Whoa! It's a LAW!?!

 I bolted awake, about 4:30 this morning. I was dreaming that a junior high student had shot himself in front of his classmates. I was watching how the other students were reacting. What were they doing? Where were they placing blame? Well, I lay awake for at least half an hour, not able to fall back asleep, and so here I am, feeling the need to talk, write, put my feelings out there for the few readers of my writings to see.

I'm in a couple book clubs. One of them is organized by a librarian through a branch of the St. Louis County Library. It was brought to my attention by a friend from a Meetup movie group, because one of the three books the club reads every month is a "book to film," where we are asked to read the book and watch the movie, then come together to discuss the similarities and differences. This past month, we were assigned "The Princess Bride." This month is "To Kill a Mockingbird." Once I got involved with the club, I decided to try reading the other books assigned each month. The other categories are "book journeys" and "African American experience." I am currently reading the June assignment for "book journeys," Untamed by Glennon Doyle. I am struggling to get through it.

The other book club is one I follow on Instagram. It's the LDS Living Book Club, organized by Deseret Book. It focuses on books offered digitally through Deseret Book's Bookshelf+ app. One book is assigned each month. Instagram followers are provided a reading plan, as in how many chapters to read each week, sound bites and quotes from the authors, and a platform for giving feedback and sharing opinions. The book for May was The Law of Love by Steve Young. I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of  Latter-day Saints, since April 2002. My brothers are Southern Baptists. My son is anti-religion. I was listening to an interview with Steve Young about his book, when my son called. As I was pausing the interview, my son asked, "Who's there with you?" I told him I was listening to an interview with Steve Young. He thought of Steve Young, the quarterback for the San Francisco 49ers, and wondered why I would be listening to an interview with a former football quarterback. I told him it was indeed Steve Young the quarterback and explained that he was a member of my Church and had written a book on the law of love. I'm not sure if the sense I got that my son was instantly disinterested came from his feelings about religion and my beliefs or my presumptions about what anyone who's not a member of my church feels about my church and my beliefs, but it was there. I wish it wasn't.

Anyway, it's a great book. It touches on a philosophy I've had for what seems like my whole life: The best way to be of service to another person is to put that person's welfare before your own; and doing that nearly always requires a sacrifice. I don't think Steve brings the sacrifice part into his book; he's focused mainly on helping us see how to love non-transactionally, unconditionally. Glennon's book, on the other hand, seems to focus on how to make your life better by putting your own welfare before the welfare of others. She seems to talk a lot about hate -- who and what she hates, who and what hates her, how she perceives religion as not based on love, but based on rules and restrictions. Her view seems opposite to Steve's. I don't think she gets what love is all about. She sees it as transactional and conditional. To me, these books represent the differences between the world's views and God's commandments.

I love the book of John in the New Testament. It contains many of my favorite scriptures, like John 13:34: "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another, as I have loved you, that ye also love one another." and John 16:33: "These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." You see, love is a commandment, a LAW!?! And the world gives us tribulation!?! Jesus overcame the world with sacrificial love. He overcame tribulation (hatred) with love.

We are studying the Old Testament in Sunday School, and have just finished the book of Judges. There's a fascinating story in Judges 4. A woman named Jael kills a man named Sisera by hammering a nail into his temple. I learned that Jael's name is a combination of the Hebrew names for God and Jesus, Yeshua and Elohim and that Sisera means sin. So Jael killing Sisera with a nail symbolizes God killing sin with a nail, through the Atonement. Cool, huh?

Having explained a bit, here are some examples of how love is better than hate, or how Christ's love is better than the world's view:

Anybody remember the old fable about the sun and the wind sort of wagering on which one could get a man to take off his coat first? The wind tries by blowing at the man, trying to blow his coat off, which causes the man to pull his coat on tighter, bracing against the wind. All the sun does is shine on him, which causes the man to become warm and remove his coat. The moral: Stop trying to force your opinions on everyone else; just love!

I was once the evening shift lead operator in the word processing department of a large law firm. As such, I answered the phone, when the switchboard operators left for the day, and served as the help desk for attorneys who worked through the evening. One of the female partners would occasionally become frustrated when her computer wouldn't do what she wanted it to do. She would call the help desk, which would forward to the word processing department. Whoever answered the phone would be bombarded with a steady flow of foul language and screams of hatred for technology. If I was away from my desk, the assistant lead operator was responsible for answering the phone. My reaction to this partner's calls was to agree with her, express empathy for her situation, and offer to come to her office and fix the problem, at which point the attorney calmed down right away and was able to clearly explain the problem. The assistant's reaction was to explain to the partner that she will not tolerate being talked to that way, and she will not get any help from her until she calms down, at which point the attorney became angrier, and a yelling match ensued. Can you see which represents Christ's love and which represents the world?

There's another fable about a couple of sisters who are as different as hate and love. The older one, Fanny, is rude; the younger one, Rose, is lovely. Their mother favors Fanny and makes Rose do chores, including fetching water from the forest. One day, Rose comes upon an old woman who asks for a drink. Rose gladly gives her a drink, and the woman, who is a fairy in disguise, gives her a gift: whenever she speaks, diamonds and pearls will fall from her mouth. When her mother discovers what has happened, she sends Fanny to fetch water, telling her to be nice to any old women who show up. However, Fanny is approached by a beautiful princess and tells the princess to get her own water. As the fairy has disguised herself as a princess, this time, the gift she gives to Fanny is that, whenever she speaks, snakes and toads will come out of her mouth. 

Finally, I was working a different job that required answering all incoming calls. One day, I kept answering a call that seemed like the person on the other end was trying to intimidate me by not saying anything. After a couple calls like this, I began to say horrible things into the phone and hang up. After about five of these calls, I answered and heard a voice on the other end. The caller explained that he had been trying to get through for awhile, and that he was able to hear me, but I was not able to hear him. As Thumper's father told him, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." In other words, act out of love at all times, not as the world does.

Getting back to my dream... A lot of bad stuff is going on in the world. How we react to it helps shape the direction our world goes. If we react with hate toward individuals who are hateful, there's nowhere for anyone to go for peace. "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal." 1 Corinthians 13:1. If we react with love toward individuals who are hateful, there is an opportunity for peace. "In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." John 16:33.

