Roman's Wife

2008-05-28T09:39:00.002-04:00

My Church Life Through The years

My earliest memory of church attendance is Sunday school.
I remember sleeping over my grandmother’s house on Saturday night so that I could attend church on Sunday morning. My parents were not Christian so my grandmother was the sole spiritual guide in the family. Being dropped off at Sunday school was an emotional mixture of feelings for me. I had severe separation anxiety and did not want my grandmother to leave my side but once I saw the friendly face of my Sunday school teacher I was fine. Class consisted of a short prayer, offering collection; this is where I would drop my sweaty quarter into an envelope held by whoever had the privilege to collect offering. For some of us the collection of offering was our first church job.
As for my offering, I held tightly to that quarter because I didn’t want to lose God’s money. My grandma was emphatic about my responsibility to give God that quarter and in doing so, instilled in me a great respect for being obedient to God. Offering would be followed by a colorful Bible story. This would be followed by a wrap up of the lesson with an art project. I remember coloring paper doll Jesus’, Paul, Adam and Eve many times over and placing them in story sequence with the help of my teacher on a felt board where Jesus miraculously stayed adhered to. Then my S.S. teacher would give us all a lollipop as she sent us off to our guardians. This is when my devotion to prayer began as I prayed that I would not get the green lollipop.

Being a teenager isn’t easy for any teen ever in the history of the world. Is this an overdramatic statement? Maybe. But for most teens not understated at all, in my opinion. Teenagers are in the midst of morphing into young adults and there are plenty of growing pains. I can honestly say attending church and having Christ in my life alleviated much of the necessary growth pain. We have to grow and it is difficult. There is no getting by the need to grow physically, emotionally and spiritually and the journey to maturity can be quite daunting but I can honestly say being an active member in my youth distracted me form the hardships of being a teen and growing into adulthood.
I remember all night youth vigils when we actually stayed all night until morning. We would bring our pillows and blankets but we would stay awake so as not to miss anything. This was a great time in my life I was witness to miracles and prophecies and pure guidance from the Holy Spirit in my spiritual life.
There were the youth trips to Great Adventure, campaigns, conventions and other activities that kept us involved and off the streets, so to speak.
There were the birthday celebrations, Christmas parties, sneaking off to the church kitchen during service because our hunger pangs kept us from paying attention to the preaching; at least that is what we used as an excuse. You have to be pretty prayed up to resist the smell of home cooking wafting through the vents and into the temple. After the Friday night youth service, the youth would get together in Charlie’s’ pizzeria after church until Charlie would kick us out. We were pretty rowdy Pentecostals but keep in mind we were also teens and still growing.

As an adult church life was part of my Christian walk. It was very edifying and needed. As a young mother and a wife and a student, church activities had not waned but instead grew as I longed to share my church life with my daughters and set an example of the importance of fellowship. I taught Missionettes, Sunday school and performed solos for the Lord. My husband and I were youth pastors and any other activity that we were called to do we would tugging our three girls along. My church life has not ended but it has continued as a second generation of our family has joined the church life.

Church life is just a part of out spiritual walk but an important one. Fellowship is key to any Christian’s life as we are all part of Gods family and we need to get together at our Fathers house. To hear what He wants to say to us as a whole and that’s where it differs from our individual walk with Christ. We are the church and we need to be united so that we can be in one accord and therefore have the capacity to hear what God is trying to tell His church, His children as we gather together to worship, adore, honor and serve Him

Imagine your family, your father, your mother and sisters and brothers united by blood. Imagine gathering together, every member of your family and honoring your parents and serving each other as together you learn about life from your father/spiritual leader of the home. Letting him guide you and teach you about life. What a great concept.

Take that very concept and apply it to your church family. It is the same, without Church life, There is no Christian family to be a part of .Our church family includes brothers and sisters united by the blood of Christ, gathering together, each and every single member, honoring God and serving each other. The church family learns from the Heavenly Father and allows His guidance to lead our pathways; His will has to take precedence over all.

My physical church life ends when I have passed away from this earth or when the church is taken up to Heaven via rapture and then together we are with our Heavenly Father eternally. Then my church life through the years will come to its true realization.

Be Blessed

Some ways To Reduce Stress

2008-04-11T09:21:00.002-04:00

Never borrow from the future. If you worry about what may happen tomorrow and it doesn't happen, you have worried in vain. Even if it does happen, you have to worry twice.

1. Pray

2. Go to bed on time.

3. Get up on time so you can start the day unrushed.

4. Say No to projects that won't fit into your time schedule, or that will compromise your mental health.

5. Delegate tasks to capable others.

6. Simplify and unclutter your life.

7. Less is more. (Although one is often not enough, two are often too many. )

8. Allow extra time to do things and to get to places.

9. Pace yourself. Spread out big changes and difficult projects over time; don't lump the hard things all together.

10. Take one day at a time.

11. Separate worries from concerns . If a situation is a concern, find out what God would have you do and let go of the anxiety . If you can't do anything about a situation, forget it.

12. Live within your budget; don't use credit cards for ordinary purchases.

13. Have backups; an extra car key in your wallet, an extra house key buried in the garden, extra stamps, etc.

14. K.M.S. (Keep Mouth Shut). This single piece of advice can prevent an enormous amount of trouble.

15. Do something for the Kid in You everyday.

16. Carry a Bible with you to read while waiting in line.

17. Get enough rest.

18. Eat right.

19 Get organized so everything has its place.

20. Listen to a tape while driving that can help improve your quality of life.

21. Write down thoughts and inspirations.

22. Every day, find time to be alone.

23. Having problems? Talk to God on the spot. Try to nip small problems in the bud. Don't wait until it's time to go to bed to try and pray.

