I know that everything created by God has a purpose in this Garden we call Earth.
Maggots eat dead flesh & fecal matter which can contain deadly bacteria and they grow up to become adult flies, who lay more eggs and create more maggots. Spiders eat flies. Scorpions eat spiders. (I have NO idea what eats scorpions, but I'd like to have a few of them...maybe?) Not sure what benefit rats & mice have, but snakes eat rats & mice, and I think that's cool because I hate rats & mice more than I hate snakes...except for venomous snakes, and king snakes eat them. Badgers and hawks, ferrets and swine eat snakes. Then bigger, faster animals and fowl eat them. Mountain lions, wolves & coyotes eat whatever they can find and man kills them so the maggots can eat. Man also eats deer, rabbit, beef, swine, lamb, etc.
Then there are the plants and trees and grasses and roots. Some are edible, some are medicinal, some make us feel better than we do...those are usually illegal...Some are used for warmth, for covering, for tools, for storage. Others are used for coloring and scent, beauty and comfort.
Every animal & fowl, including man, has a special place in the garden. Some live better in the north, some in the south, still others in the east and others still in the west. Some are made for the desert, and others are made for the sea. Some are made for the plains, while others are made for the mountains. Some live exclusively in the dense forest. Some live exclusively in the swamps.
But everything God created has a place in this Garden. Everything.
There is even a place in the Garden for evil...For without evil, there would be no indicator of good. There would be no scale to measure and there would be no true balance in life.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Friday, December 2, 2011
Crazy Night, Scary Morning...
What a crazy night Thursday was! What a scary morning Friday was!!!
I dreamed the entire time I slept. I believe I dreamt about everyone I know, and then some, and yet I can't recall exactly what the dream was about. Just that it exhausted me.
And then, I awoke choking and trying to get air. My wheezing was loud, sounded much like an ocean fog horn, and it scares the living hell out of me when this happens.
This hasn't happened since March, so my inhaler was not easily accessible, but it really wouldn't have mattered because there was no air coming in or getting out.
This feeling is REAL! It's FEAR, Panic, almost hysteria...until I can finally fight and struggle enough to get a tiny bit of air out, then slowly back in.
Because I am writing this almost 24 hours later, will prove that I did manage to overcome those blocked airways...But it ruined my day. Always does.
It drains me...one, from the intense fear of choking to death, and the other because it is so physically draining to my body.
I hate being vulnerable and I hate being helpless even more...
I dreamed the entire time I slept. I believe I dreamt about everyone I know, and then some, and yet I can't recall exactly what the dream was about. Just that it exhausted me.
And then, I awoke choking and trying to get air. My wheezing was loud, sounded much like an ocean fog horn, and it scares the living hell out of me when this happens.
This hasn't happened since March, so my inhaler was not easily accessible, but it really wouldn't have mattered because there was no air coming in or getting out.
This feeling is REAL! It's FEAR, Panic, almost hysteria...until I can finally fight and struggle enough to get a tiny bit of air out, then slowly back in.
Because I am writing this almost 24 hours later, will prove that I did manage to overcome those blocked airways...But it ruined my day. Always does.
It drains me...one, from the intense fear of choking to death, and the other because it is so physically draining to my body.
I hate being vulnerable and I hate being helpless even more...
Saturday, November 12, 2011
My Dryden, Texas Home...
I long for the quiet solitude of the remoteness of my true home...Where I can feel the Voice of God upon the wind as it stirs the desert grasses, bends the thorny branches of the mesquite and sweeps the dust across the land for miles...Where I can stand, looking out over a draw and miles beyond, seeing nothing, yet seeing so very much...Where the white hawk takes flight, flying low before me, making eye contact as it glides by in search of it's next meal...Where the sun rises on any given morning, painting the Eastern sky as only the Hand of God can do, taking my breath away while instilling me with promises of yet another day to live, to love, to laugh, to hope...Where the sun slowly settles in the West, as God's Hand paints another masterpiece that reminds me that He is still in control, and blessing me with the knowledge that He gave me yet another day to live on this earth...Where the night skies are filled with a million stars and the Milky Way reminds me of just how big my God truly is...Where the wind lies down at night to rest, soft breezes caressing my tired body to sleep, like a mother comforting her child...
It is a lonely place, yet I never feel alone there. It is a place I feel I am supposed to be...I love to arrive there, always hate to leave...and when I am done with this body and my life on this earth is complete, I pray my ashes will be scattered across this land by the wind that I love so deeply!
It is a lonely place, yet I never feel alone there. It is a place I feel I am supposed to be...I love to arrive there, always hate to leave...and when I am done with this body and my life on this earth is complete, I pray my ashes will be scattered across this land by the wind that I love so deeply!
Friday, November 11, 2011
Battling myself...
Anger. Rage, Frustration. Aggravation. Irritation.
Equals...
STRESS!
Not always sure which way to go with it, and I can't run away from it, so I fight. Back me in a corner, and like a wounded dog, I'm gonna bite, even the very hand that might be trying to help me.
I know this is wrong. I wish it were not so. But it is my most basic instinct. Not something I seem to have much control over, as I've yet to gain control over it after all these years of reacting.
I'm not a bad person. I don't walk around all day seeking what person to inflict evil upon. I have a conscience. I have a heart. I do have compassion.
Yet, wound me and my bite is truly worse than any bark or growl I might utter.
I end up eating a diet which consists mainly of crow. It is not a meal I favor, yet one I've grown so used to, I resign myself to the knowledge that it is my staple, and will continue to be so for as long as I allow myself to fall victim in a corner.
I pray for help from my God. I pray for forgiveness. I pray for positive growth and maturity, a heart ruled by love and compassion instead of a heart oppressed by hurt, filled with anger, retaliatory in rage.
For I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that unless God intervenes and heals me, this 'STRESS' will most surely kill me...
Equals...
STRESS!
Not always sure which way to go with it, and I can't run away from it, so I fight. Back me in a corner, and like a wounded dog, I'm gonna bite, even the very hand that might be trying to help me.
I know this is wrong. I wish it were not so. But it is my most basic instinct. Not something I seem to have much control over, as I've yet to gain control over it after all these years of reacting.
I'm not a bad person. I don't walk around all day seeking what person to inflict evil upon. I have a conscience. I have a heart. I do have compassion.
Yet, wound me and my bite is truly worse than any bark or growl I might utter.
I end up eating a diet which consists mainly of crow. It is not a meal I favor, yet one I've grown so used to, I resign myself to the knowledge that it is my staple, and will continue to be so for as long as I allow myself to fall victim in a corner.
I pray for help from my God. I pray for forgiveness. I pray for positive growth and maturity, a heart ruled by love and compassion instead of a heart oppressed by hurt, filled with anger, retaliatory in rage.
For I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that unless God intervenes and heals me, this 'STRESS' will most surely kill me...
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Texas Parks & Wildlife Department Game Warden Abuse of Power
Monday, November 7, 2011
Jennifer Chandler
Larry Chandler
Permanent address:
Kingsland, Texas 78639
Secondary home address:
Larry & Jennifer Chandler Property
Dryden, Texas
To The Honorable Judge Corina Castro
P.O. Box 313
Sanderson, Texas 79848
Phone: 432-345-2341
As pertaining to citations numbered: 1013484 (Stannard) to Jennifer Chandler and 1012938 (Aguilar) to Larry Chandler, issued November 06, 2011.
My story:
Before daylight on Saturday, November 05, 2011, I woke my husband up so that he could go hunting. Our plan was that once our 10 year old son awoke, I would head down to Larry’s deer stand where he and I would change places, with Larry going back to camp to be with our 10 year old and allow me time to hunt.
After he left, I walked south a few hundred feet and squatted down near a mesquite bush/tree to watch our protein feeder. I was carrying my 223 Magnum rifle. As the dusky dawn begin turning to light, I watched three bucks walk up and begin to feed on the cotton seed at the protein feeder. A little after daylight, not sure of the exact time, a rifle shot was fired. A few minutes later, I heard the 8mm. I eased up and looked toward my husband’s stand with the binoculars, then walked back up toward the camp, veering right to walk about 100’ down the road toward the stand. A time lapse of between 5 and 10 minutes had passed, when I heard the 2nd shot from the 8mm. I stood there watching Larry’s stand and within seconds, I saw his door open. He could see me and waved, I waved back. Instead of going to where the deer was, he came back to camp for me. He said he had shot a buck and needed me to help him load it in the ‘Rhino’. We could see our older son walking back to camp, so we went back to camp to find our 10 year old still sleeping. I woke him enough to tell him that I was ‘going with Dad to his stand and (his older brother) was on his way back to camp.’ He mumbled an aggravated ‘Okay!”, pulled the covers over his head and went back to sleep.
On the way to the downed deer, Larry told me that he had shot the buck in the shoulder a few feet from the feeder. The buck didn’t go down immediately, but staggered around a few feet, before falling down and kicking up dust for several minutes. He said as he watched that spot, waiting for the deer to still, it suddenly popped it’s head up and he said that he thought, “Oh, no! He’s not dead yet!” and that is when he aimed for the head shot, which was his 2nd shot, to bring the buck down.
When Larry and I arrived at the feeder, I saw the body of a buck lying against a mesquite bush. As I was walking toward the buck, I stopped at a pool of frothy lung blood as well as pieces of lung tissue. Another two foot I found a smaller pool of lung blood with a larger piece of lung tissue. However, when I stepped to the downed buck, all I saw was a bullet wound to the head and an exit wound from the neck. I was surprised that the 8mm had left such a small exit wound as it has not in the past been normally so. I looked back at the blood pools with the lung tissue, then back at the downed deer and I told my husband, “There’s another deer out here.”
He stopped and looked at me and the look on his face was pure shock. He repeated what he had told me on the way to the downed buck, but I helped him roll the downed buck over and there were NO shoulder wounds, no other wounds that could account for the lung tissue. He became upset to the point of shaking and because I know that his health isn’t great and his eyesight is failing, I made a judgment call that was morally right, but would turn out to be legally wrong. I told him that I would put one of my buck tags on the downed deer.
He argued with me and told me that I couldn’t do that, but I refused to listen to him and before he probably realized what I was doing, I had tagged the deer with my tag. Because I have not hunted or held a hunting license since the mid to late 80’s, and because I had failed to wear my glasses, I did not read the fine print on the tag that says the date must be cut out as I was struggling enough trying to figure out the dates. I simply inked it in like we were allowed to do years ago.
There was NO force from my husband to do this. I did it because I saw how upset he was and did not wish to see him so.
At this point, though, he was still not 100% convinced that he had actually shot two deer and became a bit aggravated at me for tagging the buck so quickly. He felt sure that once he cleaned the buck he would find evidence that it did indeed have two bullet wounds.
It did not and he ended up even more upset that earlier.
My older son and I returned to the feeder and looked for the other deer for several hours, but found no blood trail past about 20’ from the original large pool of blood and tissue. The deer had zig-zagged, appearing to head to a small draw on the far eastern side of our property. We followed every trail, having to stop at the fence that marks our eastern property boundary. We looked in every thicket we could get in to, around every single bush and we found absolutely nothing. No blood, no deer, nothing.
My husband and I went back down there late that evening and again Sunday morning. We still found no deer and no sign of a wounded deer.
End of my story.
