Jude Stringfellow's Blog, page 90

Who Do You Trust?

 My daughter was flim-flammed the other day, and her words to me were so very typical of someone who has been burned by someone or some entity that the person trusted would never harm them. She said, "Mom, I trusted them, I really thought they had my best interest at heart, and look, they lied to me. They stole from me, they took what was mine! They said they owned it. It's MINE."  I hurt for her. I knew all too well the stabbing agony she was going through because, just like her, and probably a million others in the community closest to us, and millions more beyond that, people lie to get what they want from us. We either have to sign a contract for security, or we have to sign one for financial gain; but there comes a time in most of our adult lives that we are held to a written agreement of some sort, and yes, they are usually written to work out for the better or best of the OTHER guy, not you.

    For me it was a book deal.  For my daughter it was a music deal.  For my best friend in high school it was polarized glass! My friend was the one who came up with the general concept, and he let his dad talk him into talking about it for investment purposes with guys his dad fully trusted. Well, you don't see my buddy's name on the patent! My book deal was and is still pretty raw.  I sold the rights to one of my books to a major publisher in China who SWORE up and down that it hadn't sold anything really, therefore they didn't need to pay me more than just the pennies on the dollar type payment I received for the initial 10,000 printed agreement.  I found out about two years later that more than three more prints were produced, so that's at least 30,000 more books, and it was understood by my contacts in China that it was a lot closer to 100,000 copies; wow. I have (to this day) not been paid for more than a few copies. My daughter's music has been played in Japan over and over again without her seeing a penny in royalties and nope, there's nothing that can be done. We would literally have to hire an international attorney to even investigate.

    Why am I lamenting over all of this? Well, it just so happens that another music friend of mine is going through this with his music now.  He was hired to sing, not to think. That's what they told him anyway. He was paid to do it their way, not his way. He was given every opportunity to say no to their contractual editing and modifications they told him, except each and every time he complained they threw legalese language at him, threatened to force him to pay back his advance, and then threatened him again with whatever they thought they could get away with when he asked them to show him proof that his EP (shorter than an LP) was not doing as well as expected. People told him online how much they loved it. He could see on Spotify that it was making waves, but no money was hitting the bank! What gives, he wanted to know, and they told him to shut up and take it. Basically they told him that if he continued to ask they would drop him from their label and he would owe them for the advertising and the marketing they put into this "flop" of an EP.  (Psst....if it's a flop why are they still advertising it on their site? Why not cut bait?)  Yeah, they lied.

    Who do we trust? Who CAN we trust? Who should we trust? Those with money have a way of making money. Those with dreams have a way of dreaming about making money.  The music industry seems to be a bit more aggressive with their openness to be dishonest I think. The label my buddy is with has a history and/or a pattern of hiring a bunch of would-be artists and telling them (selling them) how great they are now, how they could be better if they just write with THEIR artists (this is a ploy to get you to give up your rights, because if they have artists who are on their payrolls writing with you, it's not really your work anymore, is it?) They tell you you're going to make it big. They pay you enough to keep you interested, or enough that you can't readily pay it back if you quit or decide it's not working out. They hire those who are not wealthy. They hire those who need their initial start up funding to make it; again, so they have their creepy little jagged hooks in you and whatever you did before that caught their attention is now theirs to exploit, sell, promote and own...did I mention they let you wear their clothes too? They'll even buy you nice things to wear so long as you understand that if you leave you have to pay for that too - - am I striking a chord? 

    If it wasn't so sad it would be laughable. I know it sounds really arrogant of me to say this, but I once told Oprah Winfrey no, I wouldn't show up and be on her show to talk about my dog since her people lied to me about promoting my new book on the show! I was supposed to go on air, not my daughter. I was supposed to discuss my new book. They called a DAY before the show was to be filmed in studio to say there had been a change, and that due to the many other guests they didn't or wouldn't have time to talk about my book - - no thank you. A promise is a promise. I let my daughters fly to Chicago with the dog, and I let Laura talk to Oprah. She's not that impressive to me if she can't keep her own people in line.  I may be a peon, but this peon has her standards. I won't be used.

    It happens! Poop happens!  People happen!  People are the worst!  You'll never see a dog or a cat (or even a pig) betray another animal the way we harm and deceive one another. You'll never experience the back-stabbing and to-the-face lies that we humans (married couples come to mind) when we say we'll love you forever, and then have affairs. We say we'll only love you, and then cheat. Well, don't get me started on human-on-human deceit. We'll be here for a very very long time. Suffice it to say, we can't trust too many people and there's a reason for it. I like to say God gave me a brain to think with and a heart to love with. Contracts don't need my heartbeat -- they need my thinking cap! Do yourself a favor and promote yourself if you want to keep your work. You may not end up rich and famous, but you'll keep your work, and you'll own what is truly yours. I don't know, maybe you want to be rich and famous, and your work doesn't really matter to you - - that's you, not me. I won't be fooled again -- and I don't think my kid will either. Nope. She's learning. 