24. Make friends with Godly people.

25. Keep a folder of favorite scriptures on hand

26. Remember that the shortest bridge between despair and hope is often a good 'Thank you Jesus '

27. Laugh.

28. Laugh some more!

29. Take your work seriously, but not yourself at all.

30. Develop a forgiving attitude (most people are doing the best they can).

31. Be kind to unkind people (they probably need it the most).

32. Sit on your ego.

33 Talk less; listen more.

34. Slow down.

35. Remind yourself that you are not the general manager of the universe.

36 . Every night before bed, think of one thing you're grateful for that you've never been grateful for before. GOD HAS A WAY OF TURNING THINGS AROUND FOR YOU.

'If God is for us, who can be against us?'
(Romans 8:31)

Today

2008-04-02T12:49:00.003-04:00

I will drink in
the joy of the Lord.

Laugh out Loud.
Seize the silly.
Laugh at Yourself.
Tickle me funny.
Lighten up.
Hunt for humor.
Cheer the weary.
Be the jester.

Let God fill your heart with laughter

A merry heart does good, like medicine.
Proverbs 17:122 NKJV

From "Special blessings For You Today"
By Karla Dornacher

2008-02-06T13:44:00.001-05:00

Body Image

2008-01-26T11:36:00.000-05:00

Unfortunately there are many evil things in this world. Fortunately there is, I believe more good in this world as well but I have reached my limit with this nation’s obsession of how a woman should look. The worst thing of all is that most of the criticism, bashing, meanness, vanity bullying, superficial crud comes from women themselves. We are our worst enemies.
The mania of a woman’s appearance has reached an ungodly,sick and perverted level and regrettably this fixation has seeped into our homes, schools, cultures and even our churches.
When I was younger and my disease was at its peak I weighed a mere seventy pounds. My eyes bulged, my clavicle protruded, I looked like an anorexic. People would come up to me all the time and say; “You’re too skinny, eat something, put some meat on those bones.” When I got better I was told that I was getting fat too fast (a result of my disease messing up my metabolism) Then I got sick again and lost fifty pounds and the comments ran the spectrum, “You look great, you look sick, you can’t be sick, you’re still fat.” Every one of these comments were made by women.
A man has never commented on my weight, a boy has never commented on my appearance unless it was positive. I believe men don’t think about that as much as women think they do. Women, what are we doing to ourselves? What are we doing to each other? This is scary crap. What are we thinking!?
The fascination over a women’s exterior has erupted to an uncontrollable level. This is our nation’s/world’s idea of the perfect woman.

The perfect woman has perfect hair, doesn’t wear glasses, her teeth are so blindingly white that they can be used as illumination in a blackout situation. Their skin is perfectly tan, Their abs are flat, Their breast are perfectly round and perky, their hips are not too big and not too small, They are perfectly manicured, shaven and dress with as minimal amount of clothing as the law allows. Their clothes are designer fashion, their shoes are Manolo Blahnik. If their handbags are a Vuitton, they call it by its first name, “Let me get Louis” (Louis Vuitton is a designer of very expensive handbags ranging from the hundreds to thousands of dollars a bag) Coach, Jimmy Chu, Donna Karan, and Hermes should be in her vernacular and in her closet. She doesn’t eat. She never gets sick. She doesn’t sweat (There are actually injections that woman are taking to eliminate perspiration, it last for a couple of weeks and then sweat returns) they can’t age gracefully because a wrinkle is doom. They are perfectly made up with the best cosmetics and tweeze their eyebrows to perfection and if they don’t want to menstruate they can take a shot that will relieve that and they only have to deal with the inconvenience of menstruating twice a year. In my opinion this is unnatural and dangerous. They don’t have gray hair and they don’t take public transportation.

Let’s examine some of the great women in this world who have accomplished and achieved monumental feats in the political arena, entertainment, journalism and much more. These are some who don’t qualify as what the world considers beautiful and who the world considers far from being the perfect woman. Sally Ride, Hilary Clinton, Rosa Parks, Sandi Patty, Aretha Franklin, Antonia C. Novello, Golda Meir, Coretta Scott King, Kate Smith, Oprah Winfrey, Kathy Bates,Janis Joplin, Mama Cass.

Any woman in a Ruben painting would be considered morbidly obese and at that time they were considered beautiful.
I would have been a supermodel in the eighteenth century!

If you had to choose your own eulogy, how would you like to be remembered?
Would you pick, “She was beautiful and perfectly coordinated, her accessories were appropriate for every outfit she wore. Her face was flawless; her smile was brightly lit with perfect teeth. She could run in stilettos, not that she needed to run, that would be so not lady like. She hardly ate because eating was extremely unnecessary for her and she valued her body and looks more than anything in the world. Her reason to live and dress in the morning was to please others and she lived to look good and to avoid the criticisms of others on her appearance. She didn’t read because that took too much of her time and she didn’t paint because it was too messy. You get the point

Or would you rather people say this at your funeral; She was a woman of substance. She loved others and she was kind. She gave to her community. She had integrity. She was not superficial. She was intelligent and contributed much to this world. She was approachable. She gave to others and she never expected anything back in return.

