s probably gonna do it to your kids. Here is where a network of support becomes extremely important. Abusive families are immensely manipulative, self serving and in a lot of ways, very underhanded. Because predators bear a narcissistic sense of entitlement, lack empathy and are compulsive liars; they pose a huge threat to safety and mental wellbeing of us and our children. It can be very hard to get untangled from the dysfunctional system; but your literal existence depends on it. More survivors take their own lives than any other sub-category of the suicide statistic. We owe it to ourselves and our children to do better than our parents did!

We are the Borg! Resistance is futile!

2009-11-02T07:55:00.000-08:00

(Please go to sleep)

Star Trek jokes run thick around here!

Any one who's ever done a "sleep study" "gets" this picture. (And yeah yeah; I certainly know that at a "sleep study" you don't usually get a whole lot of "sleep".)

We just recently did one of these in hopes of determining whether or not sleep apnea is an issue for "Boo". The main reason for this study is because there is a contra-indication on one of his meds that if you have sleep apnea; don't take this drug - (it could cause you to stop breathing - and not breathing is not good for anyone - Borg included!).

Now Boo doesn't snore; which is usually what people think about when someone has sleep apnea. Snoring is most commonly associated with "obstructive sleep apnea" - where the soft tissue in the nasal passages blocks the airway. There is another type of sleep apnea that isn't hardly as common. It's called "central (or central nervous system) sleep apnea" - this is where the brain fails to send a message to the lungs to breath. Only about 10% of people with sleep apnea have "CNSSA"; and of those who have it, more than half of them also have Epilepsy. What happens is; once the CO2 level starts to rise - the "panic button" in a different part of the brain will go off and send a message to the body to breath. This is usually accompanied by a "myoclonic jerk" and often times in Epilepsy patients, will be accompanied by a seizue. Sometimes though it's hard to tell which came first; the apnea or the seizure.

Myoclonic jerks will sometimes happen in people who have no neurological issues. It's most prone to occur when you are very tired and just getting ready to fall asleep; than all the sudden you jump. Most of us have probably experienced this - it's very annoying when it happens - but it's actually there to protect us. It's a fail safe mechanism in the body. When the brain is not getting an adequate message from any part of the body it will "shock" us back into consciousness because it thinks either we or the limb are/is dying. If we are laying on our arm or something and cut off our own circulation (because we are so tired that we don't realize we are laying on our arm); of course our bodies can't let us stay that way. So it will send a shot of adrenalin to "wake" us up. Constant or consistent myoclonic jerking is usually indicative of either a tumor in the brain, or a seizure disorder.

Needless to say; "the baby Borg" finally did fall asleep in his little "El-cove". (Took a while but they did get some data on him.) We left the center at about 5 AM. (Uhhh) and hit Denny's for a (very early) breakfast! Needless to say; the rest of the afternoon we both spent catching up on our sleep!

It worked out well in the end though; on account of the fact that we got in for the actual sleep test the day we'd seen the doctor. I over heard the secretary that they had a cancellation that night so I asked if we could have the slot! No Problem! Worked out great - for by the time we get to the neurologist this month - the sleep study test results will be in! (Big Help!)

One more step in this process!

How do I think the results will come out? Not sure. "Boo" didn't have an "eventful" night. That in and of it's-self may tell us a lot though; since I think sleep apnea is a condition someone has all the time. The fact that he didn't appear to me to have any apnea episodes; could indicate that the myoclonic jerking he frequently exhibits in his sleep is seizure related.

We'll see? Another piece in the puzzle potentially solved?

(P.S. - the continuation of the "faith" posts - defining "truth" is / will be posted on my other blog.)
Footprints From the Grave.
http://footprintsfromthegrave-biblestudypage.blogspot.com/

Faith? (Take Two)

2009-10-23T08:02:00.000-07:00

OK Peeps - I was gonna post on “Truth”; which I still will do only I may post it on my other blog because it’s gettin kinda “academic”. Maybe I will post it on this one - I don’t know - haven't decided.

Any how I will continue the rest of this post and than post on “truth”.

Sound good?
OK!
LOL

Faith as Applied in terms to God:
Back to our original questions of what is faith and where does it come from?

Well, we've defined our words "faith" and "belief" as trust. In this context - trust in God. Do we "trust in" God; or more importantly - Do we trust God? Notice the question isn't: Do we give intellectual ascent to idea A, B, or C? Nor is it: Do we perform task X, Y, and Z? The question is: Do we trust God?

Hum? Good question - What does trust in God look like?

Trust in God has a tendency to manifest it's-self in certain ways. The first obstical we come up against is ourselves. What do we think about our own understanding of God? Do we think we "know" Him? Do we think we've got Him "figured out"? What about our understanding of how God sees us? Do we think God looks at our thoughts and actions and finds them acceptable? What about our motivations? Are we motivated to act out of appriciation of what God has given us - or are we some how trying to earn His favor? Have we been told that if we subscribe to idea A, B, & C and perform task X, Y, & Z; we can (or might) earn His favor? Do we even think we can earn His favor?

All these are very important questions; for if we don't "answer" them "correctly" - we'll never know what it means to "trust in God" because we'll be too busy trusting in ourselves.

So what is trusting in God? Trusting in God doesn't start with knowing that we don't have all the answers - it starts with knowing that we don't have any of the answers. Trust doesn't start with "knowing God"; it starts with knowing that we are totally clueless about God. Trust starts with knowing we haven't figured anything out - none the less figured God out. Trust doesn't start with questioning whether or not God finds our thoughts and actions acceptable; it starts with us finding our own thoughts and actions dispicable! What about our motivations? Are we trying to "get right"; or do we realize - "Oh ---- I'm doomed!" Do we plead with God saying: - "Oh but I thought A, B, & C and did X, Y, & Z" - or do we look at A, B, & C and X, Y, & Z and say: "Excuse me Lord - I think I'm gonna go get sick."

Presenting our "offering" to the Lord starts with the realization that we aint got nothing to offer!

(Nothing worth His while at least. And yes - this includes our own soul! There aint nothing about our nasty, yucky, sin stained selves that's worthy of God's attention; but out of His love He chooses to pity some of us.)

Thank Him for that!

The next "step" in this road of trust is a certain realization about God Himself. He is perfect, we are not, and He aint happy with any of us! Growth in faith isn't just some intellectual ascent to the fact that hell is real. It's a personal conviction that I deserve to go there! "Fear of the Lord" isn't some vague angst that God may not be happy with me (so maybe I better do more X, Y, Z) - but an intimate understanding that He's beyond "not happy" and I'm in big trouble!

And man, I can tell you that to anyone who ever gets to this point - the idea of a Redeemer looks real good!

Here is the point where nothing but Jesus is even appealing! There aint no-one else on earth who's ever even offered to pay for anyone elses sin; none to say be able to actually do it!

The Origin of Faith:
Now that we've taken a little looksie here at how faith starts to unfold in a person's life - where does it come from? How does anyone get from being totally dedicated to a religion (or totally dedicated to no religion) to being totally spiritually destitute? The answer to this question we've actually already covered. Faith is born out of trust in the truth. All that has to happen is people need to see the truth and the only One who can open their eyes is God Himself!

So, what happens from here?

Well, God has already started working on someone, whom He'd decided back before creation it's-self was founded that He wanted to show His mercy too. (How He decides that - don't ask me - I have no idea! All I know is that it isn't because of anything we've done!) Any how; God kept track of time and made sure that person didn't die before He had wrought His mighty work of salvation in them. When the right time in their life came; He sent the Holy Spirit after them. The Spirit pursued them and started showing them glimpses of God's holiness while poking holes in their wall of denial. It didn't take much till it all came tumblin down like the walls of Jericho. That's the thing about God; He's persistant and He never tires! When He sets His intension on someone for the sake of redemption - inevitably - they will surrender. Who is able to resist the will of an infiniate, all powereful God? For if you could - you'd be God - not Him!

At the point the person surrenders, they finally understand why God was "chasin them down" to begin with. They see that He intends to redeem them and at that point they come running to Him instead of away from Him. Somewhere in this process they become "born again". They don't "choose" Jesus. They don't "accept" him. (That language is no where in the Scripture.) Man is never asked to do anything in regards to Christ. We are simply commanded to believe. And so thus, he who is born of the Spirit does so.

Being born of the Spirit of God makes that individual inseperable from God. The Holy Spirit is as much a part of that individual's life as his own flesh. They are inseperably united. What is the result of this? The person "copies" God to as great of an extent as is possible for them. There is a whole lot of "factors" that can affect the sanctification process. Cognition, disability, illness, life circumstances, consequences of past sin, geographic or political factors can play into this. There's a whole slew of things that can have a role in how God directs people's lives.

Finally, what does this look like in "real life"? Well there's some comon characteristics of a "child of God".

1. Morality
This person will not be continously living a life of sin. They will increasingly grow to "think right" as to what God considers to be holy and acceptable behavior; and their life will reflect that morally more and more as time goes on.

Inherent in this process is repentance. Repentance isn't just being sorry for what one has done amiss; repentance means to turn from sin. The fact that the Spirit of God lives within someone who truly believes in Jesus; (He has actually caused them to believe in the first place.) is the anticeedant that causes repentance. Not only does He work in them to "will of God's good pleasure"; He works in them to "do" it also.

Because God is holy, He won't "stick around" in the squalar of sin. So, when the Spirit takes up residency in someone's life - He usually has a lot of "house cleaning" to do. Granted the Holy Spirit does not indwell everyone. He only indwells those God has decreed would be recipiants of the redemptive work of Christ. So thus if someone professes any belief / trust in Jesus and there is no change in their morality and direction in life; their faith is dead and they are worshiping an idol. (This also goes for anyone on the planet regardless of what religion they profess. If a life does not bear a progressive resemblence to the holiness of God - it doesn't belong to Him.)

Now don't get me wrong; I'm not saying people who've had some sort of moral reformation, have attained salvation; at least in the sense of favor with God. Here is where the question of motive comes in; for often times a moral reformation (i.e. people "getting religion") is simply an attempt to gain God's favor. There are a lot of moral people out there who will end up in hell. On the other hand though; salvation actually creates morality where it once may have been absent.

"Moral people" on the other hand become moral for the right reason. "Doing the right thing" should be something born out of love for God; not out of trying to earn "brownie points" in (or for) heaven. People who have enough will power to keep their sin "between their ears" - so to speak - often are extremely self-righteous and full of pride. Thus ironically, they break the commandments they claim so vehemently that they are keeping; because they have no love.

2. An insatiable desire to know God more (and better)
They'll want to truely know and understand for themselves what's in the Bible. For this sake they'll ask a lot of questions. God is not offended by inquiry. Matter of fact; He encourages each believer to search the Scriptures for themselves to know whether or not these things be true.

