Hope at Thanksgiving

My amazement never ceases at how completely our Heavenly Father is involved with the minutest details of our lives; preparing us for the tough times - often far in advance - even if we are unable to see it. I was ready at the first of last week to write my reflections on the sacrifices and difficulties that so many of our ancestors endured during the first few Thanksgivings in America when, if they were truly fortunate, they were living in one-room log houses with no electricity, running water, indoor plumbing, adequate bedding and clothing and only a fireplace to keep them warm. Each day was a struggle for survival and each meal put on the table was both challenging and most likely somewhat unpalatable since they only had the herbs and vegetables they were able to grow and the wild meat they were able to kill in an untamed wilderness. 

Unless they were in a small colony where cabins were built close together, they had few neighbors and were continually fighting with Indian tribes whose greatest desire was to destroy them for invading their land and taking away their way of life. Preparing fields for crops must have been a nightmare since the ground itself was overgrown and untamed and their tools almost nonexistent. They had to rely wholly on God for sun, moisture and protection from wild animals and Indian uprisings so they could produce even enough to subsist on.While painters provide works of art depicting joyous meals where tables were laden with food and peaceful Indians stood watch, I doubt many of the early American frontiersmen and settlers enjoyed such moments. 

Life was hard and each day was a struggle. But they had what so many of us lack in this day of indulgence and waste - a cohesive and loving family unit with an original father, mother and children working together to provide the necessities of life. We may claim that we have come a long way, and I suppose we have when it comes to the material possessions and the ease modern life has to offer, but I fear our abandonment of the values of home, family and country that once made this land so powerful and great have eroded to the point where it is almost unrecognizable to those of us who may be in our twilight years but still clearly remember what it was like to grow up with strong Christian values.

I thank my Heavenly Father each day for the blessings He has given me, along with the trials that cause me to draw closer to Him because there is no place else to go. I suppose that's why my original post was never written. The past week has caused to me look at life in a different way as my emotions have been like a pingpong ball bouncing hither and yawn with the slightest movement of the air. It started on Monday the thirteenth when I listened to a message given by Glenn Beck that can be found on YouTube under the title America - A covenant Nation. It was powerful and well worth watching and helped prepare me for the bombshell that would be dropped the next day.

I was on my way home from running a few errands when I got a phone call from my son saying that he and his wife needed to talk to me. I could either come to their house or they would come to me. Since I was already in the car, I turned it towards the mountains as soon as I could and headed in their direction. All I could think about was what I may have done to upset them because I tend to express my thoughts and opinions more than I should. But the haggard look on my son's face let me know that this was far bigger than anything I might be steeling myself for. 

The two dogs that are so often in my home came running to sit beside me - the youngest one jumping on my lap and trying to lick my face before my son could get his first word out. You know those moments when your head starts to swim and everything around you seems to be floating in an almost tangible mist? That's how I felt as he told me that my ex-husband was going to be arrested on Thursday and they wanted to tell me why before I heard it from someone else. 

Now many of you have read my earlier posts where I talked about his cruelty towards me during the years we were married and how ill-equipped I was to handle it. His insensitivity, quick temper and lack of emotional support made life truly miserable and our home was anything but a peaceful and happy abode. I worked like a slave to help him acquire what he wanted, abdicating my own desires and dreams so everything would look perfect on the outside. His need to be admired and respected by others was always foremost in his mind and when things went wrong he was quick to the point his finger at someone else.

That's why what I was about to learn was a surprise, but somehow not a shock since our greatest flaws are often our biggest downfalls. Sparing you the gruesome details that are so stuck in my mind I feel like vomiting most of time, he was being charged with four felonies and one misdemeanor for sexual molestation of minors within his own family - my granddaughter along with three step-granddaughters and a stepdaughter. My son was the only one willing to take a stand. His step siblings just wanted to look the other way so they didn't have to become involved. And my ex-husband's wife was livid because everyone was making too much of minor indiscretions that would destroy her comfortable way of living.

Words cannot express the range of emotions I went through during the couple of hours we sat in that still living room with fall decorations all around on the floor waiting to be put away and talked about hideous truths most families will unfortunately have to address at some point. And it's all due to the fact that so many people have turned away from God and embraced the philosophies of Satan that are so aptly administered by both men and women in the name of social progress. The evilness in our world today may be wrapped in nice pretty packages called by many different names but they all point to the same thing; the destruction of the family unit, reducing the worldwide population and enslaving those who are still free. 

I can't help but surmise that we have surpassed, and many times over, the vileness and depravity of Sodom and Gomorrah, and yet we as Christians know it will only get worse until the Savior returns. What side will we be on when that time comes? Fear, uncertainty and the constant influx of ideologies that are counter to everything good and wholesome will not stop now that Satan's full power had been unleashed in a world so willing to accept it. I had an uncle in the fifties and sixties who was a crossdresser and had been arrested for indecent exposure. Of course, we didn't know anything about that until we were adults because people understood back then that sexual deviance was a mental illness with side effects too grossly inhumane to even be discussed. Now those who violate human decency are applauded by certain like-minded groups who understand only too well that they will never be prosecuted because so many of the people in positions of authority are doing the same thing and they will do absolutely anything imaginable not to get caught.

Certain ones of us in the family are sickened by what has happened. And our agony is not lessened by the slow-moving arm of justice because  what we are enduring has become so common. The courts in our county is so backlogged with similar cases that a preliminary hearing is three or four months out, and if my ex does not do the decent thing and confess to his crimes when that time comes a trial will be two, three or more years in the future. While a no-contact order is in place he didn't even spend a night in jail. The uncertainty of what will happen and the amount of time involved only intensifies the pain and anguish of beautiful young girls and teenagers who have been irrevocably scared because of an old man's disgusting behavior. 

And I will never be rid of the concern that he may have done the same thing to other young girls while we were married, and that includes my own daughter who as yet can only say that she felt uncomfortable around him at times but has almost complete memory loss when it comes to her childhood. My son said the same thing about not being able to remember, and that's my story too. That should tell me all I need to know about the quality of life in a home I wanted to make memorable and happy for the children I prayed so long to have. It has also awakened my own recollections of being molested by my violin teacher when 10 and 11. The only real difference is that my mother wouldn't believe me. My granddaughter has a strong support system who will help all they can but the work of recovery and healing always remains a personal journey.

So here I sit at my computer a week after such a devastating blow was dropped feeling very grateful that as of yet no one has fallen completely apart. My son even sounded a little better when I talked to him last night. I am so proud of him for having the courage to protect his daughter even if it meant others believing that he was responsible for his own father's arrest. The truth is that the situation was taken out of his hands the minute my granddaughter confided in someone else. But my strong, compassionate son has been given no choice other than suffering for the actions of a man he still loves, even though he knows that what he did was totally reprehensible and deserving of any retribution he gets.

Where any of us go from here remains to be seen. We're each taking it one day, and even one moment, at a time. In ways, I feel vindicated for leaving my husband nearly thirty years ago. I promised myself that I would never say anything bad about him then and I have no intention of  broadcasting any of this now. My anger still makes the tears flow and my heart feel like it's a huge lump of lead inside my chest, but even under these horrific circumstances I am not the judge. Only God knows an individual's heart, and I left my life in His hands when I walked away from marriage and lost nearly every friend I had because I didn't tell my side of the story. I just wanted to protect my children from any backlash I could. In many ways, I pity the man who let the praise of men and women consume his life. I hope he will take responsibility for his actions now, but that's up to him.

My hope lies in the truth that our Savior atoned for each of us individually; feeling every pain and sorrow. Our sins truly are graven in the palms of His righteous hands. He will forgive, but we must do our part and the path to full repentance is rocky and rough. I have been on that path often during my life, but I can attest to the glorious peace that comes when one battle for righteousness is fought and won. My prayer for this Thanksgiving is one of hope, love and redemption. We must be in this world but not of it if we want to make it back to our God who created us and loves us with every fiber of His heart. 

What's Happening to our Holidays?