"What the world needs now is love, sweet love
It's the only thing that there's just too little of
What the world needs now is love, sweet love
No not just for some, but for everyone"

Hal David/Burt Bacharach/Jackie DeShannon

"You feel unloved, Arthur, welcome to the world. Everyone is unloved. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself. And incidentally, I love you." John Gielgud as Hobson, "Arthur"

And I love you, too! All of you. God bless. XOXO

Teah

I'm the Only One Who Really Knows Me

 I've been thinking about a lot of things I want to say. There's so much, and I keep adding more to it. I figure it's time to write some of it down, for posterity.

In high school, I took a creative writing course. The first semester, we wrote poems. The second semester, we wrote a short story. The final for each semester involved each student presenting what they had written to the class. For the poem, we were to follow a theme, research and collect a few poems to read that fit the chosen theme, and then write an original poem. My theme was desperate or peculiar people. My original poem was about a woman who lived alone in a tiny apartment. She was confined to her bed, dying, and had no friends or family to help her. She looked forward to the sunlight falling across her bed every morning. She knew she was dying, but didn't want to slip away, until the sun rose and her friend, the sunbeam, visited. Just as the sunlight touched her blanket, she passed away peacefully. I rewrote the last stanza of the poem a few times, to try to help the listener understand that the old woman was waiting for the sunlight. No matter how I wrote it, all the listeners believed that the visitor she was waiting for was Jesus.

I'm a spiritual person AND a religious person. However, not everything I write about death and dying has to do with Jesus.

In 1991, I took a young woman from church to see Guns 'n Roses at the new Riverport Amphitheater. We had tickets close to the back of the reserved seating area. I had been a huge fan of G'NR, for years, since their beginnings. I had seen them in concert two or three times prior to this. I knew the temperaments of the band and of Axl Rose. I was not surprised, when Axl jumped off the stage to attack a guy who was taking pictures, which was not allowed, and was apparently being allowed to do so, or at least was not being stopped from doing so, by security. Before jumping off the stage, Axl shouted to security to take the camera away from the guy. When they didn't, he decided to do it himself. After he got back onstage, he announced they were through. He threw down the mic and left the stage. The other band members followed him. Slash made it clear they would not be coming back to the stage. I told my friend we should go and get a jump on traffic leaving the venue. A lot of people were hanging around and shouting, expecting the band to come back onstage. I knew they wouldn't be returning. As we left, I turned on the radio, which was playing G'NR songs. It took awhile to get out of the parking lot. Many folks had the same idea as me. I didn't know about the riots and destruction of the venue, until the next morning.

I LOVE G'NR. However, I won't EVER damage property or people because I'm angry about something that happened, regardless of how it got started or why it happened. I can't and won't speak for the actions of others and why they do what they do. Only they know why they do what they do.

In 2012, I was pondering how to vote in the Presidential Election. I wasn't fond of either candidate and didn't feel either candidate represented what I wanted for America or for me. The candidates were Barack Obama and John McCain. Barack Obama was President, at the time of this election. One of my nieces posted on Facebook that she had voted, or was voting, for President Obama. (I don't remember if her post was before or after the election.) I asked her, on Facebook, why she voted for him. Her reply included something along the lines of, "He's doing a good job, and he hasn't done anything wrong." Those words really sank into my heart. From then on, that was basically my philosophy on the Presidency. Each past President seems to have spent the majority of his term pushing Congress to make bills and law on things he is passionate about, to leave a legacy, as well as undoing the things the previous President had accomplished. I have learned that local and state governments define my way of life more significantly than the federal government. Who is President is no longer important to me. I'm more concerned about my council person, my mayor, my county executive. I have Facebook friends from both sides of the aisle and a few who are extreme, whether to the left or the right. In 2012 (and 2008), my right-leaning friends were sharing posts claiming President Obama was a Muslim, didn't celebrate Christmas or say "Merry Christmas." That December, I watched the lighting of the National or White House Christmas Tree, out on the lawn. Upon lighting it, President Obama wished everyone a "Merry Christmas." I heard it. Perhaps those against him won't believe me. Ever. What I learned from this is that only Barack Obama really knows Barack Obama. No one else can really know him. Sure, some can come close and can know him intimately or very well, but no one really knows him, except him, and God. This is true for everyone living. I don't really know anyone else. The only person I really know is me. Of course, I believe God really knows each of us. Perhaps I could ask God to show me what someone is really like, to show me the heart of a person, but what would be the use of that?

No one really knows Donald Trump, but Donald Trump. No one really knows Nancy Pelosi, but Nancy Pelosi. No one really knows Joe Biden, but Joe Biden. No one really knows Mickey Mouse, but Walt Disney. I could go on, but I won't. Or will I? Maybe I'll think about it. But no one but me knows what I'm thinking and feeling. I'm not saying there AREN'T bad people in the government. I'm not saying there ARE, either. I AM saying that our government leaders should pay more attention to the wants and needs of their constituents and stop saying hateful things about other government leaders they disagree with or don't like, for whatever reasons. All that does, in my opinion, is further divide us. When I read hateful or hurtful comments from either side of the aisle, I'm disappointed in the person saying them or sharing them. I don't block these persons or unfriend them. After all, I don't really know why they're doing what they're doing; I don't know what's in their hearts. What was it Thumper's father told him this morning? "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all."

Finally, to try to get my point across and to share a little something of myself: Many people might surmise that, because I'm spiritual and religious, I'm against abortion. I'm not against abortion, but I'm not necessarily for it, either. I'm pro-life AND pro-choice. Isn't everybody? The reason I'm not against abortion is because I've had one. There are probably some folks reading this who are going to decide to hate me, because I've had an abortion. That's okay. I'm not here to judge those people for their feelings. That's on them. But I do have to deal with my own feelings, and I'm the only person who truly knows and understands my thoughts and feelings. This is something I did before I was an adult. It was a very personal decision and something I rarely talk about. As I've gotten older, I've resigned not to participate in discussions of abortion. I have been known to change the subject, when abortion enters a conversation. I'll say, "I'm more concerned about the children who are already born and are being neglected or abused." That's why I became a foster parent. Would I have become a foster parent, if I hadn't had an abortion? Perhaps.

Anyway, I say ALL this, to encourage you to put the welfare of others before your own. You are not ever going to be able to really know the people you read about in the news: the celebrities, the politicians, or the game show hosts. You have a better chance of knowing the people around you a little better, if you look at them as if they are more important than you are. That homeless person on the corner; that neighbor struggling to get groceries from the car into the house; that neighbor who needs groceries, but doesn't have a way to get them; that neighbor who has a sign in the yard that doesn't fit your opinions ... what are you going to do to make that person's day better?

