Three American Heros, The Stock Market Drop, and Venting (Huh?)

You are probably asking what do the three American heroes, who stopped a terrorist from shooting up a French train, and the American stock market’s enormous drop have to do with each other?

Both should be a slap in the face, wake up call for all Americans!! If we don’t take the attitude of “Enough!” with terrorists, our leaders, and other problems within our country, then we deserve what we get.

And, what will we get?

A depression greater than the Great depression of the thirties, poverty that will be a reflection of a third world nation, and crime that will rival when the Romans fed Christians to the lions.

If you don’t believe me, well..take a peek outside your own front door.

The first thing we should do is give those three Americans a ticker tape parade in Washington, DC!

Next, bring manufacturing back to this country with incentives and huge taxations for importation.  Even a bigger tax for American companies having the work done outside of America and then bringing it back into this country to sell.

Flat federal tax rate for households earning over $75,000.00 per year and no tax for those under. 

While I am venting my frustration over our country’s numerous, disastrous situations.


Republican politicians who are running for the candidacy right now, need to take assessment of their actions and speeches.

Some of these Republican politicians have large sewage holes for mouths, spewing condemnation for one another and shooting the other candidates full of holes.  Once you have made your opponent look like a sieve, how do you fill them back up, especially if you need their backing?

You just ruined their credibility!

Do I hear a big “Duhhhh?”

I don’t want to hear promises which you can not fulfill. Basically guys and ladies, until you actually get into office, your plans are fiction! You can state what you would like to do and how you think you can accomplish it; but to state that you know for a fact is a hollow promise!


Lay out your plan of action and allow the people to ask you the hard questions, without the rhetoric. Get out and shake some hands, visit the poorest areas of America and take some food. Go sit on America’s front porches and view life from our perspective.

Then maybe, we might back you!

The biggest part is for YOU, the America citizen.  You have to say “Enough crap!” And that is exactly what it is…crap. As a matter of fact, it is so much crap that you can’t scrap it off the bottom of your shoe, because it is already up to your neck!

And why vote another career politician into office? Politicians are the reason we are in this mess and we elected them. We do have a few non-political candidates. My choices are Dr. Ben Carson for President and Carly Fiorina for Vice-President. Donald Trump could be head of the Treasury and Tax Departments!

Some suggestions to get you started…

Stand up and stop violence when possible. Don’t turn a blind eye to it.

Call or write our political leaders and express your desire for change or their resignation.

Do not allow Political Correctness rule your life. Be an individual with your own ideas and beliefs.  And don’t cower away from expressing them!

It is called FREEDOM!

Jesus died so that we would have freedom from death. Not so that we would hide our heads in shame over believing in Him!

American soldiers, and citizens unafraid to do what is right, have died so that you can live a free life. Don’t dishonor them anymore!

And be grateful for the life you have because these are very short years on this earth!

God Bless You!


I Pitch My Tent In The Land of Hope (Where is the land of hope anyway?)

King David once said that he pitched his tent in the land of hope.  And if you read the book of Psalms, you know exactly where the land of hope is located. God is the land of hope and promise.  Jesus was the fulfillment of the promise!

My own tent stays pitched in the land of hope and prayer! One of my favorite Psalms is 121. Just reading it spreads a warm peace throughout my body.  Because  no matter what the world throws my way, I will always have God.

Psalm 121  A song of ascents.

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
    where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip—
    he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel
    will neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord watches over you—
    the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day,
    nor the moon by night.

The Lord will keep you from all harm—
    he will watch over your life;
the Lord will watch over your coming and going
    both now and forevermore.

Wooo! Hooo!

After reading that, how could you not believe in God and put your trust in Him for everything in your life?  The Maker of the universe is going to take care of you and me!  God loves each one of us as if we were His only child.

At least that is the way I feel.  God makes me feel special and when we are together, I feel like it is just the two of us! Sometimes I want to shout “God loves me most!”

But I know He loves all of us “the most.”

Now, that does not mean God answers all my prayers the way I request. God listens to my prayers, sends me comfort, and answers them in accord with His plans. And God’s plans are always what is best for each of us. Even though we might not realize it at the time.

So, where have you pitched your tent? In the land of this world of crazy and despair? Or in God?

My Father’s Funeral (Miracles Within the Sorrow)

Before me was my father’s casket, perched above the looming hole it would soon be lowered down.  Had I not begged Jesus to give him peace and then turn around and think this day would not come? Yes, because I wanted my father’s peace my way. No one wants to realize their parent’s time here has expired and I am no exception. Not this baby girl!

By 11 am, funeral time, it was a sweltering 90 degrees, the air thick with moisture and stagnant. Looking around the graveyard, I wondered why they did not have electrical outlets positioned in strategical locations. Then the funeral home could provide fans or heaters, depending on the season, for the living; who had come to say their final goodbyes. But this was the land of the dead, not the living. And there were no outlets.

The air had not changed since we arrived, it felt like…well…death. No movement and no life. Very appropriate for the land of the dead with its’ dead shells which once housed the holy spirit, dead flowers marking their new homes, and today especially…dead air!

Because of the heat and at the request of my father, Chris, the Pastor, kept his kind words of remembrance short. Chris did not even get a chance to remind those of us living, that one day too; we would be perched over a hole to be lowered into the ground.

You would think the presence of a casket and a life left only to memories would be enough of a reminder anyway!

There was an anticipation stirring within my stomach, as Chris spoke.  Was there going to be a small miracle for us to see today, or was it me dreading the ending of the service? I could not tell.

Chris was now coming to the end of his final prayer. And my urge was to jump up and shout just as Jesus did to Lazarus, “Lazarus come out!”

“Houston, Pop, Daddy…please come out!” The words never left my throat.

A gust of wind had interrupted the dead air. And its’ presence was loud, forceful, loving, and strangely cooling. Peace was descending over our sweltering bodies.

This day, just as Jesus had reminded Mary thousands of years before; He was reminding me…

“I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.”

Slowly, I breathed in a deep breath.

“Was this what they heard and felt when the Holy Spirit descended upon them in the Upper Room?” I thought to myself.

Another deep breath. My soul was answering, “I am here, Lord.”

Another deep breath.

My grief-stricken urge diminishes and is replaced by hope, peace, and unimaginable love!


Chris had finished his prayer.

The gust continued to blow escorting us away from the land of the dead. And, as we rose to leave, I joked with everyone that the gust of wind was Pop saying it was time for everyone to go home.  Even in death, he was still telling us what to do!

But was the gust of wind my dad? Or was it something more…something Holy?

My soul feels it was both.