Photo Credit:  Auhoky

I Found a Pearl

 The Gospel of Matthew (13:46) tells us that ..."Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking goodly pearls: Who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it."  Why is that? Why would the Kingdom of Heaven be like a priceless and perfect pearl? Why would God have Matthew record the words of our Lord Jesus if it wasn't true? It must be true.  I think of Heaven all the time, but I really never think of it in terms of the priceless pearl except to think or say that there is nothing like it. Nothing can compare to it. There is nothing we can do to earn it, and we certainly couldn't sell off all of our property to gain access to it.  I think what the Gospel is saying (and it's just my opinion) is that Heaven is the Kingdom of God, and we will be there, we will enjoy it, we will be like that pearl; which is to say to God we are valuable.

    I found a pearl too.  It's not the same thing as saying I found the secret to success, or that I found the fountain of youth. It's not to say that I found the best trade in the market and it's going to make me so rich that I could do anything I want from now on; it is only to say that I believe I have found something worth a great deal more than what others may think it is worth. I think of it and I know I could never have it, own it, or call it mine, but I found it. It was right out in the open too. Everyone else sees it, they may think like I do; I don't know. What I know is I am thrilled to the core that God has shown me that He makes things that others find to be ordinary, and He calls them wonderful.

    Do you know how a pearl is made? When the merchant in Matthew found the pearl described, he wasn't in the sea fishing for oysters, he was more than likely at the market place and there the pearl was on display. Perhaps the owner of the pearl was unaware of the enormous value of the piece of overworked dirt that was in his possession. Perhaps the owner didn't have an eye for such grace, such beauty, such worthiness; perhaps the pearl wasn't glittering or even shiny? Perhaps the merchant saw through the sediment and the nacre (the lining of the shell by which a foreign object, usually a mineral or particle is made into a solid and ornate pearl) to see the true shape of what appeared to be something too fantastic to leave.  He would have never forgiven himself if he had not given his utmost to obtain it.

    An oyster literally lives under dirty sea water in the silt and filth.  An oyster is alive with a brain, a heart, sinew. It has pieces and parts and its abductor, stomach muscles, and lining of the animal inside of the shell produces a solid matter just from trying to fight off the intruding mineral that has crept in somehow through the tight tight closing of the shelly encasement. It's a miracle really, not like birth exactly, but by nature - - by God. I wonder who the first person to discover that oysters made pearls was, and if that person realized that they were in deed worth keeping or holding onto if only to gaze upon their refinement. Certainly someone had to begin collecting them, cleaning them, sizing them, measuring them, deciding which ones were worth trading and which ones were worth savoring. Who makes these decisions? We do.

    We see things that attract us in some way or another, and we decide that they are worth holding onto, helping, being with, assisting, being connected to, or just observing. We decide these things for ourselves, perhaps with the help of others at times, but sometimes we just know when something or someone is worth giving a bit more effort. Others may stare blankly at us and think we've gone off our rockers, that we can't possibly know what value is or what good must be. Still, in our soul and in our way we think we're right and we give our attention to whatever it is that we find exemplary. It is what it is, and we are who we are. Diversity is good.

    Think about it: a pearl was first useless to most, just a little piece of dirt really. Because it made its way into a form of shelter to get away from the increasingly unpredictable surroundings, it was attacked again by the very creature it sought refuge with, and through time and pressure, suffering and God's divine intervention, that piece of muck developed into something astonishing; but not overnight. It also didn't suddenly appear nice and shiny, round, and perfect either. After the pearl is found it goes through another entire process to become the great jewel of the sea that it is -- life is like that. One stage after another, and often times the best things are never even discovered by man, but only known to God. God sees it all. Nothing goes unnoticed really.

    I found a pearl. I won't sell everything to obtain it. I won't show it off to the world because it isn't mine to show but I will thank God every single day for the opportunity to know I know what I know and I hope the world sees what I see too. Some do. 

Photo Credit: Etsy 

    

Battling Ropes!

 I must be on some kind of writing roll - - I'm finding myself clicking away at the keyboard these past few days. I don't mind. I have a lot of extra time on my hands. You'd have to know the situation, and I'll explain it soon enough, but for now, let it suffice to know that I am at home, studying for the Securities Industry Series tests, and when I'm finished with them I'll be a real live Swing Trader.  Day Traders trade multiple times in a day, hence the name, and Swing Traders trade fewer times with a bit more research and time behind each trade. It typically works out to being about 3x a week; give or take.  HOWEVER, studying common stocks, puts, calls, and debentures have little or nothing to do with my newest passion, the battle rope!  Yes, you heard me, (read me) correctly, I'm picking up the heavy ropes and tossing them around.

    Heavy ropes, Naval ropes, battle ropes, you can call them whatever you want, but you've seen them and passed by them a 1000 times at the gym.  You either thought to yourself that you just couldn't get into it, or maybe you knew what they were for and thought it was just not worth it to give it a go - - but you now know, because I'm here to tell you, they are so very very worth it. Pick them up and give them a swing. You can't really get anything out of them if you just tug on them, you have to lift your arms way above your head and throw them down either using one arm at at time or both at the same time. There are about 10-12 different exercises you can do for a full body workout when you're grasping tightly to a pair of old battle ropes. You want the old ropes too, by the way, they've been broken in and move better than the newer stiffer ropes. I mean, I guess I'm getting ahead of myself, but there are times when looser is better; just sayin'.