Okay, I'm done. Thanks for reading and commenting. When I acted up, my mother would say to me, "Don't be ugly." In keeping with that, ugly comments will be deleted.

Help, I Need Somebody

The month of July has been a roller coaster of emotion, for me. I have struggled with how to tell folks what's been going on and have decided to put it in my blog journal, where only those truly interested will read it.

10 July, the woman I had been taking care of for two years, was removed from my home, by the government. I was told that she had filed a claim of abuse against me. I was told nothing else, and I didn't ask any questions, because I figured I would just be told that, as the alleged perpetrator, I was not allowed to ask questions, until my investigative interview. The agency that supported this woman seemed to downsize the issue, saying that she would most likely only be out of my house for a week and that it wasn't a big deal. Kind of like these things happen all the time. It is true that this woman had done this before, with another person, and the other person was not charged with anything. I was confused and wondered what I was accused of doing. I couldn't imagine what or how this woman would have told someone, a stranger, about what occurred. We were family. She called me mom, at first because she couldn't remember my name, but it defined our relationship. We were always together. We did everything together. When she was swept away, out of my life, it was heartbreaking. I wondered how she was feeling, but I wasn't allowed to inquire.

For the next 5-6 days, the agency contacted me repeatedly for information that could have been garnered, with a little research. This is the agency that was providing support for her. This was the agency that put us together. They should have had the information they were asking me for, and not have continued to ask me so many questions about her care. I was grieving from having lost her from my home and not being able to visit with her or ask after her. Also, I was not receiving an income, for days she was not in my home.

15 July, the agency called to tell me that this woman had died. I got the call from the same person who had just 10 minutes before sent me a text asking for information and requesting me to sign something. The agency did not have the right contact information for the woman's family, so I offered to call her family. The agency wanted me to tell the family to contact the agency about the funeral arrangements. Now, I'm truly grieving, and I'm feeling angry that I didn't get any closure with this beautiful friend. In addition to calling family, I called all of her doctors and cancelled all her future appointments. I called the pharmacy to let them know, so that they would stop delivering her medicine. I called everyone I knew who had previously worked with her. I didn't receive any condolences or sympathy from anyone at the agency.

16 July, I fulfilled my volunteer obligation at the St. Louis Zoo. Before leaving, I turned in my friends volunteer badge and card, as she had volunteered with me at the Zoo. Later in the week, I received a plant delivery and a sympathy card, from the volunteer coordinators at the Zoo. To this date, I still have not received any form of condolence, sympathy, or recognition of my loss, from the agency or anyone who received payment from the state for assisting my friend.

The text messages continued through the remainder of the week. I felt as though I was being harassed and not allowed to process my grief. On 19 July, the texts stopped, after I sent a catty response to an absolutely unnecessary text asking if something was at my house. I got through the next week as best I could, despite being depressed and not wanting to do anything but sleep, watch TV, and play computer games. I desperately wanted to talk about it with someone, but I felt I was intruding on others lives, and I think, maybe, others didn't know what I needed. Perhaps, also, most folks were not aware how close I was to this woman.

26 July was the visitation and funeral. The family asked me to sit with them. I was deeply touched by that gesture. I was also encouraged to say something, but I wasn't sure what to say. I will now post what I would have read. These are a few paragraphs my mother wrote, back in 1982, just before her father passed away and my son was born:

GOD GAVE US TEARS

When God created man in His own image, He created a whole man – a physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional being. He gave man a physical body, to enable him to move about His world. With the equipment of a mind, man could think, understand, and plan for things God would have him do.  With his spirit, man could have fellowship with the God who made him. Engulfing all of these aspects of being, man was given emotion – the ability to care for others, to have concern for his  fellowman, to have a desire to make the world a better place in which to live, to love people and living things, the ability to laugh – and – the ability – to cry. All of this He gave “in His image,” that we might be like Him.

Thank God for including the tears! Tears of joy at the birth of a babe – of sorrow as that babe confronts the difficulties of life. Tears of joy at his graduation – of sorrow that he begins a life away from home. The tears of joy at his wedding overshadow the sadness of his leaving home for the last time.

How great is God, who gave us the ability to thus express our emotions! Just as Jesus wept over the City of Jerusalem, so we weep over distressing circumstances. As Peter wept upon denying Christ, so we weep over our wrongdoing. And, as Jesus wept at the burial place of a friend, so we weep over the death of a loved one, and God sees and understands, because He, too, has wept.

As a child known for unceasing tears, once they began to flow, I came to look upon my tears as a weakness. Yet, through them, I found a special release that I did not find elsewhere. It was not until the death of my husband that I came to know that God doesn’t mind the tears. As I let them flow freely, when I was alone with God, they were no longer a sign of weakness to me, but a release of loneliness that only God understood. As my tears flowed to God, His love and understanding flowed back to me. God gave me tears. In shedding them, I felt a newness of His love.

Marcella Simmons

Fall 1982

After the funeral, I drove for 7 hours, to my 45th high school reunion. While I did enjoy myself and seeing everyone, the depression and grief kept tugging at me to the point that I opted out of going to the party at the Elks lodge for those who graduated throughout the decade of the 1970s.

I returned home to continue doing nothing, filled with anxiety and continued grief, not really knowing what to do. 30 July, I fulfilled my volunteer commitment at the Visitor Relations booth at the Zoo. Afterward, I traveled to the Department of Mental Health, to fulfill my obligation to be interviewed in the investigation of the allegation of abuse against me by the woman whose death I am still grieving. The investigator either didn't know or pretended not to know anything about the accuser or me, including why we were together, how long we had been together, and where the woman is now. By the end of the interview, I was terrified, on many levels. At the beginning of the interview, I was told the specifics of the allegation, and I was dumbfounded. Again, I could not imagine any circumstances that would have prompted her to make such allegations, which were completely false. I then began to think that, perhaps, she was misunderstood and that she was not told what was going to happen; that she may have believed that I abandoned her, just as everyone else she had become close to at the agency had abandoned her. I wondered if she died because she felt that no one loved her and there was no reason to continue to live. I will never know, because I was not there to interpret her behaviors. In the end, she was surrounded by strangers, people who didn't know what behaviors to look for.

All that being said, I am grateful that she is no longer in pain, that she is able to stand proud and walk proud, that she is able to speak so that all can understand, that she is filled with joy, not sorrow. I am not dwelling on the negative. I write it here, to release it from my soul, so that I can move on with my life, such as it is.