Sunday, November 06, 2011, just before noon, Game Wardens Stannard and Aguilar showed up and the now issued citations are evidence of their presence.
Mine for “Allowing another to hunt under my license” and Larry’s “Hunt under another license”.
My deer was confiscated as evidence, apparently donated to the starving game wardens of Terrell County. My husband was threatened with jail, confiscation of all our firearms and ice chests. Apparently we are supposed to be thankful for their leniency because we allowed them to sadistically humiliate us as they attempted to pit our children against us, as well as us against each other.
I just wonder how many children and parents they cite on youth weekend when daddy’s and momma’s actually hold, point & fire the weapon that brings down a nice buck or doe for Little Johnny or Little Betsy who can’t even lift a gallon milk jug from the refrigerator, let alone lift and hold steady a rifle or shotgun that kicks? Then, Pa or Ma fills out the kids tag, securing it to the deer, even having the kids face and name in the local paper as having killed said deer…when anyone with any degree of intelligence, especially anyone who has ever raised children, knows that Little Johnny or Little Betsy did not shoot that deer! But that’s okay because it allows the TPWD to teach our youngest kids that it’s okay to tell a ‘tiny white lie’ because it’s teaching them ‘be responsible, our next generation of hunters.’ Talk about double standards!
I will add this, not because it will matter to you, but since this letter will be made public as soon as it is completed, I will exert my right to freedom of speech and our story needs to be heard.
My 10 year old son was originally my grandson. He was coerced, bribed and intimidated so that his abuser could abuse him at will. Because I knew something was amiss, long story short, his abuser now sits in a prison cell in Huntsville, Texas. After years of prayer, tears, sleepless nights, physical tolls and thousands of dollars, he is now our legal son and he is SAFE, PROTECTED and LOVED! For anyone, regardless of what kind of badge they wear or gun they carry, to insinuate that my husband or I would EVER harm this child is not only ludicrous and insane, it is UNFORGIVABLE! Aguilar told my husband hat he had better not hear of our child being harmed or retaliated against for ‘telling the truth’.
Furthermore, for ANY person wearing a badge and calling themselves ANY type of law enforcement official to bribe and coerce a 10 year old child when said child remembers that this type of manipulation only leads to pain, horror and broken promises, as far as I am concerned, (as well as many Child Advocacy Centers across the state), that person needs to get out of law enforcement entirely, receive specialized training in how to deal with MINOR children or be thoroughly reprimanded!
*Aguilar supposedly ‘found’ my son behind our house, and begin questioning him about who killed said deer. My son was told by Aguilar that if he told the truth, Aguilar WOULD GIVE HIM A BADGE. My son also told me that he thinks Aguilar said, “Tell me who really shot the deer. It was your Dad wasn’t it?” Minutes later, my son was crying and asked me, “Are you and Dad going to jail?” I asked him why he would say that and he replied with a shaky shrug, “I think someone said it.”
I also saw Aguilar behind our house with my son and the look on my son’s face was one I’d seen before and it was one of fear. I looked up at Aguilar and he ‘scolded’ me, accusing me of giving my son the ‘look’ that I was giving Aguilar. Aguilar read that ‘look’ as my anger at my son for ‘telling the truth’, as well as my guilt. I REALLY wish he could have read that look for what it was!!! From what I remember upon studying the Texas Penal Code several years ago, a minor, especially one under 12 years of age, must have legal representation and/or another adult present any time said child is interrogated. And it was an interrogation as we were all sequestered and not allowed to speak with each other.
And the saddest, most hateful part of this is that Aguilar NEVER gave my son any badge! My son even told me today, “Mom, I guess the real liar was that game warden guy.” And I told my son, “Remember, just because a person carries a gun and wears a badge doesn’t mean you can trust them or believe them.”
My husband was told that he was ’selfish’ for ‘making me use my tag‘. I will defend this by saying that no one forced me to use my tag. I did it in opposition to my husband’s wishes.
My husband was told that the NEXT time ’they’ come out, we had better have EVERYTHING right or else. In other words, ‘they’ will be looking for reasons to harass, embarrass and fine us. Well, at least we now know the continual hell that will be meted out to our family, especially since we will eventually make Terrell County our permanent home!
Concerning the first deer that was shot and lost: Wardens told my husband he HAD to find that deer and tag it. When told that we had looked repeatedly, stopping only at property lines, Wardens said that we HAD to find and TAG that deer. When asked if they could help us, they refused saying that they were too busy. Aside from trespassing onto adjoining properties, we have exhausted all attempts at finding this deer.
My husband and I ARE NOT poachers. We ARE NOT illegal hunters. We ARE NOT lawbreakers. We ARE NOT day-leasers, but property owners as Terrell County tax rolls will prove. We make mistakes because we are human. Last year Stannard gave my husband a warning citation for not filling in a single line on his hunting license. Before Aguilar decided to find a crime where none truly existed, Stannard was in process of writing me a warning for inking in the dates on the tags, instead of cutting them out with my knife. Neither of these instances were ‘crimes’, but simple mistakes that hundreds of hunters make every hunting season. I know because I asked hunters in other counties, as well as a former game warden this very evening.
Just for the record, and because said game wardens insinuated that because I did not hunt last year I was incapable of hunting and killing a deer at all, they are both terribly mistaken! I begin hunting with my mother when I was about four or five, though I was closer to eight before I was allowed to actually carry & fire a weapon. Later, I would also hunt with my grandfather, aunt, brothers and husband. I have shot numerous poisonous snakes, wild hogs, coyotes, raccoons, possums and rabbits. Small game, of course, but something to brag about considering that the target’s heads were smaller…and yet my aim has most always been true and my prey does not get up and walk away. Many women, myself included, are far more accurate in marksmanship than men. I’ve allowed my husband to do all of the hunting for several years now as it satisfies his male ego to be able to provide meat for our table. Unfortunately, as I mentioned earlier, his health is declining, as is his eye sight, and I am not sure how much longer he will be able to provide meat for our table. THAT is the reason I bought my license, with HIS money I might add, this year.
As for our ten year old child saying that ‘Dad shot that deer’. He truly has no way of knowing who shot that deer. None at all. He was asleep in camp and only knows that Dad kills deer and Mom kills varmints. If I arrived in camp dragging a deer behind me while my husband stayed in camp tending to the ten year old, the ten year old would still assume and say that ‘Dad HAD to kill that deer because Mom only kills snakes.’
This entire chaotic episode could have been handled with far less drama. Aguilar was NOT looking for the truth, but to intimidate and bully. Despite any guilt or blamelessness, truths or untruths, morally right or governmental illegalities; coercion, bribery and intimidation of a child is totally unacceptable and completely unforgivable. Their goal was to write a citation, regardless of the reason. I think that on their next visit, which they have promised, if they fail to find issue with our hunting license, I’m sure they will find issue with the way I balance my checkbook, my gender or even my weight! Therefore, from this date forward, I will be chronicling their visits and posting them publicly.
The TRUTH of this entire matter is this…I am publicly admitting to tagging a 9 point buck, shot on our property in Dryden, Texas on the morning of November 05, 2011. I am publicly admitting to loving and protecting my husband and my children by admitting to a wrong in order to appease a couple of overzealous, bullying game wardens. And, I am publicly admitting that the truth is often stranger and much more complicated than fiction and often unable to be comprehended by the simpler minded within our society.
Finally, I have actively been trying to sell my home in Llano County AND in constant contact with Kenn Norris since March of this year as we hope to buy a permanent home within the town of Sanderson, Texas. After this episode, my husband was wanting to let our land go and never ever step foot again in Terrell County thinking these two wardens represent the types of people found in this area. But I think moving to Sanderson, Texas would be absolutely perfect as it will allow me the opportunity to blog about so many things, including my family’s experience with your game wardens.
My husband and I are at your mercy.
Sincerely,
Jennifer Chandler
Jennifer Chandler
Larry Chandler
Permanent address:
Kingsland, Texas 78639
Secondary home address:
Larry & Jennifer Chandler Property
Dryden, Texas
To The Honorable Judge Corina Castro
P.O. Box 313
Sanderson, Texas 79848
Phone: 432-345-2341
As pertaining to citations numbered: 1013484 (Stannard) to Jennifer Chandler and 1012938 (Aguilar) to Larry Chandler, issued November 06, 2011.
My story:
Before daylight on Saturday, November 05, 2011, I woke my husband up so that he could go hunting. Our plan was that once our 10 year old son awoke, I would head down to Larry’s deer stand where he and I would change places, with Larry going back to camp to be with our 10 year old and allow me time to hunt.
After he left, I walked south a few hundred feet and squatted down near a mesquite bush/tree to watch our protein feeder. I was carrying my 223 Magnum rifle. As the dusky dawn begin turning to light, I watched three bucks walk up and begin to feed on the cotton seed at the protein feeder. A little after daylight, not sure of the exact time, a rifle shot was fired. A few minutes later, I heard the 8mm. I eased up and looked toward my husband’s stand with the binoculars, then walked back up toward the camp, veering right to walk about 100’ down the road toward the stand. A time lapse of between 5 and 10 minutes had passed, when I heard the 2nd shot from the 8mm. I stood there watching Larry’s stand and within seconds, I saw his door open. He could see me and waved, I waved back. Instead of going to where the deer was, he came back to camp for me. He said he had shot a buck and needed me to help him load it in the ‘Rhino’. We could see our older son walking back to camp, so we went back to camp to find our 10 year old still sleeping. I woke him enough to tell him that I was ‘going with Dad to his stand and (his older brother) was on his way back to camp.’ He mumbled an aggravated ‘Okay!”, pulled the covers over his head and went back to sleep.
On the way to the downed deer, Larry told me that he had shot the buck in the shoulder a few feet from the feeder. The buck didn’t go down immediately, but staggered around a few feet, before falling down and kicking up dust for several minutes. He said as he watched that spot, waiting for the deer to still, it suddenly popped it’s head up and he said that he thought, “Oh, no! He’s not dead yet!” and that is when he aimed for the head shot, which was his 2nd shot, to bring the buck down.
When Larry and I arrived at the feeder, I saw the body of a buck lying against a mesquite bush. As I was walking toward the buck, I stopped at a pool of frothy lung blood as well as pieces of lung tissue. Another two foot I found a smaller pool of lung blood with a larger piece of lung tissue. However, when I stepped to the downed buck, all I saw was a bullet wound to the head and an exit wound from the neck. I was surprised that the 8mm had left such a small exit wound as it has not in the past been normally so. I looked back at the blood pools with the lung tissue, then back at the downed deer and I told my husband, “There’s another deer out here.”
He stopped and looked at me and the look on his face was pure shock. He repeated what he had told me on the way to the downed buck, but I helped him roll the downed buck over and there were NO shoulder wounds, no other wounds that could account for the lung tissue. He became upset to the point of shaking and because I know that his health isn’t great and his eyesight is failing, I made a judgment call that was morally right, but would turn out to be legally wrong. I told him that I would put one of my buck tags on the downed deer.
He argued with me and told me that I couldn’t do that, but I refused to listen to him and before he probably realized what I was doing, I had tagged the deer with my tag. Because I have not hunted or held a hunting license since the mid to late 80’s, and because I had failed to wear my glasses, I did not read the fine print on the tag that says the date must be cut out as I was struggling enough trying to figure out the dates. I simply inked it in like we were allowed to do years ago.