I read something really sad in the news yesterday. Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving - a real classic for both young and old - will not be shown on television for the first time in fifty years this holiday season. Included in that decision by the networks that control a solid majority of American's viewing habits are other traditional cartoons like: A Winnie the Pooh Thanksgiving, Jim Henson's Turkey Hollow and Garfield's Thanksgiving. In the same batch of news came two other disturbing announcements. City employees in Wauwatosa, Wisconsin, have been told by their superiors not to display any religious holiday decorations in public buildings this year because they want to be inclusive and not offend anyone. And Pope Francis just removed conservative Bishop Strickland of Texas from his duties because he opposed some of the mandates coming from the Vatican. 

It leads me to wonder what those in control plan on taking away from us next. And I don't believe it will be good, especially if Biden has his way in giving complete authority over our country's entire infrastructure to the Federal Communications Commission where he can sign into law anything he wants. Just think about the enormity of what is being planned. This means that one small group of unelected and ruthless persons who do only what they're told will be making all the decisions when it comes to the internet, phones, highways, farming, banking, railways, commerce, schools, trucking and the list goes on and on to include complete control over almost everything in our lives. Does that sound like a free society to you when banks are going under almost daily, grocery stores are closing all over the country and inflation has a noose around most of our necks because we can barely afford the essentials?

I look at where I've come since I started my journey of awakening as to what is really going on in our country and around the world in July and often wonder if I would have been happier and less stressed to remain asleep with the rest of the sheeple - all those individuals who behave the same way or behave as they are told, and cannot or will not act independently. In other words, those persons who keep their head in the sand and believe everything they hear on mainstream media that is bought and paid for by the far left, the cabal, the elitists, the 300, the globalists or any other name they go by. But make no mistake they are same group who have been working a plan for generations to depopulate the earth and make those who survive their servants who will have nothing and like it.

But then I realize that I would much rather know what little I do than still be in the dark when our world as we know it falls completely apart. And there is no way that can be avoided for much longer. The signs of destruction are all around us from the weaponization of the Department of Justice where conservatives are being threatened and jailed for stating their opinions and praying on sidewalks while looters, terrorists and murders can vandalize, steal, desiccate, and burn at will knowing they will never be punished. Our wide open borders are seeing thousands of unvetted illegals enter the United States each day - nearly ten million in the past three years and most of those are military aged men from every corner of the globe - and no one is even asking why they're here, where they came from, what they intend to do, or even if they are carrying weapons, drugs or are part of a smuggling or trafficking operation. 

Seven thousand - mostly young men - are expected to reach the southern border in one big caravan in a few days and they have been shouting all their way through Mexico - "Biden, Biden, Biden." Do you really think anyone is going to stop them? And what's going to happen when all the promises they've been given don't materialize because every state has used up all the money allotted for refuges seeking asylum and those coming here because they believe in the American Dream and are willing to work to have it. Even the sanctuary cities whose leaders were filled with so much rhetoric in the beginning are now shipping illegals any place that will take them since their cities are being destroyed. And what about the millions who have come here in a terrorist capacity and are just awaiting their orders? 

While my heart breaks for people who have never known freedom or what it's like to feel self-respect and a love for humanity, I fear I must still be a realist who understands that the training of youth rarely changes. I see that in communities every place I travel. Most of the people who come here do not want to adopt our customs, our language, our beliefs, our standards or our way of life. They want to rebuild their own culture in our country and make us feel like the outsiders. I cannot tell you how many times I have walked down the street or gone to a store and have not been able to understand a word the people around me are saying and they make no effort to try to communicate.  It's a very uncomfortable feeling and one I fear will only increase.

It is no secret that the Federal Reserve is bankrupt and has been told to cease printing fiat dollars since over forty percent of the world will no longer accept our currency, and yet Janet Yellon told main media just last week that the country is in good shape financially. If that were the case, why was the announcement just made that we now owe one trillion dollars a year in interest on the national debt? It's unfathomable to me that a nation founded on principles of liberty, justice, equality, free speech, the right to have and bear arms and total freedom from debt at a national level now owes over 35.5 trillion dollars to communist governments!!! And yet the men and women who sit in Washington D.C. and have sworn oaths to protect the constitution and keep our nation free want to pile on another 1.7 trillion for the next fiscal year just so they can function. Where has all that money gone other than funding wars, paying bribes, supporting pet projects that have no basis in scientific or even human logic, illicit activities of criminals who don't want to get caught and lining certain persons pockets with more money than they would ever have if they were being honest and law-abiding? 

Our infrastructures in every area have been crumbling for decades and the persons who are the backbone of our nation - those actually working jobs so others can collect government handouts - are being taxed to a point that many of them are losing their homes and can no longer afford to keep food on the table. That tells me all I need to know about the viability of the American Dream in the society in which we now live. I don't remember it being that way when I was young, but then most every one was nearly as poor as we were because we'd just come through the second world war. Still, despite the hardships, we loved our families, our God and our country and we fought like crazy to be honorable citizens who gave something back to humanity for all the gifts we had been given. But then the 1960s arrived and all the peace, productivity and promise seemed to disappear overnight. 

There were many warning from people in high places who wanted us to see the signs of our own downfall, like Dr. Cleon Skousen who made a lifetime study of our constitutional rights and freedoms and spent many years in the FBI. But as he so eloquently stated we were too busy muddling our lives with "drugs, riots, revolutions, and terrorism; predatory wars; unnatural sexual practices; merry-go-round marriages; organized crime; neglected and sometimes brutalized children; plateau intoxication; debt-ridden prosperity; and all the other ingredients of insanity which have shattered twenty mighty civilizations in the past." That list was made nearly forty-five years ago, and it's sad to say that it would be so much longer today. 

Glenn Beck added to these issues that were leading us to a point of no return in 2009 in his forward to Dr. Skousen's book "The Five Thousand Year Leap. He said, ". . . the bailout "un-stimulus program," nationalization of our banks and auto industry, the loss of secret balloting for union activities, taxation without representation, morally bankrupt standard bearers, tax cheats running government programs, pork-barrel spending, locking up natural resources, punishing the productive, rewarding the lazy, squelching opposing viewpoints, redistributing the wealth, creating an entitlement mentality, granting more rights to illegals than our own citizens, a fear of our fellow citizens and loss of pride in this greatness of this nation - and generally the ignoring of our constitutional rights, privileges and opportunities," also play a part.

But WE THE PEOPLE, as it so beautifully appears in all capital letters at the beginning of the constitution, still have all the power to take back our country and regain the liberties we have lost. The war has already been won because God is in charge and good will triumph over evil, but there are still many battles to be fought. I take heart in the number of patriots who are risking everything by taking a mighty outward stand in giving us the knowledge we need to fight a uni-government where so few true defenders of the constitution can still be found. I want to be more like them, brave and strong and mighty, but I am a peacemaker at heart and tend to avoid confrontations if at all possible. 

However, I intend to keep learning and sharing what I can with people I hope are as concerned about continued freedoms as I am. None of us can afford to live on borrowed light. We must gain our own knowledge by asking questions, looking for answers in diverse places, trusting our own intuitiveness and praying for confirmation as to whether or not our determinations are right. It's a journey we must individually take, but when we arrive at the other end we will be glad we made it. I want to see our country flourish again and have our rights restored so we can continue with the work God has in mind for us to do. We can accomplish little if we are not free to do it, but with our liberty we can accomplish anything. Stay strong and know how much you are loved for all the good you do.

Purifying My Heart

The congregation was singing a hymn at church yesterday and a short phrase hit me with such vigor I couldn't stop thinking about it the rest of the day and far into the night. The words merely said, "purify my heart, Oh, Savior . . ." I've sung that beautiful song dozens of times over the years but have never had that particular phrase hit me so forcefully before. What does it actually mean to have one's heart purified? Many ideas came to mind. The foremost being an observable commitment to bringing my own life more in harmony with that of the Savior's--a lifelong endeavor to be sure--or could it be that there was something more personalized and hidden that I had yet to see?

I have been praying for as long as I can remember to be less jealous and judgmental of others who have the blessings I have longed for my entire life but never gotten. Those desires have become so overstated that I often wonder if God still recognizes the anguish I feel over never receiving what I always believed were righteous desires. They were not huge things like wanting fame, fortune, social grace, being one of the beautiful people or even feeling secure in my own skin. They were simple things that related to the life I found myself in because of the actions of others and some very poor choices made on my own. 