And here's what it is: I have no income. I am at retirement age and not in a place where I want to find a full-time job. I am eligible to collect social security, but I have already made too much this year to qualify for benefits. Meanwhile, I have 16 months left on my lease, I cannot afford to pay the rent, and I don't have any prospects for roommates. I signed the lease in October 2018, intending to move us in on November 1. However, the agency was not prepared for us to move, and I was asked to compel the landlord to wait until December to start the lease. The landlord would only do that, if I signed a two-year lease. On top of that, we were not able to move, until January. I had to pay first month's rent and damage deposit, by 1 December. I took out extremely high interest loans to do this. As time went on, I took out more loans to try to pay off others, and generally got myself in a pickle. Ideally, I would like to find someone who is capable of either loaning me $20,000 or co-signing a low-interest loan with me, so that I can pay off the high interest loans and carry myself through a couple months, while I figure out what to do.

Frankly, I'm feeling really old and tired, and I just want someone to take care of me. Anybody remember back in the 1940s and 1950s, when a family member took in the old maid aunt and provided for her? I wish people did that today.

For those of you who have read this far, I am grateful. God bless you and keep you, always.

Love,

Teah

Forgive AND Forget

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland is an Apostle for my Church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I love his talks and writings. He reminds me very much of a Baptist preacher. I read a magazine article, this morning, taken from a speech he gave at Brigham Young University, that touched my heart. I will share pieces of the article with you, and the link to the entire article is at the end of my post.

He begins speaking about Lot's wife, who infamously "looked back," against the Lord's instruction, and became a pillar of salt. What did she do that was wrong? Elder Holland says, "Apparently, what was wrong with Lot's wife was that she wasn't just looking back; in her heart she wanted to go back. It would appear that even before she was past the city limits she was already missing what Sodom and Gomorrah had offered her. So it isn't just that she looked back; she looked back longingly. In short, her attachment to the past outweighed her confidence in the future. That, apparently, was at least part of her sin."

I am a live-in caregiver for a 92-year-old woman who lost the use of her right arm, in 2010, after a car accident, which wasn't her fault. Up to that time, she was very independent. Even after nearly seven years, she continues to look back, every day, with much longing, wishing that she was able to be independent again. This truly saddens me. There is no way to get her old life back. She also has dementia, so she is no longer able to reason or comprehend. She spends her days longing for her past life, unable to look forward to the future or think about how she can use her situation to help herself and those around her learn and grow.

The article then moves on to forgiving and forgetting. He says, "There is something in many of us that particularly fails to forgive and forget earlier mistakes in life-either our mistakes or the mistakes of others. It is not good. It is not Christian. It stands in terrible opposition to the grandeur and majesty of the Atonement of Christ. To be tied to earlier mistakes is the worst kind of wallowing in the past from which we are called to cease and desist. When something is over and done with, when it has been repented of as fully as it can be repented of, when life has moved on as it should and a lot of other wonderfully good things have happened since then, it is not right to go back and open some ancient wound that the Son of God Himself died to heal."

Elder Holland goes on to say, "Let people repent. Let people grow. Believe that people can change and improve. Is that faith? Yes! Is that hope? Yes! Is that charity? Yes! Above all, it is charity, the pure love of Christ. If something is buried in the past, leave it buried. Don't keep going back with your little sand pail and beach shovel to dig it up, wave it around, and then throw it at someone, saying, 'Hey! Do you remember this?' Splat!"

I have always thought of myself as a forgiving person. This article caused me to stop and think about whether I am a forgetting person. Today is my older brother's birthday. Growing up, I felt he was inconsiderate and unkind to me. I didn't feel we had a good relationship. After we were all grown up, I forgave him. However, I am not sure, now, that I have forgotten how he treated me, years and years ago. My pledge, in this new year, is to forget the mistakes of others. I am sure there are people in my life I have wronged, either intentionally or unintentionally. If you are one of those persons, please forgive me. My prayer is that you will eventually come to a place that will help you to forget the mistakes you and others have made.

Here is the link:

https://www.lds.org/ensign/2010/01/the-best-is-yet-to-be?lang=eng

Blessings,
Teah

The Hand of the Lord

This morning, I read the 9th chapter of Isaiah. The phrase, "but his hand is stretched out still," appears three times in this chapter, related to how God's people often rebel and turn away from him, "but his hand is stretched out still." So, even when we want nothing to do with God, he is patient and continually extending a helping hand. He is readily available, whenever we seek his help, whether we have been daily following his teachings or have fallen away and are desperate for guidance.

My daily devotional app sometimes gives me an assignment. Today, it suggested that I write in my journal about the times I observed the hand of the Lord in my life. There are many such occurrences in my life, but I have chosen to relate a chain of events that occurred in the early 1990s, that, to me, clearly showed the hand of the Lord was there.

At the time, I was divorced, my son was in elementary school and living with me, I was working full time, and I had just taken in a foster child, a boy who was two years younger than my son. I was renting a small three-bedroom house. The Division of Family Services was starting a career foster parenting program, and my social worker was strongly encouraging me to get on board as one of the charter participants. This new program required the participants to foster two teenagers, and participants were not allowed to work outside the home. The stipend was substantial, actually more than my current income, and it was tax-free. In order for me to become a part of the program, I needed to attend additional training. I also needed a bigger house, to accommodate five people.

My foster child was diagnosed with ADHD, but he did not qualify for medication, because he did not act out at school. I had a small TV/VCR combo in the boys' room, which proved helpful for my foster boy. The boys and I usually went out every Wednesday night. One Wednesday night, when we got home, the house had been burglarized. The burglars took two VCRs, a TV, and my violin. Interestingly, they only checked my room and the living room, so they did not take the TV from the boys' room, nor did they take my viola, which was in the spare room. None of the items were recovered, and the burglars were not found and prosecuted, although the police believed it was youth in the neighborhood who needed money for drugs. I had renter's insurance, so the TV and VCRs were replaced with newer models.

My mother had purchased my violin for $1500, before I went to college. She wanted me to have the best instrument she could afford. I went to college on a music scholarship. My major was music performance-violin. As part of my major, I was required to study a second instrument. I took on the viola and found that I enjoyed the viola more than the violin. After two years of college, I changed my major to Music Theory and Composition, and switched my instrument to viola. I kept my violin, because I continued to play it at church, weddings, and other events that preferred the violin to the viola. Sometimes, I even traded between them, at the same event.