    What you want to do is, (do I sound like my son yet?) you want to grab ahold of each end of the ropes, one in each hand. The end of these ropes should have a mass of tape around them to give you a good grip to hold onto.  You want to grab them, pull yourself out to the length of the ropes, they should be at least 15 feet long, and you want to start lightly shaking the ropes in a "hump a second" motion so that you're creating a hump each second. You can do this with one arm at a time, or you can do it with both of your arms at the same time. You want to keep the ropes going and about at chest level. Do this for about 45-60 seconds. Congratulations, you passed the first test.  Move forward to the 2nd test.

    The 2nd test is the over the head test. You raise both hands (still gripping the ropes, you don't really ever let go, so I'm going to stop telling you to hold on to them, you can figure that part out for yourself) and you throw the ropes down hard so that they smack the ground. You repeat this about a 100 times or as many times as you can in the next 45-60 seconds, and there you go, you passed the 2nd test. Good job! Let's make it three!  One arm at a time do the hump a second movement, but squat with your butt as you do this, and you don't have to go all the way down, just a few inches, and you keep the motion going. You're going up and down, the ropes are humping every second, and there you go 45-60 seconds later, you're dead to the world but you realize that even though you're an animal, and you've passed the 3rd test, there are so many more to go. Suck it up buttercup! You have work to do.

    The 4th variation is the side to side swing. Again, at chest level, move the left rope to the right and the right rope to the left, crossing each other, and then do it again and again and again, 45-60 seconds, and rest.  Rest about 10 seconds between the tests and think about your strategy for the next round. If you're up to it, get back in there and try pulling both hands to the right, swing the rope upward into a bow, and over to the left. If you didn't hurt yourself, do it the other direction, keep doing that until you realize that you're about to fall over, and it may be best to try and bring the ropes down a few inches so as not to slam them into your face...never a good look.

    I typically watch the guy at the gym do his routine before I attempt to do mine. There are a few reasons for this.  One, he's a good looking bearded man and I like watching his muscles flex, two, he seemingly has this routine down to a science, and I can know he'll be off the ropes in a few minutes. Three, he's a good looking bearded man with muscles and ... wait, I already said that. Anyway, he can teach me a thing or two about rope training and I don't have to seem like a damsel in distress. I just sit by the rope stand, maybe do a few stretches to look like I'm not looking, and I look. He may or may not realize he's teaching me, he may or may not care, but it's a good mind workout before my arms, chest, back, thighs and butt decide to leave me on a permanent basis for having subjected them to another form of muscular torture. The mind is good, it can be worked over a few extra minutes, no worries there.

    So there you have it, I mean, there's more to it, and more things you can do with the ropes. You can even climb the damn things if you're into that (knots help, I'm told.) I think I'll keep my ropes at arms length for now, and not try to be too charismatic about it. I'm at the beginning stages of this new self affliction mechanism; once I get the hang of it, I'll video - - maybe.  Once I lose all the weight I want, have the thighs bulging just so, the boobs standing at attention, and the belly flatter than flat, I'll video. I promise you, the world will see it when it happens. Until that day, battle rope away. (don't forget to box, punch, dance, jump rope, stretch, ride your bike, walk, hike, climb, and do your yoga!!) 

Boom! This is gonna be good. 

    

Photo Credit: Hyperwear

A Bloody Rose - A Poem. Repost

 Bloody Rose

At times the world—a carnival

With whirling ways and smiles

At times the stage—a darkened edge

Revealing thorns

Our lives

Too often times the tenderness

Flows slow to warm my face

Damp crystals of the evening

Stain deep to leave no trace

And many times I wonder why

I ever said hello

Before that day I had my way

Budding as the rose

A magic time—a shining light

A dream to you, no meaning

As time will tell, I felt it real

I know the pain I’m feeling

Mixing tears and simple smiles

I laugh to hear my praying

A bloody rose I seem to hold

And yet—

My heart is staying

To let it go would be the best

To heal my wound forever

My bleeding heart—a tender rose

A clinched fist protects it

- Jude Stringfellow (1977)

Photo Credit: unknown

Freakin' LOVE Tea.

 Yep, it is so so so so true, I love tea.  I think I became interested in it because my "Auntie" Eileen (yes, she was a transplant from London) was our neighbor in Bethany, Oklahoma. I think her husband Ron was an engineer back in England and he put in an application to become one here in the states. He thought about moving to Texas, he once told me, but Oklahoma seemed smaller, more apt to welcome a newcomer, and he had enjoyed the Rogers and Hammerstein musical "Oklahoma!" just a couple of years before putting his traveling shoes on; Eileen was a dream to me. (I mean, she wasn't Scottish, which would have made her nearly perfect, but she was really adorable)

    With her authentic British accent, her stories about "home" and her travels to the neighboring countries, I couldn't get enough of her. Back in the 60s a kid didn't dare come into the dining room when Mom was entertaining, but with Eileen it was different.  She had three kids, Mom had 4.  One of hers was a bit younger than me, so Eileen often held her. Her name is Laurie, and I remember being allowed into the dining and kitchen areas if Laurie was there.  We ate "biscuits" (cookies) and we drank real lemon tea. My Auntie would bring loose leaf teas over to my house and Mom would boil water, pour it over the tea in a kettle and add freshly squeezed lemon to it.  I even saw her pick a mint from outside and add it to the top of her cup a few times. That was what it took! I was HOOKED.