Perhaps what I've wanted most was a little clarity and understanding as to why I have never been like other women who feel the freedom to be themselves and discover all the joys life has to offer. I've always told myself that someone has to be different and my disabilities have made me better able to see and interact with others who may not walk, talk or appear as refined as those who have been given different challenges. These so-called social outcasts are generally overlooked, dismissed and even found repulsive by the masses who have never had to worry about feeling included. 

My struggle with self-doubt and uncertainty began when I was five and my mother blamed me for the accident that left my three-year-old brother partially paralyzed and unable to learn like other children. Those feelings of insecurity only intensified when my violin teacher molested me a few years later. My mother refused to believe what I told her because the elderly man in question had given her the same kind of lessons as an adolescent and never touched her inappropriately. But even though I couldn't accurately express what was happening vocally, my body understood. I began pulling out my eyebrows and eyelashes and the haunted look in my eyes during those months was clearly discernible in photographs I have in my possession to this day. I was in my fifties before I began to understand even a portion of what had happened during my most formative years and the depth of the scars those experiences had left.

I suppose part of my mother's complacency and verbal attacks came from the struggles she was having herself. She was an overworked homemaker and mother with little money and far too many pressures and responsibilities in a world that was supposed to be somewhat idyllic after a second world war had ended. Adding to that, no one understood the true nature of pedifiles and the devastation to body, mind and spirit their perversions caused. The idea of sexual promiscuity, addiction and depravity were never discussed and out of wedlock pregnancies caused families the deepest shame. I remember one of the teenage girls in our neighborhood becoming pregnant during high school. Her parents sent her to live with relatives and I never saw her again. 

While I'm not entirely sure that I was born an introvert who rarely spoke her mind, that's exactly what I became. My grandmother once told me that I was a very precocious child who could tell the best of stories and loved dancing around in my little homemade dresses. But by the time I was confined to bed with Rheumatic Fever during the third grade I was living almost completely in my head and books had become my best friends. Perhaps it is only a coincidence, but I have never had a really close friend that I felt I could share most anything with. I'm certainly not proud of the fact that it's always been out of sight, out of mind for me when it comes to having even semi-permanent relationships, but during the past decade or so I have come to understand that the detachment I employed for feelings of safety was a defense mechanism adopted to stop the anguish of loss, uncertainty and not believing I was good enough. 

But I digress and need to get back to the concept of purifying my heart. While defense mechanisms can work wonders in protecting us from pain and misunderstanding, they can also prevent us from living life to the fullest as God intended. I have never shared with anyone my biggest stumbling block and life challenge. It's been far too humiliating and I haven't wanted people to look at me with any more derision that I often feel now. Women are defined as being of value by the way they look on the outside, and I have never measured up to any portion of that ideal. And it's not just because I have been trying to hide my greatest source of pain since the age of fifteen but because that trauma has affected every aspect of my life and I have never been able to move past it. 

Perhaps some of you will understand because you have gone through something equally as devastating. I was having my third bout of Rheumatic Fever during my freshman year of high school. That's a particularly difficult time anyway for a girl who was a head taller than most of the boys, wasn't exactly pretty or socially accepted and who gained every ounce of regard she ever felt from studying hard enough to be listed as one of the brightest in her class of nearly 250 students. 

My older sister was going to beauty school and had to practice giving permanents. I didn't want one but my mother insisted. Since I couldn't get out of bed and was scared of her, I was left with little recourse. She told my sister to leave it on for longer than instructed because she wanted to make sure it was good and tight. I just wanted to wear my hair long and flowing like the most popular girls at school but had no reason to believe she would understand because she never had in the past. 

The chemicals in those early perms were unregulated and horrid and three days later when I washed my hair half of it fell out. My mother told me to quit acting like a baby because it would grow back but it never did. From then on I became addicted to hairspray and teasing my hair so it wouldn't lie limp and thin and repulsive on my head. I hated to look in the mirror and could never run with the wind, go swimming, play sports or even have a boy touch my hair because it wasn't soft and shimmery like every other girl's. I became a slave to a situation not of my choosing and one that could never be undone. I've prayed nearly every night and morning of my life for a miracle that would allow me to feel like most every other female on the planet who takes what she has been blessed with for granted--a full head of hair that makes her feel feminine, beautiful and desirable. 

When I was twenty-three, after graduating from college without marrying any of the guys who proposed, I found myself saying yes to a man I wasn't particularly attracted to and didn't exactly love. He was strong-willed and domineering and had to be right all the time--a real copy of my mother in jeans who drove a sport's car and needed to be admired. He was thirty minutes late for the wedding and I spent that entire time praying he wouldn't show up. Everything in my life went spiraling downward from that point on. I've written before how he took one look at me on our wedding night and said I'd married him under false pretenses because my breasts weren't as big as he though they were. 

Part of his reason for wanting to marry me was because he said he knew I would be a good mother. In retrospect, that comment may have contributed to my never telling him about my first miscarriage when he was working a job away from home during the week and I nearly bled to death laying on the bathroom floor before realizing had badly I needed help. Nor did I tell him about many of the other miscarriages I had during those early years. Most of them Mother Nature took care of on her own because I wasn't far enough along to need medical care. But when I did, I simply went to the hospital alone or had a neighbor take me. My former husband let me know in no uncertain terms that he would never be agreeable to adoption because he wanted biological children or none at all. He blamed me for each baby I lost because as he put it he could get me pregnant, I was the one who couldn't carry it.

For those two reasons--losing half my hair and all my babies--along with other less dramatic ordeals, I fear I have been far less than the person I always wanted to be. My mind is often consumed with jealousy when it comes to women who have what I have been denied and then complain because they want more. I question my own humanity for not being charitable enough, judging others without having all the facts and feeling guilty because it's easier to stay hidden away at home than go out into the public where I know I will never fit in. 

Those feelings, however just or unjust, have intensified the past few months as our country continues to unravel and our God-inspired constitution hangs by an increasingly thinner thread. I haven't listened to mainstream media news since the Covid virus hit because all their news is scripted by the same group of people on the far left who can lie without the slightest grimace. Even studying independent news sources isn't giving me all I'm looking for because the evils the patriots are trying to unearth have been meticulously hidden for centuries and uncovering the truth takes time. 

I guess you could say that I'm finally awake and want to see something happen NOW. But that isn't the way this process works. It will be line upon line until every last detail is in place. Glenn Beck said it best on one of his podcasts last week when he told his viewers to trust no one, do your own research and then determine what feels right to you. Another podcaster said that we need to remember that God has already won the war but we must still be vigilant in helping to fight each battle for freedom whether it be on the world stage or in our own backyard. So the question remains, how do I purify my heart in a world of turmoil when I know things will only get worse before the Savior returns?

There are so many things that stop us from becoming the person we were meant to be. I've shared with you a few of my major stumbling blocks, and it's never as easy as my sister, the one who gave me the permanent, says. "Just buy a cute wig and forget about it." Well, I haven't been able to do that yet and the aging process is only making my predicament worse, but I am trying to do some good each day and think before I speak. I may not be able to do even half of what I was once able to do. Time, finances, energy level and so much more contribute to how much I accomplish each day, but I can recognize discouragement, disillusionment and depression for what they are--Satan's tactics to keep me distracted from doing what I can. 

I've been wanting to write since I got back from my trip but the war in Israel broke out just days after my return and the way certain groups of people have reacted to it has nearly broken my heart. How can anyone cry death to another human being? God loves all of His children equally, but he certainly doesn't love what some of them are doing. Being far less understanding than Him as a mortal, I find it very difficult to justify so much of what is going on, especially the total disregard for life as displayed by those in positions of power who want rid the world of nearly all its inhabitants and put the small number remaining in bondage to them. But that's a topic for another day.

Here are a few thoughts about purifying the heart that I found on the internet just now. You may find some of them applicable just as I did. They certainly brought added clarity and gave me much to think about. "To clean out any wicked thoughts, motives, desires, and intentions ..." "We purify our hearts by following the commandments, seeking the spirit in all we do, become more at one with God's desires for us." "A pure heart is evidenced by openness, clarity, and an uncompromising desire  to please the Lord in all we do." "Hearts are purified as we receive His strengthening power to do good and become better." "Giving God every corner of our heart." 