My insurance agent asked that I have the violin appraised, if possible, so the amount of my claim could be determined. I still had the sales receipt with the pertinent information about the instrument (when it was built and who built it in what country), so I reached out to the man from whom my mother had purchased the violin. He remembered the violin and appraised it at $10,000. The insurance company agreed to replace the violin with a violin or viola, up to a value of $10,000, or give me $7,500 cash. I had found a 6-bedroom house to buy, and the $7,500 cash was just what I needed for the down payment.

I believe Heavenly Father can see my entire life, at once. He knows when bad things are going to happen, and he knows when I will turn away from him. He sees all the choices I will make, throughout my life. He knew that the violin my mother bought for $1500 would be stolen and appraised at $10,000, at a time when I needed the money. The burglary was a bad thing that set the stage for a good thing to happen. Heavenly Father knew it would happen, just the way it did. However, I did not. This was a great opportunity for me to observe the hand of the Lord working in my life. He knew that I could realize a dream, by looking for the rainbow after the rain. If my violin had not been stolen, I would have had a more difficult time coming up with money for a down payment on the house I wanted.

I encourage you to look more closely at the bad things in your life, and see if you can see the hand of the Lord in them. Look for signs that a good thing will come from this. Dwelling on the positive will help you to bear up under the negative. That's how my life has gone and continues to go.

Until next time, God bless, and remember that "his hand is stretched out still"!

Teah

Seeking Sacrifice

Throughout the month of January 2016, I have been keenly in tune to the promptings of the Holy Ghost, to learn what my Heavenly Father would have me do. I have not had the perfect plan fall into my lap. I have received an idea and pursued it, only to see it disintegrate or morph into something else. I know that writing my book is to be my number one priority. It is called, "Channeling George Bailey: How to Have a Wonderful Life." The world needs this book. It will show everyone how to have a richly blessed life, while helping to richly bless the lives of everyone around them. Sacrifice is necessary to achieve this wonderful life, and I believe sacrifice is also the one thing that keeps folks from embracing this way of life.

Ironically, sacrifice is the one thing that I need, right now, to help me get this book written, published, and out there in the world, where it can be of the most benefit. I don't mean that I need to make a sacrifice. I mean that someone out there, perhaps you, needs to make a sacrifice for my benefit. To give you some background, my initial plan, which has not panned out, was to get a part-time job in the Maplewood/St. Louis Hills/Brentwood area of St. Louis South City, find a place to live in the same area, and devote most of my spare time to writing. The location puts me close to my son and daughter-in-law, so that I can spend more time with them.

The second, amended plan, was to connect with someone I already knew, in a different location, but still in the St. Louis metropolitan area; I would find a part-time job in the area and help these folks that I knew, by paying to rent a room from them. While this plan has not completely faded away, I have not gotten confirmation that it would be the best option. In each of these two plans, I'm the person making the sacrifice.

This morning, I felt very strongly that it's time for someone to make a sacrifice for my benefit. I need someone to take me in, at least temporarily. Some of the ways this could work are:

• A live-in caregiver position for an elderly woman or couple, that would provide free room and board, plus a small stipend, to allow me some "walk-around" money. I have no debts and could get by on as little as $100 per week, as long as room and board was provided.
• A live-in nanny position, same circumstances as the caregiver position.
• A single woman who is financially stable and lives alone, who would benefit from the companionship of another female.
• Anyone who prays over this and feels prompted to provide for me in some way.

I could provide more background, tell you more about myself, explain why I'm needing you to make a sacrifice, but I don't think any further information I provide will be helpful. If, after reading this far, you have a negative opinion of me and wouldn't dream of helping me, that's fine. I know that I'm not going to change your mind. If, however, you have read this far and feel a tugging in your heart or a yearning to do something, please post a comment here, message me on Facebook, or contact me via phone or email, if you have my contact information.

Thanks for your support,

Blessings and love,

Teah

Thanksgiving 2015 Thoughts

I am alone, this Thanksgiving Day. It is not the first Thanksgiving Day I have spent alone, but it is the first Thanksgiving Day I am content to be alone, to enjoy the opportunity for quiet contemplation, to do whatever I want to do, without having to consider what others would want to do, and to pray to my Heavenly Father as he would most like me to pray, "But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou has shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly." (Matthew 6:5)

Today, I am not envious of those who are surrounded by loved ones. Today, I am not weeping and crying, in a deep depression, because I feel so completely alone. Today, I am happy, grateful, and feeling truly blessed. In the days leading up to today, similar to previous years, friends have asked me if I "have somewhere to go" for Thanksgiving or "someone to be with." As in previous years, I have said no, and, when asked to join the person inquiring, I have respectfully declined. What's different this year is that I don't feel the need to provide a reason for my answer.

Having experienced varying scenarios of Thanksgiving, over the years, I'd like to share some advice for those who are considering sharing their Thanksgiving celebration with someone outside their family:

Extend the invitation early, and intentionally.

When I receive an invitation from someone at church, the Sunday before Thanksgiving, it tends to come across as an afterthought. I'm much more inclined to accept an invitation, if it comes in the mail, if it comes from everyone in the family, or if I get a phone call (preferably right after Halloween) the sole purpose of which is the invitation.

Always accept the first response, but make it clear the invitation is longstanding.

Being asked to spend Thanksgiving with anyone I don't know very well usually gets me feeling a bit awkward; I start thinking, "Why are they asking me?" and I initially don't want to accept. However, if those extending the invitation display a genuine interest in wanting me involved in their gathering, and give me time to think about it, my awkwardness subsides, and I'm relieved that I can make a thoughtful decision. An open invitation also helps me to not feel awkward or embarrassed, if something suddenly comes together with my own family (none of whom are nearby).

LISTEN and be SENSITIVE!

I think this is the most important point about including a single person, particularly if the person you're inviting is older than you. One year, a young mother asked what I was doing for Thanksgiving. I said I was fixing turkey and dressing, and looking for someone to share it with. She then asked if I would like to come to her house for Thanksgiving. I asked if I could bring my turkey. Her response was that the company her husband works for gives them a free turkey every year, so, no, I don't need to bring anything. She added that another family was going to be there. I almost couldn't say no fast enough. If you're not understanding why this invitation was off-putting for me, here's how I interpreted what she said:

• She called me up a few days before Thanksgiving, so it seemed like an afterthought. It also seemed like she was thinking that no one should spend Thanksgiving alone, and maybe she felt sorry for me, because I was going to be alone.
• She had obviously invited another family long before she thought of me, another indication that I might have been an afterthought or pity invitation.
• This woman was aware that I love to cook for others, before she invited me. Even though I offered to bring something, she insisted that I not bring anything. This was hugely insulting to me. She had not yet prepared her free turkey and could have easily frozen it for use later, or given it to a needy family. What this said to me is that she is not willing to give something up to make someone else happy; that is not someone with whom I'm interested in spending time.