There was NO force from my husband to do this. I did it because I saw how upset he was and did not wish to see him so.
At this point, though, he was still not 100% convinced that he had actually shot two deer and became a bit aggravated at me for tagging the buck so quickly. He felt sure that once he cleaned the buck he would find evidence that it did indeed have two bullet wounds.
It did not and he ended up even more upset that earlier.
My older son and I returned to the feeder and looked for the other deer for several hours, but found no blood trail past about 20’ from the original large pool of blood and tissue. The deer had zig-zagged, appearing to head to a small draw on the far eastern side of our property. We followed every trail, having to stop at the fence that marks our eastern property boundary. We looked in every thicket we could get in to, around every single bush and we found absolutely nothing. No blood, no deer, nothing.
My husband and I went back down there late that evening and again Sunday morning. We still found no deer and no sign of a wounded deer.
End of my story.
Sunday, November 06, 2011, just before noon, Game Wardens Stannard and Aguilar showed up and the now issued citations are evidence of their presence.
Mine for “Allowing another to hunt under my license” and Larry’s “Hunt under another license”.
My deer was confiscated as evidence, apparently donated to the starving game wardens of Terrell County. My husband was threatened with jail, confiscation of all our firearms and ice chests. Apparently we are supposed to be thankful for their leniency because we allowed them to sadistically humiliate us as they attempted to pit our children against us, as well as us against each other.
I just wonder how many children and parents they cite on youth weekend when daddy’s and momma’s actually hold, point & fire the weapon that brings down a nice buck or doe for Little Johnny or Little Betsy who can’t even lift a gallon milk jug from the refrigerator, let alone lift and hold steady a rifle or shotgun that kicks? Then, Pa or Ma fills out the kids tag, securing it to the deer, even having the kids face and name in the local paper as having killed said deer…when anyone with any degree of intelligence, especially anyone who has ever raised children, knows that Little Johnny or Little Betsy did not shoot that deer! But that’s okay because it allows the TPWD to teach our youngest kids that it’s okay to tell a ‘tiny white lie’ because it’s teaching them ‘be responsible, our next generation of hunters.’ Talk about double standards!
I will add this, not because it will matter to you, but since this letter will be made public as soon as it is completed, I will exert my right to freedom of speech and our story needs to be heard.
My 10 year old son was originally my grandson. He was coerced, bribed and intimidated so that his abuser could abuse him at will. Because I knew something was amiss, long story short, his abuser now sits in a prison cell in Huntsville, Texas. After years of prayer, tears, sleepless nights, physical tolls and thousands of dollars, he is now our legal son and he is SAFE, PROTECTED and LOVED! For anyone, regardless of what kind of badge they wear or gun they carry, to insinuate that my husband or I would EVER harm this child is not only ludicrous and insane, it is UNFORGIVABLE! Aguilar told my husband hat he had better not hear of our child being harmed or retaliated against for ‘telling the truth’.
Furthermore, for ANY person wearing a badge and calling themselves ANY type of law enforcement official to bribe and coerce a 10 year old child when said child remembers that this type of manipulation only leads to pain, horror and broken promises, as far as I am concerned, (as well as many Child Advocacy Centers across the state), that person needs to get out of law enforcement entirely, receive specialized training in how to deal with MINOR children or be thoroughly reprimanded!
*Aguilar supposedly ‘found’ my son behind our house, and begin questioning him about who killed said deer. My son was told by Aguilar that if he told the truth, Aguilar WOULD GIVE HIM A BADGE. My son also told me that he thinks Aguilar said, “Tell me who really shot the deer. It was your Dad wasn’t it?” Minutes later, my son was crying and asked me, “Are you and Dad going to jail?” I asked him why he would say that and he replied with a shaky shrug, “I think someone said it.”
I also saw Aguilar behind our house with my son and the look on my son’s face was one I’d seen before and it was one of fear. I looked up at Aguilar and he ‘scolded’ me, accusing me of giving my son the ‘look’ that I was giving Aguilar. Aguilar read that ‘look’ as my anger at my son for ‘telling the truth’, as well as my guilt. I REALLY wish he could have read that look for what it was!!! From what I remember upon studying the Texas Penal Code several years ago, a minor, especially one under 12 years of age, must have legal representation and/or another adult present any time said child is interrogated. And it was an interrogation as we were all sequestered and not allowed to speak with each other.
And the saddest, most hateful part of this is that Aguilar NEVER gave my son any badge! My son even told me today, “Mom, I guess the real liar was that game warden guy.” And I told my son, “Remember, just because a person carries a gun and wears a badge doesn’t mean you can trust them or believe them.”
My husband was told that he was ’selfish’ for ‘making me use my tag‘. I will defend this by saying that no one forced me to use my tag. I did it in opposition to my husband’s wishes.
My husband was told that the NEXT time ’they’ come out, we had better have EVERYTHING right or else. In other words, ‘they’ will be looking for reasons to harass, embarrass and fine us. Well, at least we now know the continual hell that will be meted out to our family, especially since we will eventually make Terrell County our permanent home!
Concerning the first deer that was shot and lost: Wardens told my husband he HAD to find that deer and tag it. When told that we had looked repeatedly, stopping only at property lines, Wardens said that we HAD to find and TAG that deer. When asked if they could help us, they refused saying that they were too busy. Aside from trespassing onto adjoining properties, we have exhausted all attempts at finding this deer.
My husband and I ARE NOT poachers. We ARE NOT illegal hunters. We ARE NOT lawbreakers. We ARE NOT day-leasers, but property owners as Terrell County tax rolls will prove. We make mistakes because we are human. Last year Stannard gave my husband a warning citation for not filling in a single line on his hunting license. Before Aguilar decided to find a crime where none truly existed, Stannard was in process of writing me a warning for inking in the dates on the tags, instead of cutting them out with my knife. Neither of these instances were ‘crimes’, but simple mistakes that hundreds of hunters make every hunting season. I know because I asked hunters in other counties, as well as a former game warden this very evening.
Just for the record, and because said game wardens insinuated that because I did not hunt last year I was incapable of hunting and killing a deer at all, they are both terribly mistaken! I begin hunting with my mother when I was about four or five, though I was closer to eight before I was allowed to actually carry & fire a weapon. Later, I would also hunt with my grandfather, aunt, brothers and husband. I have shot numerous poisonous snakes, wild hogs, coyotes, raccoons, possums and rabbits. Small game, of course, but something to brag about considering that the target’s heads were smaller…and yet my aim has most always been true and my prey does not get up and walk away. Many women, myself included, are far more accurate in marksmanship than men. I’ve allowed my husband to do all of the hunting for several years now as it satisfies his male ego to be able to provide meat for our table. Unfortunately, as I mentioned earlier, his health is declining, as is his eye sight, and I am not sure how much longer he will be able to provide meat for our table. THAT is the reason I bought my license, with HIS money I might add, this year.
As for our ten year old child saying that ‘Dad shot that deer’. He truly has no way of knowing who shot that deer. None at all. He was asleep in camp and only knows that Dad kills deer and Mom kills varmints. If I arrived in camp dragging a deer behind me while my husband stayed in camp tending to the ten year old, the ten year old would still assume and say that ‘Dad HAD to kill that deer because Mom only kills snakes.’
This entire chaotic episode could have been handled with far less drama. Aguilar was NOT looking for the truth, but to intimidate and bully. Despite any guilt or blamelessness, truths or untruths, morally right or governmental illegalities; coercion, bribery and intimidation of a child is totally unacceptable and completely unforgivable. Their goal was to write a citation, regardless of the reason. I think that on their next visit, which they have promised, if they fail to find issue with our hunting license, I’m sure they will find issue with the way I balance my checkbook, my gender or even my weight! Therefore, from this date forward, I will be chronicling their visits and posting them publicly.
The TRUTH of this entire matter is this…I am publicly admitting to tagging a 9 point buck, shot on our property in Dryden, Texas on the morning of November 05, 2011. I am publicly admitting to loving and protecting my husband and my children by admitting to a wrong in order to appease a couple of overzealous, bullying game wardens. And, I am publicly admitting that the truth is often stranger and much more complicated than fiction and often unable to be comprehended by the simpler minded within our society.
Finally, I have actively been trying to sell my home in Llano County AND in constant contact with Kenn Norris since March of this year as we hope to buy a permanent home within the town of Sanderson, Texas. After this episode, my husband was wanting to let our land go and never ever step foot again in Terrell County thinking these two wardens represent the types of people found in this area. But I think moving to Sanderson, Texas would be absolutely perfect as it will allow me the opportunity to blog about so many things, including my family’s experience with your game wardens.
My husband and I are at your mercy.
Sincerely,
Jennifer Chandler
Monday, October 3, 2011
People say...
People say it can't be done.
I say it can, but it won't be easy.
People say that we'll have to give up everything as we know it.
I say we'll have to give up the things that make us lazy & spoiled, while learning how to live a more efficient, frugal lifestyle.
People say we'll miss social activities.
I say we miss them now.
People say we'll suffer as we need socialization.
I say very often, socialization is highly overrated.
People say we'll be very lonely in such a remote area.
I say that the loneliest place on earth is living in a city, surrounded by people at every direction, yet not having a single friend who cares if you live or you die.
People say it can't be done.
I say...WATCH US DO IT!!!
I say it can, but it won't be easy.
People say that we'll have to give up everything as we know it.
I say we'll have to give up the things that make us lazy & spoiled, while learning how to live a more efficient, frugal lifestyle.
People say we'll miss social activities.
I say we miss them now.
People say we'll suffer as we need socialization.
I say very often, socialization is highly overrated.
People say we'll be very lonely in such a remote area.
I say that the loneliest place on earth is living in a city, surrounded by people at every direction, yet not having a single friend who cares if you live or you die.
People say it can't be done.
I say...WATCH US DO IT!!!
Possible Changes Ahead
Very close to making a life changing decision concerning where our home will be. If it works out, I'll be using this blog to journal our new experience.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Wounds, Healing & Forgiveness
Every single time I share my testimony or a painful experience with a Christian, I am told that I need to forgive. They say they sense some deep unforgiveness within me and that I need to 'give it to God, let go and forgive'. This troubles me greatly as I have prayed through and gotten over, gotten past the grudge holding and KNOW in my heart that I have forgiven. But when I try to explain this, I am told that it is 'sensed' that I just have too much bitterness still and they 'feel' that I've not truly forgiven.
Well, let me explain something, once and for all...
Years ago my husband broke his ankle and he refused to go to the doctor. It healed, but it healed slowly. Who can say if it healed correctly or wrong, but it healed. A doctor even told him that about the only way to truly 'heal' a broken ankle was by surgery, screws and pins and that could often be more troublesome than allowing it to heal on it's own. But to this day, if he steps wrong or there is a sudden weather change, it hurts him. There are certain kinds of boots he can not wear or it tends to aggravate the old injury and sometimes after long walks & drives, that ankle swells. However, it is healed and he walks and he works. He can even run, but that ankle will always be weak and tender.
I had three babies, all by c-section. Each took me months to recover from; weeks for the incision to heal, months for the muscles to regain strength. Because the muscles had been severed, they will never again be as strong as they were before and to this day, that scar is sensitive. Scar tissue has formed and sometimes, if I move wrong, the pain is intense enough to take my breath away and make me cry. But, that incision is healed perfectly.
