Seems sometimes like I never have an original thought, LOL!  I went to Google to look up the joke apropos for the below article, and found the link was  a blog saying what I was planning on saying!



I had read the  article below,  and immediately thought of the joke about the man about to die, praying for help.  God sent him three different forms of help,  and he rejected each one.

What was he expecting?  Perhaps he thought an angel would appear and pull him up.  Or perhaps some magical sparkles would fly through the air and he would float away.

I am  amazed at how people think God works in some clownish, magician-like way.

I think about the hilarious Bill Cosby, in his Noah diatribe:

“C’mon fat hippo! ugh ugh”

“DING!”  “NOAH!”


God informs him they are the same sex and to fix it.

Noah, exasperated by earthly strain, grouses, “You CHANGE one of ’em!”

“C’mon…..you KNOW I don’t work that way….”

Yeah.  All things must go through the proper channels.

Friends….God answers your prayers.  They might not come the way you expect.  They might be like the old lady crying for bread.

“Lawd, Lawd, send me some bread!”

She cried and prayed and howled….and presently, along came two boys by her hovel.

They heard her pleas. They stopped, listening, with smirky smiles. Suddenly , a novel idea came upon them!  Up the hovel they climbed, and threw the bread down the chimney.

They listened with glee at her screams of joy!

Presently, they knocked at the door, and upon her opening it, began to snarkily gloat that it was THEY, not the LORD, who had sent the bread.

Calmly, the faith-filled woman smiled at the children.  “Oh, the Lord DID send it, even if the devil DID fetch it.”

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

What are you waiting for?

I am horrified and saddened, as are many, by this story. The headline is misleading.  I don’t know what exactly it was they picked, but it was wrong. And their lesson is heartbreaking.
Parents pick prayer over docs; girl dies

By ROBERT IMRIE, Associated Press Writer 16 minutes ago

WESTON, Wis. – Police are investigating an 11-year-old girl’s death from an undiagnosed, treatable form of diabetes after her parents chose to pray for her rather than take her to a doctor.

An autopsy showed Madeline Neumann died Sunday of diabetic ketoacidosis, a condition that left too little insulin in her body, Everest Metro Police Chief Dan Vergin said.

She had probably been ill for about a month, suffering symptoms such as nausea, vomiting, excessive thirst, loss of appetite and weakness, the chief said Wednesday, noting that he expects to complete the investigation by Friday and forward the results to the district attorney.

The girl’s mother, Leilani Neumann, said that she and her family believe in the Bible and that healing comes from God, but that they do not belong to an organized religion or faith, are not fanatics and have nothing against doctors.

She insisted her youngest child, a wiry girl known to wear her straight brown hair in a ponytail, was in good health until recently.

“We just noticed a tiredness within the past two weeks,” she said Wednesday. “And then just the day before and that day (she died), it suddenly just went to a more serious situation. We stayed fast in prayer then. We believed that she would recover. We saw signs that to us, it looked like she was recovering.”

Her daughter — who hadn’t seen a doctor since she got some shots as a 3-year-old, according to Vergin — had no fever and there was warmth in her body, she said.

The girl’s father, Dale Neumann, a former police officer, said he started CPR “as soon as the breath of life left” his daughter’s body.

Family members elsewhere called authorities to seek help for the girl.

“My sister-in-law, she’s very religious, she believes in faith instead of doctors …,” the girl’s aunt told a sheriff’s dispatcher Sunday afternoon in a call from California. “And she called my mother-in-law today … and she explained to us that she believes her daughter’s in a coma now and she’s relying on faith.”

The dispatcher got more information from the caller and asked whether an ambulance should be sent.

“Please,” the woman replied. “I mean, she’s refusing. She’s going to fight it. … We’ve been trying to get her to take her to the hospital for a week, a few days now.”

The aunt called back with more information on the family’s location, emergency logs show. Family friends also made a 911 call from the home. Police and paramedics arrived within minutes and immediately called for an ambulance that took her to a hospital.

But less than an hour after authorities reached the home, Madeline — a bright student who left public school for home schooling this semester — was declared dead.

She is survived by her parents and three older siblings.

“We are remaining strong for our children,” Leilani Neumann said. “Only our faith in God is giving us strength at this time.”

The Neumanns said they moved from California to a modern, middle-class home in woodsy Weston, just outside Wassau in central Wisconsin, about two years ago to open a coffee shop and be closer to other relatives. A basketball hoop is set up in the driveway.

Leilani Neumann said she and her husband are not worried about the investigation because “our lives are in God’s hands. We know we did not do anything criminal. We know we did the best for our daughter we knew how to do.”


The Bracelet, Part II!

Since I have rededicated my interests to that of the spiritual realm as opposed to the earthly aggravations I tend to pointlessly dwell on, I have noticed many fabulous changes.