This blog is long and I went on more than I thought I would but I’ve had it and when the next person comments on my appearance, I will make sure as delicately as I can to give them a piece of my mind because it is offensive. As a woman I will consider it my responsibility to teach other woman how to treat me and themselves and how to value a woman's heart and soul and not their outward appearance.

2008-01-20T14:41:00.001-05:00

2008-01-18T13:22:00.000-05:00

yay!

2008-01-17T10:56:00.001-05:00

Just finished the first draft of my second novel! I started this one a few months ago and I am already done. I really loved the character in this story and couldn't wait to get back to her. I think that's what made it different this time. Glory to God!

Distractions

2008-01-14T10:13:00.001-05:00

I love to hear the tires of a car break through the wet road. My window shades are not exposing any outside view because it is only eight fifty two in the morning and I have not fully risen for the day. The rythmic rubber on the wet road sound continues as a steady flow of traffic passes by my window. I dont have to see the vehicles to know which ones are driving past. The bus is the noisiest of all. I can hear the entire vehicular giant making noise with it's entire body, surprisingly, the trucks that drive through are much quieter but still sound heavier than the SUV or compact car. The rain and consistency of automobile sounds can never drown out the obnoxious steady, muffled and yet still loud enough to hear, beat of music behind the car windows of a youthful, wannabe bad a*s behind the wheel. A driver who prefers to drown out the pleasant relaxing sounds of nature for the artificial sounds coming out of his or her radio which sometimes include obscenities.
This is as confusing to me as watching a DVD in the backseat of a car. The car should be the tool that takes you out from indoors to your surroundings outside, so you can take it all in. It always amazes me how people choose to distract themselves from their everyday life. It is a constant steady stream of diversion that redirects our thoughts to the mundane or to the overwhelming circumstances we find hard to deal with in our lives. The interferances of others or ourselves help to make it easier for us not to have to confront any discomfort or heartbreaking situations that need to eventually be challenged,faced.
The teen on the bus who clearly would rather that the world around her hear her cell phone conversation about who kissed who and who wore what than to be quiet and possibly, unwillingly, display how insecure she really is. It would be difficult for that teen to sit quietly on a bus and likely expose her insecurities. Speaking on her cell phone helps when she can not don her best poker face. It is useful when she can't disguise how truly lonely, worried, scared or sad she really is. It's a distraction for the person on the cell phone and a distraction to those around her, it purposely disturbs any speculation the audience surrounding the caller may have about the teen herself and instead shifts any personal thought to a curiosity of the conversation or an annoyance of having to involuntarily be exposed to youthful gab and gossip. It is a distraction for her and a distraction for those around her.

There are so many other ways to deflect from facing our everyday lives, other than the blasting car radio and the loud cell phone conversations. As human beings we have found numerous ways in which to sway our thoughts on our responsibilities, challenges and fears. There is the internet, email, blackberries, ipods and TV, just to name a few.

The constant need to avoid, to veer off what we need to face is, I suppose, normal or rather commonplace but has this demand for distraction making us better or worse? Does the urge to ignore everyday life make us less worrisome and instead more equipped to confront our life situations?

This morning, the first thing that was on my mind after waking from a sound sleep was that I had an appointment with my cardiologist. Today I will have a Holter Monitor put on and I will be shot up with persantine(sp?). So, what is the first thing I do. I distract myself. I don't want to face yet another test, so, after waking I brush my teeth and wash my face. The thought is still there. So I'll go back to bed and read my book but after a chapter my worries return. I close the book and listen to the outside sounds and I begin to get distracted. But there is still a sliver of concern lingering in my brain. I can't have that, so I grab my laptop and write about what I hear but the subject of external noise slowly becomes writing about my thoughts on distraction which then brings me back to my worry.

The negative part of distraction is that it is temporary, sooner or later, obligated or mandatory, life is waiting to be faced. So, no matter how many tools of diversion you possess, you'll have to approach life head on, no distractions.

The only thing that should distract me from worry is handing all my cares to God, who is in control , so really, there is no need to worry and thus no need for toy distractions. Entertainment and distraction are two different things. One is enjoyment another is avoidance.

Therefore, I will fix my eyes to the Father above knowing that with Him, nothing is impossible and I will cast my burdens over to Him.

It's been a While

2008-01-08T13:53:00.000-05:00

Well, it's a new year and a new attitude as always.
My Resolutions:
More Bible reading
More orayer
More church attendance
Ministry work
Giving charitably
Helping others

Who can I do something nice for?
This should be a question on my mind.
Less of me More of Jesus

Thank you is Such A Small Phrase

2007-11-18T11:27:00.000-05:00

It is a small phrase to show gratitude to a God so wonderful, A God who sent His one and only Son to die on the cross for all of us, for me.

I did not reside in Orphan Annie's "cell block" in the orphanage but boy did I have a hard knock life. I have experienced things that others can't quite imagine and have lived through it all. Why? Because God has never left my side and His faitfulness is awesome.

I reflect a lot. I suppose it's because I am a writer but in my reflections, I laugh, I get angry, I cry but most of all I rejoice.

What have I triumphed through with God's help? So many things. So many horrors. But only for God to always be glorified at the end.