3. Earnest desire to know what direction God would want them to take with their lives.
Things such as occupation, where to live, whether to marry or not, who to marry, if there are issues with fertility - do they adopt? How to raise the kids they've got. ect.

4. Love
A growing love for God, the ways of God, fellow believers and people in general. Love at it’s base is not “a feeling” - it’s a choice. Feelings can accompany love, “should” accompany love and often do; but the essence of love is not a feeling.

What Faith and Love are Not:
“Love” does not mean that we become a doormat for everyone, every thing or every idea. There is an innate sense in (almost) everyone that tells us the difference between right and wrong. It’s called a conscience. (Pretty elementary; yeah I know.) Here is where a lot of abuse survivors have difficulty understanding what real love is and what real forgiveness is. Love and forgiveness are not excusing and enabling unacceptable and immoral behavior. That’s called co-dependency! Real love has boundaries - as it should.

Also, love (and faith / trust and truth for that matter) does not mean that we leave our brains a the door. If something “don’t sound right”, “don’t seem right” or “don’t feel right”; we by all means have the right to question it. Truth is something that’s reveled to us as we search for it. Our beliefs in God should never be a bunch of edicts and ideas handed down to us that we never question. Matter of fact; God expects us to search out the truth.

“It is to the glory of God to conceal a matter and the honor of kings to search it out.”

I know a lot of people in “religious systems”. They have an innate sense in themselves that something is wrong. Maybe they can’t quite identify it; maybe they can. It causes conflict in their soul though and they try to bury that.... terror (essentially is what it is); beneath the religiosity of the system they are in. The individuals who fall into this category, who I am the most familiar with; are rather close adherents to either Mormonism, Islam or Jehovah’s Witnesses. They aren’t the only ones though. A friend of mine has an Orthodox Jewish woman who is a friend of hers; who I’d say falls into this category too. I don’t know her though; most of the Jewish people around me are rather “secular”. Of course there are Roman Catholics and “Christian fundamentalists” who I think “fit this bill” too.

Ironically, of the women I know who are fighting with their conscience as opposed to their religious system; a great deal of them are adult survivors of some form of child abuse. One women I’d had conversations with; was a Muslim, who like myself is a sexual abuse survivor. She periodically admitted to still dealing with anger over what had happened to her. Which is understandable. My experience has been that the road of anger is one traveled many times in the journey of recovery. What is a real tragedy though; is that she claims (at least to what she is willing to admit to the outside world) there is a “difference” between Mohammad consummating a marriage with a 9 year old and her experiences.

What?

Now would it have really made a difference in her feelings if her parents had given her to this man in marriage at 6, 8, 10 years old - or how ever old she was when this happened? I doubt it. Would she have been any less angry? I doubt that too. Would she have felt any less violated? Probably not.

Her conscience (the just anger she feels) is actually a testimony of God (the laws of God are written on the consciences of men) to her against theses teachings of her religion. She is angry at this molester; because God is angry too. God does not pick and choose based on whether or not the person has a marriage certificate; who He will hold accountable for sexual assault. God doesn’t see a man raping his wife as any less sinful than a stranger rape. Individuals (both men and women) can be and are abused within the context of a marriage. This of course goes for our children too. God has entrusted our children to us to care for; they are not our property to do with as we please! He didn’t give them too us for us to beat on, belittle or mistreat in any way.

Conclusion:
So thus is my conclusion of my post on “faith”. In these two posts I touched on faith being trust in the truth. The next series of topics will be “What is truth”. I still haven’t decided if I will post those on this blog or in the Bible Study blog? Either way - they will be available to be read - at "some bat place" and at "some bat time".

Faith?

2009-10-21T07:59:00.000-07:00

Ever seen those garden or pocket stones that say:

"Have Faith.", or "Just Believe"?

Have you ever wondered what that really meant? Faith in what? Believe what? What do those terms really mean any ways? Is "faith" nothing more than wishful thinking? What does "faith" look like? What does it do? What is faith? Is it believing in something you can't see? Is it just the intellectual ascent to the idea of something being true (proven or not)? Can faith be "mustered up"? Can it somehow be "attained"; grabbed onto like you would pick up an object, a dinner plate for example? Is it a series of actions or ideas that produce some sort of outcome? Is faith even "tangible" for that matter?

Next question - where does faith come from? Is it something inherent in us? Do we "find faith" in ourselves somewhere / somehow? Do we "get faith" simply by reciting a bunch of words? Do we get it by following a bunch of rules? Where do we find it, if it's even a "thing" to be found? How do we know when we've found it? Or - is it one of those elusive "things" that's about as easy to attain to as grasping oxygen molecules with our hands? When we "get it", how do we know we've "got it"?

If we look in the dictionary; we find that "faith" entails trust; a confidence in something (or someone).

So, if faith entails trust - what is trust?

Again, the dictionary uses the phrase "confidence in something"; (or reliance upon). So, what does it mean to have confidence in something, or reliance upon it? Why would we do that? What are we expecting it to do (or not do) for us, (or to us)?

Wrapped up in the question of what is faith / belief and how does that have to do with trust; is actually a question of "right" and "wrong". Is something "true" or is it "not true"? None of us want to be caught trusting in something that's not true. We loose faith in a person if they've lied to us. We no longer trust them if they've done something to wrong us. This is the same with systems and families, religions and institutions. If we find that what they are telling us is actually a lie; we no longer have faith in them. We no longer trust them.

Now, since we've "figured out" that trust and faith go hand in hand and they walk upon a foundation of truth; we've answered some of our questions about faith.

Question / Answer:
What do we have "faith" or "belief" in? - Truth.
What do the words "faith" and "belief" mean anyways? - Trust.
Do we trust in wishful thinking? - No.
Do we trust in something we think is true? - Yes, usually.
Do we trust in something we think is a lie? - No, not usually.
Can we "pick up" trust - like a dinner plate? - No.
Does performing a series of actions produce trust? - Good question - we'll get back to this one.
Does following a certain set of ideas produce trust? - Generally speaking - no; but we'll look at this one too.
Does trust come from with in us? - Another good question - we'll get back to this one too.
Do we trust ourselves? - Sometimes.
Do we learn to trust by reciting a bunch of words? - No.
Do we learn to trust by following a bunch of rules? - No - (but we do find out if the one who has layed down the rules is consistant)!
Can we find trust? - Maybe - we'll look at this one too.
How do we know when we are trusting? - Good question!

Well, now that we've eliminated some of these questions; in order to answer the rest, we have to figure out - "what is trust"?

We've already sort of "figured out" that trust and faith walk upon a foundation of truth. The next question of course is - how do we know if something is true? Can truth be proven? Sometimes, yes it can. There is some truth that is scientifically provable. There is some truth that is historically verifiable. "Provable" and "verifiable" truth fall along the lines of - if the outcome is 100% consistantly the same. Gravity always pulls objects toward it's center. All historical souces agree that the American Declaration of Independence was written in the year 1776 of the Gregorian Calender. Is there truth that can't be proven? I would venture to say - no there is not. The problem isn't the "proving" of truth, but having a means to be able to measure the proof!

So back to some of our unanswered questions:

Does performing a series of actions produce trust?
This question is answered in the measure of verifiable proof. If we get on a two-weel bicycle and lean too far one way; we will fall down. 100% of the time we lean too far one way; we will fall down. So, based on the consistancy of the results; we come to "trust" leaning too far one way on a two-wheel bicycle will cause us to fall down. The outcome of the action is 100% perdictable; (even if the outcome isn't desired).

Ok, so than what of actions we perform that don't give us a 100% perdictable outcome? Well, the answer to that is simple. We either continue doing something in an attempt to get a perdictable outcome, or we stop doing that same thing because we don't have a perdictable outcome.

So, does performing a series of actions produce trust? Only if the outcome is perdictable. When the outcome is not perdictable - this is what's called "doubt:". Should we forge ahead in doubt? We can, but doubt doesn't produce trust.

Does following a certain set of ideas produce trust?
Again, just like the last question; this will depend on if there is a foundation of perdictable truth that upholds the ideas.

Does trust come from with in us?
When considering whether or not an action or idea has a foundation of perdictable truth; we'd have to conclude that we would never know this without testing it. So than; does trust come from within us? No it doesn't.

Do we trust ourselves?
Only when we've tested something and found it to reside on a foundation of perdictable truth; do we "trust ourselves". But than again; it's not ourselves that we trust, but the outcome our testing has produced.

Can we "find" trust?
In so much as we can discover truth; yes, we can "find" trust. But again it's not "trust" that we've found but truth that creates trust on account of it's consistancy.

How do we know when we are trusting?
When we find truth to be absolutely consistant; we trust it to be real. This is how faith "becomes real"; when it has absolutely consistant results. Does faith ever have absolutely consistant results? Yes it does. I'll explain that in a minute.

"Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen"

People often look at this verse and get cought up on "the things hoped for" and the "things not seen" and totally miss the fact that faith is a "substance" and has an "evidence". Now the "things hoped for" are "not seen"; but that doesn't mean that "the substance" and "the evidence" is what we don't see. So, what is the substance of faith? The substance of faith is truth. What is the evidence of faith? The evidence of faith is trust in the truth! OK, so what is hoped for that isn't seen? Well, since trust isn't seen; maybe what's "hoped for" is more trust that what we have no way of verifibly measuring at this point - will one day be "measureable" (or manifest). Remember; when all things are finally made manifest. It's no more faith, but than it's sight! The manifestation of what will be seen by sight - will make our trust in truth complete!

(Yeah, I know - ya gotta read that last paragraph about 3 or 4 times to "get it". I myself had to read it 3 or 4 times and it's my hands that typed it!)

Scary huh!

Next post - we'll take a look at what is truth!

Bent Riders - (The view from the seat!)

2009-10-19T14:28:00.000-07:00

A "Bent Rider" is a cyclist who rides a recumbent bike!

Mine is what's called a "tadpole trike"

It was manufactured by Sun bicycles

This model is at the "lowest end" (price wise) of tadpole trikes.

@ about $1200.

Get close to nature!

"Love your mother! (earth)"

Of all recumbents; trikes are the closest to the ground. Most trike riders, when they "street ride" they "wear" flags on their bikes. The bike flags are the same big orange pennants you see on child carriers that attach to bicycles. I have two flags, one for me and one for my son's trailer. He has an adapted trailer with a seat in it. His trailor will carry a child up to 100lbs. I don't ride with him unless I have too since now he's almost 70lbs.

Ducks - lot's of ducks on the path. We have ducks, geese, pigions, hawks, crows, blue jays, sparrows, robins, a lot of other birds that I don't know the names of - and one blue heron!

