National Day of Prayer

This year's theme is Psalms 91:2 "I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust."

What keeps going through my mind is:

"If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land." (2 Chronicles 7:14)

Fortunately, we can pray whatever our hearts desire and if it is His will, He will grant it:

1 John 5:
14. And this is the confidence that we have in him, that, if we ask any thing according to his will, he heareth us:
15. And if we know that he hear us, whatsoever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we desired of him.

Because of the disasters all over the world as well as in the U.S., my prayer this year is for the healing of our land, air, and waters. I pray also for liberty and justice for all people, everywhere.

And, yes, of course, that "I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust."

Matthew 18:19. Again I say unto you, That if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven.

For Veterans on Veterans Day

To all veterans of the armed forces of the United States of America -

Thank you so very much for your service to our country! I treasure the freedom that you fought and bled for, for each one of us Americans. I am often appalled at how women are treated in too many other countries and thank God for letting me be born here with people like you who believe in protecting us and preserving our freedom.

My prayers are with you.

Contemplating Boobquake

Over the past month, I've been contemplating the concept that women's immodest attire contributes to earthquakes and wondering how Muslim women got such power. Evidently, Western women don't have it as shown by the results of Boobquake.

The Iranian senior cleric, Kazem Sedighi, who first preached, "Many women who do not dress modestly ... lead young men astray, corrupt their chastity and spread adultery in society, which (consequently) increases earthquakes," later explained in a lame attempt to wipe out any notion of observable cause and effect for this first Boobquake that earthquakes didn't hit the immorality-filled Western world because God may be waiting for us to sin more so He can send us "to the bottom of Hell."

I'm laughing because Sedighi leaped from immodest attire to promiscuity to earthquakes, but is blind to how the promiscuity of the Western culture is the same as his Shia Islam religion's allowing polygamous marriage with up to four permanent wives PLUS multiple temporary wives.

The only differences between our version of promiscuity and Iran's Shia version, called Nikah al-Mut'ah in Arabic or sigheh in Persian, are the contract and that the concubines are paid an agreed-upon price, mahr, without which payment, the contract for a temporary marriage is void (Civil Code of the Islamic Republic of Iran, Articles 1075, 1076, and 1095).

At best, their promiscuity is legalized which doesn't make it less ungodly.

At worst, the temporary wives are legal prostitutes albeit for longer periods of time than the illegal prostitutes.

Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! At least, Western culture isn't so hypocritical as to go through the sham of instituting a legal code to support fornication.

The sad part is that the immodest attire to which Sedighi was referring is about the women who are letting some of their hair show by wearing a scarf instead of a hijab.

Yes, he calls them immodest because of their HAIR, that millions of women around the world for thousands of years have, without recrimination much less earthquakes, worn uncovered or partially covered as some Iranian women have started to do. How do extremists get so perverted?!

Ignoring Sedighi's later explanation of the reason Boobquake didn't have the expected result because I don't want to thump the Bible over his statement's gross inaccuracies, my question is, "Does the Qur'an say Muslim women must cover themselves completely when in public or is that something the extremist Islamic religious leaders made up?"

I'm asking because I read somewhere that the burqa and hijab are cultural, not religious, and that the veil applied only to Muhammad's wives because they were in close view of many strangers who visited the mosque next to their home; it was to provide privacy from prying eyes as they held a degree of celebrity status being wives of Muhammad like celebrities today wear hats, scarves, and sunglasses.

Also, I don't recall Hebrew women ever having to cover their faces nor completely hide their hair in the books I've read.

While I don't know the Qur'an, it's logical that if their god is the same God of the Jews and Christians as some people believe, the Qur'an would teach the same things as the Old and New Testaments: that we are imperfect, unable to follow each and every point in God's Law, sinners who need a Savior, and that Savior comes from the house of David.

What's scary is that the U.N. has given Iran a four-year (2011-2015) seat on the Commission on the Status of Women, which is "dedicated exclusively to gender equality and advancement of women."

HAH! Yes, Iran. The country that set a nearly impossible standard for proof of rape and severely punishes women for not being able to meet it with the result that most rapes are not reported.

