There is a king that lives in a great country called America.  This king is so exceedingly fond of fine new clothes that he spends vast sums of money on the finest clothes in all the lands. To him clothes meant more than anything else in the world. He took no interest in his army, nor did he care to go to the theatre, or to cruise through large cities in his limousine, unless it was to display his new clothes. He had different robes for every single hour of the day.

In the great city where he lived life was gay and strangers were always coming and going.  Everyone knew about the King’s passion for clothes.

Now one fine day two swindlers named Holder and Petraeus, calling themselves Royal Designers, arrived. They declared that they could design the “coolest” cloth to make the most regal outfits – suits and robes that one could imagine, in the most beautiful colors and elaborate patterns. Not only was the material so wonderful, but the clothes made from it had the special power of being invisible to everyone who was stupid or not loyal, and who is unfit for his position!

“What a splendid idea!” thought King Obama, “If I had such a suit of clothes I could know at once which of my people are stupid and disloyal to my plans for taking over the world.  Now I can surely be the most powerful man of all time, and my New World Order will happen right on time!  After all, I’m black and I deserve it, and the people owe it to me, anyway.”

So King Obama gave the swindlers large sums of money and the two designers set up their looms and sewing machines in the White House, just down the hall from the Oval Office.  They demanded the finest thread of the best silk, imported from France and exotic areas in Asia, and the finest gold which they would claim to weave into the material.  So they pretended to work at their looms to produce cloth.  But they put nothing on the looms.  The frames stood empty.  The silk and gold thread they stuffed into their bags.  So they sat pretending to weave, and continued to work at the empty loom till late into the night.  Night after night they went home with their money and their bags full of the finest silk and gold thread.  Day after day they pretended to work.  They worked so fast and furious that King Obama gave them occasional bonuses of gold, federal bonds, and insider trading secrets.

Some weeks passed by, and the King was eager to know how much of his new clothes had been completed, and would love to see for himself.  As King Obama started to step out from behind his big, golden desk in the Oval Office, suddenly he had a thought.  A very, very scary thought, and became somewhat uneasy. “Suppose,” he thought secretly, “suppose I am unable to see the clothes. That would mean I am either stupid or unfit for my throne – or BOTH!  That cannot be,” he thought.  But in my entire kingdom, no one is nearly as smart as I am.  Well, all the same he decided to send for his faithful old assistant, Biden Silverhair, to go and see. “I will send him first to see how the clothes look.  He is far from smart as everyone knows, but I will see what his reaction is, because he is stupid, but loyal to my throne.”

So faithful old Biden hobbled into the hall where the two designers sat beside the empty looms and sewing machines, pretending to work fast and furious, with all their might.

Biden opened his eyes wide. ‘Upon my life!’ he thought. ‘I see nothing at all, nothing.’ But he did not say so, lest everyone would really know how stupid he was.

The two swindlers begged him to come nearer and asked him how he liked their work. “Are not the colors exquisite, and see how intricate are the patterns,” they said.  The poor old assistant stared and stared.  Still he could see nothing, for there was nothing.  But he did not dare to say he saw nothing. ‘Nobody must find out,’ thought he.  ‘I must never confess that I could not see the stuff.’

“Well,” said one of the rascals, Holder. “You do not say whether it pleases you.”

“Oh, it is beautiful — most excellent, to be sure. Such a beautiful design, such exquisite colors, that I can’t even describe it!  I shall tell the King how enchanted I am with the clothes.”

“We are very glad to hear that,” said the designers, as they weaved, and started to describe the colors and patterns in great detail. The old assistant listened very carefully so that he could repeat the description to the King. They also demanded more money and more gold thread, saying that they needed it to finish the clothes, the gold thread was the miracle that made the spell work.  But, of course, they put all they were given into their bags and pockets and kept on working at their empty looms and sewing machines.

Soon after this the King sent another official, Janet, to see how the men were getting on and to ask whether the clothes would soon be ready.  Exactly the same thing happened with her as with Biden.  She stood and stared, but as there was nothing to be seen, she could see nothing.