One of those is that regarding my tendency to analyze and discriminate. (No, not THAT kind of discrimination, silly!) This quality has both its good and bad points, but I have found that I have a shameful tendency to dwell on what I consider others’ flaws.

This could be as foolish as a model’s unusual facial features, (“Oh, look at that model’s skinny legs,” brayed the jackass while snarfing a whole bag of Cheetos…..) to other drivers’ bad behavior, to imagined slights and mild rudenesses. I fight it all the time. I am constantly reminding myself of the hypocrisy and ugliness of it.

But recently, since my update to Spirit version 2008, I have found my road rage has greatly diminished. I am focusing now on the beauties of nature, and the various gifts bestowed on us. My heart is amazed and grateful. However, today, I found myself easing through an intersection and suspiciously looking back at a car that appeared to be about to turn without a turn signal. This usually highly irks me because I so fear a collision, being a courier.

Then, the second I did it, the correctional thought occurred, and I looked down at my God Loves You bracelet. I took it and pulled it out and went, “SNAP!” Ha ha! Aversion Therapy! I thought, from now on, every time I have judgmental, rude, or hateful thought, I will go snap! with my little attitude adjuster!

What a time waster…hating on innocent people that forgot to switch their blinker, or stop all the way…what a damn shame to spend my energy thinking of that…and when I did, I ALMOST missed a most glorious, breathtaking bit of nature!! (hmmmm….does this get you thinking, or what? Ponder this a moment, my friends…)

My own little rubber band. What’s YOUR little rubber band?

My Mother, My Hero, My Angel

My mother is my hero.

She is the bravest, strongest, most shining soldier in God’s Army that I know, shining unconditional love, and she doesn’t even go to church anymore. She made me what I am today.

There is a psychic whose work she loves. This is one of our rare points of contention. This person does not set well with me-enough said.

She got tickets to see her and and won the “lottery” of being one of those called up on stage to speak to her!

My mother bounded up, exploding with happees, so overwhelmed to get to meet this person whom she felt was a friend. “I KNEW it! I KNEW it!” she cried with joy.

“You’re psychic,” durred the psychic.

This person, who previously had been leaning forward to communicate with the people called up, suddenly pulled back, wary, watching my mother.

My mother was dumbfounded. I was NOT. Her positive energy can be intimidating, but she did not expect it to happen here.

This incident inspired me to email our friends about this unexpected visit, but being the heels-kicking-up-Donkee I am, I had to further my excitement by saying what it made me think of.

I was for some reason reminded of Lord of the Rings, when the women and children hid in the tower, and cowered in fear.

I suddenly knew my mother would NOT have been cowering! She would have been leading the group, like Scarlett O’Hara, all eyes looking to her for guidance. (She’s fairly bossy, LOL!)

She would be leading them in songs, and games, and play! The children would not know about the outside threat, and she would bravely entertain them.

If evil came to the door, she would meet it there, just like Scarlett, and fight to the last bloody bone. She does not fear evil.

The bloody bone…

When my mother was five, she was shot in the leg by accident. Her father rushed her to the hospital. Her blood type was rare, and they had to go out on the street and appeal to strangers for help. Her leg was practically hanging by a sinew , and they wanted to remove it. She fought them and she kept it.

The gouge is deep to the ligaments, and a wound would be a frightening challenge-she protected it well over the years, and became a slow, deliberate mover because of it.

But one day, she was careless, and brushed it against a corner of a cardboard box. It tore the teensy bit of skin and made a hole.

One that would simply NOT heal.

My mother has many scars: one from falling in scalding water, one from cancer on her face, on her breast-she fought and beat cancer-her leg, her upper thighs, filled with buckshot (she sets off the airport alarms) . She watched TWO of her childhood homes burn to the ground. Her female organs were also not spared insult-this beautiful woman who should have had many children (she is the oldest of ten!) instead suffered miscarriages. Instead she became a day care mother for several years, a vessel from which to pour her love: the children cried when they had to go home- the parents stayed for cookies and became friends.

This wound did not heal for seven years. Then, one day, she got a message, “Brenda, your leg will heal.”

She told dad a couple of days later, and they talked about how there was no blood getting to that area.

Then he said, “Why don’t you PUT a little blood in it?” and she did. The hole healed almost immediately.

Another of life’s little miracles.

They happen to us all the time. She taught me how to listen to the messages, and how to love. I did not inherit her bravery, but I work at it. I remember a dream she told me of, that my cousins Greggy and Karlton were playing in her sewing room and came running to her, terrified. She went to the room. There was an evil spirit in it, terrorizing them. She became furious and told it <deleted>. It got the Hell out of there. I see her having this same courage in real life.

I am now fighting personal battles that require bravery that comes nothing close to hers. I don’t have it. So I use another tactic. I got it from “Defending Your Life” with Albert Brooks. One scene got me rather teary…on a game show in Judgment City, a man was asked if he was going to face his fear, and he said yes! The game show host got excited and said, “He’s facing his fear! He’s facing his fear!” I never forgot it.