Ducks like to get right in the path. Yet - so to cats, dogs, rabbits and an occasional fox.

This is a hunting dog; training in water retrieval. Her owner is hoping to show her next year.

Mirrors are a necessity on a recumbent; because you can't turn around very easily. Horns are good to have too; except "have aliens won't travel".

"Help me, Help me; where is the mother ship!"

This deserves and explaination all it's own!

A fountain for the parent.

A fountain for the child.

And one for the dog!

Time to go home!

"Take me to your leader!"

(P.S. I found my battery charger!!!! YES!!!)

"Renee, you gotta get down here - dad had a heart attack!"

2009-10-15T09:45:00.000-07:00

Three years ago today; I got that message on my answering machine from my sister. It was a Sunday morning at about 7:30; so I ran upstairs to get dressed.

We'd just gotten back from Scotland two days before this and had quite an interesting ride through a snowstorm in Buffalo NY coming back into the states from Toronto. Dad had left a message on our answering machine that Friday night - just calling to see if we were back yet. Saturday morning my sister had called me and told me he was in the hospital. My husband was at work and since Ben's respite worker was not available that day, but would be the next; I was gonna go up and visit dad Sunday afternoon. My sister called me Saturday night and said dad had been asking for me. I told her, "Well, if your going back up to the hospital, tell dad I'll be there tomorrow afternoon. I didn't have anyone to watch Ben and I didn't want to take him with me."

I jumped in my husband's car and headed to the hospital. He had a Phil Keggy CD in his disk player and half way down the expressway I heard 'ol Phil singing about "Time". I didn't cry or "get upset" or anything. I just drove down the road with the reality spinning through my head that "old man time" had run out for dad.

When I got to the hospital, dad was on a ventilator. He'd had a DNR, but since it was change of shift when he had the heart attack; the hospital staff unknowingly "resuscitated" him. Of course I knew he wasn't really alive any longer. He wasn't coming back and within about 20 minutes after they'd "unplugged" him; he was gone. Dad never made it to Sunday afternoon!

Time
Well He hasn't always been around
And He won't always be.
But He's on the move at this moment
Measuring life for you and me.

I fear we all submit to him
Existing anxiously,
And no one is able to turn him off
Except the Lord who holds the key.

When the Lord stops him, that'll be it,
Too late for apologies.
Too late to forgive your brother,
Too late to get on your knees.

When the Lord stops him, that'll be it,
Too late to help the needy
And worst of all it's too late to turn
You must face eternity.

His name is Time and he's coming to an end.
His name is Time where will you be my friend?
His name is Time and he's coming to an end.
His name is Time where will you be my friend?

Most people think he'll never stop
He'll go on perpetually,
But old man time is running out
And he'll cease eventually.

When the Lord stops him, that'll be it,
Too late for apologies.
Too late to forgive your brother,
Too late to get on your knees.

When the Lord stops him, that'll be it,
Too late to help the needy
And worst of all it's too late to turn
You must face eternity.

His name is Time and he's coming to an end.
His name is Time where will you be my friend?

So, three years have passed now and today is the anniversary of dad's death. He was just one more soul in this world who went out of it without any fanfare. No, he just drew his last breath and quietly expired in the corner of some hospital in north eastern United States somewhere. He did what probably thousands of people did on October 15, 2006. He stood before his God.

When ever I think of my parents dying; the question of hell arises. Not that hell it's-self is the question because being under the wrath of God is and will be a very real state of existence for some people. I don't know what really happened to dad in the realm of eternity? I can only hope God "jump started" his eternal life in a way the hospital staff couldn't jump start his body. Dad always said he wanted to sing with the choirs of angels in heaven and one of these days - maybe I'll see him there!

Dad was a good guy - although I know "goodness" doesn't redeem anyone. Only Jesus can do that. Through all the struggles I've had in life though; dad never stood in the way of me getting the help I needed. It was more important for him that I stayed alive, than any embarrassment he might feel over the mess our family was in. He drove me back and forth to the hospital every day when I was in the partial hospitalization program because of my depression and PTSD. He didn't care what people thought of him pulling up in front of the psych ward; he just wanted me to feel better.

Dad too was a moral guy - he knew the difference between right and wrong and never did anything to me that was evil. He certainly made some mistakes in life, periodically drank too much; but he wasn't cruel, wasn't selfish and wasn't particularly prone to flying into rages. He never molested any of his kids, never cheated on my mother. He didn't squander his financial resources. He took care of us, often times cooking dinner when mom was too drunk to do it herself. Dad cleaned the house too. All this while working swing shift for the local gas & electric. Dad in a lot of ways was my father and my mother.

After mom died; I'd visit dad every week and some times twice a week. We'd get together and go out to dinner, he'd come over to my house and have dinner. We went on a boat ride, went to an airplane show and did stuff like that. Occasionally he'd watch Ben; but that wasn't too often. Dad was growing weary and getting "old". He was sick and didn't have a whole lot of energy; but that didn't matter. I wanted to see him, not just have someone to unload my kid on. Boo was always happy to see grandpa and grandpa spent his holidays with us! Dad said he was always happy to come over to our house, because he felt like we really wanted him there.

Yeah dad, we really did - I wish you could come over tonight - we're having spaghetti!

A God like no other god!

2009-10-13T09:11:00.000-07:00

I’ve been thinking, pondering, musing over these past few days to a week - about my last comment left on my last post.

“When I think of all You went through; just that I might be able to stand in Your presence!”

I wasn’t sure what to write on this post, and I started with some what of a “theological explanation” of what thoughts have been wandering through my mind lately. Than I was reading some other blogs - and something sort of hit me. One other blogger was sharing a lot of the struggles she carries within herself and I was thinking how our “theology” should have very real ramifications in our lives. It should give us hope.

So, here in is my example of such a thing: This what had “struck me” from the other blog I read: Though I posted part of it there - I’ll “plagiarize” myself again and share the story here.

Hope in the Trials of Life:
Most people who’ve read this blog know I have a 7 year old boy who has Autism and seizures. We are in the process of changing neurologists and just recently had an appointment at the new Epilepsy center. Every time we have to go to the doctor or the hospital or even just in taking his medication every morning; the seizures have been a constant reminder to this child of his mortality.

He doesn’t particularly like doctors; yet when we pulled into the parking lot of the Epilepsy center - this song was on the radio. We sat in the car for a few extra minutes and listened to the whole song. I turned around and looked at Boo and told him - not to fear my dear - there will be a day when you will be free of all this. There will be no more doctors, no more hospitals, no more polkies (blood draws), no more meds, operations, tests, what ever; no more Autism either. There will be a day my dear when you will be free!

Boo went into the doctor’s office that day with some hope.

There Will be a Day
I try to hold on to this world
with everything I have,
But I feel the weight of what it brings,
and the hurt that tries to grab.
The many trials that seem to never end,
His world declares this truth,
That we will enter in His rest with wonders anew.

But I hold on to this hope and the promise that He brings,
There will be a place with no more suffering!

Chorus
There will be a day, with no more tears,
no more pain and no more fears.
There will be a day when the burdens of this place,
will be no more,
And we’ll see Jesus face to face!
But until that day, we’ll hold on to you always.

I know the journey seems so long,
you feel you’re walking on your own,
But there has never been a day,
when you’ve walked that road alone!
Troubled soul don’t loose your heart,
cause the joy and peace He brings,
And the beauty that’s in store,
outweighs the hurt of life’s sting!

But I hold on to this hope
and the promise that He brings,
That there will be a place with no more suffering!

There will be a day....(chorus)

I can’t wait until that day,
when the very One who’s loved always,
Will wipe away the sorrow from my face.
To touch the scars that rescued me
from a life of shame and misery,

This is why, this is why I say:

There will be a day, with no more tears,
no more pain and no more fears.
There will be a day, when the burdens of this place,
will be no more;
And we’ll see Jesus face to face.

There will be a day
He will wipe away the tears.
He will wipe away the tears.
He will wipe away the tears.

There will be a day!

There will be a day - yes! A day for a little boy who longs to be freed from all the trials and pains of seizures and Autism. A day when he’ll finally be understood for the person who lies inside of him and not just the disability we see on the outside! A little boy to be freed, by a God who is very different than any other god. In what religion would God ever sacrifice Himself to open a path to fellowship for a bunch of humans who don’t deserve it to begin with - none to say actually have the power to release a child from his disability? What other God is more interested in showing His love in what He’s done to release us captives from our sin; as opposed to pointing at us and demanding “What can you do for me?”

The answer to that question of course is - “nothing”! (As far as God is concerned - at least the true and living God - we have nothing to offer.)

So, I’ve been thinking about this now for the past couple of weeks. What kind of God would pass through the fires of His own wrath - on account of someone who really deserved that wrath? In a world of literally billions of people; what kind of God would heed to the cry of a “mentally defective” 7 year old who’s afraid of dying? Yeah, there’s certainly people in this world who are smarter than Boo, kids that are more obedient and students who are much better in school. “For the love of Pete” - Boo can’t even control his impulses to go running after soda cans he sees laying on the ground; none the less “do” something for God! Really, who is this child that anyone except maybe his mother and father should even care? Yet - there will be a day!

How many of us are so full of pride - following our own prescribed programs on how to “get right with God” - that we fail to see that in His eyes we are all “Autistic”!

“Ask not what you can do for your god - ask what proof he/she has offered that you are really loved?”

Gratitude!

2009-10-06T19:32:00.000-07:00

I just finished the ending of the last post on my other blog and I’m feeling kinda teary eyed.

At the risk of “plagiarizing” myself (and having this “sound weird”) - I decided to past the last portion of the post I wrote. The post it’s-self was about Adam and Eve, but the end was just my own musing of what one day my relationship to God will be like.

http://footprintsfromthegrave-biblestudypage.blogspot.com/
Fellowship with God:

Last but not least; one of the things that was profoundly affected by the transgression of Adam and Eve was their (and our) relationship to God.

I had a thought pop into my head many months ago when I started this topic in my studies. (The topic of Adam & Eve and the fall.) One of the things I know that often "surfaces" in the Bible is what's called a "Theophanie". A Theophanie is a representation of God (pre-incarnate Jesus) to people of the Hebrew Scripture. Understandably so, after Jesus's birth; Theophanies no longer appear. Examples of Theophonies are the three "angels" who came to Lot, the 4th man in the furnace with Shadrak, Meshack and Abendego. Also, when Moses saw God; that was a Theophanie. There's some debate as to whether Malchazideck was a Theophanie. The two "arch-angels" named in the Scripture may also be Theophanies. Michael - who's name means "who most assuredly is God" and Gabriel - which means "God-man".