Iran, the country which legal standards include "the testimony of two women is equal to that of one man" and "a woman has the right to divorce only if her husband signs a contract granting that right" even though a husband is "not required to cite a reason for divorcing his wife" and mandates that a man inherits twice that of a woman's share (Civil Code of the IRI, Articles 1133, 892-1, 899-1, 900-2, 906, 911, 913, 920, 923-925, 931-932, 935, and 938-948).

[NOTE: For the U.N. document at the following link, see page 27, section G, paragraph 82, and section H, paragraph 83. If the link doesn't work, verify that a cookie for un.org is allowed.]

Iran, the country that has a law allowing a father or paternal grandfather to make his 9-year-old girl marry any man he chooses upon payment of a sum of money (Civil Code of the IRI, Article 1041).

Iran, the country that prohibits executing a condemned female virgin but gets around it by having the condemned virgin, too often between the ages of only 9 to 17 years old, "married" to a prison guard on the eve of her execution for the purpose of legally raping her in the outrageous belief started by the Ayatollah Khomeini that rape prevents such a virgin from entering heaven and consigns her to hell.

Execution isn't punishment enough? They have to go to hell, too, as if anyone on earth has the power to designate who goes to hell? Doesn't the Qur'an say that only Allah knows who will go to heaven and who will go to hell?

(Spousal rape is not illegal in Iran because a wife is required by law to service her husband as he desires as long as she is able, i.e. if she's not menstruating, or he may deprive her of her bed, food, clothing, and shelter. It's how a husband can coerce his wife into submitting to rape - Civil Code of the IRI, Article 1108).

The U.N. is letting a hungry wolf guard the lambs.

What I learned from Sedighi is that he believes Islamic men are so weak, so unable to control their impulses and passions, that Islamic women have to cover themselves completely. I know it isn't true because there are many Muslim women in other countries who have adopted Western attire, the men around them are quite stable, and the earth beneath them isn't threatening to rumble with earthquakes like what is threatening Tehran.

Therefore, behind Sedighi's insult to Muslim men about their inability to control themselves is his goal to continue the subjugation, repression, and oppression of Irani women.

Think about it, if women's indecent attire causes earthquakes, it would be a simple matter for Iranian women to go outside, remove their hijabs, roll up their sleeves, raise their skirts to show their calves if they're comfortable going that far, stay clear of the falling walls, and take control after the earthquakes having proved irrefutably that they've got the power Sedighi says they have.

The problem with that idea is if earthquakes don't happen right away as I doubt they would, the participants are likely to be arrested.

Maybe what they could say is, "If you don't treat us right, we'll bring the walls down around your ears and then, you'll answer to us!"

God may do it for them, anyway, if the fault lines threatening Tehran somehow manage to kill the extremist Mullahs since the Bible has an example of an earthquake swallowing up the wicked (Numbers 16:28-33). And it didn't happen because of immodest attire, either!

(I need to report that Muslim men also have a dress code. Not as restricted as women as might be expected for that culture, men are supposed to be covered from their waists to below their knees.)

Indeed, after doing a word search, I can't say that women or men showing skin has any scriptural bearing on earthquakes.

Does that mean God doesn't disapprove of immodest attire?

Were Adam and Eve naked in the Garden of Eden?

Did Isaiah wear a thong?

To be fair to Mr. Sedighi, we need to acknowledge that Boobquake is an incomplete experiment because he said immodest attire leads to the corruption of men's chastity and adultery that then result in increased earthquakes.

Therefore, without a way to evaluate the effect of immodest attire on sexual misconduct and the effect of sexual misconduct on earthquakes, we'll never know which stance is correct, Sedighi's or the participants of Boobquake, if either.

Unfortunately for Mr. Sedighi, his perception of sexual misconduct is idiotic because it means only that the couples didn't bother with the sham of a temporary marriage that is so shallow it need consist merely of the couple agreeing on the length of time they will be together which may be extended or shortened as circumstances or desire dictates, their saying to each other "I marry you," and the payment of the mahr.

In conclusion, please pray for the people of Iran. The women, especially, need our support. Perhaps you'll feel led to additional means of support such as contacting the U.N. to protest Iran having a seat on the Commission on the Status of Women and demand that Iran be removed.