Then, not long ago, something new came to me, “The angels cheer when you face your fear!”

My face warms with a thrill, just writing it! 🙂

Now, when I face a conflict, and I am trying hard, I say it to myself, sometimes like a mantra, and imagine them supporting me when I pass up my temptations, or try to be brave.

She has taught me so much.

The ICHC Miracle

A poster sits before the screen

His hunger deep, his count’nance mean

His soul craves what his tongue can’t ask

So fragile it must wear a mask.

Be careful what you say to him

Our new admirer

Our new cheezfrend

He sees the fun but feels alone

Greet him warmly to our home

Oh, cheezfrend, feed that hungry soul!

Bestow 5 burgers!

Fill that hole!

Encourage our friend to play and prance

When he is first, let’s throw a dance!

The world is full of rude and cold

It’s harsh out there!

We must be bold!

And reach out with a loving plate

Of human kindness…it’s ne’er too late.

An “Investment” ;)

The other day I was telling my mother that I had come to the conclusion that I needed to buy a bracelet.

This came to me because I realized there are so many times I am flailing, drowning, in a sea of despair, and I forget that I have Help. This is one of the many challenges of living on Earth, our perceived separation from the Infinite One. I decided that if I were to buy a special bracelet that I could see at all times, I would not forget, and it would be a special blessing. Necklaces are nice, but you can’t always see them. Especially as a driver, my wrist is always in my line of sight!

I was a little down and feeling guilty because I missed a day of pay today to take care of a financial responsibility. I stood in front of the door at 10:48 am and stared at the closed sign. “Will return 11:00” it said. I was flummoxed. Oh, well, I can wait 10 minutes. I glanced next door at the Hallmark store.

“Going Out of Business” and “75% off everything” the signs said. I smiled with glee and went inside.

I looked around for a long time for a gift for my mother or father but saw nothing special. I was about to leave and saw the charms behind the desk.

I asked the clerk about the ones that seemed like silver squares stuck together. There were long bands, too, longer than bracelets. I asked, puzzled, if these were chokers? No, she explained, they were just long bands of separate-able pieces from which you could create your own bracelet!

She went on to explain they had 14 k gold on them, and retailed between 18 and 36 dollars a piece. She would sell them to me for one dollar a piece.

I carefully looked through them. I didn’t want her spending an hour trying to find the words and then find that there was one letter missing that we required. Finally I called her over. I told her it was okay if the letters were different colors, but instead she painstakingly made sure every word looked good.

I now have a bracelet on my wrist. It says, “God Loves You”, has 3 doves, 3 peace symbols, a house (church?), a shooting star, and a WWJD?

She rang it up. It was a $360 value, for $20. I thought I would cry.

This was something even my curmudgeonly father could appreciate! He inspected it with a gleam of appreciation in his eye.

Truly, a wonderful investment.

The Investment

Painting of Me

Click here to have your own painting of your personality made for you!

The Marlboro Man and the Bed Stealer

I used to work in the home health care field. I have tremendous respect for nurses’ aides and home health aides. It’s exhausting, often thankless, sometimes dangerous! work for usually not very good pay. You really must have your heart in it. Those who don’t, have no business doing this work. I’ve had so many funny, touching, and memorable experiences working in this field. Here is one of the highlights:

Mr. L liked to smoke. Oh, did he like to smoke. Being that his home was a convalescent center, though, this was not a common treat for him. He was reduced to smoking at certain breaktimes. He also got one beer a day. You can certainly appreciate any opportunity to smoke was met with a quickness to the breakroom.

The Bed Stealer liked to steal beds. It mattered not whose. He was not a particular man. Any old bed would do, besides his own. The bed was always snoozier on the other side of the hall.

The Bed Stealer was not a dull man. No, he was quite bright, apparently, for one day, when faced with the lack of enticing beds, he hatched a plan.

Now, I do not know if the Bed Stealer had happened upon this room and decided he liked the look and feel of this particular bed, or was just getting some particular glee out of twerping this particular victim, but he set his eye on…The Marlboro Man.

He informed the M.M. , “They’re smoking in the breakroom.”

Sweeter words never spoken. Oh, evil Bed Stealer!!

Imagine this man, shuffling along the corridor, eyes as intense as eagles, the door at the end of the corridor his salvation.

“Smoking…smokin the breakroom….breakroom…they’re smokin…in the…smokin in the…they’re smoking in the…they’re smokin…” he mumbled to himself as he went down the hall.

I was not there when the M.M. entered the breakroom, nor was I there, to see the expression and response at the cold, heartless response, “No, Mr. L., no one is smoking.”

I can only imagine very vividly, what transpired when a highly infuriated Mr. L returned to his room and found the Bed Stealer–the Liar!!!– WALLOWING! in his bed.

Shall we mercifully close the curtain on this scene?