Any how; Theophanies are common in Old Testament passages; and I've often wondered if the fellowship Adam and Eve had with God was also in the form of a Theophanie? Genesis talks about God "walking" in the garden and that Adam and Eve "heard his voice"; but it never states specifically that they ever "saw" Him. The possibility is there, but the Hebrew it's-self is hard to draw any conclusions from. Well, one day in this study; I was reading Genesis and it dawned on me - if they had actually seen a Theophanie, what would they have seen?

The thought struck my curiosity because in all other parts of the Scripture, when anyone saw Theophanies, angels, or were transported to heaven; all the figures they saw were clothed. Now of course this makes sense on account of our current state - i.e. a world in existence after the entrance of sin. And of course it also makes sense in the context of fallen man reading a written script that's describing things of heaven. It prevents our own sinfulness of getting in the way of the description. Yet I can't help but wonder what about the state of Adam and Eve before the fall? Since for reasons of elemental protection and sin; clothing had no context for them - so if they'd seen a Theophanic representation of God - would He have been clothed? My guess would be - probably not.

Now I know that idea probably makes a lot of people snicker, squirm or even have less favorable inclinations toward the thought; but aside from our sinfulness - I wonder what such a transparent relationship with God would be like? I think I sort of have an idea when I think of what it means to be indwelt by the Spirit of God and be well aware that He sees all my iniquity. What of a relationship though where I had no iniquity? I know one day that will happen and I will have an incorruptible fellowship with God. One in which I will know Him as well as He knows me. One in which the parabolic representation of a nude Theophanie will be an insufficient descriptor for the transparency of our relationship. The thought of actually knowing God better than I think I even know myself is a truly humbling idea. That He would stoop to share Himself in such a personal way with any of us. But I guess that makes sense when I consider what He went through, just so that I would be able to be in His presence in the first place!

If that doesn't make us grateful - it should!

The thought of what He went through just for me to be able to be in His presence in the first place - doesn’t just make me grateful - it makes me want to cry.

Veterans - Issues of Faith - Genocide in the Old Testament?

2009-10-01T12:18:00.000-07:00

Now here's a topic I've always found difficult. Reading what happened in the Hebrew Scripture concerning wars and battles has often left me wondering what was "up with God" in that era? Compare those wars to the type of character Jesus was. After all, Jesus himself never went to war, never killed any body, nor did he ever command his followers to do so in the name of His Kingdom.

So, looking at the Israel of the Old Testament; it's fair game to ask - what kind of justice is there in one obviously sinful nation (Israel) slaughtering the people of some other obviously sinful nation? That doesn't seem to me to be holy behavior. I know obviously "things were different" at different points in history; but "different" doesn't always amount to "right"!

Modern Warfare:
In today’s conflicts; there is something called "the Geneva Convention". This was a document that was drawn up at the end of World War One that contained "rules of war" which (I believe) had been signed by all the parties who had been involved in the First World War. After WWII; more nations signed this document agreeing that there would be certain restrictions in warfare. Any one who joins the American military (or civilian contractors over seas who act as auxiliary functionaries too the military) is / are instructed as to what is in the Geneva Convention, what is permissible in war and what is not.

For example:
1. Military members can not kill unarmed civilians. They can only kill civilians that actually attack them; these civilians thus become "combatants".

2. You can't kill prisoners that you take. You also can not treat them inhumanely either. You can not torture, rape, or use them as forced labor. (Here is where the Abu Grey prison incidents were clearly a violation of this.)

3. You can not take unarmed civilians as prisoners. An EPW (POW) is strictly a combatant from the opposing side. Some times though, it's hard to determine who is really a civilian and who is actually a combatant. You can not terrorize civilians though to "flush out" combatants.

4. You can not kill military medical personal who are treating the wounded on the battlefield. Although when the medical personal are also armed and start shooting back - they than become combatants.

5. You can not kill military "religious personal" - people who are acting in capacity as chaplains / religious leaders who may be tending to the wounded or conducting burial for the dead.
(Basically you are not suppose to shoot at anyone who isn't shooting back.)

6. You are not permitted to destroy historical landmarks of "the enemy" - this includes places of worship, schools, orphanages, hospitals, buildings of public utility - like libraries etc. Government buildings though are fair game to take possession of or destroy in combat.

7. You are not permitted to take material possessions of civilians; (you can't steal their gold rings, coins, things that may have value) nor artifacts that are deemed of historical value to that nation. Historical artifacts (or buildings) though have been known to be confiscated by military personal because they've been used as a cover to hide weapons. This has also been an issue with schools and hospitals. Here is where it's customary of the American and European forces to warn the leadership (and the people) of the opposing nation; if there are weapons stashes in your schools or hospitals - we will bomb them - so thus if you put the lives of innocent civilians in the line of fire - you are responsible for their deaths.

8. Militaries are not to use chemical and biological agents in warfare.

Here are some examples of the restrictions put upon warfare in the modern era. Military personal or civilian contractors who violate these rules can be prosecuted under military or international law for war crimes. Soldiers have the right to refuse an order that is unlawful. If your platoon Sargent tells you to go into this opposing village and kill every 3rd person - you have the right to refuse that order. You are protected from court martial (for not following an order) by the UCMJ (uniform code of military justice).

This is where things can get very sticky in combat situations. An officer can legally kill a man for disobeying an order; (it's very rare that it comes to that, but it is "legal"). Now if an officer kills a man for disobeying an unlawful order, that constitutes murder and there have been cases where other men in the platoon have killed the officer in return. (After such incidents, military command structure "takes over" and the next highest ranked person becomes the platoon leader.) This has also happened in regards to men committing war crimes on the "battle field". You can be legally killed by other personal in your own military.

Ancient Times:
Now when I'd joined the military myself and was facing Desert Storm; I was glad those rules were in place. Although some other military personal argued that if the enemy doesn't follow the Geneva Convention - why should we? To me as well as many others; it was an issue of conscience. Even if my conscience got me killed; I'd rather die than go down doing something God would be unhappy with.

Needless to say, this always created a conflict within me. I'd look at what my own conscience would allow me to do (or not do) in the theater of combat and than I'd read about the wars in the Old Testament and scratch my head. If it's the same God from "Old" to "New"; what am I missing here? I knew my conscience could not be more righteous than God.

(Just to clarify here; I'm not a pacifist. I believe there are times when war is "justifiable". Now granted there always is a lot of injustice that happens in the midst of any war and there are certainly unjust wars; but that does not make warfare it's-self unlawful under any circumstances. I still would kill someone in self-defense, or to protect the lives of others. At this point, I don't have an "issue of conscience" over that. Be that considered by anyone to be a "right" or "wrong" attitude for a Christian to have? At this point, I don't judge my own conscience over it. Fortunately in my adult life; I have never found myself directly in the path of anyone who seriously intended to physically harm me, so I've never been practically confronted with having to kill someone. Undoubtedly, I would be seriously psychologically affected by the experience if I ever am. The closest I've come to this, was my husband and I were intercepted by an aggressive snarling dog in the road once. He picked up a rather large rock and I grabbed a tree branch that was about the size of a billy club. We were prepared to kill the thing if that's what it came to.)

One thing I've learned about studying the Bible is that it's rather cleverly written. There's a lot you can miss if you're not reading it real carefully. One of these difficult passages is Numbers 31.

Numbers 31:
The chapter opens with God telling Moses to "Execute the vengeance of the sons of Israel against the Midianites". To this Moses gathers an army of 12,000 men and goes to war against the Midianites. Verse 7 says "And they warred against Midian as the Lord had commanded Moses and killed every male." A few verses later, those who'd fought bring all the captive women and children near to the camp of Israel and Moses, Eleazar the priest and all the rulers of the people go out to meet them.

When Moses sees all these people, he flies into a rage (this is literally what the Hebrew says; Moses "snaps") and says to the officers of the army "Behold, (among) these are those who through the counsel of Balaam caused the sons of Israel a deliverance of treachery against the Lord in the matter of Peor and the plague came upon the people of the Lord."

Now to understand the context of "the matter of Peor" - we'd have to read back a couple of chapters. Back in chapter 25 there is an incident where several thousand men of Israel begin committing whoredom with some of these women of Moab. (Midian was a smaller tribe of the larger Moab.) Along with this whoredom they start worshiping idols and apparently brought back into the camp of Israel some sexually transmitted plague. To stop this plague from spreading through the nation on account of these particular men apparently having loose morals; Moses commands all the judges in Israel to put these men to death. This problem among the people had become so flagrant that one of these men walks right past Moses with one of these prostitutes and goes into his tent. Aaron's grandson grabs a javelin and follows these two into the tent and pierces through the two of them (probably in the act) and stops the plague. When it's all over 24,000 men of Israel are dead.

Gathering from some extra-Biblical historical sources; apparently what had happened is that these particular Midianites were nomadic tribal raiders. They pestered the towns and cities on the boarders of Moab and were generally a nuisance to the empire of Moab. Israel at that point was camped in the plains on the north east side of Moab. They had gone around the Moab empire (after being denied the use of the king's highway along the boarder of the empire) and were headed north west to the promised land. God had told Israel not to disturb Moab for they were not to receive any of Moab's land. So they'd gone around Moab and were on the northern end going away from Moab when these Midianites came to them and took up camp along some of the towns nearest to Israel.

Now apparently there were some kings in Moab's empire who wanted to mount a military campaign against Israel. They knew that they couldn't defeat them on the battlefield though because of God. So they consulted with Balaam who was "a prophet" who'd had prior experience with Israel. Balaam had been previously hired by another king to curse Israel and he couldn't do it. Balaam had even been confronted and instructed by the God of Israel, but Balaam remained hard at heart toward this nation. So, based on his prior experience he consulted with these kings of Moab and these nomadic Midianites as to how to get to Israel militarily. Because God was their protectorate; they'd have to cause Israel to sin against God in order to get them to loose that protection. So, these Midianites set out specifically with the intent to prostitute themselves to these men of Israel and lure them into idol worship. (Because that would really get God ----> hoppin mad.)

(Although I don't agree with some of conclusions of the writers of this web-page; which you'll understand why by the conclusion of this post - they have good historical reference info:)
http://www.christian-thinktank.com/midian.html

So, here we are at the end of this battle that God had sent them out to; in order to "avenge the sons of Israel". These sons that they are avenging are likely the wives and children of these men who died in this plague. These men of Israel have suffered the just consequences for their own sins. They are dead. What of the other parties though who'd brought this upon these families? This is what this war was about. It was never meant to be a whole sale slaughter of all of Midian (and it wasn't); only a judgement against those who'd perpetrated this deceit.