Now, I have no idea what this woman was thinking, nor will I ever know her intentions. She's a good Christian woman who cares for those who are less fortunate, but, like many, many others, she hasn't had the experience of being alone on Thanksgiving, so she doesn't know what it feels like. She can only relate to my experience through her imagination. The point of this post is to help those of you who have never lived alone, or have forgotten what it's like, to understand the perspective of a person currently living alone.

Consider taking the celebration somewhere else.

The way I see it, if you want to improve the welfare of another person, it's important to put the other person's welfare before your own. Perhaps you're thinking of inviting a single person, or an older couple to your Thanksgiving feast. Do your homework, first. Nearly every single person I know has trouble "getting out." When we're invited somewhere, unless it's all about us, it's so easy to send a text a few hours before the event, indicating we don't feel well enough to go, or something else has come up. Single folks have been doing this to me, for years. If you sense any hesitancy in a yes response, ask if it would be okay if you brought Thanksgiving to the person's home. Also, every nursing home has at least one resident who has no family, and every nursing home serves a Thanksgiving meal. Think about spending Thanksgiving at a nursing home, ordering enough meals for your family, and arranging to sit with a resident who would otherwise be watching other residents celebrating with their families.

I leave you with the following quote:

Thomas S. Monson

We can lift ourselves and others as well when we refuse to remain in the realm of negative thought and cultivate within our hearts an attitude of gratitude. If ingratitude be numbered among the serious sins, then gratitude takes its place among the noblest of virtues.

Quote found in A Future as Bright as Your Faith

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Teah

Celebrating Easter and General Conference 2015

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints holds "General Conference" twice a year, the first weekend of April and the first weekend of October. Actually, General Conference officially begins the last Saturday of March and September, with the General Women's Session. Then, the first Saturday of April and October, there are three sessions of conference, and two sessions on the first Sunday of each month. Each session is two hours. Aside from about 15 minutes spent on auditing and statistical reports, and about 5 minutes spent sustaining Church officers, done during the second Saturday session, each session is filled with words and music to help those watching and listening grow in faith and knowledge of the Gospel, while learning how to cope in the growing chaos prevalent in the world today. 

When I joined the Church in 2002, I had DISH Network and watched conference on BYU-TV. Those who didn't have access to BYU-TV had to go to a meetinghouse to watch the satellite broadcast. (Many meetinghouses have a satellite dish specifically for the purpose of receiving the general conference broadcast.) Today, it's streaming online, at lds.org, you can still watch it on BYU-TV, which is also available as a streaming app on Roku, and you can always go to a meetinghouse to watch. I usually watch it at home. I get comfortable in my big recliner, with my General Conference journal in hand, and absorb all the wonderful talks. I have the capability of pausing and rewinding, to make sure I write down exactly what is said, so that I can go back and review later, make notes, and bask in the truthfulness of the spirit-filled talks that pour from my TV.

Like most Church members, I have my favorite conference speakers. My first favorite was Elder Dallin H. Oaks. Over the years, there were other speakers I began to look forward to hearing: President Gordon B. Hinckley; President Thomas S. Monson; Elder Richard G. Scott; President Dieter F. Uchtdorf; and Sister Barbara Thompson.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland is an Apostle for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He became my favorite speaker, in April 2009, when he gave this talk on the Atonement. In 2009, the first Sunday of April was Palm Sunday.

If you don't want to listen to the entire talk, I've pasted here the three paragraphs that touched me to the core:

"Now I speak very carefully, even reverently, of what may have been the most difficult moment in all of this solitary journey to Atonement. I speak of those final moments for which Jesus must have been prepared intellectually and physically but which He may not have fully anticipated emotionally and spiritually—that concluding descent into the paralyzing despair of divine withdrawal when He cries in ultimate loneliness, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46; emphasis added.)

"The loss of mortal support He had anticipated, but apparently He had not comprehended this. Had He not said to His disciples, 'Behold, the hour … is now come, that ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone: and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me' and 'The Father hath not left me alone; for I do always those things that please him'? (John 16:32; 8:29.)

"With all the conviction of my soul I testify that He did please His Father perfectly and that a perfect Father did not forsake His Son in that hour. Indeed, it is my personal belief that in all of Christ’s mortal ministry the Father may never have been closer to His Son than in these agonizing final moments of suffering. Nevertheless, that the supreme sacrifice of His Son might be as complete as it was voluntary and solitary, the Father briefly withdrew from Jesus the comfort of His Spirit, the support of His personal presence. It was required, indeed it was central to the significance of the Atonement, that this perfect Son who had never spoken ill nor done wrong nor touched an unclean thing had to know how the rest of humankind—us, all of us—would feel when we did commit such sins. For His Atonement to be infinite and eternal, He had to feel what it was like to die not only physically but spiritually, to sense what it was like to have the divine Spirit withdraw, leaving one feeling totally, abjectly, hopelessly alone."

Then, in October 2009, Elder Holland's talk consisted nearly exclusively of his testimony of the truth of the Book of Mormon, expressing why I believe, better than I have been able to.

Again, if you don't want to listen to the talk, read the paragraphs that touched my spirit so deeply that it took my breath away:

"May I refer to a modern “last days” testimony? When Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum started for Carthage to face what they knew would be an imminent martyrdom, Hyrum read these words to comfort the heart of his brother:

'Thou hast been faithful; wherefore … thou shalt be made strong, even unto the sitting down in the place which I have prepared in the mansions of my Father.

“'And now I, Moroni, bid farewell … until we shall meet before the judgment-seat of Christ.' (Ether 12:37–38; see also D&C 135:5.)

"A few short verses from the 12th chapter of Ether in the Book of Mormon. Before closing the book, Hyrum turned down the corner of the page from which he had read, marking it as part of the everlasting testimony for which these two brothers were about to die. I hold in my hand that book, the very copy from which Hyrum read, the same corner of the page turned down, still visible. Later, when actually incarcerated in the jail, Joseph the Prophet turned to the guards who held him captive and bore a powerful testimony of the divine authenticity of the Book of Mormon. (See History of the Church, 6:600.) Shortly thereafter pistol and ball would take the lives of these two testators.