“Is not the material beautiful?”  Petraeus echoed his partners’ words, as he talked of the patterns and the exquisite colors.  “Stupid I certainly am not,” said Janet.  Then she mused silently, ‘So, perhaps I am unfit for my post.  But nobody shall know that I could not see the material.’  Then she praised the work, and how fast and furious their work is coming along.

To the King, she said when she returned, “The clothes they are making for you are truly magnificent, and your hired tailors are truly something, Holder is working fast and furious for you, and Petraeus is digging his heels in, too.  What an intelligent King you are, and how regal you will look in such wonderful, custom made things!”  Janet knew she had better spread it on thick; there was no way she would risk her undeserved highly-paid, but imaginary position in the kingdom, or her wonderful medical plan she could not lose.   There’d be no settling for Obamacare like the peasants!

Everybody in all the big cities had heard of the secret clothes and was talking about the splendid material.  And now the King was curious to see the costly stuff for himself while it was still in production.  Accompanied by a number of selected assistants, ministers, clerks, and  congress themselves, among whom were the two poor assistants who had already been before; the King went to the sewing room.  There they sat in front of the empty machines, weaving and sewing more diligently than ever, yet without a single thread to be seen.

“Is not the cloth magnificent?” said the two assistants.  “See here, the splendid pattern, the glorious colors.  The gold thread is the secret that creates the spell, you know.  Also, each of the edges will be adorned with intricate stitches of the gold threading.”  Each pointed to the empty machines.  Each thought that the other could see the material.

“What can this mean?” said the King said to himself.  “This is terrible. Am I so stupid? Am I not fit to be the King?  This is disastrous,” he thought.  At last he said aloud, “Oh, the cloth is perfectly wonderful. It has a splendid pattern and such charming colors.”  And he nodded his approval and smiled appreciatively and stared at the empty machines.  He would not, he could not, admit he saw nothing, when his two assistants had praised the material so highly.  And all his people looked and looked at the empty machines.  Not one of them saw anything there at all.  Nevertheless, they all said, “Oh, the cloth is magnificent.”  They advised King Obama to have some new clothes made from this splendid material to wear in the great procession the following day.

“Magnificent.” “Excellent.” “Exquisite,” went from mouth to mouth and everyone appeared pleased.  Each of the swindlers was given a decoration to wear in his button-hole to display the title of “Designer Knight for King Obama.”

The rascals, Holder and Petraeus, sat up all that night and worked, burning more than sixteen candles, so that everyone could see how busy they were making the suit of clothes ready for the procession.  Each of them had a great big pair of scissors and they cut in the air, pretending to cut the cloth with them, and sewed with needles without any thread.

There was great excitement in the palace and King Obama’s clothes were the talk of the town.  At last the designers declared that the clothes were ready.  Then the King, with the most distinguished gentlemen of his administration, came to the designers.  Each of the swindlers lifted up an arm as if he were holding something. “Here are Your Majesty’s trousers,” said one. “This is Your Majesty’s mantle,” said the other. “The whole suit is as light as a spider’s web. Why, you might almost feel as if you had nothing on, but that is just the beauty of it.  This is the latest trend in Paris as well, you know.”

“Magnificent,” cried the ministers, but they could see nothing at all. Indeed there was nothing to be seen.

“Now, King, if would graciously consent to take off your clothes,” said the designers, “we could fit on the new ones.” So the Emperor laid aside his clothes and the swindlers pretended to help him piece by piece into the new ones they were supposed to have made.

The King turned from side to side in front of the long glass as if admiring himself.

“How well they fit. How splendid Your Majesty’s robes look: What gorgeous colors!” they all said.  “Oh King, live forever!  The clothes match your eyes, and make them shine a little brighter!”  cried Nancy, continuing to butter the King.

“The canopy which is to be held over Your Majesty in the procession is waiting,” announced Lord Clinton as she motioned for him.  She was the King’s top aide.

“I am quite ready,” announced the King, and he looked at himself again in the mirror, turning from side to side as if carefully examining his handsome attire.

The courtiers who were to carry the train felt about on the ground pretending to lift it: they walked on solemnly pretending to be carrying it.  Nothing would have persuaded them to admit they could not see the clothes, for fear they would be thought stupid or unfit for their posts, and lose their extravagant pay and stealthy medical plan.