The same is true of wounds and hurts of our heart and mind.
Some are severe breaks. Some are deep stab wounds. Some are merely scratches and bruises. Sometimes the wound becomes infected and sometimes the wounds are aggravated by more woundings at the same site. Sometimes the wounds are picked at and sometimes they are just so deep that they must heal from the inside out before a protective scab can form, but often an ugly wide scar will remain. Regardless of the wound, each must go through a healing process and healing takes time.
However, no matter how well a wound heals, how invisible the scar might be, that area WILL ALWAYS BE SENSITIVE! It is just a fact of wounding, healing & scarring!
Just like my c-section scar. It healed beautifully twenty-two years ago, yet if I move wrong, or sneeze hard, the scar tissue pulls taunt and it feels as if I've ripped that incision open all over again!
That does not mean it has not healed. That does not mean that the wound is wide open. It is simply a fact of scar tissue.
The same is true with wounds of life.
I remember, with vivid detail, the wounds of my life. Some healed quickly and without any scarring. But others were never cleansed and never given time to heal before another wound was inflicted, and those wounds became infected, took longer to heal than they should have and left a very ugly scar...and the scar tissue still pulls taunt under the right circumstances, causing pain all over again. Of course, I know that the wound is healed, but the pain takes my breath away and causes me to remember the initial wound.
This does not mean that I have not forgiven. It simply means that my memory remains intact and it reminds me that there are areas of my life that will always be tender in order that I might have compassion for others suffering the same wounds and scars.
Perhaps the good thing about those who do not understand this thing about wounds, healing and scarring is that they themselves have not had to suffer wounds...The bad thing would be that they are in utter denial because we are all wounded to some degree. That is just a part of living this life.
Therefore, I am of the opinion that if I can love and pray for those who have caused my wounds, if my heart aches for the judgement they will one day suffer, then I HAVE most definitely FORGIVEN them...and it is only satan who pops his ugly head up to tell me I haven't forgiven in hopes that I will question my assurance and lie back down to wallow in the filthy mud that Jesus already cleaned up a long, long time ago!
Am I bitter?
Well, aren't we all a little bitter when we recall wounds of our past? I'm still a bit bitter when I remember falling down the steps and breaking 6 or 7 bones in my foot back in 2005! I was laid up all summer long and it hurt like the dickens. So yeah, I'm bitter about any injury I've ever suffered. But that's because I don't like pain of any sort. Doesn't mean I've not forgiven myself for not paying attention when I stepped wrong and fell down those stairs, just that I'm bitter recalling how careless I was at the time and how those bones sounded & felt when they broke!!!
Well, let me explain something, once and for all...
Years ago my husband broke his ankle and he refused to go to the doctor. It healed, but it healed slowly. Who can say if it healed correctly or wrong, but it healed. A doctor even told him that about the only way to truly 'heal' a broken ankle was by surgery, screws and pins and that could often be more troublesome than allowing it to heal on it's own. But to this day, if he steps wrong or there is a sudden weather change, it hurts him. There are certain kinds of boots he can not wear or it tends to aggravate the old injury and sometimes after long walks & drives, that ankle swells. However, it is healed and he walks and he works. He can even run, but that ankle will always be weak and tender.
I had three babies, all by c-section. Each took me months to recover from; weeks for the incision to heal, months for the muscles to regain strength. Because the muscles had been severed, they will never again be as strong as they were before and to this day, that scar is sensitive. Scar tissue has formed and sometimes, if I move wrong, the pain is intense enough to take my breath away and make me cry. But, that incision is healed perfectly.
The same is true of wounds and hurts of our heart and mind.
Some are severe breaks. Some are deep stab wounds. Some are merely scratches and bruises. Sometimes the wound becomes infected and sometimes the wounds are aggravated by more woundings at the same site. Sometimes the wounds are picked at and sometimes they are just so deep that they must heal from the inside out before a protective scab can form, but often an ugly wide scar will remain. Regardless of the wound, each must go through a healing process and healing takes time.
However, no matter how well a wound heals, how invisible the scar might be, that area WILL ALWAYS BE SENSITIVE! It is just a fact of wounding, healing & scarring!
Just like my c-section scar. It healed beautifully twenty-two years ago, yet if I move wrong, or sneeze hard, the scar tissue pulls taunt and it feels as if I've ripped that incision open all over again!
That does not mean it has not healed. That does not mean that the wound is wide open. It is simply a fact of scar tissue.
The same is true with wounds of life.
I remember, with vivid detail, the wounds of my life. Some healed quickly and without any scarring. But others were never cleansed and never given time to heal before another wound was inflicted, and those wounds became infected, took longer to heal than they should have and left a very ugly scar...and the scar tissue still pulls taunt under the right circumstances, causing pain all over again. Of course, I know that the wound is healed, but the pain takes my breath away and causes me to remember the initial wound.
This does not mean that I have not forgiven. It simply means that my memory remains intact and it reminds me that there are areas of my life that will always be tender in order that I might have compassion for others suffering the same wounds and scars.
Perhaps the good thing about those who do not understand this thing about wounds, healing and scarring is that they themselves have not had to suffer wounds...The bad thing would be that they are in utter denial because we are all wounded to some degree. That is just a part of living this life.
Therefore, I am of the opinion that if I can love and pray for those who have caused my wounds, if my heart aches for the judgement they will one day suffer, then I HAVE most definitely FORGIVEN them...and it is only satan who pops his ugly head up to tell me I haven't forgiven in hopes that I will question my assurance and lie back down to wallow in the filthy mud that Jesus already cleaned up a long, long time ago!
Am I bitter?
Well, aren't we all a little bitter when we recall wounds of our past? I'm still a bit bitter when I remember falling down the steps and breaking 6 or 7 bones in my foot back in 2005! I was laid up all summer long and it hurt like the dickens. So yeah, I'm bitter about any injury I've ever suffered. But that's because I don't like pain of any sort. Doesn't mean I've not forgiven myself for not paying attention when I stepped wrong and fell down those stairs, just that I'm bitter recalling how careless I was at the time and how those bones sounded & felt when they broke!!!
Friday, July 1, 2011
In defense of a small Texas town...
As I wander through this little world of mine, I am often perplexed at the arrogance and narrowmindedness of people. I've often found that this arrogance and narrowmindedness actually lends themselves to a better definition of complete and total stupidity!
One instance of this would be a small town...A small town that I have loved since I was a child. A town that seems to call for me, almost as if it is beckoning me to 'come home'.
Some years ago, this town was a thriving town, considering it's location. But as the years passed by and 'progress' happened, it has slowly dwindled.
There is a public school there. Some say it is great. Others say, not so much. Regardless, it isn't filled with gangster wanna-be's or big time drug dealers and the classrooms are small and manageable.
The rail road still travels through there and Amtrack has a Whistle Stop.
There is a bank, a post office, a court house, a couple of convenience stores, a feed store, a good dependable eatery, and a few other small places of business. But a metroplex it is not.
There is a nice park for the kids and an even better hiking trail to the top of a hill/mountain that overlooks the town. There is a quaint visitors center where a sweet lady can tell you just about anything factual you want to know about the area and the county. There is an RV park, a place to refill your propane bottles and there is a place that can work on your auto & tires. There are two real estate offices in the town as well.
There is a Hunter's Feast in the fall and a few other interesting gatherings throughout the year that can be fun for all and profitable for the town.
And there are some really wonderful people there...Unfortunately, not all of the wonderful people hold positions of leadership or status, which is a shame.
The largest convenience store & gas station is without a doubt the slowest, most aggravating convenience store I've ever had the displeasure of doing business with!
One of the realtors, while a kind and likable man, is also the least prompt businessman I've ever had to deal with!
A real estate agent once showed me a property & when said agent found out that I was a simple housewife and could offer neither big money or trade to the town, she was more or less done with me!
A business owner had a property I was interested in, but when I went to his business to inquire about it, he was busy shooting the bull with another person and never acknowledged my presence.
I recently sent another business owner an idea that would possibly help the town recieve good attention, since they are constantly saying they want tourism, and he scoffed at my idea. More or less said it was a silly idea & he wasn't interested in wide publicity for the town.
One person even told me, when I complained about the lack of prompt attention to a business matter, "We're a small town. We do things a lot slower in small towns than y'all do in big cities."
This struck me as hilarious because, you see, the town I grew up in, the town I often refer to as my 'home' was so small it wasn't even considered a town! Just a 'settlement'! But I well remember that if you called someone, they called you back immediately. If you walked into the store on the corner, they looked up and welcomed you or at the least, made eye contact with you. If you were new to the area, someone would stop in to welcome you. It might be your next door neighbor or the white haired ladies from the Baptist Church, but someone would take the time to say, "Welcome!" And if there was a 'happening', everyone called everyone else and got the word out. We wanted to be recognized & we liked as much piblicity as we could get!
So, as I ponder this subject, I find that this town might very well die, eventually, if these arrogant, selfserving people with their rude attitudes and lack of Texan-styled hospitality are allowed to represent this beautiful little town indefinitely.
If tourist passing through can not be waited on in a timely and polite manner, they will realize that they'd better stock up before leaving the big town and use their bank cards at the pumps.
If a realtor can not return your correspondence within 24 hours, regardless, then how in the heck can he sell properties?
If a realtor's agent isn't interested in your purchasing property because you aren't wealthy and can not or will not be bringing a business to the town, wouldn't that give anyone pause about relocating there to send their kids to a small, safe school?
If a 'leader' in the community was only interested in his chosen, and very limited, vocation in getting any word of this town, it's happenings & events out to the world, only because he fears it would cost him dollars in revenue, wouldn't that be selfserving and just a bit greedy? Especially if the proposed idea was free & had the ability to create more tourism for the town???
In closing, as crazy as it might sound, I would still like to one day be a resident of this town because I kind of have the feeling that they need an outspoken old woman like myself! I might not be able to change anything, but I guarantee you, I'd sure give 'em hell!!!
One instance of this would be a small town...A small town that I have loved since I was a child. A town that seems to call for me, almost as if it is beckoning me to 'come home'.
Some years ago, this town was a thriving town, considering it's location. But as the years passed by and 'progress' happened, it has slowly dwindled.
There is a public school there. Some say it is great. Others say, not so much. Regardless, it isn't filled with gangster wanna-be's or big time drug dealers and the classrooms are small and manageable.
The rail road still travels through there and Amtrack has a Whistle Stop.
There is a bank, a post office, a court house, a couple of convenience stores, a feed store, a good dependable eatery, and a few other small places of business. But a metroplex it is not.
There is a nice park for the kids and an even better hiking trail to the top of a hill/mountain that overlooks the town. There is a quaint visitors center where a sweet lady can tell you just about anything factual you want to know about the area and the county. There is an RV park, a place to refill your propane bottles and there is a place that can work on your auto & tires. There are two real estate offices in the town as well.
There is a Hunter's Feast in the fall and a few other interesting gatherings throughout the year that can be fun for all and profitable for the town.
And there are some really wonderful people there...Unfortunately, not all of the wonderful people hold positions of leadership or status, which is a shame.
The largest convenience store & gas station is without a doubt the slowest, most aggravating convenience store I've ever had the displeasure of doing business with!