    From mint and lemon teas I began to branch out and find the aisles at the grocery stores that offered both loose and bag teas. Mom would use bags, but Auntie would scold her for doing so.  Mom would tease my Aunt to say that she was now living in America, she had to learn to be and act like an American even when it came to tea time. I can still hear the cackling and the giggling on that one. There would be no compromise with tea!  I preferred the "new" English way as well, although we all know that we Americans have only been drinking tea a little over two and half centuries. We have very little experience really, and we should only and always listen to our British, Scottish, and Irish friends when it comes to both the methods of brewing and the process of serving tea. We'd do well if we did.

    After many many more years of doing research and practicing on my own, I can tell you that I have only scratched the surface of knowing what it is to be a real tea connoisseur I have NO idea what I'm doing, but I do know what I like.  I like loose tea, I like fresh lemons and oranges squeezed into my tea or infused with a press. I like actual thyme, actual parsley, actual sage, and actual rosemary in my tea, and I love adding ginger, ginseng, and even cinnamon now and again. You just never know what I'll come up with, but you can bet I will be coming up with something. There are teas to help you focus, teas to help your heart, teas to bring a quick wink to your spirit, and even a few teas to bring about a good old fashioned "Oklahoma Hello!" (from the musical) and you don't what that is, you haven't been alive long enough. ("I'm just a girl who can't say no, kissin's my favorite thing!") 

    In my cupboard (not my cabinet) you will find about 14 different boxes of loose tea. You'll see my collection of H&S (Harney & Sons) teas; blackcurrant, raspberry, Earl Grey, and Scottish Morning teas being my favourite, but I also love the occasional Yellow & Blue (a lavender blend); along with a zesty best lemongrass. Yes, I have been known to buy a strong gunpowder tea as well, and for those days I tend to need a thick quilt and a warm dog.  Tea is just ... awesome.  I keep a jar with packs (bags) of tea that are either given to me, purchased by my daughter, or just somehow make it up into my cupboard. I don't want the bags to feel that they have the right to rest with my loose tea. That will simply not do. I will allow the sachets to remain in close proximity of my loose, but never a BAG! God forbid. (smiles for Auntie Eileen)

    Today I ventured into the curious arena of Pinterest to see what methods or blends I could create from what I had in my cupboard. For energy, anti-inflammatory, respiratory relief as well as overall good health, I decided on a Thyme based blend with a bit of ginseng, ginger root, orange, lemon, and parsley.  My press is always (always) on the ready, washed and happy to serve.  I think I've consumed about six cups of it so far, and expect to make a few more before I retire. I should stop adding the ginseng since I will eventually want to go to sleep -- maybe throw in that lavender blend in a few minutes to let it steep and call me to slumber. I do, and I mean, I DO love my tea.  I won't let it replace my first cup of coffee when I wake up, no, that won't ever happen, but I do love me some hot tea.

    Sighs that sigh she sighs when she  begins to dream of the day she returns to Edinburgh to drink another cup at the Wee Cafe....it will happen. It will happen.

    

Photo Credit:  Harney & Sons

Prayer. Why?

 Have you ever just asked yourself why it is that you find yourself praying? (I am, of course, making a large and rather broad assumption at this point.) People pray for the strangest of things really, and I'm probably not any different in the sense that what I pray for on a daily basis makes no (common) sense to most; when they know me, and know what it is (or rather who) I pray for. Nope. It's not logical whatsoever, there's just something out there making it happen, and believe me when I say I've asked myself a 1000 times why, and I've asked God that many times too.  He's used to me asking Him silly questions. I know  I should just stop the belly-aching and head back to the closet with my rock and my dog. I know it, He knows it, there doesn't need to be a rhyme. There doesn't need to be a reason. I have an assignment, and God knows (God knows) I will always do what I'm told to do if I'm told to do so by Him. It is what it is.

    Prayers go up and they stay up. Prayers don't come back down. It doesn't work that way. That blows the old saying out of the water I guess; the saying "What goes up must come down" does not apply to prayers. When we pray the Bible tells us that God hears us; He doesn't send the prayer back through prayer-mail and ask us to resend it, it finds His address every single time we sincerely praise or ask for something. I found a verse the other day that mentioned not saying a bunch of words to God when in prayer because it's not necessary and the amount of words we use isn't what makes the prayer a "good" prayer. What makes the prayers real and genuine is the love and sincerity behind it, inside of it, the fact that we mean it means something to God. It's not that He doesn't have time for the extra words, they just aren't needed.

    What would cause a person to take the time and make the effort to pray each and every day for the same person? Oh, I know, maybe it's because I gave birth to that person! Yeah, that's it. I gave birth, I'm the mom, and he is my son, and she is my daughter, and the other she is my other daughter, and then there's the grandbabies, I pray for them on a daily basis too so -- yeah -- but that didn't answer the question did it? WHAT would cause a person to take the time and make the effort to pray for someone on a daily basis? The answer must be and can only be love.  So, if that's the case then why am I finding myself on a daily basis praying for someone who I didn't give birth to, who I haven't met, how isn't that fun to pray for because he doesn't really appreciate or hold me in the best esteem.  He doesn't even like me. He finds me to be annoying in fact, and I guess I can be. (OK, I have to say this, he can be really annoying too with his lack of appreciation, lack of esteem for me, and lack of understanding that I don't have a choice in this matter -- if he wasn't so HIM...in need of prayers... I wouldn't have to be in my prayer closet every day would I?) If he could only understand that even if I don't want to put in the effort, I don't have a choice in the matter. Then again, his understanding of that fact doesn't really come into play. 