I have been attacked on more than one occassion, I have had a gun pointed to my head, twice. I have been on deaths door a few times, I have seen abuse in my family as a child and have experienced it first hand from a self proclaimed atheistic father, young and overwhelmed with family and responsibilities. I have experienced death in my family, loved ones who have surely gone to be with the Lord and others that I pray, repented before dying. I wear the scars of major surgeries that have practically cut me in half. I have lost dear friends. I have lost possessions of things that were precious to me.

And yet...

I can not cease Thanking God, daily for my life.

I have been attacked but I have been rescued and lived to tell the story another day and to console others who have gone through the same experieince and tell them "I know what you are going through." without being hypocritical or insensitive.

I have had a gun pointed to my head and have had the shooter run away,cry or throw themselves on thier knees and ask for forgiveness

I have had a knife pointed, the tip burying in my neck to have the assailant flee for no apparent reason. (that he knows of)

I have returned from experiencing God glorious wonders in a Holy Spirit packed service just to get beaten by my father as soon as I walked through my front door at home, just because I attended church.

I have been told I will die by my doctors and here I am typing these words to you.

Those who do not know God would probably think I should be resentful, bitter or angry but I can't be. Don't be mistaken there are times when the "Why me?" person comes out but then there is that ever consoling, loving hand that reassures me that I was never alone and will never be alone and through the good times and the bad, throught the celebrations and the grief, He will be there for me always.

Thank You Father for my life, spiritually,physically and emotionally. Thank you for the friends you have given me near and far. Thank you for giving me an appreciation to embrace the differences in my friends and to celebrate the diversity of your people. Thank you for friends of all different shapes,sizes,ethnicities,religions and backgrounds. Thank you for my husband, my precious loving husband, we grew together in you and have lived God centered our entire married life. Thank you for my dear, dear children from birth to womanhood. They have grown so much. thank you for letting me witness their enormous stages of development, thier successes, thier triumphs, Thank you for allowing me to witness thier first steps,words, phrases and praises to You. Thank you for allowing me to hold thier tiny, fragile and beautiful bodies in my hands and for giving me the privilege to see them walk down the wedding aisle, preach a sermon, become productive citizens in society and making thier mark as Christians.

Thank you for the laughter. Thank you for my sense of humor. Thank you for the humor in my family and friends, Thank you for my appreciation of music and literature. Thank you for my voice, Thank you for my words, Thank you for those who teach me about You, Thank you fo rthe abiltiy to understand Your word. thank you for the Holy Spirit who You have sent to guide us. Thank You for Your Son, the greatest gift of all

My Thank you list can go on but as you can see it is much longer than my prior list. This doesn't mean that I will not suffer it only means that I have hope and peace and strength through those few times of suffering.

Thank you is such a small phrase for the ultimate gift given to me, my salvation through Jesus Christ, the son of God.

Count it all Joy as long as your will is being done Father

Happy Thanksgiving!

Memories

2007-11-14T13:41:00.001-05:00

There are so many things I have forgotten lately and then there are things that stand out in my memory. My first kiss. My first love. The first time I met my friends.
I remember my dad sleeping on the sofa and my mom sitting beside him while I was lying down on the cold linoleum covered floor. I must have been three or four. I had a Bic pen in my hand and was very excited about it. I smelled the Bic and stared at the ink and a small bubble surfacing in the clear plastic tube swam back and forth as I moved the pen.
I had a newspaper before me. It was open and I had circled all the letter A's I could find. I knew it was the letter A but I did not know how to read. There were so many A's. It seemed as if every word needed an A. I soon gave up and started to look for other letters.
It must have been summer because the coolness of the linoleum felt refreshing. I had nothing on but my undies and my hair was wild. I looked like one of those sponsored children on TV sans the flies circling around me.
I had an older brother and sister but I do not know where they are in this memory.
In my memory everything is gray. My mother's housecoat, the sofas, the stained wallpaper. If I were able to travel through time and I stood in that room I could tell you that there was a sadness in the room but not for the little girl in the room. She/I was oblivious to those feelings and lost in my world of letters.
How do I know that? How do I know for sure that my mother and father were not happy if I was oblivious? Interesting, it must be like they say, a child can see and feel things that older and more desensitized adults can't? But then why was I not concerned?
Another memory is a dark green (avocado green) telephone on the table in front of me in Ms. Blumsteins class. It was a huge and intimidating piece of equipment and when I picked up the reciever it was very heavy.
It was kindergarten and we were learning how to use a phone. We were supposed to know our phone number and address. My teacher, Ms. Blumstein had assigned the class to memorize both. Ms Blumstein was tall and skinny and wore a really tight bun. She wore long skirts and seemed nice but I was frightened of her anyway. She was going around the room and asking us to recite our address and dial our phone number. We had to announce our home number before dialing.
I was so afraid that when it was my turn, I would forget my phone number. So I kept saying the number under my breath in this way, when I was called I would know it. It must have been traumatic for me because I still remember the number. It was 633-3966 but, ironically I don't remember what I wore yesterday. It was difficult for me to dial the numbers because my little fingers kept slipping. It was very hard to pull the rotary dial with my small fingers. For a very long time I had a recurring dream that I needed to make a phone call. It was a life or death call but every time I was almost done dialing, my finger slipped and I had to redial again and would become inpatient,frightened and anxious when the highest number took forever to dial. I would wait for the familiar click before dialing the next number. It seemed to take forever. Those dreams ended when touch tone was invented.
I remember snack time in kindergarten and assembly. I remember the smell of tempura paint. A smell I still find comforting today when I walk into a classroom. I remember Elmer's paste and how I had to unscrew the top which was connected to a wand and that wand was what you used to apply the paint on the surface you wished to adhere. I remember how tasty the paste looked but I never tasted it, unlike my classmate Barbara who ate paste and crayons. I remember how the Elmer's icon scared me so I would color over him with my black crayon.
I also remember always feeling as if I was outside of my body when I was little as if I was on the outside looking in and I wonder why that is. Nothing much to this blog entry but my rambling about things I remember there are lots more memories but I am getting tired.