One of the realtors, while a kind and likable man, is also the least prompt businessman I've ever had to deal with!
A real estate agent once showed me a property & when said agent found out that I was a simple housewife and could offer neither big money or trade to the town, she was more or less done with me!
A business owner had a property I was interested in, but when I went to his business to inquire about it, he was busy shooting the bull with another person and never acknowledged my presence.
I recently sent another business owner an idea that would possibly help the town recieve good attention, since they are constantly saying they want tourism, and he scoffed at my idea. More or less said it was a silly idea & he wasn't interested in wide publicity for the town.
One person even told me, when I complained about the lack of prompt attention to a business matter, "We're a small town. We do things a lot slower in small towns than y'all do in big cities."
This struck me as hilarious because, you see, the town I grew up in, the town I often refer to as my 'home' was so small it wasn't even considered a town! Just a 'settlement'! But I well remember that if you called someone, they called you back immediately. If you walked into the store on the corner, they looked up and welcomed you or at the least, made eye contact with you. If you were new to the area, someone would stop in to welcome you. It might be your next door neighbor or the white haired ladies from the Baptist Church, but someone would take the time to say, "Welcome!" And if there was a 'happening', everyone called everyone else and got the word out. We wanted to be recognized & we liked as much piblicity as we could get!
So, as I ponder this subject, I find that this town might very well die, eventually, if these arrogant, selfserving people with their rude attitudes and lack of Texan-styled hospitality are allowed to represent this beautiful little town indefinitely.
If tourist passing through can not be waited on in a timely and polite manner, they will realize that they'd better stock up before leaving the big town and use their bank cards at the pumps.
If a realtor can not return your correspondence within 24 hours, regardless, then how in the heck can he sell properties?
If a realtor's agent isn't interested in your purchasing property because you aren't wealthy and can not or will not be bringing a business to the town, wouldn't that give anyone pause about relocating there to send their kids to a small, safe school?
If a 'leader' in the community was only interested in his chosen, and very limited, vocation in getting any word of this town, it's happenings & events out to the world, only because he fears it would cost him dollars in revenue, wouldn't that be selfserving and just a bit greedy? Especially if the proposed idea was free & had the ability to create more tourism for the town???
In closing, as crazy as it might sound, I would still like to one day be a resident of this town because I kind of have the feeling that they need an outspoken old woman like myself! I might not be able to change anything, but I guarantee you, I'd sure give 'em hell!!!
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Laughing Owl
Laughing - To express certain emotions, especially mirth or delight, by a series of spontaneous, usually unarticulated sounds often accompanied by corresponding facial and bodily movements.
To show or feel amusement or good humor.
To feel a triumphant or exultant sense of well-being.
To affect or influence by laughter.
The act and the sound of laughing; laughter.
OWL - denotes wisdom, a symbol of knowledge, heightened observational skills, introspective, brooding, can see in the dark, developed awareness, high spiritual enlightenment It can also mean to use more judgment in a life situation. In the negative, it represents nocturnal "furtive' habits, solitude, silent flight, a plaintive 'harbinger of death' cry, and symbolize a turning away from spiritual light.
To show or feel amusement or good humor.
To feel a triumphant or exultant sense of well-being.
To affect or influence by laughter.
The act and the sound of laughing; laughter.
OWL - denotes wisdom, a symbol of knowledge, heightened observational skills, introspective, brooding, can see in the dark, developed awareness, high spiritual enlightenment It can also mean to use more judgment in a life situation. In the negative, it represents nocturnal "furtive' habits, solitude, silent flight, a plaintive 'harbinger of death' cry, and symbolize a turning away from spiritual light.
Names....
Names can be peculiar.
When we are born, our 'civilized' parents give us names that THEY like and if we are fortunate, those names will fit us and not be too awfully repulsive to us as we grow older and wiser and then have a chance to name our own children.
When I was a child, I found my name acceptable, but often dreamed of it being something more...such as Holly or Jessica, Jacqueline or Molly, Shiloh or Rebecca...I even found it ironic that had my mother had her way, she would have named me Rebecca and it sometimes saddened me that she did not.
Later, when I begin to write fictional stories, I named my characters Molly, Jessica, Jacqueline, Holly and Rebecca, just to name a few. I could live through these women and I could be them because I could envision myself called by these names that I'd given them.
Later, as my writing sometimes took on a more personal note and not always of kind and generous nature, I became a little fearful of what might happen if one day, out of sheer curiosity, one of my antagonist read something written by me about them! Even if I changed names to protect the guilty, they would know their crimes and their sins and they would be riled!
Along about this time, I also discovered some very interesting data concerning my ancestors and I finally had a clear reason why I'd always been drawn to certain groups and embraced certain codes for living. It finally made sense. I finally understood. The blood that flows through me, while diluted, still flows.
It occured to me one night, as I was conversing with a woman whose ancestral blood was thicker than my own, that I COULD have another name and it could be one that fit me, one that embraced me, one that meant something to ME!
She gave me a two worded name, but I was unhappy with the 2nd. It simply did not fit who I am or who I have ever been. But the first name? She couldn't have been more accurate!
I had had an encounter with an animal that left me with more questions than answers. I was advised to study this creature and study it well for it was possible that God was trying to tell me something about myself; impart a little wisdom, warn me of foolish behavior, remind me of my strengths and challenge me to strengthen those things within me that were weak.
And so I studied this creature, and the more I studied it, the more I saw pieces of my own personality made evident by this creature.
It's strengths were strengths I possessed, though not many people ever take the time to know me well enough to see. It's weaknesses were similar to my own and sadly, more people see this part of my nature than I'd like.
And so, one night it just hit me...This creature would be my 2nd name.
I wrote it down. I liked how it looked. It felt right. It felt comfortable. It felt like the true me that people seldom, if ever see.
I added the 3rd name as tribute to my ancestor, as well as in memory of a Great man whose words in the 1700's would prove absolutely prophetic as they all came true!
There are few that know that I am of two names and of those few, a couple have laughed at me...thought me silly and I little (or maybe a lot) off in the head. But that is okay because I am who I am, of dual nature and always ready to break the molds of society's expectations and the 'way things are done'.
I can call myself any old thing I want to call myself...My birth given name that my parents chose for me and put on my legal, recorded birth certificate, AND the name I chose for myself with the help of someone who was blessed by a certain aspect of my personality and by a creature that God sent into my path for an encounter I will not soon forget.
So laugh, if you will, and wallow around in your skepticism and critical judgement...It will have no effect on me as I observe you closely and laugh for the pure joy of laughing:)
When we are born, our 'civilized' parents give us names that THEY like and if we are fortunate, those names will fit us and not be too awfully repulsive to us as we grow older and wiser and then have a chance to name our own children.
When I was a child, I found my name acceptable, but often dreamed of it being something more...such as Holly or Jessica, Jacqueline or Molly, Shiloh or Rebecca...I even found it ironic that had my mother had her way, she would have named me Rebecca and it sometimes saddened me that she did not.
Later, when I begin to write fictional stories, I named my characters Molly, Jessica, Jacqueline, Holly and Rebecca, just to name a few. I could live through these women and I could be them because I could envision myself called by these names that I'd given them.
Later, as my writing sometimes took on a more personal note and not always of kind and generous nature, I became a little fearful of what might happen if one day, out of sheer curiosity, one of my antagonist read something written by me about them! Even if I changed names to protect the guilty, they would know their crimes and their sins and they would be riled!
Along about this time, I also discovered some very interesting data concerning my ancestors and I finally had a clear reason why I'd always been drawn to certain groups and embraced certain codes for living. It finally made sense. I finally understood. The blood that flows through me, while diluted, still flows.
It occured to me one night, as I was conversing with a woman whose ancestral blood was thicker than my own, that I COULD have another name and it could be one that fit me, one that embraced me, one that meant something to ME!
She gave me a two worded name, but I was unhappy with the 2nd. It simply did not fit who I am or who I have ever been. But the first name? She couldn't have been more accurate!
I had had an encounter with an animal that left me with more questions than answers. I was advised to study this creature and study it well for it was possible that God was trying to tell me something about myself; impart a little wisdom, warn me of foolish behavior, remind me of my strengths and challenge me to strengthen those things within me that were weak.
And so I studied this creature, and the more I studied it, the more I saw pieces of my own personality made evident by this creature.
It's strengths were strengths I possessed, though not many people ever take the time to know me well enough to see. It's weaknesses were similar to my own and sadly, more people see this part of my nature than I'd like.
And so, one night it just hit me...This creature would be my 2nd name.
I wrote it down. I liked how it looked. It felt right. It felt comfortable. It felt like the true me that people seldom, if ever see.
I added the 3rd name as tribute to my ancestor, as well as in memory of a Great man whose words in the 1700's would prove absolutely prophetic as they all came true!
There are few that know that I am of two names and of those few, a couple have laughed at me...thought me silly and I little (or maybe a lot) off in the head. But that is okay because I am who I am, of dual nature and always ready to break the molds of society's expectations and the 'way things are done'.
I can call myself any old thing I want to call myself...My birth given name that my parents chose for me and put on my legal, recorded birth certificate, AND the name I chose for myself with the help of someone who was blessed by a certain aspect of my personality and by a creature that God sent into my path for an encounter I will not soon forget.
So laugh, if you will, and wallow around in your skepticism and critical judgement...It will have no effect on me as I observe you closely and laugh for the pure joy of laughing:)
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Herman Cain
I gotta vent...
Politics have always been boring to me. I didn't care, didn't give them a second thought...Until the last presidential election.
I hated Obama, but wasn't too awfully thrilled with McCain, either. Both seemed to me to be glory hounds, career politicians and or power seekers. Neither told me anything I cared to hear, about anything that interested me. BUT, I didn't want Obama to win because he was really throwing that race card around and courting the hispanic population, many of which were not even legal voters...though I am pretty sure those illegal voters voted and had their votes counted!
So, when he won, I wanted to vomit...and have kept that nausea ever day since!
I don't care what all the democratic folks say...Obama has done NOTHING good for the United States of America! NOTHING!!!
He's talked bad about us to other countries. He's ignored our governers, unless of course they are democrats and can further his socialist cause. He's tried to force federal regulations on states, left & right. Not because it is the will of the people, but because it is his and his cabinets will. The list goes on and on...
The sonofabitch just needs to freakin' GO!
Lately, I've been seeing and hearing about all of these people throwing their hats in the ring for the Republican nomination. Some pulled out early, thank God, but I wish a whole lot others would pull out, too!
Newt Gingrich...Are you kidding me? This man is a career politician, makes more money than God, spends more money than satan, is a womanizer who can't seem to make one marriage work, let alone two and now he's in his third...And not only that, he changed his religious beliefs and converted to Catholicism not long ago. Well, this should give pause to just about anyone with any sense...The man is apparently ADD, maybe even ADHD. Can't make his mind up, jumps from one set of bones to another, isn't sure what he believes so he changes his beliefs AFTER mid-life, charges excessively on credit cards, sticks his liberal foot in his mouth every chance he gets, and so on.
He'd be NO Better than the idjit we already have in office. Hell, he'd probably make Bill CLinton look like a school boy with his sexual escapades! Not to mention hocking the White House at Tiffany's!
And just about every other candidate stirs up the same fears, same worries, same questions, same negativity....save one.