Isaiah 20:

1. In the year that Tartan came unto Ashdod, (when Sargon the king of Assyria sent him,) and fought against Ashdod, and took it;
2. At the same time spake the Lord by Isaiah the son of Amoz, saying, Go and loose the sackcloth from off thy loins, and put off thy shoe from thy foot. And he did so, walking naked and barefoot.
3. And the Lord said, Like as my servant Isaiah hath walked naked and barefoot three years for a sign and wonder upon Egypt and upon Ethiopia;
4. So shall the king of Assyria lead away the Egyptians prisoners, and the Ethiopians captives, young and old, naked and barefoot, even with their buttocks uncovered, to the shame of Egypt.

Pray for Haiti

I went back to Walmart yesterday to have the leaky tire fixed that I wrote about in my last post. On the way, I saw a man standing on a corner of a busy intersection holding up a cardboard sign that said, "Pray for Haiti."

It struck me as special because I've seen signs requesting work or rides or selling things and to "Remember the Vets" but never one requesting prayer, considering I'm living in the Bible Belt. I gave the man points in my mind for standing there on the behalf of the victims of the earthquake that hit Haiti on Tuesday.

Yes, if nothing else, please pray for Haiti.

(There was a small nail in my tire.)

Becky

Having an urge for ribs all week, I hopped down to the nearest supermarket yesterday to take advantage of the deli's Friday special on ribs.

Placing the ribs in my cart, I rolled it to the back of the store to see what was available on the other hot table before proceeding to pick up toothpaste, margarine, and raisin bread.

Not seeing my favorite cashier, I looked for the shortest check-out line, unloaded my groceries on the conveyor belt, and swiped my card while Becky, the cashier, scanned my purchases.

Bagging my bread and toothpaste in one bag, she put the ribs into a second bag and the hot vegetables into a third.

"That bag is ripped," I said indicating the bag holding the ribs.

Becky turned the bag to see the split and put the margarine into the bag with the container of hot vegetables.

"Please don't do that!"

Her hand froze and she looked at me.

"You're putting cold food next to hot," I explained. Unreal. Doesn't she know any better than that? The vegetables will have the margarine melted before I get home.

She moved the margarine to the bag with the bread and toothpaste. Then, she put the ribs into a new bag.

"$23.22," she said after totaling my bill.

I waited.

She waited.

"$23.22," she repeated.

"My screen says it's waiting on you," I replied, not used to having a cashier who doesn't pay attention to her screen.

"Did you swipe your card?" Becky asked.

"Yes."

She looked at her screen and pressed a button. "Debit or credit?"

"I pressed the credit button," I said, thinking she obviously wasn't paying attention to her screen again as I began picking up my bags.

As Becky handed me my receipt, the previous customer returned saying that she didn't get her change.

"I remember you handing me the receipt, but not the money and I can't find it anywhere," she said.

I did that a few months ago at Wal-Mart and had to wait until the next day for the cashier to finish her shift, close out her drawer and do her count before I was able to receive my money. I worried that it might be only my word against hers if the cashier decided to pocket my money for herself, but the Customer Service representative said they could also check the video tape to see if I was handed my cash back or not. I don't know if this supermarket has cameras everywhere like Wal-Mart does, so it might be more of a mess to fix.

I was glad it wasn't me.

I left the store, still incredulous that Becky put my margarine in with the hot vegetables. What was she thinking?

Was she thinking?

Upon reflection, remembering how she wasn't paying attention to her screen and that she may not have given the previous customer her change, I decided that Becky was distracted by something else going on in her life and is more in need of my prayers than my criticism.

I invite you to pray for her, too.

Bell's Palsy or Stroke?

The pizza arrived at 7:30 P.M. on the Wednesday before last. I relaxed, watching TV and sipping water until I had an urge for a box of vanilla milk shortly after midnight.

But the left side of my mouth couldn't close around the straw.

I started to freak. Had I had a stroke?

I checked myself to see what else was different and prayed, "Lord, did I have a stroke? What do I do? What is it?"