    What is prayer? Why is it important to God? Why would I be asked to pray for someone who I don't know? Could it be because... THAT? Because I don't know him the prayer is actually more genuine? Because I don't have a dog in this fight, he is not my pig and not on my farm.  He is not my monkey and not in my circus...so what is it God wants from me? I know the answer; He wants obedience. It's easy to pray for someone you love. It's easy to pray for someone who means something to you. It's easy to pray for someone who you believe in, and want to see succeed. God never said prayer was supposed to be easy. We're just supposed to do it, and do it without ceasing, without stopping. If I stopped praying for this man today I have NO IDEA what could happen to him -- and that bothers me. It really truly, actually, genuinely bothers me.  Maybe I do love him. Maybe I do care. Maybe I do want him to succeed? God has a funny way of bringing about His will through our obedience to  Him. 

    There's another reason too; one I'm not ashamed to say out loud. I want my blessing! I want my personal blessing. I want the desires of MY HEART; and these things are promised to me in Psalms 37:4 by my God, the one and only Creator, Maker. I Am.  He said if I (me) trust Him and commit my way to Him, and do what HE told me to do, if I delight in this work, then HE will give ME the desires of MY heart. I want those desires. I want my blessing more, much more, than I want to stop praying for this wonderful and otherwise unrelated person. I have NO IDEA what God wants from my prayers for this man. I have NO IDEA why I'm still asked to intercede for him. I wish I knew. It would make things so much easier to just KNOW....but that's not the assignment and it's not for me to know. It is for me to do. I will do. I want my promises. I will do. I want my desires. I will do. I want my God to smile and be happy with me. I will always do. 

    The WHY does not matter. Why shouldn't matter. Why can't matter. What matters is....well, doing. So I do. I won't stop doing either. I'm just one of those really annoying, stubborn women who think the best way to please God is to do what He asks no matter what I may personally feel or think about it. Why can't and won't matter; not when I know the answer is to just not stop. 

Photo Credit: NBC News

SAM!! (Theonopholous) A Repost from 2007.

 Call it what you want, say I'm a bit odd - it's OK, I'm used to it by now. When I was just a kid people said it all the time, and it really hasn't changed much since. It used to bother me a bit, but after a while I realized that if everyone is talking about me - about me talking to my angel Sam, they're either damn jealous that their personal guardian doesn't talk to them, or else, and this is sad - they don't have one.

I met Sam in Heaven actually, way before I was born and way before I was even being considered an add on to the Stringfellow household. I don't remember much about it, as humans we're limited in our before time thoughts, but you know it has to be true - that is if we accept that Heaven is, and that time really isn't all that permanent. I don't know the circumstances of our relationship, how it began, or where exactly we met - but I do know that he's been with me since the very very beginning. My thoughts basically are this: I was born, I knew he was with me, and when I gave my soul to Jesus he was the first to be excited because it meant that the soul he had been assigned to was returning.

Being a Christian isn't about easy 1-2-3 steps of becoming saved and doing good - it's far more than that, and if you believe as I do that souls were living before our earthly (attached) bodies - then it becomes a bit more clear as to how this whole friendship works. Sam is mine. He was assigned to me. He has NO other job. NO other employment. He is my Guardian. I love him for it actually, he's a good one. I named him Sam, God named him something else. I knew this before, but after becoming a human, and being so very young (5 1/2) at the time that I surrendered fully my soul - I simply began calling him by the name I felt was best - Sam.

When I was about 30, sleeping, and really just communing with my friend, he appeared to me fully (very fully, and vastly strong) in a lucid and most beautifully vivid dream. He said to me "Judy, (as he calls me what my mom calls me) my given name is Theonopholous." I thought about it, nodded my head, and continued my conversation - whatever it was..I don't really remember. I do however, remember that I had not been paying the least bit of attention to his size, majesty, grace, or astounding beauty. Sam (Theonopholous) is somewhere between 12 and 15 feet tall. His biceps are larger than my thighs, and his color, his all-around color is stark white. Not pale or weak - no, but marble strong white. He has wings, thick, wide, bright lights really - I've never seen him use them, but merely appears and reappears, he never disappears. Does that make sense? Probably not, but he does. He's one helluva guardian too mind you! I never give him enough credit, not only for holding me back, but for shutting my mouth! Seriously...HE will shut my mouth at times when I would have opened it and caused a fair amount of damage.

I can recall, and often do, some of the times he has literally saved my life. We all have had near-death experiences, and this is something that guardians do. They watch. They protect. Call them the bodyguards if you must, but it really is more of a soul guarding going on. On June 16, 1986 he held me tight in my bed while my house was being robbed - I knew the men were in my home. I could feel, hear, even smell them - my only thoughts were for my infant son Reuben who was just down the hall. There was absolutely NO way to get to him before they could..I cried silently and tried to raise my body to protect him. Sam would NOT allow me to go - instead a wave of warmth overcame my heart and I knew my son would be protected (hidden even) from the men inside my house. Cabinets were opened, drawers fell to the ground, my purse taken, my television thrown to the ground when it proved too heavy to take. I waited, I continued to cry and pray that my son would be safe...I could not move. What I could see was a thin bright light around my head. I wondered if the men could see it's brilliance. Obviously not.