"As one of a thousand elements of my own testimony of the divinity of the Book of Mormon, I submit this as yet one more evidence of its truthfulness. In this their greatest—and last—hour of need, I ask you: would these men blaspheme before God by continuing to fix their lives, their honor, and their own search for eternal salvation on a book (and by implication a church and a ministry) they had fictitiously created out of whole cloth?

"Never mind that their wives are about to be widows and their children fatherless. Never mind that their little band of followers will yet be 'houseless, friendless and homeless' and that their children will leave footprints of blood across frozen rivers and an untamed prairie floor. (Joseph Smith, in History of the Church, 4:539.) Never mind that legions will die and other legions live declaring in the four quarters of this earth that they know the Book of Mormon and the Church which espouses it to be true. Disregard all of that, and tell me whether in this hour of death these two men would enter the presence of their Eternal Judge quoting from and finding solace in a book which, if not the very word of God, would brand them as impostors and charlatans until the end of time? They would not do that! They were willing to die rather than deny the divine origin and the eternal truthfulness of the Book of Mormon."

I highly recommend that you listen to these talks, so that you can clearly hear in his voice and see in his expression the intensity of his testimony, to the point that I believe it is difficult to deny that he is speaking truthfully and with conviction. Many years ago, my mother and my husband were arguing about the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. I got between them and told my husband that he had no idea about how my mother came to believe what she believes and, thus, was not in a position to tell her that her beliefs were wrong or inadequate. I then told my mother that I would not listen to her opinions and beliefs about the Book of Mormon, until she had read it through, prayerfully and with the intent of discovering whether or not it is true.

I first read the Book of Mormon, the summer after my father passed away, and I believed every word without any doubt. I was quite grounded in my beliefs and read it to see if I could find holes in it to disprove it. I could not. In fact, it boosted my faith and belief in Jesus Christ and his purpose. It also answered questions that I had, growing up in the Southern Baptist Church.

I have a strong testimony that the Book of Mormon is, indeed, true, and it is, as it claims to be, "another testament of Jesus Christ." I testify that, should you decide to read it for yourself, you will be greatly blessed, and the Spirit of God will fill your heart and soul with great joy. If you don't like to read from beginning to end, start with the book of Ether, or 3rd Nephi. Those were my favorite books, the first time I read it through.

Wishing you all a glorious Easter celebration!

Teah

My Dear Miss Pu Chi

My sweet Pu Chi passed away, Friday morning, 2/13/15, at 6:50 a.m. CST. She was my dear companion for nearly 18 years. Our time together ended much like it began, in a shotgun apartment (you can stand at one end and fire a shotgun shell through the entire apartment, without hitting any walls). We connected in August 1997, while I was living in North St. Louis City and working at a major law firm in downtown St. Louis. My son was 14, getting ready to start high school, living with his father. I had a roommate, but he wasn't extremely fond of animals. A legal secretary at the law firm was giving kittens away. Their mother had been put down, and she was desperate to find homes for the babies. Pu Chi was the last one, and the tiniest one. I think I could have held her comfortably in one hand. It was me and her, from the beginning. She would warm up to others, throughout her life, but, bottom line, she was mine, and I was hers.

By the end of August, I had moved into a house, in St. John, a suburb NW of St. Louis, My son moved in with me. For his birthday, my son's girlfriend gave him a puppy, whom he named Cloud. Pu Chi and Cloud were very close in age and grew up together. She enjoyed mothering him. Five years later, I got another kitten, Goku, which presented another opportunity for Pu Chi to show off her mothering talents. Then, Nate got another dog. Pu Chi didn't mother this one. She spent the time necessary to help the other pets in the house to understand that she was the Alpha female. All other animals in the house were to answer to her, and she answered only to me.

In August 2003, my mother and I moved into a house together, in Overland, a suburb west of St. Louis. Nate, who was nearly 21, stayed in the house in St. John. I took the two cats with me. At first, my mother insisted that the cats stay in my living quarters, upstairs. However, once she noticed that I was spending more time in my living quarters than in hers, she agreed to let the cats have the freedom to roam the entire house. I think it was 2008, when I purchased a big comfy recliner for the TV room. I had bought it for my mother, but she didn't care for it. It actually became Pu Chi's chair, with the understanding that she would only use it, when someone was reclining in it. Whoever was reclining in it became her pillow. There were times when she preferred to sit in mother's chair with her, but she always claimed the recliner as hers. When my mother moved to Kentucky to live with my brother, in 2010, I kept Pu Chi and the recliner, as I moved from place to place, before finally settling in a shotgun apartment in Peoria, Illinois.

She left this earth with me as her pillow, on her recliner. She had been in the habit of greeting me at the door, when I came home from work. A few months ago, she was diagnosed with kidney disease. Over the last week or two, I noticed she stopped eating and began to lose weight. I set up a bed for her in the bathroom, by the radiator, the warmest place in our home. When I got home from work, on Thursday, 2/12/15, she did not greet me. I found her in her bed, in the bathroom, unwilling to get up. After getting myself something to eat and getting ready for bed, I picked her up and brought her into the front room, so I could be her pillow on the recliner. She was still sleeping, when I woke up at 6:00 a.m. I put her in the recliner, while I got ready for work, and then resumed my position as her pillow, until she took her last breath, at 6:50 a.m. I was able to hold her, stroke her, and talk to her, until she was gone. I am so grateful I was able to share her last moments.

She was a devoted companion, always there for me, never judging me, and I know she truly loved me unconditionally. I will miss her very much.

Who Needs Love Most?

Starting the day before Halloween, I started hearing radio PSAs instructing parents to go to the Peoria County Sheriff's Office website to look up sex offenders in their area. The announcements also pointed out that sex offenders were banned from participating in Halloween. These announcements gave me a weird feeling. I know men who are required to register as a sex offender for the rest of their lives, for having sex with a miner (and it was the miner's idea).

I'm not condoning what sex offenders do, by any means. However, my first thought upon hearing these ads was that I should look up the sex offenders in my neighborhood and take them some candy. Perhaps that might be dangerous, but it also is looming out there as an overlooked opportunity to minister to some downtrodden folks.

Then, tonight, I was attending Stake Conference, and one of the speakers encouraged us to look for ways we can minister to those around us. I struggle to find people more deserving of kindness than those who are openly hated and rebuked. The website doesn't say what a man did to become a registered sex offender. It just lists his name, address, and description, along with a photo, if one is available.