I was raised in Texas; a descendant of MANY Southerners, a few even fought for the Confederacy back in the Civil War. Many people would have others believe that the Civil War was ALL about slavery. It wasn't. It was about the South's refusal to be controlled by the Union government. We did not think it was fair or right for the Union to dictate to our states how we should think, feel, behave, etc. We wanted the RIGHT to govern ourselves, and unfortunately slavery just happened to be a major topic in these differences.
And now look where we are!!!!
I am not a racist because I am a child of God, and God made us ALL.
I am a Christian and I am a patriotic American.
I am SICK of career politicians being elected to office, promising us all kinds of things, yet once elected, these people seek out and complete their own selfish, greed ridden agendas and the rest of the United States of America be damned!
I mean, seriously...Look at where we are at today!
So, I heard about this man from Georgia, Herman Cain, and I decided to check him out. Man, was I EVER surprised!
He's NOT a career politician. He's a southerner, he's a devout Christian, he believes and will fight for the Constitution of the United States of America. He's a businessman, having turned, not one, but two companies around that were on the verge of bankruptcy when he arrived and made them into profitable companies, both. He was diagnosed with stage IV cancer in 2006 & doctors told him he had a 30% chance of survival. He refused to give up and got a second opinion...God performed a miracle in his body and now he is cancer free and has been for several years.
He's outlined problems with the U.S. and then, he's offered detailed solutions to repairing those problems. He does not say it will be easy, nor does he promise an unrealistic, pain free healing...But for once, he is someone who offers actual, do-able, realistic means to solving our problems.
Oh...Did I mention that he is black?
Well, for those of you who take issue with this, let me throw you an idea...
Obama is not 'black'. He is bi-racial. However, Obama does enjoy throwing his 'race' card around for all to see, even while lying and saying it doesn't matter. It does...to him!
This man from Georgia is a true southern black man...and he does not like the race card!
(He also abhors the current welfare system. He can not stand dead beats who use it as a way of life. I agree with that!)
SO, I wonder...with whites headed toward becoming the minority race in the U.S., how interesting would it be to have a Southern Black man who was a devout Christian & who was super patriotic run against the liberal, lying, self serving bi-racial man who uses the race card like a shield???
I also think that the republican party will do themselves a deep injustice if they court the white career politicians with muddied backgrounds and track records that cause us to wince, and neglect this Southern Black Man who actually CAN inspire us to not only hope, but heal as a nation!
I pray for Herman Cain and I pray for you if you are leaning away from him simply due to his skin color or the stupid fact that he's never held office before. I mean, seriously? Why should that matter? Look at where the politicians have gotten us thus far...And besides, could he really do us anymore harm that Obama has already done?
And anyway, what better man to beat Obama in his run for another term of president than a TRUE black man???
Just my thoughts...
Politics have always been boring to me. I didn't care, didn't give them a second thought...Until the last presidential election.
I hated Obama, but wasn't too awfully thrilled with McCain, either. Both seemed to me to be glory hounds, career politicians and or power seekers. Neither told me anything I cared to hear, about anything that interested me. BUT, I didn't want Obama to win because he was really throwing that race card around and courting the hispanic population, many of which were not even legal voters...though I am pretty sure those illegal voters voted and had their votes counted!
So, when he won, I wanted to vomit...and have kept that nausea ever day since!
I don't care what all the democratic folks say...Obama has done NOTHING good for the United States of America! NOTHING!!!
He's talked bad about us to other countries. He's ignored our governers, unless of course they are democrats and can further his socialist cause. He's tried to force federal regulations on states, left & right. Not because it is the will of the people, but because it is his and his cabinets will. The list goes on and on...
The sonofabitch just needs to freakin' GO!
Lately, I've been seeing and hearing about all of these people throwing their hats in the ring for the Republican nomination. Some pulled out early, thank God, but I wish a whole lot others would pull out, too!
Newt Gingrich...Are you kidding me? This man is a career politician, makes more money than God, spends more money than satan, is a womanizer who can't seem to make one marriage work, let alone two and now he's in his third...And not only that, he changed his religious beliefs and converted to Catholicism not long ago. Well, this should give pause to just about anyone with any sense...The man is apparently ADD, maybe even ADHD. Can't make his mind up, jumps from one set of bones to another, isn't sure what he believes so he changes his beliefs AFTER mid-life, charges excessively on credit cards, sticks his liberal foot in his mouth every chance he gets, and so on.
He'd be NO Better than the idjit we already have in office. Hell, he'd probably make Bill CLinton look like a school boy with his sexual escapades! Not to mention hocking the White House at Tiffany's!
And just about every other candidate stirs up the same fears, same worries, same questions, same negativity....save one.
I was raised in Texas; a descendant of MANY Southerners, a few even fought for the Confederacy back in the Civil War. Many people would have others believe that the Civil War was ALL about slavery. It wasn't. It was about the South's refusal to be controlled by the Union government. We did not think it was fair or right for the Union to dictate to our states how we should think, feel, behave, etc. We wanted the RIGHT to govern ourselves, and unfortunately slavery just happened to be a major topic in these differences.
And now look where we are!!!!
I am not a racist because I am a child of God, and God made us ALL.
I am a Christian and I am a patriotic American.
I am SICK of career politicians being elected to office, promising us all kinds of things, yet once elected, these people seek out and complete their own selfish, greed ridden agendas and the rest of the United States of America be damned!
I mean, seriously...Look at where we are at today!
So, I heard about this man from Georgia, Herman Cain, and I decided to check him out. Man, was I EVER surprised!
He's NOT a career politician. He's a southerner, he's a devout Christian, he believes and will fight for the Constitution of the United States of America. He's a businessman, having turned, not one, but two companies around that were on the verge of bankruptcy when he arrived and made them into profitable companies, both. He was diagnosed with stage IV cancer in 2006 & doctors told him he had a 30% chance of survival. He refused to give up and got a second opinion...God performed a miracle in his body and now he is cancer free and has been for several years.
He's outlined problems with the U.S. and then, he's offered detailed solutions to repairing those problems. He does not say it will be easy, nor does he promise an unrealistic, pain free healing...But for once, he is someone who offers actual, do-able, realistic means to solving our problems.
Oh...Did I mention that he is black?
Well, for those of you who take issue with this, let me throw you an idea...
Obama is not 'black'. He is bi-racial. However, Obama does enjoy throwing his 'race' card around for all to see, even while lying and saying it doesn't matter. It does...to him!
This man from Georgia is a true southern black man...and he does not like the race card!
(He also abhors the current welfare system. He can not stand dead beats who use it as a way of life. I agree with that!)
SO, I wonder...with whites headed toward becoming the minority race in the U.S., how interesting would it be to have a Southern Black man who was a devout Christian & who was super patriotic run against the liberal, lying, self serving bi-racial man who uses the race card like a shield???
I also think that the republican party will do themselves a deep injustice if they court the white career politicians with muddied backgrounds and track records that cause us to wince, and neglect this Southern Black Man who actually CAN inspire us to not only hope, but heal as a nation!
I pray for Herman Cain and I pray for you if you are leaning away from him simply due to his skin color or the stupid fact that he's never held office before. I mean, seriously? Why should that matter? Look at where the politicians have gotten us thus far...And besides, could he really do us anymore harm that Obama has already done?
And anyway, what better man to beat Obama in his run for another term of president than a TRUE black man???
Just my thoughts...
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Some People...
Some people are just so childish and manipulative.
I can handle 'childish' because I am often a portrayor of that type of behavior; not to be proud of the fact, but to be honest of the flaw.
However, I do not understand, comprehend or like manipulative people. Manipulative people, in my opinion, aren't much different than Lucifer. They, like Lucifer, control others through psychological, if you will, games and deceptive practices. They will play on a person's heartstrings, find and touch (often cruelly) sensitive areas of a person's conscience, thereby gaining access to and control over the actions and feelings of that person...and for no other reason than CONTROL.
That control gives them power. Makes them feel superior. Allows them a feeling of self-righteousness with a holier-than-thou attitude.
And it angers me greatly when I see this behavior in a person...Especially one I've walked away from, turned my back on, 'un-friended', if you will.
Because I AM the better person, I apologize and take the entire blame. I want no more whining, no more guilt trips, no more 'Woe is me' song & dance, and will happily accept full responsiblity for things I'm not responsible for IF it'll bring peace & closure & shut the other person up!!!
So I say I'm the bad guy, say I did all the wrongs & the other person did all the rights, and go so far as to beg for forgiveness when in truth, I don't WANT that person's forgiveness...I just want that person to SHUT UP and LEAVE ME ALONE! But, I eat the meal of crow anyway, one black feather at a time, and when I've finally swallowed the last feather, chewed on the last bone, we both walk away happy.
The other person because 'she' made me BEG for her forgiveness, thinking she'd weakened me, proving in her mind that she was superior to me in both word and deed, and allowing her to initiate the 'cold shoulder' response as 'pay back'.
And, me...because now she's giving me the cold shoulder (YAY!!!) and no longer bombarding me with her whining and false humility.
Yet in the end, I can't help but think that perhaps I, too, played the detestable game of manipulation...
It is one thing to be lost in unfamiliar territory while wandering around in a wilderness. It is quiet another thing to be wandering around in a wilderness in a territory that is all too familiar...
I can handle 'childish' because I am often a portrayor of that type of behavior; not to be proud of the fact, but to be honest of the flaw.
However, I do not understand, comprehend or like manipulative people. Manipulative people, in my opinion, aren't much different than Lucifer. They, like Lucifer, control others through psychological, if you will, games and deceptive practices. They will play on a person's heartstrings, find and touch (often cruelly) sensitive areas of a person's conscience, thereby gaining access to and control over the actions and feelings of that person...and for no other reason than CONTROL.
That control gives them power. Makes them feel superior. Allows them a feeling of self-righteousness with a holier-than-thou attitude.
And it angers me greatly when I see this behavior in a person...Especially one I've walked away from, turned my back on, 'un-friended', if you will.
Because I AM the better person, I apologize and take the entire blame. I want no more whining, no more guilt trips, no more 'Woe is me' song & dance, and will happily accept full responsiblity for things I'm not responsible for IF it'll bring peace & closure & shut the other person up!!!
So I say I'm the bad guy, say I did all the wrongs & the other person did all the rights, and go so far as to beg for forgiveness when in truth, I don't WANT that person's forgiveness...I just want that person to SHUT UP and LEAVE ME ALONE! But, I eat the meal of crow anyway, one black feather at a time, and when I've finally swallowed the last feather, chewed on the last bone, we both walk away happy.
The other person because 'she' made me BEG for her forgiveness, thinking she'd weakened me, proving in her mind that she was superior to me in both word and deed, and allowing her to initiate the 'cold shoulder' response as 'pay back'.
And, me...because now she's giving me the cold shoulder (YAY!!!) and no longer bombarding me with her whining and false humility.
Yet in the end, I can't help but think that perhaps I, too, played the detestable game of manipulation...
It is one thing to be lost in unfamiliar territory while wandering around in a wilderness. It is quiet another thing to be wandering around in a wilderness in a territory that is all too familiar...
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Enough Running
At what point do I say, 'Enough is quiet enough'?
At what point do I admit, 'I'm tired of running'?