When the door slammed and the men's voices trailed from the window just outside my bedroom I was released by Sam to run down the long hall to my son's room. The illuminated digital clock read 1:13 A.M. I had been in my bed less than four minutes - the whole event so fast. From my son's crib (he was 3 months old) I could very clearly see a thin, vaporous light, white and swirling through the rungs on his bed, circling him, caressing him. I know my son was not a Christian, he was a baby, but his guardian was with him that night - in cooperation with Sam. We were protected. This is just one time - but a date, a moment I cannot live without.

Sam is ALWAYS on my left. YOU are not allowed to stand on my left. No one is - wait, that's not true. Reuben can actually stand on my left. He is the only one. When someone does venture to this side of me, they almost always retreat - easily, on their own, to my right. Some have even mentioned knowing a presence was responsible for moving them. My best friend Jeannie likes to push Sam around at times. She'll grab me on the left side, and hug me, walking with me and all the while laughing at Sam, but even she - after a second or two will move. Sam's rather large. He does give in to Reuben, which is interestingly strange....but is it?

So, to Sam - I lift my voice in praise, asking God to bless him, to continue his long and unchangeable life. I do not, I will not worship him. I worship ONLY my God and Savior Jesus Christ, but for Sam, for my very dear and courageous friend - I say thank you Lord for this gift.

I also, from my heart, pray that you meet up with your angel personally too.


Sam is so much better looking than this, but hey! 

You're Not Disposable.

 This is one of those blogs where I write it for someone very specific, but it can be read by and understood by many others. Today, a friend of mine (thank you for allowing me to share) told me that his wife basically told him he was trash. She said, when asked what day she would do over, that she would do over the day they met because he's only caused her pain and heartache.  He rebutted of course, as he should, because no one marries someone and stays married for as long as they have been married, believing that the very day they met ONLY led to sorrow. No, she must have felt something at sometime. She must have meant what she thought she felt was real. There can't be an absolute about it - - she's exaggerating. Now, that being said, she may feel trapped or underwhelmed now, given that so many years have passed and she's not in the position or happy place she prefers. I get that, but to say someone is the very cause of every last bad moment of your life is just hyperbole at best, and thoughtless.

    My friend is an average man. I'll say this, he's a musician, he's creative, he's even depressed at times, and yes, he gets into what he calls "misery goats" and yes, he fully expects that his wife, his helpmate, will be there for him. Perhaps she's thinking she's been there too often, maybe she's thinking she's been there too often as of lately, or that he should be able to somehow step out of his funk, and do what needs to be done in order to stop those misery goats from calling. I don't know, he and I have discussed the reasons for his depression at length. Sometimes he agrees with her and says they should divorce for her health. I think he's just being modest or kind, perhaps even selfless, wanting her to have the freedom he feels he's held her from, again, I don't know. He's not my husband, I would have an entirely different approach on the matter if he were. (...and before you think so, no, when or if they divorce, he and I will not become a couple. We are too close of friends to do that.)

    I know this: I have never been so deeply depressed that I stayed in bed for days. I know there are people who do that. I have never had anxiety about the "real world" and all that's coming for me, to feel that I can't face the job, get on a bus, stand in a line, etc. I just have never had those experiences. I count myself as being blessed because I can say that, and maybe there are those of us who are this way so we can be there for others when they do experience the downfalls of mental anxiety, illness, or just a moment of fear. Why not? Why can't we be there for them when they need us?  My guess, or best guess, would be that they don't ask for the help, and we're just too busy being happy that we don't see their need! I know that if I were made aware of the need for my service I would be the first to step in and ask "How can I serve you?"  I don't think I would say "How can I help you?" because help and serve are really two very different things. To "help" would purport that the other person will assist in the process, and to "serve" indicates that the other person is either unable or unwilling to help. 

    One thing my good friend experienced this past week, (and again, he doesn't mind me telling you as long as I don't point out where he lives and how to find him online...) was that his wife stated that when they are  having sex she's thinking of a particular actor. I had to admit, when I heard the name I didn't recognize it, and my friend said "Well, needless to say, he's a handsome chap, and makes a load more money than I do."  I had to assume that his wife was infatuated by the actor, and that she (like so many) tends to fantasize about having sex with someone else while being there physically for another. It did make me think about the very deep seeded betrayal of those thoughts however. If you're married to someone, you've sworn to love, honor, cherish, and be faithful to them, doesn't that mean in your mind as well as your heart and body? It should. Are we all guilty? Probably.  Does that make it right? No. It may make it normal, average, but never right.

    People say there comes a time when it's time to walk away. I am just sure that this would not happen if we waited on God to supply our partners in the first place, as God doesn't make mistakes, but we do, don't we? We make a "load" of mistakes, and we do need to realize from time to time that it may very well be time to walk away if the other person in our marriage is causing us to feel less than what we are, less than what God knows we are, and it's time to begin the walk we know we need to have with Christ so that we can not only heal from the present agonies (Misery Goats) but also the ones of our past. It's time. Good friends will always stand with you if you are falling. Good friends will always be there for you. You don't need to find a bunch of good friends really, just one or two is all a person really needs in life. I am there. I am here.