And so the King set off under the high canopy, at the head of the great procession.  It was a great success.  All of the King’s men and all of the King’s people were standing by and at the windows cheered and cried, “Oh, how splendid are the King’s new clothes.  What a magnificent train!  How well the clothes fit!”  No one dared to admit that he couldn’t see anything, for who would want it to be known that he was either stupid or unfit for his post?

None of the King’s clothes had ever met with such success.

But among the crowds a little child suddenly gasped out, “But he hasn’t got anything on.”  And the people began to whisper to one another what the child had said. “He hasn’t got anything on.” “There’s a little child saying he hasn’t got anything on.”  Till everyone was saying, “But he hasn’t got anything on.”  The King himself had the uncomfortable feeling that what they were whispering was only too true. “But I will have to go through with the procession,” he said to himself, and held his head high as he pretended nothing was wrong.

So he drew himself up and walked boldly on holding his head higher than before, and the courtiers held on to the train that wasn’t there at all.

And the moral of the story is:

It doesn’t do justice for the people of your kingdom if you hire idiots to do work for you.  Everyone is so busy busting their humps for their own little piece of the pie and their medical plan, that the entire country (eventually our world, as well!) suffers because no one will stand up and demand that our laws, which have always served our nation exceptionally well, are for everyone.  EVERYONE.  And so, to this day, everyone in America goes on pretending that our King is doing such a wonderful job, that they pretend not to notice that “America, The Beautiful” is crying, for her people will not be comforted.


This satire was adapted from a child’s fable, written by freelance blogger Rhonda J. Heim for purposes of entertainment and provocation of thought to bring honor back to America.  CREDIT:  The original story was written by the wonderful author Hans Christian Andersen (born on April 2, 1805 in Odense, Denmark). He was the son of a poor shoemaker and could hardly attend school. His father died when he was 11 years old. When Hans Anderson was the age of 14 he ran away to Copenhagen. In 1822 he went to the Latin school in Slagelse. He died in Copenhagen on August 4, 1875 in the age of 70 years.




Since the beginning, man has had the opportunities of rebellion for which seeds were embedded deep in his heart and soul, or you can also say, within his conscience mind and subconscious mind.   God not only allowed it, He put it there.  The very first man, Adam, chose to exercise his will of this rebellious nature, and separated himself from those long, cool  evening walks with God in the Garden.  Then he and his wife were evicted forever, and set out to make their way in the world.  They began a family, and the seeds of evil deeds were propagated.    

The way I see it, God desired to make man in His image, with feelings and the capacity to love with passion, to hate equally as strong, and to choose righteousness or rebellion.   Of course, He wants us to choose righteousness that we may have long lives in this world, and of course in the world to come.  But there is a reason He made us with these choices, and gave us opportunity to fail.  I’m sure God has a multitude of reasons why He designed things as they are, but the one He’s laid on my heart for many years now, is as follows:

God had created his angels long before Genesis.  We know this because of His telling about the angels, and the head angel, Lucifer, had gotten jealous of God’s authority and instigated a rebellion of his own.  I have yet to figure how in the world this bad angel could convince others to follow him, after they’d basked in the glorious presence of the Almighty, but he is the deceiver.  Once an angel falls – there is no salvation for them.  No turning back.  I think that would seem fair, considering their station in the celestial town, and in the eternal Presence of God; you would think they could stay “sin-free.”  Ah, but man couldn’t do it, either.

The angels praise God, give Him glory, and do His bidding every day for eternity.  Somehow, God was still missing something:  you and me.  He wants a family relationship.  Our Father IS the holy and sin-free Almighty Creator of all things, and He wants to be with us, but is unable to relate to us directly in our present state of unholy humanity.  And so, our Father had a plan, and nothing we can do or say, could ever change the facts, or even surprise Him.  Truly, “there is nothing new under the sun,” as the Bible says.  But God is very active in the daily lives of His creations.  Like a good parent, He stays silent and lets us mess up all we want.  Then when we come to the end of our rope, and our mistakes make us sick of life, He is there, ready to change and mold us.  He directs the paths of those who allow it, and guides us back toward Him, always forgiving, always loving us.   He goes to great lengths to save us from ourselves over and over again.