The answer came back, "Bell's Palsy," in that still, small voice within my spirit.

Wanting to make sure it wasn't a stroke, I got on the Internet. Everything I read at the Mayo Clinic, MedlinePlus, the Merck Manual, WebMD, and other sites Google gave me said to go to an emergency room immediately. Feeling a check in my spirit for that course of action, I continued to study the pages and was gradually reassured.

Men are the usual victims. I have no family history of stroke or heart disease. I'm younger than the typical age range of those women who did have a stroke. I've never been diagnosed with hypertension. Most of all, stroke affects the lower left part of the face and is usually accompanied by the left arm and/or left leg being affected as well, while Bell's Palsy affects an entire side of the face, only, from forehead down, and from nose to ear.

Wondering what might have caused it, I checked the web sites for Bell's Palsy before calling my chiropractor for an adjustment. Everything fit.

However, my D.C., said there wasn't anything he could adjust to fix Bell's Palsy and he wasn't about to adjust my neck, anyway, because he didn't know that it wasn't a stroke and didn't want to make it worse, if it was.

Fair enough.

On Monday, I called my regular M.D. for an appointment to get an official diagnosis for Bell's Palsy. However, because of him taking time off, his appointment book is full until Nov. 10. The nurse asked a series of questions and relayed them to the doctor. When his answer came back, it was that he'll see me on Nov. 10th and if I wanted to get checked out sooner, I may go to the walk-in clinic he named.

Off like a shot, I arrived at the walk-in clinic and was given a five-page intake form to complete that inconsiderate, partial idiots must have designed. For example, instead of allergies to medicines being filled in on page 1 where doctors like it for quick reference so they don't prescribe something that'll kill their patients, allergies were to be listed on page 2...and page 4.

What the...?!

Yes, allergies were to be listed on page 2 and listed again on page 4 with the reactions. If I had been smart, I would have reviewed all five pages before starting to complete the form so I could list them on page 4 that wanted more information about the allergies and enter "See page 4" on page 2. But I didn't have that foresight.

Returning the clipboard to the receptionist, she reviewed my pages. "You didn't do this section," she said about the two-inch square box I had left blank.

I didn't appreciate her tone of voice. Was she copping an attitude with me?

"I didn't understand it," I replied.

"It's your Family History." She read, "Father/Mother/Grandparents/ Brother/Sister..."

Yup, she had an attitude.

"I know that," I sniped back. "It's all those initials that I didn't understand."

"Oh!" She went on to interpret:

Heart disease.

(No.)

Stroke.

(No.)

Cancer.

(That must be the "CA" that I saw; the others still didn't make any sense to me.)

"You didn't sign this," she said in a better tone of voice, pointing to a signature block on the last page.

"Sorry, I don't sign for things I haven't received," I said.

She handed me a privacy policy statement and I signed, acknowledging receipt.

Sitting back down to wait, I couldn't get into "Judge Alex" on the TV although the case sounded really funny. What would Jesus do about this twit of a receptionist and the stupidly designed intake form? There are people who definitely should not be interfacing with the public and I don't subscribe to the "Turn the other cheek" philosophy because it's for a conquered people of which I am definitely not a member. Him raging in righteous anger seems more like it except flinging the receptionist's papers about and driving her out with a whip of cords (John 2:15) would be drastic overkill as well as get me arrested for assault.

One of my college professors who taught computer programming also functioned as a group therapist after hours. We had gotten close enough for her to invite me to Christmas dinner and one year she advised, "I can be angry and you can be angry, but it's a lot better for me if you're the one who's angry," as a way to deal with aggravating people.

Thinking about her advice, maybe I should have put the monkey on their backs by filling the Family History block with "NTIKOBIDUTFLAADKFWYL" ("None That I Know Of Because I Don't Understand The Freaky Little Abbreviations And Don't Know For What You're Looking") and let them sort it out.

Before I could calm down, the nurse called me in and took my blood pressure: 208/103.

The doctor saw me immediately.

After I explained what happened the week before and finished with what my doctor said that morning, the young East Indian doctor said, "You can't diagnose Bell's Palsy over the phone and with your high blood pressure, I'm concerned you may have had a stroke. I'm going to send you over to the county hospital emergency room and they'll do CT scans and an MRI..."