You might want to conduct a search of your own. I'm certainly going to work on it because I have a feeling I'm going to need a much purer heart  as the days unfold. We live in exciting times, but they are also times that can and will try men's souls to the point that even some of the brightest, best and most righteous will fall. 

Have a fun Halloween if you're so inclined and definitely try to stay safe, happy and filled with love, patience and joy. 

Reunions and Resolve

By the time most of you read this I will be confronting a very unsettling and confusing part of my more recent past. I'm referring to the almost assured probability of seeing the man who dumped me last April because I'm heading back to see my sister on Saturday and we will be making our semi-annual pilgrimage to Branson, Missouri the following day. We love seeing the shows our friends are in and applauding their ability to still make some very complicated dance moves for entertainers who are aging right along with us. Some of these long-time friends have died the past few years or have become too ill to perform. That makes our hearts heavy and our reunions bittersweet, but after twenty years, it's still like visiting family.

Despite many advances by male entertainers over the years who like women a little too much and are not afraid to admit it, I have managed to keep from falling into a compromising situation that would test just how strong my convictions really are. You see, I was raised to believe that sex--the only truly special gift I had to give--was reserved for marriage and the man I had committed to spend my life with. That's why I was a virgin bride who was completely devastated when my new husband took one look at me standing so innocently in the lamplight and said, "You married me under false pretenses. Your breasts aren't as big as I thought they were." 

My spirit was far stronger than I thought because it took twenty-two years of verbal and emotional abuse before my body finally gave out and I had to make a very difficult decision. But neither unwarranted abuse nor a nasty divorce where my soon-to-be ex  turned nearly every vocal person in the community against me could force a change in my beliefs about the sanctity of marriage or the beautiful gift that had been used so unkindly and unjustly against me. I still believe that somewhere in this vast universe, and when the time is finally right because I have done the necessary healing, I will meet the man God intended for me all along. I just got sidetracked along the way and had to pay a head price for my stupidity. 

But back to the upcoming encounter where the man involved is in total control since he was the one who no longer wanted my friendship when I wouldn't sleep with him. I'm basically trusting and definitely inexperienced when it comes to men, mostly because I don't want to be hurt again. I suppose that's why I didn't see his very enticing invitation coming, even though I knew our relationship was heading in that direction. How could it not when we had known each other for over five years and the sparks began igniting the moment our eyes met? Over the previous year we had spent hours texting, talking on the phone, and flirting in all those little ways that mean so much to a woman. But I knew he wasn't monogamous by nature and had women throwing themselves at him on more or less a daily basis. 

It was a risk to tell him no, but I honestly believed we were good enough friends that he would understand where I was coming and still want me around. He had often told me how much he valued what we shared and how he knew he could talk to me about anything. But that obviously wasn't the case. While I've tried to initiate a conversation where we could clear the air, I've only heard from him twice in nearly six months. Once in May when he said in a text that he understood and we were still friends and then in August when I sent him a happy birthday message. I've tried to rid him from my heart and thoughts, but not not knowing if he will even look at me when we see each other is making this upcoming trip seem more like a nightmare than a pleasant vacation. I'm sure I'm not alone when it comes to experiences like this because women get dumped all the time, even when they give in. Will just have to wait and see if I feel inclined to talk about what happened when I get back.

But before I stop typing, I want to tell you about the speakers at church yesterday. They had both been asked to speak about the Constitution of the United States of America--something not often covered in meetings like that--but certainly applicable in the political and social climate we find ourselves in today. The first one admitted that she had asked for a different topic because she didn't know enough about the constitution to fill a fifteen minute assignment, so she spoke about something else. The second speaker began by saying that he hadn't given the constitution much thought since he was in college over thirty years earlier, but he had found three talks that had given him a few ideas. 

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks as I sat in the pew by a friend and watched the people around me lose interest and start fiddling around with their cell phones. Why shouldn't we as Christians be interested in the God-inspired document that was meant to protect our inalienable rights? Have we become so desensitized to anything of real value that we are more interested in what our friends are saying or the disinformation the news media is propagating than in learning about how close we are to forever losing what the founding fathers worked so hard to give us?  

It was humbling to recall that until very recently the most I had contemplated the founding of our great country was when listening to the group, The Fifth Dimension, sing the words to the Declaration of Independence. I can still repeat them by heart. "We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal. That they are endowed by the Creator with certain unalienable rights. That among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. And whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute new government. Laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers to such form, as citizens have seen most likely to affect their safety and happiness." They go on to explain how they feel about what they have just sung in the next verse. It's a powerful reminder for free people everywhere who want to keep the rights they've always had, but have allowed those in power to meticulously strip them away.

I can think of no better way to spend a few hours than in reading the Constitution of our great country and really learning what it stands for and how it works. It provided for a republican form of government with elected representatives rather than a pure democracy governed by emotional mass participation. There were three equal branches of authority - the executive, the legislative and the judicial. The separation of power was a safeguard against one political party gaining complete control. This system of checks and balances has all but been obliterated today by the power-hungry and dishonest who want everything for themselves. It is interesting to note that the founding fathers were opposed to political parties in general and feared they would only try to divide rather than unite. They wanted true representatives of the people at the top where it really mattered. 

Since all inherent rights couldn't be covered in the constitution itself, a Bill of Rights was added. This too has been cast aside in favor of woke ideologies and communist propaganda from within our own political ranks and elsewhere. We as patriots must stand strong, immovable and united against the tyrants who wish to strip these inalienable rights from us. Here is a quick review of the freedoms guaranteed to every sovereign citizen:

1. Freedom of religion (First Amendment)

2. Freedom of speech (First Amendment)

3. Freedom of Press (First Amendment)

4. Freedom of assembly (First Amendment)

5. Freedom to petition the government for grievances (First Amendment)

6. Freedom to bear arms (Second Amendment)

7. Freedom from illegal search of persons, houses, papers or effects (Fourth Amendment)

8. Freedom from prosecution without due process of law (Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments)

9. Freedom from multiple prosecutions for the same offense (Fifth Amendment)

10. Freedom from the necessity of testifying against one's self (Fifth Amendment)

11. Freedom from imprisonment without a speedy and public trial (Sixth Amendment)

12. Freedom from excessive bail, excessive fines or cruel and unusual punishments (Eighth Amendment)

13. Freedom from slavery or involuntary servitude (Thirteenth Amendment added in 1865)

14. Freedom to vote regardless of race or sex (Fifteenth Amendment added in 1870 and the Nineteenth Amendment added in 1920)

We don't have to look very far today to see where all of these rights are being violated because the far left are slapping us in the face with them. Case in point, the two women in their seventies that were arrested and jailed this week in Washington D.C. for peacefully protesting outside an abortion clinic. They would have been released with accolades if they had burned down a pro-life establishment or risen in protest against citizens who refuse to give up their guns and ammunition.

George Washington stated, "Truth will ultimately prevail, where there are pains taken to bring it to light." What a humbling thought for all of us who are fearful about speaking up because we know we will most likely be punished if we do. Right now the far left is focused on stopping the patriot news forums by trying to ruin the reputation of any conservative that had taken a stance. They're even trying to ruin Tim Ballard's reputation because the movie Sound Of Freedom was such a huge success in opening people's eyes to the widespread horrors of child and human trafficking. 

In the news magazine, U.S. News and World Report, April 20, 1964, David Lawrence said, "The America of our forefathers . . . will some day see through the guilt of phony liberalism and cynical disdain for patriotism and love of fatherland.

"This America that General MacArthur aroused is not the America of petty politics and tricky manipulation of public power. It is not an America of 'double-talk' which denounces yet embraces appeasement. It is not an America of cowardice. It is an America of resoluteness and courage and sacrifice. It is an America that applauds the man of honest conviction."

Perhaps the awakening spoken about nearly sixty years ago has finally begun. I certainly hope that's true because we need a return to past values if we are going to survive what is being planned for our complete overthrow. May God grant us the strength of conviction to speak up for Him and the country He saved for us. It's a legacy too valuable to be lost through complacency, fear and lack of resolve.