Though filled with wanderlust, a gypsy I am not.
I long for a home on this earth that I can grow old in, a home that I never have to leave until I die of contrariness & old age. Where the walls have yellowed around the many pictures and the wallpaper is older than my great grandkids. Where the scents of cedar, honeysuckle, lily-of-the-valley, rose water and baby powder fill every room. Where all the trinkets and what-nots I've collected throughout my life sit quietly and prettily throughout the house, and I'll take only the memories they brought me when I finally go. Where everything has it's place, even if only I understood the place everything has. Where outside the red rose bush of my Pappaw stands as tall as the plum trees and as wide as the spread of a fifty year old live oak. Where the gardenias bloom alongside the camelias and the 4 o'clocks threaten to take over the backyard. Where hummingbirds fight like rabid dogs as honey bees steal sips of syruppy coca-cola from a forgotten can on a railing. Where song birds return yearly to raise their young and sing sweet songs of joy simply because they can. Where one night, a long time from now, I will lay in the dark in my big old bed, and I will finally lay all of these burdens at the feet of God and say, 'I truly surrender ALL!'
And at the breaking of the dawn the voice of God will whisper through Pappaw's rose bush and say, "She's done enough running. She's finally come HOME!"
At what point do I admit, 'I'm tired of running'?
Though filled with wanderlust, a gypsy I am not.
I long for a home on this earth that I can grow old in, a home that I never have to leave until I die of contrariness & old age. Where the walls have yellowed around the many pictures and the wallpaper is older than my great grandkids. Where the scents of cedar, honeysuckle, lily-of-the-valley, rose water and baby powder fill every room. Where all the trinkets and what-nots I've collected throughout my life sit quietly and prettily throughout the house, and I'll take only the memories they brought me when I finally go. Where everything has it's place, even if only I understood the place everything has. Where outside the red rose bush of my Pappaw stands as tall as the plum trees and as wide as the spread of a fifty year old live oak. Where the gardenias bloom alongside the camelias and the 4 o'clocks threaten to take over the backyard. Where hummingbirds fight like rabid dogs as honey bees steal sips of syruppy coca-cola from a forgotten can on a railing. Where song birds return yearly to raise their young and sing sweet songs of joy simply because they can. Where one night, a long time from now, I will lay in the dark in my big old bed, and I will finally lay all of these burdens at the feet of God and say, 'I truly surrender ALL!'
And at the breaking of the dawn the voice of God will whisper through Pappaw's rose bush and say, "She's done enough running. She's finally come HOME!"
Empty Houses...Analogy or Parable
I love houses.
Old houses, new houses, empty houses, occupied houses, beautiful houses, ordinary houses, even ugly houses.
I love walking through these houses, seeing the layouts of the rooms, the various architectural details from the complex to the simple bare essentials. They each have a story to tell or a story waiting to unfold, each beautiful in their own way.
I also enjoy, well, actually LOVE, looking at house plans. I even enjoy drawing them and have since I was about 12 years of age. With my pen I used words to construct a story where there was no story before and with my pencil I used lines to create houses, that in my mind, could one day be homes.
I would spend lazy summer days, rainy Saturdays and cold Sunday afternoons to create houses on paper, giving great detail to the placement of rooms and windows and doors. Looking back at those old drawings I smile at the impossibility of a few of those plans, while staring in shock at the absolute genius of others.
I never have been good at math or anything math related, therefore I never once seriously entertained a field in architecture. But I remain, all these years later, still loving houses.
These days I look at houses for sale via the internet, and I can spend hours upon hours viewing them. In the past few years, I've looked out of neccessity and true interest, but many times I look simply because I love houses.
I find myself drawn to the very modestly priced houses; not the six figure homes and above, which seems a bit wasteful considering I will never own one and wouldn't know how to furnish it if I did! No, my interest lies in those below the six figure mark because not only are they more within my reality, but also because they have better stories to tell!
Some are neglected. Some are abused. Some have been lost to a bank or mortgage company, I'm sure painfully. Others have remained while their owners have left this earth. Some were outgrown. Some were overgrown. Many just didn't get along with their residents. Others weren't in the right towns. A few were too expensive to keep due to age or condition.
But they are all beautiful...and most are empty.
Last night I decided to 'visit' an area I last visited almost twenty months ago. I'd considered it before we bought our current home, but decided against it at the last minute for reasons I'm not sure I understood then, but it turned out to be a fair decision all in all.
There were not a few houses for sale this time like there was twenty months ago. Instead, there are close to a thousand and the prices ranged from a couple at around a million, to nearly ten in the fifteen thousand dollar range, with over nine hundred in between! Some were occupied, but the majority were not. As I found my 'comfort' price, I begin seeing homes I had once thought impossible for me to own within my price range. And then I started seeing that most of these were in tiny little towns a few miles from the target city, and the more I looked, the more of these houses I found.
All were vacant...Beautiful, modest homes on pretty city lots, nice sized back yards, shade trees here and there...sitting unoccupied, unwanted, forgotten in cities that are dying.
I found myself crying...
In a nation where our homeless population continues to grow while our government and banking industries are hell-bent on greed and wasteful spending, it is utterly incomprehensible to me why thousands upon thousands of houses sit unoccupied -and hundreds of small towns are dying for lack of people and lack of viable resources. And yet, the United States government makes it a priority to fund nations that hate us and are waiting for the opportunity to not only stab us in the back, but take control of our resources AND eventually our nation as a whole.
And, WE, the American people, have allowed things to be as they are and unless something is done quickly and with the utmost haste, the nation as we know it now will only decline and eventually die.
Our bodies were created to be a home for the Almighty God. It says in scripture that our bodies are to be a temple of the Holy Ghost. Jesus stands at the door and knocks, and if we answer the door and invite Him into our 'house', He will reside there.
There are thousands upon thousands upon thousands of empty 'houses' in this world today. Some are old and worn out and in much need of repair. Some have been neglected, others have been abused. Some have been overlooked, others outgrown, others still, overgrown. A few are brand new, while others are very old, yet still in good condition. Some are fashionable, but many are outdated.
And every single one is beautiful in the eyes of God!
Every single one is Unique in it's build & personality, the lay out of its rooms, the stories it has to tell, the stories yet waiting to unfold.
Some need a lot of work, while others simply need a Resident that will love them and care for them.
Yet our denominational rules and regulations throughout the world today; our false teachers and false prophets; our 'feel good, name it claim it, greed based' ministers of callous hearts and money hungry minds; our increasingly apathetic selfish, selfserving self-righteousness and this ME based society we have allowed to saturate our world...Ignores these houses, overlooks their vacancies, turns their noses up at the imperfections and costs of restoring these once eye-appealing dwellings...And the Lord, Almighty is grieved, His heart heavy, His anger kindled.
When, Oh, When will God's People WAKE UP and OPEN THEIR EYES???
We have a Great Commission...To see that these HOUSES are READY when JESUS arrives to knock at their doors!
But we're not fullfilling our duties - and houses remain vacant, neglected, forgotten as the towns that surround them slowly die away for lack of residents, lack of viable resources.
And I find myself crying...
May the Spirit of God hit us quickly and hard so that we WILL awaken and set out to fulfill and accomplish that which His Word has commanded us to do! In Jesus Holy Name, I pray!
Old houses, new houses, empty houses, occupied houses, beautiful houses, ordinary houses, even ugly houses.
I love walking through these houses, seeing the layouts of the rooms, the various architectural details from the complex to the simple bare essentials. They each have a story to tell or a story waiting to unfold, each beautiful in their own way.
I also enjoy, well, actually LOVE, looking at house plans. I even enjoy drawing them and have since I was about 12 years of age. With my pen I used words to construct a story where there was no story before and with my pencil I used lines to create houses, that in my mind, could one day be homes.
I would spend lazy summer days, rainy Saturdays and cold Sunday afternoons to create houses on paper, giving great detail to the placement of rooms and windows and doors. Looking back at those old drawings I smile at the impossibility of a few of those plans, while staring in shock at the absolute genius of others.
I never have been good at math or anything math related, therefore I never once seriously entertained a field in architecture. But I remain, all these years later, still loving houses.
These days I look at houses for sale via the internet, and I can spend hours upon hours viewing them. In the past few years, I've looked out of neccessity and true interest, but many times I look simply because I love houses.
I find myself drawn to the very modestly priced houses; not the six figure homes and above, which seems a bit wasteful considering I will never own one and wouldn't know how to furnish it if I did! No, my interest lies in those below the six figure mark because not only are they more within my reality, but also because they have better stories to tell!
Some are neglected. Some are abused. Some have been lost to a bank or mortgage company, I'm sure painfully. Others have remained while their owners have left this earth. Some were outgrown. Some were overgrown. Many just didn't get along with their residents. Others weren't in the right towns. A few were too expensive to keep due to age or condition.
But they are all beautiful...and most are empty.
Last night I decided to 'visit' an area I last visited almost twenty months ago. I'd considered it before we bought our current home, but decided against it at the last minute for reasons I'm not sure I understood then, but it turned out to be a fair decision all in all.
There were not a few houses for sale this time like there was twenty months ago. Instead, there are close to a thousand and the prices ranged from a couple at around a million, to nearly ten in the fifteen thousand dollar range, with over nine hundred in between! Some were occupied, but the majority were not. As I found my 'comfort' price, I begin seeing homes I had once thought impossible for me to own within my price range. And then I started seeing that most of these were in tiny little towns a few miles from the target city, and the more I looked, the more of these houses I found.
All were vacant...Beautiful, modest homes on pretty city lots, nice sized back yards, shade trees here and there...sitting unoccupied, unwanted, forgotten in cities that are dying.
I found myself crying...
In a nation where our homeless population continues to grow while our government and banking industries are hell-bent on greed and wasteful spending, it is utterly incomprehensible to me why thousands upon thousands of houses sit unoccupied -and hundreds of small towns are dying for lack of people and lack of viable resources. And yet, the United States government makes it a priority to fund nations that hate us and are waiting for the opportunity to not only stab us in the back, but take control of our resources AND eventually our nation as a whole.
And, WE, the American people, have allowed things to be as they are and unless something is done quickly and with the utmost haste, the nation as we know it now will only decline and eventually die.
Our bodies were created to be a home for the Almighty God. It says in scripture that our bodies are to be a temple of the Holy Ghost. Jesus stands at the door and knocks, and if we answer the door and invite Him into our 'house', He will reside there.
There are thousands upon thousands upon thousands of empty 'houses' in this world today. Some are old and worn out and in much need of repair. Some have been neglected, others have been abused. Some have been overlooked, others outgrown, others still, overgrown. A few are brand new, while others are very old, yet still in good condition. Some are fashionable, but many are outdated.
And every single one is beautiful in the eyes of God!
Every single one is Unique in it's build & personality, the lay out of its rooms, the stories it has to tell, the stories yet waiting to unfold.
Some need a lot of work, while others simply need a Resident that will love them and care for them.
Yet our denominational rules and regulations throughout the world today; our false teachers and false prophets; our 'feel good, name it claim it, greed based' ministers of callous hearts and money hungry minds; our increasingly apathetic selfish, selfserving self-righteousness and this ME based society we have allowed to saturate our world...Ignores these houses, overlooks their vacancies, turns their noses up at the imperfections and costs of restoring these once eye-appealing dwellings...And the Lord, Almighty is grieved, His heart heavy, His anger kindled.