The opening verse of Chapter 31 actually gives the parameters of this war. It doesn't come out real clear in the English, but when we look at the Hebrew words; we get a clearer understanding of whom they were actually instructed to war against in this "avenging". "Avenge" here means to punish, to execute vengeance or "revenge" upon. Vengeance being God's purgative; He's going to use the armies of Israel to destroy these certain people of Midian. In the English it says "of the Midianites" or "against the Midianites". In Hebrew the word is made up of two different Hebrew words - one means "from or out of" and the other word means "near unto" or "with". So we have:

"Execute the vengeance of the sons of Israel - of those who came from (or out of) & who were near unto (or with) the Midianites."

So we got two things going on here - the Midianites who "came out" or "came from" and the Israelites who were "with" or "near unto" (the Midianites). In verse 7 it simply says that they had killed all the Midianite men as God had commanded them. Keep in mind now that God had only commanded them to kill those responsible, not every male Midianite they could find! The following verse says that in addition to those God had commanded them to kill, they also killed 5 kings of Midian: Evi, Rekem, Zur, Hur, Rebah and the prophet Balaam.

Now they come back to the camp and Moses is hoppin mad because they only did half of what they were suppose to do. God had commanded them to kill all the Midianites who were responsible for this, not just the men; but the women who were responsible also. Moses in his rage though sort of loses it and commands the men to kill everyone except female virgin children. Note though that this isn't what God had commanded them to do! This command came down from Moses who was just real pissed off at the moment. Later on we'll see though that what Moses had commanded in his flash of rage isn't actually what happened. Here in though is another instance where it takes real careful reading to catch that!

It's just a few Hebrew words and phrases that give it away though. One is "the prey both of man and beast". Another is "the captives, and the prey...."
Vs. 9 - "took the women of Midian captives"
Vs. 11 - "and they took all the spoil and all the prey both of men and beasts"
Vs. 12 - "and they brought the captives and the prey"

Notice "the captives" and "the prey" are two separate things. The "prey" consist of both man and beast. "Man" in this verse is not gender specific. It's "mankind" i.e. human beings. In other parts of the Scripture; anyone who was in the middle of the conflict and didn't resist; they could take captive - male or female. If this "prey" only consisted of female captives - the language wouldn't say "of men and beasts" it would say "of women and beasts". So, out of this I've concluded that this "prey" probably consisted of both adult men and women along with children who'd been taken in this conflict although were not fighting Israel. They were "collateral gain" in this war.

Now if "the prey" were collateral gain; who were "the captives"? The captives were the women who were the other responsible parties in the Peor incident. Their male counterparts were dead and they were captives. Now when we get to verse 25 and 26 God says to Moses "Take the sum of the prey....both of man and beast...". Notice God says nothing about the captives (because the captives are now dead). In the rest of this passage, no where does it talk about "the captives".

The last "clincher" verse is 35. "And 32000 persons in all, (from out of which) were the women who'd not known a man by laying with him." This word "persons" is literally "living men". Again it's not a gender specific term. It doesn't say "32000 women in all...." With in the total of these 32000 people, were "the women who'd not known a man by laying with him". This term too is also very specific; it is the word "adult woman" not the word "child". It's talking about adult virgin women who could be taken as a wife by a man of Israel if he'd found one he wanted to marry. (i.e. Ruth and Boas for instance - Ruth was not a captive, but she was a foreigner.)

So, of the "prey", the foreign families that remained in tact lived among Israel as servants and laborers. The pre-pubescent children (both male and female) who's parents had been killed on account of their involvement in the Peor incident; were divided up among the households of Israel. The virgin women were available for marriage to the men who didn't already have wives.

In Conclusion:
Now am I saying more about what happened in this Numbers 31 passage than what's actually there? Not if you take into account all the commandments God had given Israel. Just like modern warfare; their military engagements were to be confined by certain "rules of war". Ironically when we search though the Scripture, Israel's "rules of war" were very similar to the Geneva Convention. With the exception of the stuff about property; the one major difference being that non-combative captives got incorporated into their society. "Combatants" either died in the war, or combative captives were executed.

If we take a look at Deuteronomy 20; we'll see some of the "rules of warfare". At first blush, just like the passage in Numbers 31; it "doesn't look good". That though, is because people have a tendency to assume things to be there that the passage is really not saying. (We make assumptions of God that He is as wicked as we are!) It takes a very detailed eye to understand of what is omitted as being "not permitted". It also takes knowing what is in the whole of the book to know what was not permitted. Did Israel always follow these rules? Of course not; but that's what got them in trouble too!

"Thanks for clearing that up for me! You really are TOTALLY consistant and truely holy! What a joy that is to me."

Biblical Data on Marriage, (People's ages and who was eligable)

2009-09-27T20:43:00.000-07:00

I've been hunting through the Hebrew again! (Some times gets "dangerous" when I do that!)

Marriage:
Any how; I was looking up words in my concordances / lexicons / reference books / Interlinear Bible / historical reference - what ever I got currently! And found my "suspicions" to be surprisingly accurate. Now, the last post I did; had to do with Jesus's mother Mary and how old she likely was when Jesus was born. Much of my approximation being based on what we know of anthropology, archeology and the science of human development prior to the 20th century.

This post is sort of a continuation of the last one, but will be addressing marriage issues as presented in the Hebrew Scripture (Old Testament) and ages related to what was considered childhood as opposed to adulthood. The last post talked about how puberty started later in centuries past than it does today. This of course was true of both genders. Interestingly enough, I've found the Hebrew words themselves bear this out. There are some very specific words related to "children", others for "adults" and a few various ones for some of those strange stages that may fall in-between or among this passing from childhood to adulthood.

Hebrew has several words denoting different ages and stages. I'm not going to attempt to put the words themselves here because I am not sure how to do so in "switching languages" on this blog; so - please pardon the missing word info. There are 11 words used for “child”.

Words:

(The “Strong’s number references” are to the Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance of the Bible.)

1. "Suckling" - this word covered those who were still being breast fed. This could include a chronological age range of birth to three years old. The tradition in ancient Judaism (and other various cultures through out history) was to wean a child at three years old. This is when "infancy" was "officially" over. (Strong’s # 5768)

2. "Child" - (pre-pubescent) This word indicated an age range of birth through teenage years. There are several derivatives of this word, some of which indicate secondary stages of development in the contexts they are used. One of these derivatives is very specific and the only word used in speaking of females who are "betrothed" to be married. This derivative I believe was meant to indicate girls who'd surpassed the onset of menstruation; for the prim word "child" is never used in a betrothal, marriage or sexual reproductive context. (Strong’s # 5288)

3. "Child" - (post-pubescent - usually translated “damsel”) It's interesting to note that in the ancient Hebrew culture; a young woman was not considered an "adult" until she'd gotten married and moved away from her father. This is pretty much still true of near eastern cultures. Interestingly though, this particular "post-pubescent child" word applied only to girls. Boys on the other hand were still linguistically considered "pre-pubescent child" until they'd completed puberty. In the Hebrew wording, a boy went from "child" to "man" with no intermediate word to denote puberty. In all the words making reference to "betrothed" the word "man" is always used in reference to the male partner of the marriage. The word "child" (which could include a male up to 20 years old) is never used. (Strong’s # 5291)

4. “boy child” (2056)

5. “a woman who is pregnant / with child” (2030)

6. “to conceive” (2029)

7. “something born” (animals, people - from a prime root that means to beget, bear young or give birth) (3206, & 3205 - root)

8. “offspring regardless of age” - (most commonly used “children of Israel”) (1121)

9. “sole, beloved, only child / only son” (from a prime root meaning to be united with) (3173, root 3161)

10. “offspring that is sown” (generally an agricultural term) (2233)

11. “one who takes little tripping steps” (used rarely, probably reference to toddlers) (2945)

Example: - Joseph (Jacob's son):

Genesis 37:2 says Joseph was 17 years old when he was sold into slavery by his brothers. Four chapters later (two years having passed - which would have made Joseph 19 or 20) Pharaoh's butler makes reference to Joseph as being a "young man" (pre-pubescent child word) back two years prior when the two of them were in prison together. Now the fact that this particular word was used to describe him; (instead of "man") I find very interesting. Knowing what we know of the later onset of puberty in girls in prior centuries - it's conceivable that Joseph could very well have been in the early stages of puberty at 17 years old.

Now boys usually start puberty after girls do. The average "lag" being one year. Puberty in boys and girls is about the same length (3 to 4 years) and the age range for onset in boys could be up to 5 years. (For girls it's 4 years. This means that statistically speaking that it was extremely rare to find a male or female who'd started puberty before 14 years old.) If the average age of onset of puberty for girls prior to the 20th century was 15 years old; the average onset for boys would have been 16 years old. Boys hit their major "puberty growth spurt" two years into the process, which would have put Joseph "right there" (about 18 years old) at the time he was put in prison.

Besides what we know of anthropology; other places in Scripture bear out this truth too in regards to ages stated to be appropriate for certain tasks. For example: priests who served in the temple had to be 20 years old or more. You were obligated at 20 years old to bring your own offerings to the tabernacle or temple. You had to be twenty years old to make your own independent dedications at the tabernacle or temple. You had to be 20 years old to fight in a war. All those of 20 years old and up who murmured against God in the wilderness didn't enter the promised land. Although I have not found where this was expressly stated; there were kings in Israel who co-reigned with their fathers because they were not considered old enough to reign independently. Twenty was the "magic number". It was the point where males were considered to be full fledged men.

So, taking that into consideration; looking at who was eligible to be married. For a male according to the text of the Hebrew words themselves - you had to be "a man"; which meant you had to be twenty years old or more. For a female, you didn't have to be twenty years old; but you had to have began menstruating. At that time in history; that would have put you between 16 and 19 years old.

Now, were there child brides in the ancient near east? Well yes there certainly were. There are records of such in ancient Egypt; but according to the Hebrew Scripture - that was not suppose to happen. Of course it was OK, and in some ways appropriate for families to organize and arrange for their children to be married when they reached an eligible age; but no-where was it ever deemed appropriate to give a 6, 9 or 12 year old girl to an adult male as a wife. (Or even to marry pre-pubescent children to each other.) The fact that God excludes pre-pubescent human beings from the marriage language tells us (at least indirectly) what His opinion of such a matter is. It’s a perversion of God’s intentions for human unions.

And so again; the righteousness of God shows through. For any of us who may have wondered about such things back in antiquity; I think we can safely say that this notion that it’s OK or even desirable to marry off little children to grown adults is not upheld by the God of the Bible. No, that is just another abuse that has arisen out of the minds of twisted men. It’s a great comfort for me to know (especially as a survivor) that God does not concede to such things.

AMEN!
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8&9

Sexual Abuse Survivors - Issues of Faith - Jesus's mom?