 

An Historic Sight

Over Labor Day weekend this year, I had the opportunity to see Mt. Rushmore for the first time with my son and his family. It was on his bucket list and I willingly joined them while paying all the major expenses like hotel, gas and food. Our country's economic collapse is making it nearly impossible for younger Americans to provide for their families. Interest rates are soaring, inflation is hitting an all-time high and costly insurance is practically useless because the deductibles alone mean basically paying for every doctor and hospital visit twice--unless the individuals in question crossed the border illegally or are making their living by abusing one of our country's massive welfare programs. Which by the way, cost each working man and woman over a third of their take-home pay, and that doesn't include the hundreds of other taxes we are forced too pay. 

But this post isn't about all the biased, unjust and illegal rulings and laws that have been introduced into our society without the approval of the individual citizen and that run counter to everything our God-given Constitution and Bill of Rights were meant to protect. Freedom from tyrannical rule was the gift our founding fathers wanted to secure for all the generations that would live and flourish in America and it is hanging by such a flimsy thread that every true patriot should now be awake to the absolute danger we are living in and be willing to take a stand before everything we hold dear is lost. 

We have been deceived for decades by the very men and women who are supposed to be serving the constituents who elected them by preserving the constitution and the freedoms it stands for, not becoming multi-millionaires at our expense. Visiting Mt. Rushmore is truly an experience every freedom-loving American should have. And it's not just the chance to view such amazing images of great American Patriots carved into rocks or to learn about the intricate, expensive and time-consuming undertaking it was to create such a majestic work of art. It's experiencing a kind of pride that brings tears to the eyes, a lump to the throat and a heaviness of heart that makes it almost impossible to breath. There is a majesty and a spirit about that place that makes even the most reluctant visitor feel a burst of humility and awe.

My son was in incredible pain during that trip because of a herniated disk in his lower back that was bulging on both sides and pinching off the nerve going down his left leg. He is an amazing man, always willing to help anyone in need and had become injured himself while getting someone who had been in a motorcycle accident to the hospital. Watching him try to minimize the pain so his family could enjoy the experience made me realize just how important fighting for truth, liberty and the American way of life really is. My time on earth will be over in a few years, but my posterity deserves better than what they are getting right now--33 trillion dollars in wasteful and unnecessary national debt, and rising. That legacy of horror will strip them of all the rights I enjoyed--in my limited, nearly impoverished way--and make it next to impossible for them to find success, fulfillment and personal joy.

In 1966, the national debt was $324 billion. Adding accrued liabilities payable in the future made it exceed $1 trillion or an average indebtedness of over $5,200 for every man, woman and child in the United States. Said a different way, the federal debt at that time was equal to a first mortgage of $10,000 on all owned homes and was reported to exceed the combined debt of all the other countries in the world. What that number is today blows the lid off my simple mind. Math is not my strong suit but if one divides 350 million people, many of whom are living on welfare and haven't paid a cent of income tax in their entire lives, by $33 trillion we are already indentured servants to a bankrupt corporation and will be living like the poorest serfs in any third-world country if something isn't done to stop the insane spending and get the federal budget under control. 

That spending wouldn't be quite so hard to digest if anything more than a tiny pittance of that incredible fortune had actually gone to the American people in rebuilding our infrastructure, making home buying and insurance coverage more affordable, and assuring that every American had a job and could afford to put food on the table. Our homelessness, drug and human trafficking crisis and civil lawlessness has far surpassed anything imaginable even three years ago. Thousands of people are just walking across our borders without being vetted so we know who they are, where they came from and why they are here. And those we allow in are being given $2200 a month in tax dollars and are living better than the average American in some of the most luxurious hotels in our country and having all their needs met while completely destroying their surroundings and threatening the safety of the citizens in the community where they end up. Many of us who are here rightfully and legally, on the other hand, are struggling to make ends meet and are fearful of government overreach that has just armed over 80 thousand IRS agents, weaponized the justice department and made speaking out against liberal policies an offense worthy of serving time in jail.

James Madison said,"Since the general civilization of mankind, I believe there are more instances of the abridgment of freedom of the people by gradual and silent encroachments of those in power, than by violent and sudden usurpations." (Elliot's Debates 3:87; P.P.N.S., p. 104)

We are sitting at the most vulnerable time in the history of our nation when the simple brush stroke of a pen from the president's desk can take away any and all that we hold dear in favor of liberal ideologies that favor the few over the vast majority. Sadly, there is no one to stop the encroachments to our liberty since so few men and women in positions of power and authority have resisted selling out to the Deep State. That is why it is so important to decide how much more we are willing to accept in the name of social justice, environmental change and forward movement. Truth is still truth, and it will prevail, but there will be some dark days until the world finally accepts that Jesus is the Christ and there is a God in Heaven who oversees all that is happening in the worlds He has created.

I love the words of Dean Alfange because I never want to be just an ordinary woman who watches life happen without ever getting involved. His statement goes like this. "I do not choose to be a common man. It is my right to be uncommon. I seek opportunity to develop whatever talents God gave me - not security. I do not wish to be a kept citizen, humbled and pulled by having the state look after me. I want to take the calculated risk; to dream and to build; to fail and to succeed. I refuse to barter incentive for a dole. I prefer the challenges of life to the guaranteed existence; the thrill of fulfillment to the stale calm of utopia. I will not trade freedom for beneficence nor my dignity for a handout. I will never cower before any earthly master nor bend to any threat. It is my heritage to stand erect, proud and unafraid; to think and act myself, enjoy the benefit of my creations and to face the world boldly and say--'This, with God's help, I have done.' All this is what it means to be an American."

Thomas Paine, whose writing helped stir people to action during the days of the American Revolution said this, and its sentiments are just as true today because we are on a clear path to losing what was so valiantly provided by our founding fathers. "These are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it NOW, deserves the love and thanks of men and women. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obatain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; 'tis dearness only that gives everything its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed, if so celestial an article as FREEDOM should not be highly rated." (The Political Works of Thomas Paine, p.55)

I value freedom over peace and know that the fight ahead will not be easily won. In fact, it may not be won at all without divine intervention in our hour of greatest need. But as American Citizens and Christians who understand the value of what we have been given and who, unwittingly and mostly unknowingly, have played a part in the disintegration of our country by maintaining silence must stand strong now and outwardly support the side we wish to be on. Fear is our greatest enemy and we can rest assured that our adversaries know this and will use it against us. But with God and His angels surrounding the cause of truth we can speak out with courage and hope for we are not alone. Loyal PATRIOTS have never stopped this fight for continued freedom. But they need us to stand with them.

Unfortunately, the hour is late and the time is short. But as we invite God's blessings on our efforts to protect the freedoms He so graciously and lovingly gave, we cannot fail when arousing our neighbors to join in the battle. It is still the conflict between good and evil that has raged unmercifully since Satan rebelled and was cast out of God's presence with a third of the host of heaven. Not surprisingly, the greatest evil of our day is the Godless, socialist-communist conspiracy that has infiltrated every aspect of our lives and will continue to do so unless stopped. Their goal is to take over the world by corrupting each country from within, and they don't really care how long it takes.

We can help combat that insidious movement by returning to a respect for national morality, law and order, strong families, a desire to do something meaningful with our lives and a return to church activity where common goals can be fortified. Not everyone is equipped to be a martyr, a statesman or a speech giver. But everyone can find something that isn't too far outside his or her comfort zone to promote liberty, justice and freedom for all. Just start where you are today and don't be afraid. The more you share with others, the more you will find like minded people who just want to do what is right but need a little push. God be with each of you as you make your way through this difficult but exciting time to be alive.  

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Final Allegiance

Resilience

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Absent, but with good reason

 The 4th of July was a real turning point for me this year when it came to reevaluating my stance of apathy and true lack of interest when it comes to what is happening in the America that I love so very much. Like many of you, I have been in a state of confusion and disbelief the past three years at how rapidly and completely our great country has fallen into a state of mass confusion, civil disobedience and moral bankruptcy.  Criminal behavior is overlooked and even applauded while honest, good people are being jailed for Christian beliefs and standing up for their God-given rights --inalienable rights that were meant to be protected by our Constitution and Bill of Rights. This is not the country I grew up in, nor is it the country of even a few years ago where we still enjoyed relative prosperity and could afford to care for our families because we were still free to pursue the American Dream of obtaining what we worked to achieve.