"To diagnose a stroke," I interjected having learned that from my research. You can't treat a stroke by yourself because it may be caused by either bleeding or a clot and incorrectly treating one will accelerate the other that actually caused the stroke and make things worse.

"No, to diagnose Bell's Palsy," she lied, not knowing that I already knew how Bell's Palsy is diagnosed.

I kept silent. I don't know what her background is, but she was sounding a lot like a couple of doctors who left the Canadian health care system to practice here in the U.S. who did nothing but prolong my pain some years ago. The first was a French Canadian orthopedic surgeon who ordered chest(!) X-rays when my hands suffered from carpal tunnel syndrome, a worker's comp case. I switched to another doctor, an American Chinese, as soon as I could.

The second was a few years after that, an English Canadian HMO (spit!) family practitioner who ordered three MRIs with a prescription for a narcotic when all I needed was a $35 chiropractic adjustment that I finally went and got for myself out of the network. After that, I immediately submitted paperwork to change to an American Hispanic doctor whom I'm still with although I'm no longer in an HMO.

The walk-in clinic doctor continued, "I'll call over so they'll expect you and we'll get an ambulance to take you there."

An ambulance to go two blocks? I don't think so! The one time I needed an ambulance, it cost me $400 and my PPO insurance didn't pay any of it.

"The problem with an ambulance is that I'll be over there and my car will be over here," I hedged.

"Do you have a friend that can get it for you?"

"No," I lied back at her. Bad form, I know, but expedient since I wasn't going to discuss my finances with her nor let her argue with me.

She had me sign a waiver for the ambulance and sent me on my way after making me promise to go straight to the emergency room. On my charge sheet, she had written "N/C" for no charge and "Bell's Palsy" for the diagnosis.

So, diagnosing Bell's Palsy needs CT scans and an MRI?

No, she had manipulated me because, my guess is, she didn't want me stroking out in her little clinic. At least, I didn't have to pay anything. I never did mention the receptionist nor the form.

At the hospital's triage station, I was relieved to see that their form was done right. Allergies to medicines right in front, up top. For complaint, I entered, "Referred by [name of walk-in clinic]: Bell's Palsy or stroke? High blood pressure."

I was seen right away. Blood pressure: 156/106.

After the doctor had me wrinkle my forehead and nose, smile and frown, check my eyes and ears, etc., he diagnosed Bell's Palsy, gave me a prescription, and instructed me to keep my appointment with my regular doctor on Nov. 10 for follow-up. No CT scans. No MRI.

Hah! Evidently, Bell's Palsy CAN be diagnosed over the phone if the right questions are asked.

About my blood pressure going over 200? "The 156 isn't alarming and blood pressure fluctuates, but you should discuss it with your doctor if you're worried about it," he said.

While waiting to get my prescription filled at Wal-Mart, I used the blood pressure check station that's next to the pharmacy: 149/85.

After I was done shopping, I checked again: 117/96.

Good.

As far as the Bell's Palsy goes, the cause is unknown. The facial nerve (Cranial nerve VII) passes through a tiny channel (facial canal) through the facial bone. The nerve gets inflamed which pinches it and causes paralysis on the side of the face where it is located. Most people recover spontaneously within a few days to six months. Some recover in a year. A few never recover. Corticosteroids such as Prednisone are believed to speed recovery.

The major concern is that without a full blink and not being able to close my eye (other people may not be able to open the affected eye), it may dehydrate and sustain permanent damage. My Rx included over-the-counter (OTC) eye drops for the day and an OTC ointment for while I sleep to ensure protection and hydration.

Living with it is inconvenient and awkward, but bearable as long as I don't have to talk too much since I can't enunciate as clearly as before.

The doctor also prescribed an eye patch to keep my eye closed while I sleep. The nurse recommended using paper tape instead. The nurse was right. The eye patch doesn't keep my eye closed although it does protect my eye from dust and other flying objects since I can't blink or close my eye to protect it while I'm out and about.

The moral of this story? At this point, I'm not really sure. All I can say is that I'm getting more prejudiced against non-American doctors who are practicing in the U.S. and know only that God doesn't lie.