2009-09-25T13:09:00.000-07:00

The beginning of the revamped blog is here! Tada! :D

(I want to work some more at putting some pretty vines of flowers or something in the back ground - maybe a new template - I 'll have to search around. I got some drawing ideas I want to incorporated into it too.)

Mary - Jesus's mom:

Any how - here is the first "new post" of my revamped blog! It will deal with a question that has popped up for many abuse survivors in regards to the actions of God and His holiness. The question has to do with Mary, Jesus's mother and how old was she when the Holy Spirit had conceived Jesus in her? Many traditions estimate her age to be about 14 or 15 years old, some saying as young as 12. This of course has raised many questions with sexual abuse survivors, not to mention society in general in dealing with teen pregnancy. Many survivors themselves may have been pregnant at 14 or 15, due either to issues of abuse or the promiscuity that often arises out of abuse. The "looking for love in all the wrong places" and the issues that creates has left many a survivor in a quandary. Looking at this supposed age of Mary; we often ask: How could a holy God burden a young teenage girl with caring for an infant? (Not to mention the stigma and danger of that day of being pregnant "out of wedlock" (so to speak)?)

Granted there's a lot of sin recorded in the Bible; but this question arises specifically in regard to the action of God, not the actions of sinful men! As a survivor myself, I've had to deal with this question also. It's an important one in the journey of faith and also can be one of the first obstacles sexual abuse survivors find in regard to God and His direct actions. We often feel that God has let us down in the fact that the abuse happened in the first place; now to have some priest, preacher or teacher tell us Mary was 12 or 14! What? - Something inside of us just tells us that aint right and many times a survivor may just draw the conclusion that God really doesn't care anyways. He's no more holy than men; so why follow Him?

When I first became interested in Christianity, I too had heard that on the radio; (that Mary was 14 or 15). I didn't believe it and I thought to myself - that can't be right? Who came up with that supposed age in the first place? There's nothing in the Scripture that ever tells us how old Mary was! This notion is actually just made on inference as to what people think they know about marriage and human development in antiquity. People who make this claim about Mary being very young are missing one vital piece of information - they lack knowledge of how human development has changed in the past 100 years!

Human Development, Jewish Customs:
To most of our ancestors the age of Mary when Jesus was born was never an issue. This has only become problematic in the past 100 years or so on account of the fact that humans enter puberty earlier today than they did prior to the dawning of the 20th century. The average age of the onset of menstruation for women prior to 1900 was 17; today it's 11 (and declining)! Ironically the age of menopause has remained consistent though out the centuries - it is 55. Why has the age of menstruation dropped? It has to do with our food supply. We eat far more meat than people in past centuries did, and our meat is laced with growth hormones. Even today, if we look at children who eat primarily a vegetarian diet; we will see that they enter puberty later than their meat eating peers. Again, the average age of the onset of menstruation for vegetarian girls is 17. I had a friend in highschool who was a vegetarian; and this was the case with her.

Now statistically speaking the average length of puberty in girls in 3 to 4 years. From the onset of puberty to the point that the first menstrual cycle begins is roughly 2 years. It can be longer, but it wouldn't be shorter. If the average age of the onset of menstruation was 17, the average age of the onset of puberty in girls would have been 15. Since the time span of puberty it's-self is rather short the percentile rank (or standard deviations) on either side of the mean would not be very large either. What this means statistically, is that 75% of women would have started menstruating after 16, (87.5 after 15&1/2 years old) and 1% or smaller would have started menstruating before 15. So, the statistical probability that Jesus's mother Mary would have fallen under that 1% is pretty slim. On the flip side of that statistic, because the completion of puberty generally falls closer to menstruation than the onset, 87.5% of woman would have commenced menstruation before they'd reached 18.

So, in the case of Mary, when the angel came to her and told her that she would conceive a child; we know by the context of her response that she was physically capable (had surpassed menstruation at that point) of bearing a child. Also in ancient Jewish tradition a woman's eligibility to be married hinged upon the commencement of menstruation. In ancient Judaism the idea was to get married and have babies. It was considered improper to marry someone who was not sexually mature enough to produce children. (That was true in many cultures.) After menstruation commenced, if the families had a husband in mind - that would be the point in which they'd notify his family that she was eligible. There’d be a ceremony to announce the engagement; (which generally lasted a year) before the couple would celebrate their actual wedding and consummate their marriage after the wedding ceremony. Some where in that year between the engagement and the actual wedding ceremony is where the angel came to Mary. So taking all this time into consideration; Mary was likely between 18 and 19 years old when Jesus was born.

As for the late onset of puberty in times past; I think this had a very practical application to it in God's order. One aspect of human development that has not changed over the years is the maturation of our nervous systems. Myelin sheathing in the brain gives us the ability to reason out the consequences of our actions. This process starts when a child is about 8 or 9 years old and continues up until they are about 16 or so. When puberty began later, we had more reasoning ability to deal with the onset of sex hormones produced by puberty. The earlier onset of puberty today leaves our kids at a great disadvantage to be able to cope. The cycle and order of things are out of wack - which creates all kinds of problems.

Understanding Statistical Data:
Another thing people often misunderstand about ancient times is what was the average life expectancy as opposed to average human life span. People look at life expectancy and assume people got married earlier because they didn't live as long. Life expectancy and life span are two different things though. I didn't realize this myself until I'd taken a science class in college called "Growth and Ageing". One of the projects we did addressed these distinctions specifically. We went through a very large, very old cemetery in our local area and collected data on the tomb stones. We recorded age at death and death dates from the headstones; than we divided these up into two categories. People who'd died prior to 1910 and people who'd died after 1910. We found in both eras there were people who lived to be 70, 80 and 90 years old. The only difference was that there were more people who'd lived longer in the later half of the 20th century, than had lived longer in the later half of the 19th century.

So, what did this teach us?

The average life expectancy in America has risen in the past 100 years; although the average life span has not. The average life span of a human being is about 75 to 85 years. There are some people that live into their 90's, but very few (in comparison to the global population) make it over 100. Compare this to average life expectancy over the years. That is a statistic that varies with time depending on a lot of factors. Outbreaks of disease, wars, and disasters can effect the statistic of life expectancy.

Take a look at the Soviet Union over the 20th century for example. From 1950 to 2000 the life expectancy of people who'd lived in the area that was the Soviet Union rose on account of that country was not involved in any major wars over those 50 years, nor had they had any massive plagues of disease. From 1900 to 1950 though World War Two alone killed 63 Million Soviets. That had a huge impact on the statistical data of the life expectancy of that country. If you loose nearly a whole generation to a war, that cuts your life expectancy from say maybe 75 years to about 45 years, because a huge chunk of people between 20 and 30 years old are now missing from the population. Did the war shorten the average life span of people in the Soviet Union? No, it just shortened the life expectancy. Because of the war you were not expected to reach 85; especially if you were a 20 year old male in 1940.

Let's take a look at Roman life expectancy statistics:
Many people make the assumption that the average life expectancy (ALE) of Ancient Rome was only 40 or so years old. In reality though because statistical data on Ancient Rome is very scant; we don't really know what the life expectancy was across the empire. Many assume it was very low. (As low as 25 years old.) We do have some statistical census data from specific places that has survived though; of which the following subsets of statistics come from. The median life expectancy being 50 years old.

http://www.utexas.edu/depts/classics/documents/Life.html

Again though, statistics depended on your age. The older you got the statistical probably that you would live longer rose to a certain apex and than declined again, it would continue to decline until you again reached a certain age and than survival rates would increase again. This apex being about 15 years old on one end and 50 years old on the other. For example, at birth you had a 33% chance of dying, which put your ALE at 25 years old. At age 5 your chance of dying before reaching your ALE decreased to about 10%, which put your ALE at 48 years old. Your "chance of dying" (under peaceful conditions baring plagues) remained at about 10% until about 15 years old, than your chances of dying rose to about 20%. At 10 years old your ALE became 51 - (chance of dying still at about 10%). If you reached 20, your ALE was 54 (chance of dying at 20%). At 30 your ALE was 59 (chance of dying rising to about 30%). At 40 your ALE was 63 (chance of dying now rose to 40%), At 50 it was 67 and now your chance of dying before you reached 67 began to decrease again. This is where the statistical mean of average life expectancy comes from.

So what does this have to do with Mary's age at Jesus's birth?

Many assume that because the median statistical age was 50, that Mary would have had to be younger when she had Jesus to still be alive at the time of the crucifixion. There's a fallacy in this line of thought though, especially when we take into consideration the age of Jesus.

Jesus was approximately 6 months shy of his 40th birthday when he was crucified. How do we know this? King Herod (Herod the Great) that wanted to kill Jesus when he was a baby died in 4 B.C. (That date is provided by period secular sources.) This decree went out at an estimated 2 years after Jesus was born. (It took the Wisemen 2 years to get to Jerusalem.) 2 years prior to King Herod's death would have been 6 B.C. Joseph, Mary and Jesus were in Egypt probably about a year. This would back us up one more year; putting Jesus's birth at about 7 B.C. Jesus was probably born during the Feast of Tabernacles; (for God would tabernacle among them) which would have been in the fall of that year. We know Jesus was crucified in 33 AD, because it was the only year of that era where the Passover fell on a Thursday night.

Now if Jesus himself was almost 40 years old, his ALE being 63, of course his mother's ALE would have exceeded 63 at that point (since she obviously was not the same age as Jesus). So according to the statistical data; how old would Mary have been? Well, if the average age of menstruation was 17 and Jesus was 40 years old than Mary would have been at least 57. At nearly 60 years old, Mary's ALE was 70 and she had only about a 35% chance of dying before she'd reached 70.

The Gentle Loving Kindness of a Holy God:
One last thing of very important note that I believe is of great benefit for us to realize; (especially those of us who may be very afraid of God and the consequences of what God says will or won't happen) is that God actually gave Mary a choice in this. The angel Gabriel came to Mary and declared to her what God's intent was with the implication that this would not occur without her permission. Verse 37 of Luke 1 records Mary's response. She says yes, I am a servant of the Lord and "be it unto me according to Your word".

So, the Holy Spirit overshadowed her and created in her womb a child out of her DNA. (Eggs have all 46 chromosomes until they are fertilized.) This was an act of creation, but not an act of sexual reproduction. God bypassed that process, so Mary and Joseph would one day have the joy of discovering it on their own. God respected their union and her body because He is holy, righteous and just! He would not violate His own laws; nor would He ask us to do so either!

As the angel Gabriel told Mary - So God tells us:

Fear Not!

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he hath anointed me to preach glad tidings to the poor, He has sent me to heal the broken hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, and the opening of the prisons to them that are bound, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord."

Isaiah 61:1&2, Luke 4:18&19

This Blog Soon to be Undergoing a Radical Change!!!