But then – the time comes when we are faced with truths that we cannot deny:  GOD IS.  It’s at that point we decide whether to live for ourselves, or run to our Almighty Creator and find reasons and purpose for the utterly immortal lives we live.  We all must eventually come to the conclusion that, this can’t be “it.”  There has to be a “reason” for my life, and for the things that happen.  At some point in our lives, when the hand of Almighty God moves us, intervenes in our lives in ways that cannot be explained with logic or reason that He takes it upon Himself to single us out and call or draw us to come and walk with Him.  I reached that point at a very early age, but I got lost a few times along the way.

Looking back now, I see the very specific ways in my life, where God did intervene in my life, to set me back where I started.  The side roads that entrapped me were the paths that caused me great pain in my life, including mental and emotional, physical and even spiritual pain.  But at the times God moved on my behalf — I would’ve forever destroyed my own life, if it weren’t for Him.  I can see in the past where, when my prayers weren’t answered, it was surely the right thing at those times.  Sometimes we just get so bogged down with the ‘stuff’ of life that we don’t see all the tangled, sticky messes that we’ve created.  When we pray for God’s blessing in the web of our own creation, He can’t bless that.  Many times He can’t even work in our lives until we give up some of our attitude and selfishness long enough to let Him do something.  

One time in particular, while serving in the military and a single mom, too, and after having just gone through a second divorce, I was far from home and family, mostly alone and dating another soldier whom I thought was Mr. Wonderful.  I thought he was the ‘right one.’  I prayed my heart out for things to work out.  I did a lot of crying and stressing, and my suffering was seemingly endless until, finally I learned to not pray like that.  In fact, it was childish!  No matter how hard we try, we just can’t make the wrong person in to the right one.  I still had not learned that lesson at that time, after messing that up — twice.  At this point in life, it wasn’t just my life, either, but my children’s.  Something had to give.

A child asks, even begs for what he or she wants, and in the immaturity of that stage in life, they may even throw a tantrum.  That was my tantrum.  I was under a huge load of baggage, and in a place where I couldn’t see or feel the love of God.  He was there all along, but I was wrapped in a web of destruction and headed down a very long road, taking all the wrong turns.  The opportunities for better directions did arise, but I always took the wrong ones.  At that point in my life, I no longer trusted myself to make good decisions. 

At the end of my rope, I went in to a nearby church looking for help.  I was sick and tired of making mistakes.  It was my fault that I didn’t do what I knew was right.  I didn’t seek God’s approval, I chose to date people that ‘seemed’ right, or ‘looked’ a certain way.  Many, many folks today make that same mistake.  Some say, “Well, I can’t date someone that I’m not attracted to!”  But in my experience, I learned that getting to know the heart of a person makes them more (or in some cases, less!) attractive.  The face of a man or woman has very little to do with his or her ability for building a long-lasting and happy life together, and whether or not he is capable of warmth, understanding, and having relationship skills needed to build a great family.  Isn’t that what we seek in a lifetime partner?

Well, soon after I gave up on myself, God picked me up, dusted me off, and sent me to a really faraway place, where I found what I needed and was searching for all that time.  Stay tuned and visit my blogs again!  But before you go, please let me give a blessing to you:  May the Lord bless you and keep you, May He make His face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you;  May He lift up His countenance and give you Peace.   Thank you for reading this

The Prisoner in My Mind

The Prisoner in My Mind

By R. J. Heim

Memories, Sweet Memories.  We love to think about the sweetest times of our lives.  One thing I remember well as a child, was gathering together at my grandmother’s house on Sundays and holidays.  I had oodles of cousins, and so many happy memories invade my thoughts of times we spent together, often thinking of “the way it used to be.”  We used to walk up the hill together to watch for a train to go by.  One time we encountered a racer rattlesnake that terrified me, but even that memory brings an automatic smile to my face.  Sometimes the thoughts of our playing then are evoked to my mind suddenly, caused by the smell of an oncoming train, of fresh cut grass, or the smell of green beans and steaming cornbread being set out on the table.  Ah, those were the days!