I am a Baby Boomer, and quite proud of it even if it means I'm getting old.  For those of you who do not know what that term means, I was a post-World War II baby born to father who had served in the Army during the conflict and a mother who had worked as a secretary in several branches of the government. They were thoroughly patriotic, despite the fact that some of the men who had not served their country had achieved great financial success while they were busy helping their fellowmen. My father was content with what little he got through the GI bill that allowed him to purchase eighty acres of farm ground where he hoped to provide for his family and teach them correct principles.

Like I've stated in several past posts, we had very little growing up. I spent the first months of my life in a basement without running water. And when my father was finally able to build a cinderblock addition above it there was only room for a kitchen, living room, bathroom and small playroom where we kept our toys and clothes. Mostly we kids used the two-seater outhouse that was partially shielded from view by several huge trees, especially when it was warm enough to be outside during the often unpredictable South Eastern Idaho weather. There were winter months when six feet of snow stood in front of the door making it impossible to get inside.

We would get a thorough scrubbing each Saturday night so we would be ready for church the next morning, each taking quick turns in the same bath water before it got cold. Mother would use rags to help curl we girl's hair and we each had one good outfit that had to be removed the moment we got home so it wouldn't be ruined. When one child outgrew it, it would passed to the next brother to sister in line. We always had plenty to eat because we raised most all of our own food from beef, pork and chickens to apples and plums and everything imaginable that could be grown in a mammoth-size garden. Canning and preserving was a way of life and taught me skills that I still use today. I just finished making several batches of peach freezer jam.

I suppose I digress from the point I'm trying to make, but I've spent the past two months trying to study and learn how I could have missed the destruction of our beloved republic from the inside out over the course of my life. When I was little, Independence Day was one of complete joy with local parades filled with floats, bands and people walking along the route handing out candy. The skies at night were filled with the glorious colors from fireworks and everyone dressed in red, white and blue to acknowledge their patriotism and love for our great country. Sparklers and family dinners were a must, and family of all generations told stories of heroism and loyalty. I was filled with pride because so many of my ancestors fought so valiantly for the freedom I really didn't know anything about at the time.

At school, we said a prayer each morning asking for help with our studies, our behavior and any problem we might be facing. And we would put our hands joyfully over our hearts as we recited the Pledge of Allegiance and listened to patriotic music. We learned about our founding fathers and the sacrifices they made so we could live in a country free of tyranny and unrighteous dominion. We studied the government and how it was supposed to operate and what we would lose if it usurped power from the people and started passing laws that took away our rights. 

I was so proud to be an American and wanted everyone throughout the world to have the same freedom I did, but like so many of my generation I was too young to understand what the 1960s would bring and how everything that was promoted was intended to break down home, family and moral values and supplant them with disingenuous ideologies and cynicism when it came to God. By the time I made it to college, I liked wearing short shirts and going to unchaperoned dances and gave little thought to our country because I was so busy pursuing my own academic studies.

Then came marriage and all the struggles of trying to adjust to a very difficult relationship, finding the means to finance a home, paying unending bills and raising a much-wanted family. I voted in every election and supported the movement to keep gambling out of Idaho, but since I rarely left our small country community I had no idea how rapidly society was disintegrating when it came to the kind of life I envisioned for future generations of my posterity. I was so busy trying to survive that I seldom listened to the news and the only major catastrophe I lived through was the collapse of the Teton Dam. 

When my marriage finally fell apart and I became a full-time teacher, I was immediately drawn to one of my high school passions --Journalism. I taught my students what a grave responsibility it was to accurately report the truth so the public would not be deceived. I made them do in-depth reporting and would not allowed anything to be printed that had not been checked for accuracy. Even opinion articles needed to be based on a provable truth. Integrity means everything because once trust is lost it is nearly impossible to regain.

I have said numerous times over the past couple of years that I would be fired the first day if I returned to the classroom because I will never be amenable to all the falsehoods being promoted by special interest groups who want a complete collapse of our republic. It horrifies me how fully the far left has embraced the doctrines of communism and have made sure their people are appointed to positions of trust within our society and government where they can spread totalitarian doctrine without any resistance because they no longer feel the need to hide who they are and what their intentions include. 

Cases in point. Emily Drabinski was elected president of the American Library Association earlier this summer. She stated in an interview with Fox News that she was thrilled as a lesbian and a communist to be given such an honor. Those two descriptors have now been deleted from any information about her on the Internet. And just two days ago the Revolutionary Communist Party demanded an end to "Christian Fascism" at a school board meeting in Orange County, California, and told the attendees to "get ready for a revolution to overthrow this whole system that gave birth to this White supremacy and this male supremacy."

Pretty scary stuff when added to everything else that has been allowed to happen in our country recently. My disillusionments and concerns about where our nation is at has led me on a journey of trying to understand how we became so completely lost as a republic that once believed in freedom and equality for all those who were willing to uphold the Constitution and Bill of Rights. Those unique and praiseworthy individuals were actually wiling to pursue the American Dream under their own steam and by the sweat of their brows instead of demanding a livelihood at the expense of the working class while doing nothing but contribute to the national debt and an increase in many reprehensible forms of crime. Perhaps that is an oversimplification, but nothing in life is ever free, and I fear the people who are paying for everyone else's existence when their own needs are not being meet due to increased taxes, unreasonable deductibles on insurance and ever increasing interest rates are beginning to despair and lose hope in a future that once brought such great joy. 

I began my research with a lot of prayer and self-reflection. It's not easy to find truth when the media is being controlled by one party and the justice system has been weaponized against anyone who speaks out against any liberal ideology. But I soon found that there are many brave men and women who are risking their lives, livelihoods and any semblance of peace to expose the people who are trying to destroy everything that America once stood for. They are strong and knowledgeable patriots, found in some of the most unusual places, who have promised to fight for liberty until their dying breath. So much of what they say resonates with truths I have always known inside and I include them in every prayer. We may have differences of opinion when it comes to some religious beliefs, but they love God as much as I do and are not afraid to let others know where they stand. 

The Constitution of this magnificent country was divinely inspired and instituted by men and women raised up to give mankind a chance to experience God-given liberty. With our Constitution hanging by a thin thread it will take every patriot in the country standing firmly together against the tyranny that surrounds us. It won't be easy, and I fear many of us will prefer to remain silent, but our silence only means that we have no real objection to our continued slide into full-blown communism where all freedom and hope is lost. Perhaps that's why it's taken me two months to form another post. I knew what side I was on but had to decide if I had enough courage to let my feelings and beliefs be known. We are in a war--not a war like the two previous world wars--but a war of ideas and beliefs that is fueled by the world wide information system. There have been many casualties already and there will be many more. 

This is a good place for me to stop, but I'm going to give you the titles to a few of the books I've been reading and some of the other sources I've consulted. Should you choose to examine them, you will gain much knowledge but will have to decide what rings true for you. The Naked Communist by W. Cleon Skousen. It was used by the FBI for decades as a training tool in discovering how our government has been infiltrated and what the communist overall object still is. The Red Carpet and An Enemy Hath Done This by Ezra Taft Benson. Both of these men spent years working for the government and knew as early as the 1950s where our country was heading if we didn't start paying attention.

Fox News used to be far more unbiased before Murdoch took over earlier this year, but it's become much like the rest of the fake news outlets recently. That's why I prefer Newsmax and The Blaze. They both talk about important things that main stream media ignores. And for those of you who enjoy podcasts and a military approach as to what is happening worldwide, you should check out Restored Republic via GCR. You'll know you're in the right place when you see a picture of President Trump rescuing two babies. 

Stay safe and keep the faith. Things are unfolding the way God intends. 

Disrupted 4th of July

My thoughts were all gathered to write a post on Monday morning but my body had other plans. I'll tell you about that later. While I'm a day late expressing some of my most recent thoughts about the 4th of July, I still believe that some of us need an attitude adjustment when it comes to the birth of our country and what it really means to be an American who honors the flag and the Constitution and Bill of Rights that were meant to maintain the freedoms so many of our ancestors died to give us. How much we owe them for their sacrifices and their willingness to give all so their posterities could have what many of us take for granted and seem intent on losing all in the name of social and political progress.