2009-09-24T15:55:00.000-07:00

Change is Good!

Been doing some thinking, pondering, muttering and the such like and have come to the conclusion that this blog will be undergoing some radical changes in the very near future. It's getting a total overhaul. New Name, (same blog address though) New Layout and broader subject matter. I'm finding this blogging experience to be rather interesting and now see the need for some changes to this particular one.

New Title - (probably be) Artisan's Odyssey Home

New Lay Out - something more green, mellow, artsy

Expanded Subject Content - (will still be posting clothing posts when the mood strikes) added art and craft type ideas / posts, more poetry, short stories, drawings, paintings, thoughts, musings, "life updates", home made videos and the such like. I find the "life" of creativity is so much more broad than clothing styles and choices. (Besides, there's only so much about clothing a person can write about - (barring total boredom and redundancy)!

Also, I've come to the conclusion that this blog needs to be a better reflection of where I'm at today. I've grown and changed some in the past 6 months and when I started this blog, I thought it would be a good to do a "common ground" type of blog for modest dressing women of all different backgrounds and walks of life. Not that that's a bad idea, since there are plenty of "modesty" blogs out there already; but I've come to realize that I'm not particularly "cut out" to be the "diplomatic ambassador" among peoples of differing religions.

I myself have many strong convictions and though I'm fine with many differing customs of other cultures or religions; I find I have to draw the line on issues of morality. If there is any prophet / holy man of any religion we are called to emulate the life of - the record of that person's deeds aught to be of exemplary character and moral standing. Like wise, this ought to be true of holy writings deemed to be passed down to us from God. If the "holy works" of our religion instruct us to commit sin; in the words of Apollo 13's astronauts - we should be saying - "Huston, we have a problem!"

Granted, most notably in the Old Testament, there were many immoral acts; (idolatry, adultery, murder, lying stealing etc) committed by people of God (David, Solomon, Sampson, Jacob and even Abraham) - in none of these cases though were any others ever instructed to copy the deeds of their lives. On the flip side of this there were far many more good examples of fidelity, faith and upholding of moral principals, even when they did commit sin on occasion (Noah, Moses, Joseph, Benjamin, Ruth, Esther, Joshua, Ezra, Nehemiah, Job, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, etc (yeah I know, looks like a list of the books of the Hebrew Scripture.)

Of the personalities of the Christian Scripture; although there are good examples of faith and courage, the only life we are ever instructed to look like is that of Jesus. He being the only person who'd ever walked this earth and never sinned, is of course a standard that none of us would ever live up to. Even so, that quality it's-self is what attracted me to him specifically when I was a teenager. I felt I could trust someone who'd never acted to the detriment of anyone on account of his own selfishness. Although I understood the wrath of God to be a very real thing, Jesus's holiness also made him incredibly safe to me.

Of anyone who'd ever "started a religion"; if we'd been contemporaries in our lives here on earth, and I'd followed him for the entirety of my life - I never would have seen him sin against me or anyone else. Jesus never lied to anyone, never stole anything or cheated anyone out of anything, never fought in any battles, never killed anyone, was not a sexual pervert (matter of fact remained a virgin his entire life). On the flip side of this, he healed the sick, made the disabled whole, raised the dead, and even the forces of nature obeyed his command.

No-one else on earth has even attempted to claim all that!

So, in conclusion here; my blog is about to take a turn that more accurately reflects the direction I'm going. Still, just as is now - anyone who cares to accompany me along this new path is welcome. I'll endeavor to share a life of creativity, lived out under the shadow of God's grace.

The Clothes that you don't know you have!

2009-09-16T16:38:00.000-07:00

OK - still looking for that stupid battery charger! Ahhhh!!!
(Is of the opinion that posts like this are awfully boring without pictures to look at!)

(Deep breath!)

Well, alright I did the big "fall clothes switch over"! This time though, instead of putting all the "summer" / "spring" stuff away; I laid everything out on my bed and looked over my entire wardrobe. If you got stuff stored away somewheres and are looking for new combinations - (without having to rob the wallet for new items) I've found this to be quite an adventurous idea. We all always have stuff "we know we've got" - we just don't always know what we've got that might go with something else we've got that we don't know goes with that something else we've got because we never have them out together to "mix up" the seasons.

Does that make sense?

Now of course, if you're someone like me (who lives in a multi-season climate) than your not going to be wearing wool skirts in the middle of July. Frankly though, I was surprised the "summery" stuff I had that paired well with heavier items. And an added bonus is that this time of year; these things work well for fall layering. (When it's cold in the morning / evening and warm in the afternoon.)

So, any ways - that is what I've been doing "wardrobe wise" lately.

(Now if I can just find that battery charger?)

Footprints From the Grave - Bible Study Page

2009-09-11T20:08:00.000-07:00

Hey all!

I started a new blog. Come check it out (if you wish, dare or otherwise)!

LOL

http://footprintsfromthegrave-biblestudypage.blogspot.com/

Overcoming Insecurities

2009-09-10T18:33:00.000-07:00

Well, the Boo meister is back in school and for the life in me - I can't find the battery charger for the camera! (Somewhere in the land of the lost it has disappeared to - and the One who knows where it is - aint tellin me!)

Real bummer -
I got some good Good Will deals and I can't even show 'em off!

Oh well;
simple solution - the charger will either turn up, or I'll buy another one.
Problem solved!

In the mean time; after all these posts I've been posting about life and my journey and so on and so forth - I've come out on the other side of it with a sense of peace that I hadn't really expected. I do a lot of journal writing, which has been a good tool for me and I think I want to dedicate this post to telling of some of the very practical steps that have propelled me down this road of recovery. I've entitled this post "overcoming insecurities" and since I myself have had to work through many of them; I can be rest assured that I'm not the only one.

So, some of the very practical nuts and bolts of this process I want to share. Maybe the information will be of use to someone else. Also, anyone else who has some things that have been helpful to them; is welcome to share too!

Personal World Views:
Now to put a little meat on this concept here. We've all heard the term "world view". It's been used in many contexts from "political" world views; to "social", "economic", "religious" - the list can be endless. The context I'm going to use it in here though is "personal world view".

The "personal world view" I'm defining here is the compilation of an individual's beliefs about the world around them and how they relate to it.

Of course we can see how all these other realms of "world view" can overlap each other and be Incorporated into an individual's "personal world view". This can get intricate and complicated and thus I'm not going to dive into all these different aspects. I just want to deal with "personal world view" as how self relates to world and how we interpret the messages we receive about ourselves from the world around us.

1. Do we trust everyone, do we trust no-one or do we fall somewhere between these two extremes?
2. What do we believe we are capable of accomplishing in this life - a little or a lot?
3. Do I think I'm smart, or do I think I'm stupid?
4. Do I like my life, or do I think I'm boring?
5. Do I think I'm likable? Do I like myself?
6. Do I think I'm lovable? Do my relationships reflect that?
7. Do I think I'm courageous? What do I think courage is?

These are examples of what may be contained in our "personal world view". Again, here's a case in point where the list can be endless. Often times we will wish to shape our "personal world view" on some system of philosophical or religious belief. Often times though, if really examined - we find our concepts of self are formulated by life experiences more than any external idea that may appeal to us. Not that it's impossible to adapt outside concepts that we may have not "grown up" into; (such as peace, joy, love, contentment, self esteem, confidence, acceptance, etc) but unless we clean out the "old junk" from our brains - it's hard to get the new ideas to take root and grow.

Here is where it gets complicated though; and where I've observed that some of our concepts of self really have nothing to do with philosophical or religious beliefs. Now I know there are some people who believe that you can't have a healing of the Psyche (so to speak) with out this religious system or that philosophical belief. Although I agree that our state of mental health is closely linked to Spirituality (i.e. belief in a good Deity); the stability of our minds isn't totally confined to any particular prescribed beliefs about God.

For example; there are many chemically addicted people who've been delivered from their compulsions regardless of their religious beliefs. This is true of physical recovery and things such as attainment of a good standing and "likableness" in society. Now, my conjectures here are based on things I've observed; of which the greater bulk of it rather confounds me. Coming from a belief that all good things come from God - it rather amazes me that He blesses people who don't even believe He exists! ((shrug) - I'll leave that for Him to figure out.)

Old Tapes:
Any how; I find that our beliefs of self in this world are often contained in messages (tapes) in our heads that we usually aren't even consciously aware of. Now of course this isn't a new idea. These are terms that were coined and have been used in psychiatry and social work circles for years. The "trick" so to speak, is to be able to deconstruct these "messages", listen to what we are telling ourselves and process through the decisions as to whether or not we want to continue to believe them. Now of course not all "tapes" are bad. The more "good tapes" we have; the more functional and secure we are.

Moving on from this point - we see the next most reasonable solution is to change the bad tapes. This is usually easier said than done; since the most pesky of negative messages are usually well entrenched as part of our system of beliefs about self in this world. Interestingly enough though, what I discovered was when I started pulling a few of these strings out; suddenly the whole system came unraveled. It was a revelation to me to see where my thoughts had led, and/or were leading me.

Now as far as "tools" that take one through this process; there are lots of them. 12 step programs have a 4th step inventory. Some religious organizations have discipleship groups. Some counseling centers or hospitals have programs that can be up to several weeks long. Most colleges have "self discovery" type courses. Than of course there's a slew of self-help books out there. Some of these tool are better put together than others, yet they all can be helpful if the individual is willing to put in the work.

One of these such "tools" that I'd found quite useful to me was a Dr. Phil book "Self Matters". It was well organized and easy to understand; although required a lot of writing and a lot of thought! Of all the practical steps I'd tried; the "Self Matters" book I got the most out of. I'd recommend it to any one.

Outside of that; another "tool" that's been very useful to me is journaling. Right now I journal probalby 2 to 3 times a week. I've been journaling since I was about 14 and now have a box of filled journals. Sometimes I go back and read some of them, but that's rare. I sort of see them as bygone thoughts now. Like time through the hourglass; they're "gone", unable to be "retrieved" and that's OK.

Another "tool" I used to decompress my thoughts is exercise. It's usually not something particularly rigorous (unless I'm really angry about something) but it often is of a duration that is sufficiently tiring. A good stretch of "decompression walking" for me is about 6 to 8 miles. On Rollerblades it's about 15 miles and cycling it's about 25. This is something I do 2 to 3 times a week. Helps me shake out the cob webs.

Results:
So yeah, we have all these "tools" we can try; but what's the outcome and do they really work? Well, I suppose the question of whether or not they really "work" depends on what one is expecting them to do? If we are expecting the tool to work, we're not going to accomplish much. We've got to work the tool. Mental health in a lot of ways is just like growing a garden or maintaining a business; it takes labor. Spirituality enters in the seeking of God's guidance to know which way to go and what to do next; but it's just like any other earthly healing process. It takes time and energy.