Those were the days, before being a growing up, paying bills and having responsibilities.  That was when summer was fun, and anxiety of going back to school in the fall was my worst problem.  When my seemingly endless summer days could be spent playing outdoors, riding bikes and skating.  Time seemed to last forever then.  As time moved on, though, getting a little older seemed to make time go a little quicker, even though it was hard to wait to get to the good stuff of life – once I arrived, time passed so quickly.  Being a kid, too young for this and that, it was hard to wait — getting to high school, turning 16 and getting the all-important driving license, then prom, and graduation – the exciting stuff.  I was in such a hurry for all that.  Now, I wonder why?

Looking back on my life now, I often think, ‘Why was it that I was in a hurry?’  And as so many of us, as adults say, ‘If only I had known then, what I know now …’ I would have done things differently!  Many times I hear people say they’d wished a time machine could really be invented.  Well, I wouldn’t go that far, because my children wouldn’t be who they are – and I really like those people!

But I was in a hurry to grow up, move up, move out, and get on with my life.  I meant to do a lot of things along the way  to where I was going.  Like some random flip through a rolodex of cards, time flashed by much too fast.  And as it did, it seemed that the ‘stuff’ of life would carry me away like the wind, and chances for the things I wanted were forever lost in the wind.  I married too young.  I became a mother too soon.  I forgot my dreams along the way, and before long, the things that I had wanted were forever gone in wasted chances.  I was sure to pass along this lesson to my children … Yes, I wanted a better life for them than I had.  But isn’t it odd how kids never seem to want their parents’ lessons?

The life that we choose for ourselves seldom turns out as we plan or hope.  Even when we do end up with what we wanted, it’s often ‘different’ than what we’d thought it would be.  Like the old saying, ‘the grass always seems greener on the other side.’  Life teaches us that that sure is true!

That was true for me.  As a very young woman, I knew that I really wanted to be a wife and mother.  I had also wanted to be a nurse … an army nurse, specifically.  Then I wanted to stay home during my child-rearing years to be a full-time mom.  I dreamt of the ballgames, the music lessons, being the room mother, the Cub Scout mom … I wanted it all.

But as relationships come and go in life, we tend to let people and circumstances change the way we think and act, or react … and those are the things that change who we ultimately become.   So I skipped ahead and just settled for the wife and mother roles, which I dearly loved.  But when as a young wife, I encountered some of the unexpected things of life that followed, and some of those that forever destroyed my perfect little family.  A downward spiral of events would cause more tragedy to carry me away into a place that I never wanted to be.  It felt like raw wounds and it would never heal.

So much of what ensued, left me a damaged and scarred person.  I had always heard that anyone can go after what they want, but I learned that that is not always what you get, no matter how hard you pursue it. I never believed in divorce, but I became a believer.  When emotions get tangled in webs of the other person’s lies and deceit, sicknesses and infidelities, we can become emotionally handicapped in a way that leaves us with painful memories and depression.  Sometimes these last for the rest of our lives, and mine did.

Learning to live with the scars felt like I was chained to a boulder that I’d drag around.  There were callouses left by my scars, and produced a tough exterior.  In some places, I no longer felt pain, and in some ways, I had built up a shell to cover the hurts that I could, which only served to created more mistakes in my life.  Suddenly I became aware that my life was nothing like what I had hoped and dreamed about.  The things that I went through during those years crushed my spirit, drastically affected my health and, for a while at least, my will to live.  I only existed from one day to the next – to care for my children.  It was a dark place in my life, my home, and everything that I touched.   I knew I had to have change, or I was not going to live through this!

Drastic change is what pulled me out of the ugly place that I was in; it was the only way that I could fight my way back toward any kind of a normal life.  Thank God, I never had any problems with addictions, or I would’ve lost myself, probably forever, after all I had been through.  But I knew that no matter what my decisions were, the life that I found myself stuck in had to be changed.  No matter which direction I headed into, it was going to cause pain for me, and for my little ones.  To this day, the hurts that I’ve experienced during my dark times, haunt my mind, my dreams at night, and have reared up to cause difficulties along the way for the rest of my life.  For more than 30 years now, I have lived with these things that have kept my mind prisoner to memories that threaten my sanity.