Feedback

2007-11-04T10:49:00.000-05:00

I think the reason why I haven't finished tweaking my book is because I have no feedback. I am so insecure about my writing. I need constant "okays" otherwise I feel like I am doing something horribly wrong and when my book lands on the hands of a publisher, he/she will call everyone into the office and they'll read a couple of my paragraphs and have a great laugh ending with the publisher sighing in a bit of aggravation, "Everyone thinks they can write" and then tosses my book into a wastepaper basket then throwing the styrofoam coffee cup holding a small amount of coffee in it and the remains of the beverage rolling onto the book, right over it's title.
Then the book lies in the wastepaper basket in a totally pathetic and undignified position until the janitor picks it up at the end of the day.
He is intrigued and prepares to read it. He grabs the cloth rag hanging on the side of his maintenance workers uniform. He wipes the coffee off of the title page, looks around to make sure no one spots him slacking off. He sits in the plush, leather publisher's chair and begins to read but he is quickly bored and says with a smirk on his face, "Everyone thinks they can write." He reaches into the bottom of his cart and takes out a manila envelope . It is his book titled, "Maintaining my life". He places it on the top of the pile of manuscripts.
The next morning the publisher picks it up and begins to read. He is totally entranced by the book and calls his assistant to find the author of the book. The assistant nods in obedience and rushes out of the office to perform the task of tracking down the writer. The publisher smiles like a cheshire cat and is pleased that he has the next best seller in his possession.

Jesus Camp

2007-11-01T10:17:00.001-04:00

Where do I begin? I have never been so livid during and after watching a movie/documentary.
Listo had recommended this movie to me and I was trying to put it off. I have been catching up on my movie viewing and I finally saw it, with both regret and thankfulness. I regret it because I am so angry but I am also thankful that I have an opportunity to tell about another side of being Pentecostal.
I am filled with fear, anger and confusion.

Luke 18:16 - But Jesus called the children to Him and said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these." (NIV)

This verse clearly is demonstrative of God's perception of children as innocent. So their chances of going to Heaven are set. It is when we are old enough to make decisions, old enough to choose between right and wrong, developmentally able to understand the consequences of the evil we do, it is then that we are held accountable and rightfully so.

The head of this Jesus Camp is a woman named Becky who scares the heck out of me, how much more a small, doe eyed, five year old?

Her quotes are jaw dropping. "Bush has given Christianity credibility? What!? You're kidding me right?"

She constantly spoke of the passion of radical Islamic children and how indoctrinated they are to be passionate for the cause and how Christian children should be just as passionate. This scares me.

Normally,Most children are passionate about Xbox, Dora or other toys, movies, cartoons or TV

It is a rare thing when a child is set off to minister.
I do believe it occurs but it is something that is not seen very often. Jesus Christ preached at the temple when He was twelve but He, after all, is Christ.
There were so many things that set me off as a Christian, a mother, a grandmother, a teacher both in School and in Sunday school.

One example is a boy featured in the documentary. A boy named Levi. He just grew on me, mullet and all. His mother home schools him and there is a scene where she is yelling and asking him. "What are you going to say when your teacher says creationism is stupid!?" He is meant to have a quick fire answer filled with intellect and profound in spirituality, an answer that will change the life of his teacher. No pressure huh?
If I were him I would have answered, "I'd be shocked because you're my teacher."
But I'm just a smart ass.

Let the child be!
We need to make sure that what we teach our children is not forced upon them but gently, wisely and lovingly fed to them. What they receive is what thier mind, spirit and soul are capable of accepting and processing.

A child is of God. A child reared by loving parents, parents who love and revere God and model God's love in thier home by sharing His word, praying together and tenderly nurturing any spiritual growth that occurs via the Holy Spirit working in that child is doing thier job.

A parent who forces doctrine down a child's throat and teaches him the word of God by rote is doing more harm than good.

I would love to see an update on these children twenty years from now.

What Makes Me A Christian?