How I honor and love my faithful, strong and committed ancestors. They were not wealthy or powerful individuals who drew great masses to their ideas. They were simple, hardworking farmers and small business owners who struggled to put food on their tables and pay their bills. Many of them lost every material possession more than once because people took objection to what they believed. They were driven from their homes with nothing but the clothes on their backs and what they could carry in their arms, and they lost family members and loved ones along the way as they struggled to find a new place to call home. Like many groups of people we read about in the scriptures, their faith in God was strong. They knew he would guide and protect them as long as they did not deny the truths they had been given. And even if their lives were lost, they had the inner knowledge that their obedience would eventually be rewarded in the life to come.

Perhaps that's why I am drawn to genealogical research so much. I love learning about my ancestors and while life histories do not go back very far, I love to trace different family lines and see where people came from and where they ended up. Some of my lines go back to before the birth of Jesus Christ. I have family in South Africa, dozens of European countries, Canada and Australia. I'm sure I will eventually be able to trace branches around the world. How excited I am to meet each one of them some day and learn their stories. My only real claim to any fame is being related to President Woodrow Wilson on my material family line. But as simple as my own life is, I hope I can make each of them proud of me in some way. 

From many of the news reports touting the events of yesterday, Americans in general are feeling less patriotic each year and are becoming very vocal about it. Celebrations were down in nearly every community and the violence didn't take a day off. All that is happening in a country where everyone once stood for the flag, sang the national anthem with enthusiasm, attended Independence Day parades, studied the Constitution at school and was given a more correct accounting of history troubles my heart and brings tears to my eyes because despite all the turmoil, disregard for civil liberty and downright evilness that is so rampant in our society, we still live in the greatest country on earth that provides us the most freedoms. This country was preserved for the final days before the Savior's return to earth. It was a new land of complete freedom from tyranny and oppression. But most important for me, it was a place of religious freedom where people could worship God, live by his commandments and enjoy every blessing available as long as they were willing to work for what they needed and wanted and fight to maintain everyone's freedom. 

While our founding fathers were not perfect--as none of us are--I believe they were great and brilliant men God ordained to come to earth to design a government that was meant to preserve every liberty that is being stolen from us today by men and women who love power, money and personal indulgence more than living by any of the laws that made this country a true world power that was honored and respected by other nations. I love to see people in positions of influence who are taking a stand against the evils that are meant to destroy our society and often wish I was half so brave. But like so many people of my generation, the fear-peddling that is meant to stop us from expressing how we feel is a little daunting.

Still, my heart is filled with gratitude and love for the country I will always call home, even though I can't express my inner feelings to all of the people I love because they have bought in to so many of the misguided ideologies that cause me to tremble and shake because they are nothing less than a fulfillment of prophesy. Like many other Christians, I pray for the Savior's return, but God is in charge of that. My only recourse is to stay as close to him as possible and stand with others who share similar beliefs. Regardless of what we may be required to face before our lives are over, I want to be on his side when I pass through the veil.

So how has that changed my view of July 4th? I didn't do any outward celebrating, but I did spend some time reading about our founding fathers and the importance of not having our constitution rewritten or completely done away with like so many people in power seemed determined to do. I know it is hanging by a very thin thread right now, but it was inspired of God and our nation is only failing because so many of our people have turned their backs on him. I also spent some time in my back yard marveling at the beautiful variety of flowers God has created and looking up at the majestic mountains to the east of my home. I thought about all the blessings I have that are a direct result of living in America and knowing that God will prevail. 

My wakeup call for another reevaluation came on Sunday night. The muscle in my right arm was hurting so much I couldn't sleep. It's been doing that for almost nine months now, but I'd been avoiding seeing a doctor because I would only be told to quit digging in my yard and doing other things I have a real passion for. About one in the morning I got this crushing pain in the center of my chest. It wasn't like the normal indigestion that always gave me a start. It came on without warning, radiated to my shoulder, and lasted for several minutes before stopping as suddenly as it began. Whatever was going on had gotten my attention, but the pain in my shoulder left at the same time the intense pain in my chest did so I just let the sleep come.

Since I have a long history of heart problems and am under the care of a cardiologist, I figured it might be wise to see what was going on. So I headed straight to urgent care the next morning and asked to see the doctor. When I told the receptionist what was going on she told me I needed to go to an emergency room because they weren't equipped to deal with things that could be so potentially life threatening. I was no longer I pain, just a heaviness in my chest and some nausea and dizziness that was making me very uncomfortable. 

There was a hospital less than a block away, but I wasn't sure my insurance would cover a visit there and my doctors were at the hospital twenty to thirty minutes away, depending on the timing of the lights. Being my very independent self, I drove myself down the freeway and along busy city streets praying all the way that I wouldn't cause an accident. There were only four people ahead of me in the emergency waiting room. I felt like a fool for not just letting nature take its course but it was a little late to leave once I had told the young man behind the desk why I had come.

I was amazed at the speed with which the specialists began working on me but was only told that I was lucky it hadn't gotten really busy yet. An ECG was taken and a few minutes later I was put in a room and told to strip to the waist. It had been 40 years since I had been in an emergency room, but I tried to concentrate on the book I'd brought with me to read. Not unexpectedly my blood pressure was much higher than anyone wanted it to be, and I didn't like having all my vital functions monitored, but the first real pain came when my blood was being drawn for the test that would show if I'd had a heart attack. An IV had to be inserted and the student who was learning how to do it nicked something when she tried to push the needle further into the vein. I didn't let my displeasure show in any way but was very glad when her supervisor took over. 

While the blood test was being run, I had two chest e-rays and was given a nice warm blanket. When the doctor finally came back she said the enzyme detecting a heart attack wasn't there but the marker indicating a blood clot in my lungs was so she was ordering a CT scan of my chest. That was a little unnerving but it came back clear, other than the discovery of gall stones--something very common in women over 40 but rare in men. I felt blessed but very foolish for wasting so much time in the ER room, even though I knew my double insurance would cover the costs. It was at that point that I asked her about my arm. I think she was a little worried about the length of time it had been bothering me because she ordered another e-ray to make sure the bone was okay. 

Four hours later I was ready to go home and very grateful for having such a kind and caring doctor--one I wished I could see on a regular basis since I often feel my doctor of record isn't all that great and his bedside manner leaves something to be desired. She took the time to really listen and answer any questions. To help assuage my feeling foolish for responding to a false alarm she told me that most of the people who come to the ER with a possible heart attack are fine, but it's always best to listen to our bodies when something unexpected and unexplainable is going on, especially when we have a history of heart disease in our family and have are seeing a cardiologist on a regular basis.

She hadn't found any indication of bone cancer which she had suspected and she was confident the ongoing pain was nothing more serious than bursitis that could be easily treated with cold compresses and Aleve--less disruptive to the kidneys than Ibuprofin. Before leaving she told me not to worry about the gall stones unless I had another possible flair-up when I should consult a surgeon about taking them out. And if I started to pass one I would know it because the pain would be excruciating with nausea and throwing up. 

So a day I had planned to spend writing, reading and working more in my yard was spent in the emergency room where I was lucky enough not to have had a mild heart attack and where no blood clot was found in my lungs. I'm not excited about having gall stones, but at least I now know what's wrong with my arm and how to treat it without letting all the yard work go. And if I do have any more pain like what I had on Sunday night I have a better idea of what the culprit might be.

So despite all that is going on around me, along with my own human frailties and body that is aging more rapidly that I would like, there is much to be thankful for. I didn't hear from either of my children yesterday even after texting them and wishing them a fun 4th, but they're young and doing things with their families and friends as they should be this time in their lives. And their decisions in how they spend their time do not take away from the gratitude I feel for being born in a free country where I can live life on my own terms, as long as my actions do not infringe on those of anyone else. I have full confidence and trust in my Heavenly Father and know that things are unfolding as they should. My role is to stay strong to my beliefs while loving and serving others the way Christ did while he was here. For someday he will return and what a joyous time that will be for all who still remain here and for those of us who have gone before and are still his faith disciples.

Introspective Holidays

Holidays, even the most uncomplicated ones, are hard. Perhaps I'm only speaking for myself because most everyone I meet seems to love the hustle, bustle and often consternation associated with huge family dinners, trying to make everyone comfortable and happy and purchasing gifts or tokens of affection that won't immediately be returned for something else. I know most of you are thinking about Christmas, birthdays, Halloween, Valentine's Day and Easter, but we've had three very important ones the past month that have made me realize how pathetically sad my own life has become--Mother's Day, Memorial Day and Father's Day.