Of that, I'm utterly convinced.

Fashion?!

Yesterday, a friend and I attended a light luncheon and fashion show put on by a local business women's club in the cafeteria of a local hospital. The clothing was provided by Dillard's, modeled by members of the club and their daughters as well as the club's scholarship recipients. The $25 tickets were a gift to my friend from her employer.

Since I've eaten there before, I was confident that the food would be good and the setting pleasant. Sure enough, the round tables with white tablecloths customarily used for banquets awaited us loaded with plates of salad, dessert, and sparkling goblets of iced tea and water at each place.

As expected, the food was delicious, so much better than I've had at other cafeterias, good enough for a decent restaurant. Two grilled steak strips topped the bed of freshly crisp rabbit food punctuated by rather large soft croutons with a bread stick along side. The dessert was a layered, flaky cream pastry topped by strawberries.

The accompanist was a man I had met in a local music store who had left a long time ago. The last I heard, he was the music minister for a local church. David joked with us as we were deciding where to sit saying that we'd have to pay him $2 for the privilege of sitting at the table closest to him.

The fashion show opened with a mother-daughter pair of unmatched black and white coats. The busy print on the mother's coat was large enough to tell it was houndstooth and small enough to be an instant headache. The black and white houndstooth on the girl's coat was larger and a relief to see but still too small to look good.

With that start, I was not eager to see the rest of the show.

As it turned out, the fashion show was a mixed bag leading me to hope that whoever put the show together isn't making fashion her career.

Some of the outfits were fine but the descriptions inappropriate. For example, a lovely pine green dress was described as emerald. Another dress, totally unsuitable for the office, modeled with stiletto-heeled, thigh-high leather boots was described as an outfit for the professional.

I leaned to my friend, "Professional what?"

What got to me were the separates that came across as totally uncoordinated and downright ugly. For example, while gray is a neutral, supposedly going with anything, gray slacks that were definitely cool in color temperature were topped with a print blouse and short jacket in light olive green, soft gold, rust, and other colors on the warm side of the color wheel resulting in the model looking like she was chopped in half at the waist. All I could think was, "Ugh." Why weren't warm neutrals such as khaki, tan, or brown used for the pants instead? Best, in my opinion, would have been pants in a darker olive.

Pleasantly surprising were the shoes that ranged from fun black and white lace-up tennies to slip-ons to boots to platforms with those really high "hooker" heels you just know that no woman will be able to stand or walk in comfortably for very long.

Between the categories of casual, business, party, and evening wear were dance performances by a group of teen girls. Seeing movements that were rather listless and sloppy except for their high kicks, I told myself not to be hard on their performance since they were only teens. Then, I remembered that high school cheerleaders look alive and put snap into their routines. Why can't these girls? Of course, they can. It must be their choreographer or whoever was coaching their practices who let them look like slouches.

The best part was the door prizes. I almost always pray to win something I can use and when I heard, "Now, we have a $50 gift certificate to [a local flower shop]..."

I thought, "No, Lord. I don't want that."

The name was pulled and the announcer finished, "...goes to Gail Rhea."

Puzzled, I accepted it with thanks and pondered how I might use it before its expiration date as the rest of the door prizes were awarded.

Near the end, the lady seated next to my other side won a small green cutting board and paring knife set by Pampered Chef that I instantly coveted. As we stood to leave, I ventured to ask, "By any chance, would you be willing to exchange door prizes with me? That shade of green is my cousin's wife's favorite color and I'd love to be able to give it to her."

I know that my gift certificate was worth much more than her prize, but it isn't always about monetary value, is it?

The real question is whether the set will make it into my cousin's Christmas box or if I'll end up keeping it for myself.

It's the perfect size for traveling.

A Reminder

Now that the elections are over, many are deeply disappointed or maybe even angry that their candidates lost while others are elated that their candidates won.

This reminder is for us Christians because whoever our leaders are, whether we agree with them or not, we are called to pray for them and all others in positions of authority:

1 Timothy 2:
1. I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men;
2. For kings, and for all that are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty.
3. For this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Saviour;
4. Who will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth.