    My friend, and anyone else who is reading this, you are not a throw-away. You are not disposable. You are not the reason for someone else's mindset of what they consider to be misery or depression. They have to fight their own demons, and you may be a reminder to them of what they can't handle, but you are not the cause. You are made in the image of Almighty God. You are His, and because He is so very perfect, you are perfect in His eyes if you have accepted his Son Jesus.  My friend has in fact, accepted Jesus, and so has his wife. We're all just a bit too human at times. She has the right to be happy and so does he.  Perhaps their differences can remain in the past, and their tomorrows filled with mutual respect as they choose to move away from each other and into their own direction. I pray they take Christ with them.  

    I admitted early here, and I've said it to my friend too, I can't be his wife because he doesn't follow Christ to the extent that he needs to in order to lead me.  I follow Christ now, and if I ever marry again I will follow my husband who will follow Christ.  Though I will still, at that time, follow every word that Christ lays on my soul, but if I were to marry I would have a human obligation to be the person to support, love, cherish, honor, and yes, I'm old enough to say "obey" my husband. That's why I won't marry again. He would have to be SOOOOOOOO close to our Lord that I would not fear any decision or word coming from his heart or mouth.  That's a tall order indeed!  God, and God alone would have to be the one to drop that in my lap - - perhaps He will, and if He does there would be no question in my heart or my mind who it was that I loved any and every minute of waking and sleeping hours. I have never understood a man or a woman who could promise to love and then bite their lover so hard with damning and cruel words. 

    Please be kind to those who make promises to.  You don't have to stay, you can leave, but please don't be cruel in the process. There is no good in that.

Photo Credit: Fine Folly Minis

    

Back to Reality -- Mostly.

 OK, so to be honest, there's no way I'm going to go fully back into reality. Reality sucks! I would so much rather be living in my little fantasy world where I'm not only perfectly sized, I have no debt, I have less aches in my bones, I have so much more energy after walking only 10,000 steps; at least I know where to begin my dreams, right? Today, I decided, much like I did on August 3, 2020, that I was just becoming a couch potato and it was time to buck it up, and return to the diet and exercise routine I had before I decided to go back to work.  When I was at home I had time to prep my food, work out, box a few minutes every day, walk 15,000 steps, and I usually ate less carbs and sugar because I knew they were not that good for me. Now that I've been lazy, not taking the time to prepare my week's lunches and such in advance, I've slacked off.  I am only averaging 2.0 miles a day now, and that's ONLY because I put in over 10,000 steps today. I think I was hovering in the 2000 mark yesterday. SLACKER!!

    I could sit here and say I have an excuse since I'm studying for the Series 7, but I don't have an excuse. I take time off during the morning to drink coffee, walk the dog, write in my journal, talk to neighbors, and I admit it, I've been online looking at the next flat I want to buy as well. I have plenty of time to box, and I'm going to do that tomorrow. Today, I went back to eating only fruits, vegetables, peanut butter, cheese, and maybe...bacon, except I ran out and haven't replenished my stash. I made oatmeal with cranberries for breakfast and only thought about bacon since I didn't have any in the house. I will have to walk to the store and get more. WHAT? Wait, did she just say WALK TO THE STORE? Yes, I do that from time to time. I have to keep in practice. When overseas I walk so much more than I do here in the States. I mean, there's a reason that that. We have buses in Edinburgh that literally pick us up 24/7, but not here in Oklahoma! NOPE...if I want to walk I have to walk during times when the creepy people are still sleeping, or they've not looked outside to see me passing by their houses. It's just not that safe in the States, where I live, to walk without a friend, a gun, or a pack of dogs....or any combination of the three.

    I walked to a particular store and took my little tote bag with me. I do that to remind myself that I will not be here in Oklahoma forever. I will be back in Edinburgh. I will be back where I want to be. I will be crossing the Firth of Forth by bus or rail and then taking a wee hike to the Tesco of my choice. I love Tesco, but not as much as I love Lidl and Aldi. I think Lidl and Aldi are twins really, and maybe Tesco is their bigger older cousin. Morrisons is like their grandparent, with all the tidy little pretty things you can buy, and the sweeter older feel to it. I don't know, I just love grocery stores a bit more than most people, I suppose. It is what it is. In my fantasies I guess I could live inside a Lidl and shop when I felt like it or needed to get a snack.  There's a spot in Edinburgh that I truly have to say makes my heart pound a bit faster. I can stand in the middle of that area and choose a store  in literally any direction and reach the store within minutes. No bus. No fuss. Just me and the tote.

    Today's haul from the store of my choosing was to go strictly European. I only picked up items that I could buy in Edinburgh; certain cheeses, crackers, fruits, the same chocolate there is sold here, thank you Jesus. I also picked up a fat jar of peanut butter, an off brand that I think I've seen in my fair city, but if not it will not be the end of me. I just didn't want to see American name brands in my shelves today. I wanted to drink my Earl Grey, nibble a lemon scone, and know that off brand products were living and breathing (personification much) in my frig. I wanted to know that my taste buds would soon dance a dance of victory (metaphor) over what all has been happening in my "reality" lately. No one should have to endure the hell I've been sent through (hyperbole).  Yes, to answer your question, I am adding figurative language intentionally -- I'm also paying close attention to my grammar, punctuation, and overall imagery as well. I do that. I'm a FREAKING WRITER! Sorry, I needed to get that out of keyboard. 