There is life after mistakes and pain, for sure!  God forgives freely, and we have to learn to forgive also, both ourselves AND those who hurt us, because it’s the only true path to freedom.  I was able to get turned around, and I found the love of my life, my path to becoming a nurse, and even served a short time in the military – not in that order, but I became determined to stop letting my life beat me up.  I did manage to do most of the things I’d always wanted to do, but being the mom that I wanted to be was limited by my ability to be there for my kids, and their childhood was marked by the traumas of divorce.  Praise God, they all turned out to be fantastic adults by the grace of God, who brought us all through it.  But even when we get past the major  troubles in life and all is forgiven, and we are lucky enough to survive intact, there will still be resulting consequences from the past that will crop up and mar our ‘happily ever after.’  Those are unpleasant side effects that we have to learn to live with, but when we learn from mistakes, we gain wisdom in life, hopefully!  The horrid pain will never be forgotten, and really can make us a prisoner of our own mind by the awful burden of memories that we bare, and the consequences of the past, but we don’t have to be held captive and stay under the spell.  So I write to send out my little bit of wisdom and encouragement to others who are, or have struggled with life:

Slow down and enjoy where you are now, because you may never pass this way again.  Enjoy every step of the life you live.  Set goals, and try to make it to each one.   But, if you don’t like your life, you are probably living in a way that is not meant for you… make a change!  You have so many other places that you could be, so many chances to change.  Every day is a new opportunity to change something.  You may feel like I did, and go for a sudden, big change because of dangerous situations  – or you may only want or need ‘baby steps.’  But either way, you have only one earthly life to live, so make it count, make it what you want or at least as great as possible.   One goal I want to share is this:  Live your life to have the fewest regrets that you possibly can, and make as many happy memories as you can.  And my prayer for all who read my writings:  May the Lord bless you and keep you, may He make His face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you; may He lift up His countenance and give you Peace.




 “Why AM I so different?” 

To tell you the truth, I’ve been asked this question since, probably, elementary school.  When we are kids, that’s about the last thing we want to hear, as children always want to ‘fit in.’ I’ve always realized that I have been a little different from others my own age, and that used to make me very uncomfortable.  Growing up in the 60’s and 70’s, it was just ‘not cool’ to be different — goodness forbid you don’t look and dress like everyone else!  I had a few strikes against me from several directions, since birth, as my family was a little different.  The differences between myself and other kids caused me a great deal of insecurity back in those days.  These led to bigger, longer lasting symptoms such as low self-esteem, extreme shyness, feeling inadequate, and a lot of somatic symptoms, like headaches and stomachaches.   I can recall it feeling like a sword piercing my heart to have people actually notice any differences, or even to disagree with me!  It felt very personal.

                  Of course, as I had grown older, (or is it just because it’s a different age in time?) I did outgrow those somatic and life altering symptoms.  I learned to be my own person regardless of what others’ thought, or of who would like me.  I became the type of person who couldn’t stand for going along with a crowd or clique, if it meant lying, cheating, dishonesty, or shunning other people.  I became the kid who stepped in and took up for the underdog, once a Chinese friend of mine, another time a Jewish neighbor.  I knew how it felt to be different, and I couldn’t stand to watch it happen to someone else – especially if I had the power to stop it.   Over the past decade or so, I have noticed that many, many cases are reported in the news where school-aged and high school kids are bullied, sometimes even literally to “death!”  In many cases, it’s been reported that accidental death came from mistreatment leading to abuse, and other cases where tortured young souls took their own lives because of the pain of living.  Why on earth does this happen?  Sometimes these kids just grow up to be underachieving grown-ups that just never measure up.   I believe these things happen because people want so badly to “fit in,” or be “like everyone else.”  Some want it so badly, that they’d rather die than go on living.  Why do they really want the approval of these kinds of people? 