These special days bring little besides a huge lump to my heart and tears that can't be stopped from sliding down my cheeks at the most inopportune moments. Remembrances from the past bring to the foreground once again all I've missed by not being part of a family that was encouraged to spend time together and keep in touch once we had gone our separate ways. I suppose my latest bout of melancholia started on Friday when one of the men I work with told me that he and his wife were heading to Idaho again. They'd been there over Memorial Day to decorate graves and talk about good times from their childhood with siblings and friends. This time they were simply going to play board games and enjoy being together.

I haven't seen two of my siblings for nearly twenty years. Perhaps they would have come for my brother's memorial service if it hadn't been during Covid when flights were almost impossible to get and large gatherings were prohibited. I remember that time vividly because my brother's daughter from South Carolina drove all the way with her family so she could give her father's life history in a thirty minutes service on a cold and blustery November day at the cemetery a quarter of a mile away from the home daddy had built for us.  Sandon died the day after Thanksgiving alone in his room at the nursing home from a sudden heart attack. 

He had been badly burned a few years earlier when he fell into a fire pit while at a party and couldn't get out. The people he was with waited until they thought he wouldn't survive before throwing him in the back of his van and leaving it outside the emergency rooms doors at the local hospital. He was so badly burned and swollen that it took three days for him to be identified and transferred to the burn unit at the University of Utah. When I first saw him his head was swollen to twice its normal size and he was hardly recognizable. But he grasp my hand and despite my reluctance to be where I was watching him suffer I couldn't bring myself to leave the room as more dead skin was pulled from his body and he was given further burn treatments. I loved him dearly and had watched over him as best I could throughout his life because I have never gotten over being blamed for the accident that left him with lifelong mental and physical disabilities.

My one sister who lived there and had been responsible for overseeing his affairs let everyone know that quarantine rules meant only seven people would be allowed at his graveside service. She was not happy because his daughter was driving across country and bringing her entire family with her. I hadn't had much contact with my niece in decades, but she was the only one of six children who would even talk to her father after their parent's divorce and she had called the the day before Thanksgiving to tell me that someone wasn't right with him. When I relayed the message, I was told he was doing just fine.

I wanted desperately to go to the service, even knowing that it was a long drive over what could be some very bad roads and I wouldn't get to see his face, but how could I take the place of someone who was sacrificing so much to get there? I cried a lot after making that decision and telling my sister that one of my niece's children could take my place. My son was outraged when he heard what was being planned. No regulations had been set as to how many people could be out in the cold, fully masked to attend a memorial service. He believed my sister just wanted to be in control as she always did. He said I was going and he and his wife were taking me. We would stand on the outside the fence if necessary.

Knowing I was going to be there regardless of what had been said, my sister asked me to say a few words. I might have done so had it not been one of the saddest experiences of my life. There must have been thirty-five people present--separated into three distinct groups that wouldn't walk six feet to talk to each other. My brother's ex-wife and her children who had not spoken to their father in nearly twenty years clustered together  away from the tent that had been set up for family. My two sisters who lived in town and even got to see him before the casket lid was closed sat underneath the tent with members of their families. I was terrified to go near them because I knew I wasn't welcome so I stood with my son and daughter-in-law and a couple of other people I didn't know. 

I was having a very emotional time, especially after learning that my niece had been in town the night before when my sisters went to the mortuary, but they hadn't told her that she was allowed to see him too. This sweet young woman was as broken-hearted as I was. She had been estranged from her family since the day she chose to be part of her father's life, while everyone else chose to keep on hating him. After some not so gentle persuasion I sat underneath the tent out of respect for my brother and listened to my niece give a beautiful life sketch, but I wasn't encouraged to say anything so I kept quiet. I couldn't have expressed what was in my heart anyway when there were so many uncharitable feelings floating around, but God gave me the courage to speak to most everyone before leaving the cemetery.

That experience brought back with undiluted clarity what happened the day my mother died nearly twenty years earlier. I had gone over to her house after work knowing that all of my siblings were coming since she was in the final stage before succumbing to cancer. A different niece met me at the door. She was in tears because she had been there the entire day and no one had invited her to go into grandma's bedroom to say goodbye, not even her mother. I took her arm and moved her in front of me down the hallway. The room was full so we both stood at the foot of the bed for a few minutes. There wasn't time for either of us to say much because three of my sisters--the two who had been at my brother's service and my youngest one--told the rest of us to leave because mother needed some rest. 

Another sister and I followed our two brothers into the back yard. There we talked and paced for over three hours before we were told to come back. Mother was dead. She'd been cleaned up and was wearing one of her prettiest nightgowns, but we had been excluded from her final moments. I couldn't wrap my head around the cruel insensitivity, but it was far from being the first time. Sandon and I had only been allowed to see her for a few specified minutes each week since her diagnosis while our two sisters got to spent every day and night with her.

When I told mother that twenty minutes every Monday night while my one sister was gone wasn't time enough, she just told me that she was doing what her caregivers wanted. But she had a job for me. She wanted me to type all my grandmother's short stories and readings and put them in book form so all my siblings could have them. That was a monumental task since many of them were handwritten and some not even finished, but I did it in record time and had binders ready for everyone specified before her death. I wish I could say that my time with her increased after my pleading, but I can only recall one short conversation where we talked about  Sandon's accident. She said she didn't remember telling me it was my fault but she was in a state of shock and could very well have.

As I'm sure you can tell by now, the dynamics in our family were not healthy. As adults we children were not encouraged to talk to each other. Mother wanted to be the disseminator of information and decide who needed to know what. And since many of us were scared of her, and busy with our own lives, we didn't rock the proverbial boat. It was different then anyway because calling long distance was cost-prohibitive and most of us were too poor to take a trip to see anyone. But the sorrow I feel over not being part of a loving and connected family is very real.

I guess that's why these past few weeks are always so hard each year. It's starts with Mother's Day and knowing that my own mother may have loved me, but she didn't appear to like me and was not capable of showing strong positive emotion. My father was somewhat different from what I can remember. He was tall and thin--a real cowboy who loved riding his horse and announcing or clowning at rodeos. His hands were strong and his heart willing to support and care for his large family. But his grief over the accident where his own little son was so severely injured must have been almost impossible to bear.

How I envy families where the love is strong and siblings actually like spending time together. But I've had to accept that some things will have to wait until the next life to be resolved. I want to be with my family forever. I know it's possible but have no idea how it will happen since we can go years without contact in this life and no one seems to care. 

There's one plot left in that cemetery in Idaho where my parents, my brother and two brother-in-laws have been laid to rest. My two sisters will be placed beside their husbands when their missions in this life are over. Daddy purchased eight plots before my youngest sister was born, and I know he felt good about having a resting place for his wife and all his children. And while I've always been grateful to have a designated spot for my physical body when my spirit leaves it behind, I'm not sure that's where I want to be anymore. Regardless of the fact that it's already been paid for, two siblings spots have already been filled with someone else and my son says he wants me closer to where he is.

Not that it's really going to matter, except for knowing where my body is, but I do need to be making a few permanent decisions. That includes finishing my life history that is so painful to write only bits and pieces now exist. However, if I want my posterity to understand why I am more than a little messed up, but a true peacemaker at heart, I need to take that journey through my past one more time. Perhaps I will see things somewhat differently than I once did and my compassion and understanding will show through. 

I really want to rid myself of the anger, jealousy and judgment that has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. I want to see others as God and my Savior do. There is a bit of divinity in even the vilest of sinners because they were created by Heavenly Parents who love without condition. I think I felt that way more yesterday than I have for some time as fathers were honored at church and I thought about how much I missed mine and how different my life may have been had he been allowed to live past my thirteenth birthday. But everything happens for a reason and we were not sent to earth to indulge every desire. We are here to learn, grow and develop into people who are prepared to return to their heavenly home.

And just so you know, I sent a Happy Father's Day text to the man I've been writing about. He didn't respond, but I decided that I would only be hurting myself if I didn't since I've sent one for the past four years. I don't know what's in his heart because he won't tell me. But maybe it's better that way. I'm trying to stay focused on the light, and he's a long away from doing that right now. More about that later, but it's time to get on with my day. Folding clothes and running errands await me.