    My workout today was a bit unusual, and though no one reading this will really give a damn, it was something that I had to chalk up to first world issues. I walked into the YMCA to find someone using the machine I tend to start out with when I start my routine. No worries, I told myself, I can wait a few minutes.  She got off of the machine, but her little friend came right in behind her to use it. I was already behind in my timing, so I went to machine number two. Oh, no, you guessed it, someone decided to use it as well.  Hell's bells!  It's not usually crowded when I go to the Y, so I was a bit taken back by all of the new faces too. Mostly, and I mean this, at my age, I am usually the younger person on the floor. No, I'm not kidding, I can typically out maneuver anyone who decides to crank up the energy to walk over to a machine I think I may use. Today these old grannies were up for the challenge!!  Dude! I had to hand it to them - - way to go Betty!  You rock, girl.

    Having completed my 15-20 minute work out in just over 30 minutes, I decided my tummy needed to be fed so I cracked open the frig to find a big fat green apple, peanut butter, cheese nibs, and prunes. I ate the prunes first, that's why they aren't in my picture, but I do love me some prunes. I know, right? You do too? Yeah, you can't beat a good prune! I could live off prunes, black beans and rice, but I think the diet should consist of a few more proteins. For dinner it was teriyaki chicken, rice, feta and pepper stuffed mushrooms (gotta be careful with the pepper, I could kill myself. I don't do well with the hotter stuff). Dessert consisted of more prunes and yeah, I threw in tiny little "fun sized" Snickers because I am just that kind of rebel! I can do what I want to do, when I want to do it, and you know what, it feels so damn good to say and do that - - God bless the U.S.A. God bless my First Amendment Rights. God bless my Second Amendment Rights too - - I think tomorrow I'll head over to the H&H Gun club and exercise my 2nd in the best way I know how - - target practice; over and over and over and over again. You just never know when you have to defend yourself against a Zombie Apocalypse.  OMG...you know someone is going to take me seriously. F*ck them. I'm a writer. I write. (Psst....Zombies aren't real. Any mention of fighting them would be FICTION....pure FICTION.)

    Enjoy the rest of your evening. I may put in a few more steps. 

Photo Credit:  Me!

Series 7 - - Stockbroker Exam

 This will be a short and sweet type of blog. I've been asked to stay home for a while so that my blogs can be investigated; apparently I don't always please everyone when it comes to what I write. I think Teddy Roosevelt comes to mind when he said (paraphrasing) that the man in the arena actually doing the work deserves the full credit. You can't stand outside the gates or watch from the bleachers and determine whether or not a person is worth their while simply because whatever it is that they are doing is not what you would prefer. No, you are the least of my interests if you think I will bend my ways to meet your limited standards. I am not only bloodied from the work I perform, but I am mauled by the would be spectators; my sport has become less of a joy and more of a chore.  Another quote comes to mind, "...to everything there is a season, a time and purpose under Heaven."  Sometimes you fight, sometimes you walk away. I'll stand my ground and let God do what He does best.

    During my time off I have been studying the Series 7 exam for Stockbrokers. It's not an easy thing, let me tell you. First you have to know the lingo, get into the terminology, and be able to know the subtle differences in trades. There are so many variables, so many factors, so many numbers to remember. I'm forever grateful for the Bond Calculator of course, but you can't use it during the test. Ugh! I'll have to make due with my brain; not the best choice of technology for what I'm about to undertake. I can do this. Greater is He that is living in me! I can do this. 

    Once the 7 is under my belt I'll need the Series 66 so I can give advise to others about what it is that they need for buying and selling in order to fulfil their dreams in their financial portfolios.  The thing is, I'm not really doing any of this study so that I can go to work for an investment company or bank. I'm getting them so I can open my own shop and be a broker dealer of sorts. The end game is to learn the market to the point that I can both day trade and side trade. If making money for someone else brings me a piece of the investment pie, I'm OK with that too, but for the most part I am doing this to prove to myself that I can do it, and that I don't have to ever rely on anyone else to make life choices for me. I won't be dependent on anyone other than Jesus; no one else has that right to claim me. No one.

    I woke up at 8 today.  I usually wake up at 5:30.  I walked the dog, drank my strong coffee, wrote in my journal, sat and chatted online with my UK friends and made myself breakfast. Around 10:00 a.m. I began reading and studying, and at just after 5:00 p.m. I've stopped that and am writing my almost daily blog -- I checked the mail, took a walk, worked out, boxed a little bit, and even placed an order into Amazon for more Series books to study after I finish the 7.  I'm expecting to have a really cool and relaxed October. I'm praying November and December will work out in my favor as well. I have the law on my side, I also have the truth on my side, and where that doesn't really matter that much to some, it still matters to Jesus. He made me. He made my brain. He knows me. That's all that counts.

    Here's another quote, "Too blessed to be stressed".  I don't know who said it, but it's true. 

Photo Credit: Barrons.com