                Kids go through stages of maturity that include grouping or pairing off, approval of peers, industry, and so on, and these are normal stages of maturing.  Children should be taught these changes and life stages, preferably before they arrive there.  By warning them ahead of time, we as parents can head off the shock of the hard parts of growing up, and help prevent much of the anxiety of dealing with these growing pains in life.  I’ve always been big on teaching into these teachable moments in my kids’ lives, and trying to cushion some of the disappointments that are inevitable.  We can’t help them with everything, but we can help with some of these things that we all must go through.  There are a lot of things I wish I had known ahead of time, and if I had, I would’ve handled differently.    

                Looking back at the way our kids grew up, I made my share of mistakes, but I am really glad that we sat down together at the dinner table often, and talked about things – and my only regret about that – is that we didn’t do it more.  Looking at our kids now, they are adults who know that they can be their own person, and that they can talk to us any time, about anything, and not feel like they are aliens who are the first to experience whatever they’re going through.  Our kids grew up to be our very best friends … and isn’t that the goal all along?


Hello there, my name is Rhonda, for those of my readers who don’t know me in person.  I decided to begin my blogging life at 49 years of age, and for many reasons.  I really wished I’d heard of blogging long before now … in fact, I wish I had been writing all this time.  Many people I have talked with, like myself, are born writers, or at least “in our heads” we are writers.  Almost ALL the time, I visualize events and conversations in my head – IN WORDS.  I’ve heard of musicians often talking about seeing music, or lyrics.  I see creative words to explain details, and I always have.  Well now, I am about to conclude my first half a century of life, or as I once read in MORE Magazine:  “entering the second half of life,” and I’ve wasted so much time, so, let’s get going!

First and foremost, I am a child of God and firm and confident in my walk of Hebraic Christian faith.  I am the wife of a wonderful man, a nurse like myself, only he just feels the need to keep getting education and climbing, but that’s okay, I still like him.  He is a good, Hebraic Christian man also, firmly planted.  As I always say, he was not my first husband – but he is my real husband.  Some of you who’ve been with the wrong one first—will appreciate that!  We have a beautiful relationship, the three of us, God included.  I guess you’d say we are soul mates, as I see marriage at the heavenly level AND at the earthly one.  Our main relationship is with God, and our primary earthly or human relationship is our life partner.  When priorities are in balance, life feels good.

I have four kids, two boys then two girls, and all grown up.  Three of them have children of their own now, the last one is a professional college student and drama queen.  (No, I’m serious.)  I have four granddaughters and one grandson, and these people keep life lovely and interesting.  I absolutely LOVE watching my kids as parents.  It’s better than any Red Box movie or live comedy show!   I’m sure I will be blogging some of that later on.  So, stay tuned!

As I round the corner to 50, I find myself at home a whole lot.  Currently unable to do my job any longer, currently unable to be deemed ‘disabled,’ I am what they call between a rock and a hard place.  I am a licensed nurse, and I loved my job, mostly.  I loved taking care of people, helping others.  I had that addiction to the feeling of living a worthwhile life, and coming home every day feeling like I made a difference in someone’s day – if not, in their lives.

The nurse in me was always so similar to the mother in me, that sometimes the lines did blur a bit, and so I did a lot of both, at work AND at home:  both mothering AND nursing.  Of all the hats I’ve worn and such, I guess some of my favorites would be, besides wife, mother and grandmother, is:  Bible scholar, children’s Bible teacher, cake decorator, hobbyist photographer, writer, and uncredentialed counselor (or just listener).

Also, I’ve been one to enjoy the experiences of new and different things along this path we like to call ‘life.’  I always had a desire to do a list of things before I leave this old world; I’ve come to call it my ‘Bucket List.’  Of course, being a wife and mother were at the top, but I always wanted to be a nurse, join the military, travel to Israel, Germany, and as many other places as possible.  I always wanted to do a lot of writing, publish at least one book, get a college degree, and live my last years as close to God as humanly possible, like Enoch, who walked with God until he was not, for God took him

I hope this little introduction to ME helps you to know me, to understand my blogs a little better, and maybe give you some insight into the things I write, and a glimpse of what I will be writing about in the future.  I hope to even entertain you here and there, along the way.  So please, come by often.  I hope to bless you each time you drop in:  May the Lord bless you and keep you, may He make His face to shine upon you, and  be gracious unto you, may He lift up His countenance upon  you, and give you Peace.