Note - (As to Christian doctrine - the maintenance of mental health, like physical health is not the same as salvation.)

As for me; what benefits have I gained in this process? I know myself better today than I ever have in the past. I have realistic views of what my gifts are and what they're not. I have attainable goals in life. I like my life. I like myself. I'm confident that I can find love in this world. I'm at peace with when dysfunctional relationships leave my life. I no longer fear abandonment. I no longer fear death; (that's a Spiritual thing though). I know I'm not crazy. I know I don't have a personality disorder. I can let go of the compulsion to please other people. I am sorry only for the wrongs I have committed; (I don't feel guilty if someone is angry at me when I've done nothing wrong.) I am OK with the fact that not everyone is going to like me. I have no unresolved regrets in my life. I have a well enough developed sense of self preservation to say no to destructive relationships. I have healthy boundaries. I'm confident that I could support myself and my child financially if I had to. I can take constructive criticism. I can say no to destructive criticism. I am creative. I am willing to learn new things. New information does not scare me. I have the freedom to change my mind when appropriate. I can acknowledge and admit when there are times that I am wrong. There is joy in my life. I feel blessed. I'm at peace with myself.

I'm Gone (You're the Someone I live for now!)

2009-09-03T13:47:00.000-07:00

I'm Gone
(lyric by Kelly Clarkson)

What you sees not what you get,
With you there's just no measurement,
No way to tell what's real from what isn't ..... there.

your eyes they sparkled that's all changed,
Into lies that drop like acid rain.
you washed away the best of me,
you don't care!

you know you did it, I'm gone
To find someone to live for in this world.
There's no light at the end of this tunnel tonight,
Just a bridge that I've got to burn.

you were wrong, if you think you could walk right through my door,
That is just so you, coming back when I finally moved on,
I'm already gone!

Sometimes shattered, never open,
Nothing matters when your broken,
That was me when ever I was with - you.

Always ending, always over,
Back and forth, up and down like a roller coaster,
I am breaking that habit today.

you know you did it I'm gone, to find someone to live for in this world
There's no light at the end of this tunnel tonight,
Just a bridge that I've got to burn!

you were wrong, if you think you could walk right though my door,
That is just so you, coming back when I finally moved on,
I'm already gone!

I'm gone!

I'd written the last post in a story format and will continue this one in that same story format. I've tossed around the idea of - just coming out and saying directly; (which I could) but I think I've written these this way, simply because what went on is just really hard for me to wrap my brain around! The dysfunction is insane; much more so than "typical alcoholism". I think it helps me to write, to have that mental separation so to speak. Maybe at one point I will be stronger not to need it - but for right now - this is where I'm at. I know it's not good to stay stuck in any one place; even so, for now it's O.K.

Raggedy Ann's legacy continues.

As I was growing up, and occasionally ventured outside of the toy box; I realized that there were many other dollies out there that were really different than me. They lived a life of feelings of relative safety. They never seemed to fear which toys may be watching with the intent of doing what ever harm may have been in their perverse wooden heads. There were other dollies though that it seemed did struggle as I did. Dollies that wore "that look" on their faces; that look I'd spot anywhere. That look of someone please - "deliver us from evil"!

When I hit that funny phase - somewhere between skipper dollie and barbie dollie; there was a whole lot of buzz in the playroom about what was going on in other toy boxes. Many dollies were coming out and telling "the toy box secrets". Stories of pain, fear, chaos, and sometimes horrific abuse. Some dollies were even being placed in other toy boxes; places they would be safe - sometimes even up until the point that they'd become big dollies. Deep inside me was a secret yearning that some how - some way - that would happen to me too. I'd find a home in a happier toy box; one where these secrets didn't happen.

In the bigger playroom world of "formal education"; I was inspired by those who'd dare let their secrets out of the toy box. I'd attended a dollie tea party at one of the Toy Maker's gathering spots where I'd heard dollies talking about this. Finally I got up the courage and the next day in school; I told someone!

I was terrified, but oh so relieved that it was finally out of the box. The dollies of the law didn't remove me, since what had once happened had stopped; or at least for me it had. I had to tell Nannie and Pooh and the dollie protectors from the law gave me a week to do this. If I couldn't, they would confront them on my behalf. This did eventually happen and Nannie was so mad at me. Much to my surprise though, the "golden toy" had no problem admitting what he'd done!

That particular day was very strange indeed. I sat in one corner of the toy box wrapped in all the dollie items I loved and that gave me comfort while Nannie consoled the "golden toy" with reassuring words that he wasn't some monster. I remember looking around at all my beloved things and wondering; why I was the one sitting in this corner all alone, when I wasn't the one who'd done anything wrong? The message even than was very clear; conform or be shut out!

I carried on until I was a big enough dollie to leave on my own and afterwards found out some pieces of the secret puzzle from Holly Hobbie. I told Holly my secret and she told me hers. She said she'd believed she'd been 16 years from newly coming to the toy box at the time of the incident she'd remembered. This caused me a great deal of anguish and I'd asked if she'd really remembered her age accurately. She'd originally said that she thought she had; but now wasn't sure? I'd counted back the years; for if she was remembering correctly, than this incident had happened to her at the point I'd told Nannie. Could that be? I wondered. Come to find out years later that apparently the "golden toy" was lying. He really wasn't sorry after all; maybe only sorry that he'd been caught? Yet - maybe not!

My life outside of the toy box went on; some of which was exciting, some terrifying, some terribly painful and some horribly lonely. I'd made one faithful friend though who'd forever walk this road with me, all the rest of my days in the playroom. It was the Toy Maker Himself and I'd learn from Him how to trust, how to love and how to follow His footprints. There were times I was so weak that He'd pick me up and carry me. As the years passed I'd come to adore Him, more than anyone or anything else in my playroom world. His warmth gives me "happy stuffing"!

The dreaded day I'd been mentally preparing for would finally come; the day Nannie would be taken away. I had high hopes for our toy box; hopes of healing, hopes of peace and security. Of course as it turns out; that didn't happen. I'd had my own baby doll for three months at the time Nannie was taken away. Holly Hobbie really wanted my baby doll; since she so sorely missed her own. When ever I'd see her, she'd scoop up my baby doll to play with and care for. She liked to hold him and change his close when ever he messed his drawers. The only thing she couldn't do was feed him; for her own lack of being able to make baby food. This made her very sad and upset every time my baby doll got hungry.

I knew she was hurting, yet her displaced anger so irritated me. Little did I realize though that I would be far more irritated when the "golden toy" started to voice his displeasure too. He'd stated that he was "uncomfortable" on account of what he'd done 20 years earlier. I took one look at him and said: "than you need to get your ass into a psychiatrist's office and you need to get it there now!" I wasn't going to hide in a corner every time I had a hungry baby doll. Again, I wasn't the one doing anything wrong!

That was the beginning of the end; as far as my involvement with the toy box went. I'd attempted to settle the issue once and for all with the aid of a third party. That was until the "golden toy" readily admitted to both myself and Pooh - as well as the third party; that he didn't believe there was anything wrong with what he'd done. Before I left the office that night; I knew I was truly finished with that toy box. I packed up what little was left of my sanity and walked out for good. As one final action of closure for myself, my baby doll and my own new toy box; I wrote the "golden toy" a letter. I told him that unless he sought professional help and took full responsibility for what he'd done; he would no longer be part of my life!

I held true on that promise to myself, my baby doll and my Toy Maker. The final string was cut when Winnie the Pooh himself went off to toy land. Pooh was having problems with his stuffing; so we all knew it was coming. I'd told Pooh that if he was ready to make his journey; I didn't have a problem with it and I wouldn't stand in his way. No one else was willing to let go of Pooh; but they had no control over that. The Toy Maker had drawn his number and his time was up!

On the day Pooh's final box was laid to rest; the toy soldiers came to thank him on behalf of our king. I insisted on this, on account of that I knew it was something Pooh wanted. Pooh had gone off with many other 'a brave bear, to defend the boarders of our rug at a time of grave peril in the playroom. At a time when our entire world stood on the brink of annihilation from Oppenheimer's deadly toys. The Toy Maker had stepped in again; (as He always does) and muzzled the tide of evil destruction. The red soldiers stood down and the entire playroom was spared. To speak of great miracles in the course of time! None of us in this play room are very smart - are we?

The "golden toy" had his own ideas of all this though. He wanted to stop the toy soldiers from coming on account of his own cowardice of me ripping his stuffing out! It never dawned on him though that he was not important enough for me to go to jail for. In his own eyes though, he was of the utmost importance; for he so badly believed that he was now to be the head of the toy box. He even told me this when he insisted he was to receive the flag the toy soldiers had brought on behalf of Pooh. He believed it to be his "mantle of authority". Needless to say; he almost dropped the flag in the mud when I was the one who presented it to him. To this day, I don't think he ever realized that the ceremony was about honoring those who came to serve; not those who came to be served!

Epilogue:

"Here ends my story in "parabolic formatting". You know, I've wondered if I should post anything else of this journey? Maybe? Maybe not? Here really ends one journey and begins another. The closing of one book and the opening of another! I heard a preacher about a week ago talk about forgiveness and letting go. His words have been settling in my brain ever since. Have I really forgiven? I think so. Looking back at it; I think I can honestly say that for right now, I'm at peace with it all. Yeah, I know that later on there may be more layers of this onion that surface again. Just for today though; there's a peace in my soul. I'm not sure I can explain it, but it's there.

I spoke to a sis on the phone the other day and come to realize that my life is really nothing but a compilation of Your graces. I could still be angry and count all the perceived points of Your failures in my life; but that's not how I see it any longer. Yeah, I endured years of sexual abuse, neglect and my mother's alcoholism; but You also gave me a dad who opened the box so I could get out the tools that I needed to protect myself. I'm also extremely grateful to You that dad was not a pervert! I see now where all these expressions of Your love had manifest themselves in my life! You really were there in the midst of my pain. You really did protect and sustain me and I'm glad I can see that now.

Also, I don't feel fragile any more. I sort of feel like igneous rock; You've carried me through the fire. (You've carried me through many fires.) No, I'm not so arrogant to think I'm invincible, indestructible, or even "strong"; but for the first time in my life I feel whole. You've given me wholeness. You've given me freedom and You've given me back the years the canker worm had eaten up.

Ya know I could sit here for hours and spill out all my verbal kisses; (getting a little personal here - I know) but the words would never be enough. We humans can babble on of Your power, justice, omniscience, greatness - etc etc etc; when really the greatest of these is Your love - for that is the essence of who (and what) You are!

Good Night Dear! (time for me to go to bed - yawn yawn)