2007-10-30T11:29:00.000-04:00

I have been observing the world around me and asked myself this question and the obvious answer is because I am a Christ follower. What does that mean? Really? Does that mean I must live a perfect life? A life without sinning, sadness, anger, fear?According to some around me I must be perfect. I can not stray from the path in the slightest. Any infraction will cause me to lose my salvation and be condemned to Hell and damnation. That's pretty harsh. Things have been going on in my life that have caused me much sadness, fear and anger, does this make me less of a Christian?
I used to want to die and now I fear death. I used to laugh a lot and now I am mostly sad. I used to hold things in and now I am more prone to lash out in anger.
Many may say that perhaps my spiritual life is faltering and I need to work on it. Others may say that due to the circumstances that are surrounding me,my recent emotional ups and downs are normal for any human being Christian and Non-Christian.
Jesus Christ himself showed anger when the moneychangers were at the temple selling thier wares. He was appalled and said, "This is a house of Prayer" He knocked over the tables displaying the merchandise and told them to beat it(paraphrased) Matthew 21:11-13
If my anger is justified and due to some type of injustice then I suppose I can still be a Christian. If my anger is rooted from nothing, no reason at all then there is a problem. Being angry for the sake of being angry, bitter or resentful is not really Christ-like.
The Bible shows me that Jesus was sad at times too. He cried just before His crucifixion. He cried when His friend Lazarus died. I think my emotions do not make me less of a Christian.
What makes me a Christian is if I am angry at the abuse of others, injustice, discrimination and then I do something about it. What makes me a Christian is if I am truly saddened by the circumstances around me, The War, Darfur, child abuse,death. What makes me Christian is if I, in some way or another to the best of my abilities do something about it, pray, donate time or money, protect, nurture or mourn. The fact that I am Bipolar and a Christian may be bothersome to some but it doesn't make me less of a Christian by any means. The fact that things around me get me angry should not be judged. The fact that I cry because I am sad does not mean I have no hope left or that I no longer trust in God. It makes me more human. It makes me understand my world and the people in it even more, having gone through similar circumstances that cause certain emotions.
I, personally am not edified or comforted by anyone who claims they never went through any drama in thier life and life is nothing but perfect for them. I find comfort in knowing people around me have gone through what I have gone through and survived. I find it abnormal that a person can walk around self righteous,"perfect" without sin that attitude is just creepy.
"Judge not lest thou be judged." "
He who has no sin cast the first stone" This is my favorite Bible story. Condensing the story; A woman was about to be stoned to death for adultery and they tried to justify this action but Jesus said, "He Who hath no sin cast the first stone."

Go ahead if your perfect cast the stone. Of course no one did.
Just some thoughts

Teachers vent at The Diner

2007-10-26T15:53:00.000-04:00

I went to the diner this morning. yes, after 20 days at home I went out. I can't take the Shut- in Life I thought I could so I don't think I am Agoraphobic after all. Anyway Hubby, Jake and I went to our favorite diner in B*y R*dge and at the table next to ours sat three miserable women. They talked so loud (or is it they spoke so loudly)as Brooklyn girls usually do (including myself) They talked about Bush and how he should be punished harshly. I'm not going to even tell you what they said, it was really bad. They talked about husbands and all four women compared themselves to Kizzy from Roots. Nice I said sarcastically.
Then they started talking about teaching and I said to myself "Oh God they're teachers!" All the while I am trying to distract myself and play with Jake but even he was annoyed by these women and kept turning back and giving them a death stare. His famous grill.
They talked about their goal being that when their students see them in the hallway they should run in fear. They laughed. I got nauseaus. One of them talked about a F'n kid who bit her and how she had to go to the hospital to get tested, you know the girl was latina, so she could have had A.I.D.S That's when I asked as loudly as I could
"Jacob quieres mas jugo?" (Jacob would you like some more juice?) They didn't even flinch. I continued eating my breakfast and tried to talk to my husband and whispered in spanish - that the women beside us are all miserable hags who teach helpless victims...I mean children. They talked about how much they hated their jobs and on and on blah blah blah
I wanted to tell them they did not realize how blessed they are so they should stop griping and if you are that miserable then quit and give the children of our future a darn break.
Teachers all gripe. We did. We griped about Curriculum reports, progress reports, faculty meetings, parents but rarely about the children and if the child was a problem we griped about how help wasn't coming fast enough.There's always that child that gets under your skin but we were never cruel like these teachers were/are But I can proudly say that I loved teaching and my friends who teach love it as well and respect the children they teach.

Then I went to B*st B*y with hubby to check out some computers. He is really having a hard time with them lately. He has a new flat screen and some B*se speakers and a new keyboard but the motherboard has to be replaced.
We saw this cool PC from H*wlitt P*ckard . It was touch screen for about $2,000 It was very Minority Report but it's one piece monitor is attached to the system so if one thing fails you pretty much have to return the whole thing for repair. What was funny was that a computer guy from the store walks over to us and asked if we wanted to know more about it so my hubby asked a few computer Geek questions and the guy had a hard time answering. Then I asked about the sound and he said, "I'll show you."
He went to Media Center and then he was lost. I said ,"Play music" and pointed to the option that read "play music" but he ignored me after several attempts and a lot of patience from hubby and I he touches (remember touch screen) "play music" but there is no sound. I reach across and touch the volume because I noticed it was on mute. He said, "no, that's not it." I said, "yes it's on mute see?" pointing to the speaker icon with the red circle and slash across, you know which one... you know the international symbol for "no sound".
"No, that's not it." He says this time he is getting annoyed with me. I'm angry now and realize it's because I'm a girl and then I say one last time, "Yeah, It is on mute!" I get an elbow nudge from my hubby along with a smile, "Dejalo" (just leave it be) Another computer guy passes and sees the song title on the screen and says I love that song rev it up. The guy says he's having trouble with the sound and unplugs something from the computer while enthusiastic computer guy is investigating the computer. He says, "It's on mute." and touches the sound icon. " I say, "I'm going to go look at pretty things." and walk away.

Wow The Memories!