When, Oh, When will God's People WAKE UP and OPEN THEIR EYES???
We have a Great Commission...To see that these HOUSES are READY when JESUS arrives to knock at their doors!
But we're not fullfilling our duties - and houses remain vacant, neglected, forgotten as the towns that surround them slowly die away for lack of residents, lack of viable resources.
And I find myself crying...
May the Spirit of God hit us quickly and hard so that we WILL awaken and set out to fulfill and accomplish that which His Word has commanded us to do! In Jesus Holy Name, I pray!
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Lost
There are some days when I feel so totally and completely lost. I'm feeling that now. A few days ago I freely gave up my then current goal and now I'm lost without one. A part of me wants to give up, though I know that feeling will eventually pass as I've yet to give up on anything and I'm never for too long without a goal.
But for now?
I just feel lost.
Everything around me keeps moving, yet I feel as if my world has stopped and I'm just sitting here; unnoticed, ignored, forgotten. Kinda makes me want to cry a bit, yet I know that'll do no more good than give me a splitting headache and since I already have one of those, I certainly can do without another!
Was I wrong to give up on my most current goal? No, I don't think so. There were too many unknowns, too many negative possibilities, too many certain uncertainties.
I know that faith requires we accept the unknowns and uncertainties in life, certain and knowing that our Heavenly Father will take care of us. However, I also know that our Heavenly Father expects us to use the brain He put inside our heads and sometimes, we must weigh the variables and decide if a thing is 'stepping out in Faith' or 'diving off into an empty pool of plumb stupid'!
Well, I didn't dive off into plumb stupid and I acted in Faith by giving up that goal. It was a wise decision and one that I doubt I will regret. Yet I am so empty and lost now and I am asking God, "What next?" because I don't know how to 'be still and wait upon The Lord'!
He knows that and I have no doubt this is why I am feeling what I'm feeling...But I don't like it! I don't like it one little bit!
But for now?
I just feel lost.
Everything around me keeps moving, yet I feel as if my world has stopped and I'm just sitting here; unnoticed, ignored, forgotten. Kinda makes me want to cry a bit, yet I know that'll do no more good than give me a splitting headache and since I already have one of those, I certainly can do without another!
Was I wrong to give up on my most current goal? No, I don't think so. There were too many unknowns, too many negative possibilities, too many certain uncertainties.
I know that faith requires we accept the unknowns and uncertainties in life, certain and knowing that our Heavenly Father will take care of us. However, I also know that our Heavenly Father expects us to use the brain He put inside our heads and sometimes, we must weigh the variables and decide if a thing is 'stepping out in Faith' or 'diving off into an empty pool of plumb stupid'!
Well, I didn't dive off into plumb stupid and I acted in Faith by giving up that goal. It was a wise decision and one that I doubt I will regret. Yet I am so empty and lost now and I am asking God, "What next?" because I don't know how to 'be still and wait upon The Lord'!
He knows that and I have no doubt this is why I am feeling what I'm feeling...But I don't like it! I don't like it one little bit!
Saturday, April 9, 2011
I've got too much living to do...
My paternal grandmother had her first stroke 6 months before her 50th birthday. It left her right side paralyzed, mostly her right arm and hand. I remember sitting at the table in her kitchen, massaging and working her lifeless fingers back and forth, stretching them as far as my little 6 year old hands could manage. Withing a few months, she was able to grasp a pen and cautiously sign her name, though it was both a struggle and a chore, and her penmanship was not anything like it had been.
December 5th, 1969, she turned 50 years old. We enjoyed her through Christmas and on weekends, just glad she was alive and being my 'Nanny'.
On a Sunday in early March, she told my mother that she'd had a dream. In the dream there were black women dressed in white and they were coming for her. Nanny believed that this symbolized and possibly forewarned of her death.
March 10th, 1970 she awoke and made Pappaw breakfast and then went back to bed for a little while, knowing she was to wake up in an hour or so to get my then 15 year old Aunt off to school.
My aunt woke up to the sound of the bus in the front of the house blowing the horn. She realzed that she'd overslept and knew something was wrong because Nanny, her mother, had never let anyone oversleep. She found her mother in bed, still warm. My precious Nanny was gone and the coroner ruled she'd had a massive stroke or heart attack while she slept.
She was 50 years and 3 months and 5 days old.
And now, at 48 years of age, I am battling hypertention, and it frightens me. I have way too much living left to do and do not think kindly on a death any earlier than my 80th year! I have to keep reminding myself that my maternal grandmother was also hypertensive and lived into her 90's, never suffering a single stroke. But the difference is, Nanny was a Type A personality, with Obsessive compulsive behavior and my maternal grandmother was a Type Z personality who was so mellow and laid back, had she ever smoked marijuana it would have rendered her comatose! Unfortunately for me, I am a Type A personality with OCD!!!
Oh, how I long to be laid back, easy going and so mellow that others think I've been smoking something!!!
I pray that God HELP me. I want to LIVE a LONG life. Get my youngest son raised to adulthood. Drive all my kids crazy by being the crazy old woman I've always promised them I'd be!
I've just got too much living to do to die so early...I ain't ready yet, and won't be for another 40 years!!!
December 5th, 1969, she turned 50 years old. We enjoyed her through Christmas and on weekends, just glad she was alive and being my 'Nanny'.
On a Sunday in early March, she told my mother that she'd had a dream. In the dream there were black women dressed in white and they were coming for her. Nanny believed that this symbolized and possibly forewarned of her death.
March 10th, 1970 she awoke and made Pappaw breakfast and then went back to bed for a little while, knowing she was to wake up in an hour or so to get my then 15 year old Aunt off to school.
My aunt woke up to the sound of the bus in the front of the house blowing the horn. She realzed that she'd overslept and knew something was wrong because Nanny, her mother, had never let anyone oversleep. She found her mother in bed, still warm. My precious Nanny was gone and the coroner ruled she'd had a massive stroke or heart attack while she slept.
She was 50 years and 3 months and 5 days old.
And now, at 48 years of age, I am battling hypertention, and it frightens me. I have way too much living left to do and do not think kindly on a death any earlier than my 80th year! I have to keep reminding myself that my maternal grandmother was also hypertensive and lived into her 90's, never suffering a single stroke. But the difference is, Nanny was a Type A personality, with Obsessive compulsive behavior and my maternal grandmother was a Type Z personality who was so mellow and laid back, had she ever smoked marijuana it would have rendered her comatose! Unfortunately for me, I am a Type A personality with OCD!!!
Oh, how I long to be laid back, easy going and so mellow that others think I've been smoking something!!!
I pray that God HELP me. I want to LIVE a LONG life. Get my youngest son raised to adulthood. Drive all my kids crazy by being the crazy old woman I've always promised them I'd be!
I've just got too much living to do to die so early...I ain't ready yet, and won't be for another 40 years!!!
Pieces of my journey...
As I wander through this life, I have observed many things. I have experieinced many things as well; some good, some bad and a few devastatingly horrible. I have been blessed, bruised and scarred, yet not handicapped to the point that I am incapable of seeing, feeling, touching, doing, moving. I have been made weak by misfortunes, given hope by resiliency and earned strength by the exercise of rising above and beyond those misfortunes. I have learned to appreciate the least of things and ended up finding these small things really are the best.
I yearn for simplicity; in both person and life. I long for the quietness for it both calms my mind and allows me to 'hear' my Father when He speaks.
I rail and rage against injustice and have often fought to the point that my physical health has suffered. Yet in the end, my fight has proven to be on the side of right, and though my number of enemies increases from time to time, I fear them not as their injustices are a plague and I know that they will eventually reap their just fruit.
I am, and will most likely remain, an enigma to most every person who knows me; A mystery they can not solve.
This bothers me not for I do not live, nor was I created, for man.
My purpose may very well be much more complicated that that!
For who are we to question our mighty God and the things that He alone has created?
Yet if I say that God hath called me to proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ, there are numbers of those who would attempt to discount this, while offering their 'wisdom' in leading me in the 'right' direction, even if it was opposed to the direction God had set before me.
If I say that I am a prophetess, good 'Christian' people would attempt to rebuke the 'evil' spirit from me as well as explain to me 'exactly' what prophecy was, though all the while they had not a clue.
If I say that I have the gift of discernment, again, these good 'Christian' people feel it their duty to try and explain something they really do not understand, thereby creating confusion in a place that God had filled with HIS perfect peace.
Therefore, I remain silent and keep certain things to myself, away from the prying and critical eyes of others for I already know how they will react.
Yes, I am sensitive and easily hurt...and I am fearsome with the ability to cause much chaos. For every positive, there is a negative; for every negative, there is a positive. The problem lies in balancing the forces to a degree that one might benefit the world around them while keeping a strong hand on the destructive forces within and somehow finding peace with God in the midst of the constant war with self.
This life, thus far, has been a journey through a vast wilderness, and though there have been times when the journey has been discouraging, even frightening, I am learning to appreciate the least of things and enjoy the beauty of the smallest gems. While I've lived in many houses, I've yet to find my true home and I am beginning to believe that when I do find it, it will not be a part of this earth. I'm good with that!
So, until then...I will wander and I will learn and I will write...
I yearn for simplicity; in both person and life. I long for the quietness for it both calms my mind and allows me to 'hear' my Father when He speaks.
I rail and rage against injustice and have often fought to the point that my physical health has suffered. Yet in the end, my fight has proven to be on the side of right, and though my number of enemies increases from time to time, I fear them not as their injustices are a plague and I know that they will eventually reap their just fruit.
I am, and will most likely remain, an enigma to most every person who knows me; A mystery they can not solve.
This bothers me not for I do not live, nor was I created, for man.
My purpose may very well be much more complicated that that!
For who are we to question our mighty God and the things that He alone has created?
Yet if I say that God hath called me to proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ, there are numbers of those who would attempt to discount this, while offering their 'wisdom' in leading me in the 'right' direction, even if it was opposed to the direction God had set before me.
If I say that I am a prophetess, good 'Christian' people would attempt to rebuke the 'evil' spirit from me as well as explain to me 'exactly' what prophecy was, though all the while they had not a clue.
If I say that I have the gift of discernment, again, these good 'Christian' people feel it their duty to try and explain something they really do not understand, thereby creating confusion in a place that God had filled with HIS perfect peace.
Therefore, I remain silent and keep certain things to myself, away from the prying and critical eyes of others for I already know how they will react.
Yes, I am sensitive and easily hurt...and I am fearsome with the ability to cause much chaos. For every positive, there is a negative; for every negative, there is a positive. The problem lies in balancing the forces to a degree that one might benefit the world around them while keeping a strong hand on the destructive forces within and somehow finding peace with God in the midst of the constant war with self.
This life, thus far, has been a journey through a vast wilderness, and though there have been times when the journey has been discouraging, even frightening, I am learning to appreciate the least of things and enjoy the beauty of the smallest gems. While I've lived in many houses, I've yet to find my true home and I am beginning to believe that when I do find it, it will not be a part of this earth. I'm good with that!
So, until then...I will wander and I will learn and I will write...
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
In the Beginning...
In the beginning...exactly WHERE do I choose to begin???
Why don't I just get back to you on that one???
Why don't I just get back to you on that one???
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