That's what it was all about, wasn't it? Didn't we vote the way that we did because we want quiet and peaceable lives and thought the candidates for whom we voted had the better ideas for our getting them? Or maybe we voted the way that we did because we're so soft and desperate to reach the pie in the sky that we have to have the easy way out no matter what it costs us over the long term.

Personally, I'm not so sure about the godliness and honesty part because I know enough "Christians" who don't read their Bibles, preferring to follow the popular speaker of the year who usually says what sounds good, perverting the message of the Bible. They're not godly or honest because they don't want to take responsibility for what they believe. They're not real Christians because the word "Christian" means "a follower of Christ" (Acts 11:26). However, it's possible that they're baby Christians who simply don't know any better. For the others who aren't newly born-again, since listening to false leaders is a lot easier, that's what they do. They let the deceivers mute their consciousnesses and feed their greediness for personal gain instead of heeding good leaders who encourage us to pray and know the Word for ourselves, as Christ did, as they do themselves.

In Memory and in Honor

Above all other days, today especially is the day to remember and honor all who died or were injured because of the attacks on September 11, 2001. Please pray for the families and friends who still suffer from the loss of their loved ones as well as for the survivors.

Please remember in prayer and honor, also, those who continue to fight for cherished freedom everywhere.

Living My Dream

It hit me on Sunday. I'm living my dream come true.

I've been so busy, adding this blog to my busy-ness, that it didn't occur to me earlier.

Sparing you the details, two doctors told me in the latter part of 1992 that I had to find another line of work. After discussing it with my immediate circle as well as with counselors, after considering what I might do, with or without additional training or education, only my desire called out to God: All I want to do is write.

The year 1992 passed into 1993. I wasn't able to work for a year and was limited in my capabilities when I returned to the office. Continued pain and additional therapy filled my thoughts and my days, months, even years. I thought I'd never see the end of it although I tried to keep smiling. I was, and still am, so grateful for anyone who was kind to me and everyone who made me laugh.

Then, it happened. I was free to concentrate on my writing and forgot the rest. That's what dreams do. They take you away from real life to another world, another place, another time, another life, until you see how dreams and real life are interrelated. Until you're able to realize, as I did on Sunday, that real life is the dream and how much God has blessed us.

Psalms 34:8. O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him.

Lamentations 3:25. The Lord is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him.

Psalms 100:5. For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.

Thank You, Lord!

Welcome Aboard!

I'm not normally a jealous person, but when my friend Roxie started blogging, I felt tendrils of green sprouting within me.

You see, I considered starting a blog when they first became popular several years ago and many times since, but some things are best kept to oneself and other people are much better at blowing whistles at businesses and politicians and keeping up with current events than I am.

As for the rest, basically my life is too boring for words unless I'm traveling. When I'm not traveling, about all I do is research, work on my writing, and fly kites. I enjoy hiking, too, except when it's too cold for me, too hot, under thunderstorm skies, or during allergy season which, considering where I live, pretty well covers the entire year.

So, there I was watching TV the other evening when the lightbulb went on: I can blog my "Sound Off!" pieces - my raves, rants, and ramblings that need their own platform. I did a few previously through email to friends, starting with the worldwide Millennium celebration that was held an entire year too early (as if the general public starts counting from zero the same as OS programmers do!), and can continue by blogging whatever strikes my fancy in the future. Please be forewarned, however, because of the nature of the beast, rants are more likely to be forthcoming than are raves or ramblings. If you are offended:

(a) please accept my deepest apology, or

(b) that's just too bad although you might be comforted by the fact that it's the least you'll suffer for ticking me off because I'll be praying for you to receive the light of Christ and only God knows how He'll answer that prayer or what else I'll be motivated to do. Although I've yet to be motivated to do anything more drastic than complain or write letters of complaint to the Powers That Be in your miserable life to get them to hold you accountable for doing to me as you did, you never know. Therefore, don't push me or you may very well find yourself banging your head against a brick wall and bleeding from the injury you caused to yourself.

Nevertheless, I hope you are entertained and amused as well as get your thoughts provoked from time to time.

Welcome aboard!