2007-10-26T12:17:00.000-04:00

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God is good!....All The Time!

2007-10-22T04:56:00.000-04:00

How many times have you heard this "chant" being said from the altar of your church, "God is good!! All the time!!! (and) All the time!!!!(of course the entire...well at least most of the congregation who is awake will reply)God is good!!!! I have come up with a phrase or at least I think I have ,someone else as clever as I am could have thought up the same phrase...anyway the phrase is " automatic praising" I hear and see it so often in church and quite honestly it is a pet peeve of mine to observe people rummaging through their purses,looking through their wallets,biting their nails or picking their nose very non chalantly when suddenly the person in the altar request a praise, they respond with such a lack of enthusiasm. Seriously...why bother? Argghh! It irks me so. Because praise is something so wonderful. It is to be offered to our God in honesty,love and sincerity.

Psalm 66 tells us " 1 Shout with joy to God, all the earth! 2 Sing the glory of his name; make his praise glorious! 3 Say to God, "How awesome are your deeds! So great is your power that your enemies cringe before you. 4 All the earth bows down to you; they sing praise to you, they sing praise to your name."

God is so wonderful, so much so that praise should spew out of our mouth with ease just because of who He is. If we were to think about all the good things He has done for us and the fact that He sent His Son to die for our sins, praise shouldn't be a problem.
Tina, a very funny friend of mine whose humor bordered inappropriateness would get as irked as I was with automatic praisers and everytime someone would repeat the "God is good all the time" prompt., she would tell me that they might as well respond to the prompt with "Ham and Cheese" so it would sound like "God is good, Ham and cheese." Offensive? Yes! Just as offensive as wording praise insincerely. Just as offensive as not wanting to praise Him. Some say that praise is difficult for them because they don't have the eloquent praise "lingo "as others do. And it often reminds me of a song I heard years ago and it was one of my favorites..

"Even the praise comes from You
Every prayer that I raise comes from You
Fill my mouth with words of worship
And I'll give them back to You
'Cause Lord they're not my own
They come from You alone
Even the Praise, every feeling and phrase
Even the Praise comes from You"

There are so many levels to your personal life with Christ and one of those levels is to get to a point of spiritual maturity where you realize the greatness of God and the praise will flow out of your mouth with such beautiful fluidity.
Praise Him for who He is !
Praise Him for what He has done!
Praise Him for His love and Kindness and for His mercy and grace!
But praise Him with an honest heart, a heart willing and hungry to praise!
God Bless You!!!

2007-10-19T13:05:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow we celebrate Jakes b-day. My hubby and I got him some cool gifts. Yay! Fun!Today I sent my youngest to get some gift wrapping. "How much do you need?,"I askedThen I realized that I was shelling out money (and I'm not cheap) for something that will be ripped up in about five seconds and then discarded. What a waste! Especially since Jake is not going to remember the cute blue dog wrapping when he is grown up. He'll probablyremember the gift but seriously now. It cost how much for wrapping four or five bucks? Then there's the cute bow, then the cute bag to put the cute gift wrapped in the cute paper that will go unnoticed by the cute kid. The total will probably be somewhere like seven to ten bucks. Ten bucks can feed some people in some third world country. I hate that phrase "third world" but I digress. Jake is not going to dress himself with the wrapping paper. He will not use it for shelter and he will not be nourished by it. What I'm trying to say is that he doesn't need the wrapping paper. It's a luxury, more for the grown ups than the child. The child just cares about what's under the wrapping. Gift wrapping is a waste. I have gone to plenty of parties and people ooh and ah about wrapping. The gift wrapping industry must be a money making machine and whoever came up with the whole colored ribbon held together with a staple is a genius and set for life ,he or she along with his/her families...generations unless we can come up with something better. I am not Silas Marner,(famous cheapskate) I will go all out forwrapping on Christmas because nothing says Christmas like shiny red, green,silver and gold wrapping. Ha! I didn't have much growing up and when I had my first child, there was no baby shower or fuss. I remember getting a gift for my first born and it was the cutest outfit wrapped in the most precious paper. Cherubs all over the place, cute dimply plump ones,simply adorable. I was so touched that someone outside of my hubby and I acknowledged my baby and wanted to express their joy in her birth by giving a gift to my baby girl. And took the time to search for an outfit for her and then search for the perfect wrapping that I cut a piece of the wrapping out and saved it. I still have it. Really I do. I save all my gift bags. After saying "thank you" for my gift I always say something about the wrapping sometimes even before I open the gift I'll tell the giver of the gift that they will probably see the bag again because I will reuse it and I have a closet filled with gift bags. Some are so cute and generic I use them as lunch bags or leftover bags for when Sofi or Debbie come over and take some food home with them. I used to meticulously unwrap gifts so that I could save the wrapping but many around me would grew impatient with my frugalness (is that a word?) When did the whole gift wrapping thing start anyway? I have searched the internet for the answer to that question and have come up with nothing and I am a good internet researcher so if you know the answer, please share. Am I being too cheap? Am I getting to old? Am I being ridiculous because I haven't slept since the day before yesterday?Im not sayin'. I'm just sayin'.

Rest in Peace Mama Sofia

2007-10-12T18:44:00.001-04:00

Friday, October 12, 2007

The day of the burial was bright and sunny and we were all donned with the appropriate black. Keeping in mind my mother in laws humble nature, I wore a black skirt and minimal jewelry and makeup. The service would begin at the church where she congregated all her life. The service was scheduled for ten so hubby and I were on the road by nine thirty it was a good fifteen to twenty minutes from the hotel. When we left the town of Aguadilla and drove into the small town of Moca the traffic was bumper to bumper!!!! Today of all days there seemed to be hundreds of cars. Because we were in a small town there was no honking ,flipping the bird or cussing. Drivers just seemed to drive slowly without making a fuss but my stomach was aching at the thought that we might miss the church service. Traffic was unusual around these parts so neighbors came out of their houses and stared at the traffic, puzzled. The cows stood as close to the barbed wire that protected them from the gravel road as they could. They also knew this amount of traffic was unusual. It was no help that every turn that we had to make was preceded by the same row of cars and then it finally dawned on me. "Could all these people be headed for the church too?", I asked and hubby admitted, "This could all be for mama." So we calmed down and sure enough when we reached our destination the rows of cars were seeking parking spots. The church parking lot was filled to capacity and neighbors were signaling all other drivers to use their driveways. So we parked in a strangers lot. Small towns:)There was music blaring as we approached the church. Later I found out it was Mamas favortie hymn Beyond the Clouds. This was a personal request for her funeral. I also found out she paid for her entire burial and had her outfit especially made by her daughter Miriam. When we arrived before the doors of the church Mamas casket was before us and was ready to be rolled in. Amazing Grace now played as my hubby and the other late arrivers marched slowly and reverently behind her until we reached available seating. She was placed before the altar, casket opened and the pastor began to speak the usual funeral speak. There were women dressed in white who stood guard on each side of the casket and every now and then would change guard. Her grandaughter, hubby's niece Johanny read the geneology and some anecdotes about Mama Sofia. There were tears, lots of them. Then the pastor called each child by name to approach the casket and say their final goodbyes.But before that my hubby, the only pastor in the family shared some thoughts and biblical verses, then he reminded his siblings not to forget their father who still needed them. Father and Mama were divorced after he tried to cut her arm off with a machete, that'll do it. The scar ran from her wrist to just below her elbow. About seven years ago He gave His heart to Christ and has been a changed man ever since. On her death bed Mama asked him for forgiveness and he broke down and sobbed like a baby saying that He should be the one asking for forgiveness. They both cried and held each other for a while. Many of the children had not spoken to their father for years because of his abusive nature and so when the pastor asked Jose (the father) to stand by his wife's casket, it was a bit awkward. The pastor started with the oldest son, Jose jr. and his wife Maria nad thier four children, Maritza, Lizbet,Chono,Macho (yes macho)They went forward and said their good byes with much tears. Each of the seventeen and their family were called some took the time to embrace their father as a sign that he was forgiven and he embraced them back and held his head humbly down, you could sense that he was very appreciative of the show of affection while at the same time very ashamed of his past actions. When it was our turn..."Angel and his wife Debra. They have three children Sofia, Debbie and Angelica and their grandson Jacob. I lost it and started sobbing Hubby and I walked hand in hand to Mama who laid in peace. I touched her ice cold hands expecting to feel warmth for some reason but their was no life and so obviously no warmth in the hands that consoled me in the past and who held them towards her in prayer. The warm hands that held my three children and my grandson her great grandson. The same warm hands that embroidered little outfits for my girls and made them cheese pastellillos when they were hungry. These hands were so cold and lifeless. We returned to our seats and the service continued. Her great grandaughter, a soprano, sang her a hymn that sounded like an angel singing. It was beautiful. The casket was closed and then rolled out of the church and into the hearst and driven aways to the burial. There was a caravan of over forty cars with just family not including friends and the Mayor of Moca!! The caravan was led by a police motorcade courtesy of the four grandchildren who worked for the police department. The song blasted from the car especially equipped with huge speakers to play her favorite hymn as we drove across town to the cemetary. This time as we passed homes neighbors came out and held their heads down with reverance. There was mention of her death in the papers because she had made history as the only woman who bore twenty children, seventeen still living in the town of Moca.At the burial sight. I was amazed at the beauty that surrounded her. She was to be buried on a small hill lush with bright green perfectly manicured grass overlooking beautiful mountains. Among the dignified tears were birds singing and a nice cool breeze. My hubby was a pall bearer and seeing him carrying his mommy was touching and I know it must have been very difficult for him. The next day hubby and I returned to say our final goodbyes. He spoke to Mama and I stepped back to give his time with her. The flowers arranged on her grave were beginning to fade and dry. There was a vase of flowers that toppled over. Hubby picked it up and placed it on the foot of the gravesight and he began to straighten the ribbons containing the names of the loved ones. He cried again and said goodbye.He is not sleeping much these days and tells me he has a big hole in his heart. I understand the loss of a parent so I know what he is talking about. How different the world suddenly becomes. It is so different and the emptiness is so obvious. I tell him that he'll never not miss her but the pain does get easier to deal with but it is still very raw and it will take time.I know the holidays to come will be hard and every milestone that he cannot share with his mother will be bittersweet. Time does ease the pain but it doesnt heal it but God gives peace.

Here I am!

2007-09-26T11:30:00.000-04:00

This is my first post. I dont have anything to say really. I am a pastor's wife, but if you read my title info you probably knew that. I have a lot to say but today or at least right now I am stumped for words so maybe later on I'll try again but here I am!