So, what do you think? Are there crimes that are unforgivable? When a person is convicted of a crime, is there no room for repentance? I can imagine there are those who believe some folks deserve what they get. I also strongly believe that our lives are a result of the choices we make, i.e., the circumstances surrounding registered sex offenders, they brought on themselves, because of the choices they made. Most choices can't be reversed.

So, I'm going to look into what I can do to help registered sex offenders feel the Spirit and maybe even feel a little blessed and loved this upcoming holiday season. If nothing else, I intend to intently and specifically pray for them by name, asking for showers of blessings to come their way. Who will join me?

Country Paradise

For those reading this who don't really know me, I'm the friend/family member with my head constantly in the clouds. It was years before I could watch "The Santa Clause" (1994) for the second time, because I'm Scott Calvin ... people tend to urge me to see a therapist about my constant dreaming and fantasizing about who I am and what I can do.

I got divorced in 1984/85, and I have worked out of necessity ever since. I am very good at my work, but I am not very happy. I was so very happy being a wife and mother, seeing to the upbringing of my child and the upkeep of my home. I loved being able to help others and volunteer. I have never been cut out for the corporate world. I have left the employ of every job I've had, due to someone I worked with feeling the need to use me as a scapegoat, so he/she could achieve a certain status or position that he/she believed was not possible to achieve while I was around. I was happy in my work, again, for about three or four years, when I stopped working out of the home, to take care of my mother, while she was bedridden. Once again, I had the fulfillment of running a household and volunteering my time and services to help others.

Then, in 2010, my mother moved in with one of my brothers, so that I could get back to the business of the corporate world, which again became a necessity. And I have been at it, again, ever since. There's a difference this time, in that I am living alone. Toward the end of 2012, I felt impressed to apply for a job transfer and move to Peoria, Illinois, at least 3 hours from any family and the many friends I had made in St. Louis, where I had lived since 1976, and this caused me to feel even more alone, although I still think this is was the right thing for me to do.

My big dream has been to have a 3 or 4 bedroom house on about 10 acres, where I could have goats, chickens, a milk cow, and where I could breed dogs and grow my own vegetables and fruits. The house would also serve as a home base for my nonprofit organization, The Marcella Simmons Musicians Assistance and Education Association. The Association would provide room and board for touring musicians, and music lessons for anyone who wants music lessons of any type but is unable to afford them. The barn would be used for fundraising, by serving as a music venue, movie theatre, cookouts, and a place for seminars and trivia nights.

About a month ago, after talking to a couple of guys I work with about my big dream, I checked Craigslist, on a whim, to look for housing that would put me inside the boundaries of a different Ward in my Church. My search did not reveal anything inside the boundaries of a different Ward, but it did bring up a 5 bedroom, 4 bath, 2700 sq. ft. house for rent, on nearly 11 acres of tranquil woods and pasture, set at the end of a long, private lane. The house includes a large wrap-around front porch; the main level has a living room w/slider to back deck, dining room, kitchen with cooking island, breakfast nook, laundry/mud room, guest bath with shower, master bedroom with walk-in closet and master bath; the 2nd floor has two bedrooms with walk-in closets and a full bath; the finished basement has two bedrooms, family room, full kitchen, and bath with shower. There is a 2-car attached garage, a 100-year-old barn, two greenhouses, an in-ground trampoline, an oak grove, a stocked pond, and wild turkeys.

This is exactly what I have always wanted, and I don't believe it's a coincidence that I found it, but I don't know how to make it happen. I have been unsuccessful finding people to accept my invitation to be on the board of directors of my nonprofit, and I don't know any tax attorneys that would help me pro bono. Without renting it for a nonprofit business, I cannot afford the $2400 a month rent, and I don't know anyone who would be interested in moving in with me and helping with the rent.

Soooo ... if anyone reading this is interested in helping get my nonprofit going and/or starting a "commune" with me, or you have any suggestions on how I can accomplish this, or you can just pray for things to work out ... please do so!

I'll keep dreaming and praying, wishing and hoping, and puzzling and puzzling...

Teah

Let Me 'Splain

I see people posting on Facebook about things they find extremely offensive. These are typically things that don't have any effect on ANYTHING. They most likely will not change anyone's opinion. They probably won't change society or the world, although that is generally their purpose. But people still get caught up in taking one side or the other over these trivial issues.

I'm a Libertarian. That means I believe in personal liberties and personal freedoms. I believe in the Bill of Rights. I believe that, as long as I am not endangering the life of anyone else, I have the right to believe and behave however I want. If I want to marry a Ferris wheel, that is nobody else's business. Sure, I may be crazy as a loon, but I am not hurting anyone, or infringing on anyone else's rights. Certainly, people are going to talk about it, laugh about it, and roll their eyes in disbelief, but, as long as they are not infringing on my right to be married to a Ferris wheel, they are within their own rights to express their opinions.

The difference between the thinking of a Libertarian and other political thinking is this: Libertarians respect the rights of everyone to believe and do whatever they feel like believing and doing. All other political thinkers want everyone in the world to respect what they believe and do, and anyone who doesn't believe or act the same way should keep those beliefs and actions to themselves. Political activists go a step further and want everyone in the world to believe and act as they do, and they will do whatever they can to ruin the lives of anyone who expresses an opinion contrary to what they believe. Activists are out to change the world to fit their beliefs. They want to do away with what they believe are archaic cultures that don't fit with their agenda.

I use this blog to tell stories about my life and talk about things that puzzle me. I sometimes express my opinion, but I am more interested in understanding how others develop their own opinions. Like I said before, I am not really "against" anything, as long as it doesn't bring harm to others. Here are some examples, for anyone who is still struggling with this concept. If you want to drink yourself into a stupor, that is your business. If you drink yourself into a stupor, then drive down my street while I am out walking, it becomes my business, if you aren't paying attention and kill me. Drinking alcoholic beverages to excess is not against the law. Killing a person with your car IS against the law, whether or not you are intoxicated while driving. On the other hand, in many states, smoking marijuana or shooting heroin is against the law, even though consuming alcohol or smoking tobacco is just as harmful. So the law should be there to protect society from what you might do under the influence, not to protect you from yourself. If I decide to commit suicide, because I just don't want to live anymore, and I do so by purposely overdosing or shooting myself in the head, I may be damned for eternity, because suicide is the ultimate sin, but that is MY business. It is not the government's or society's place to tell me it is against the law for me to take my own life. Now, if by killing myself I kill someone else, either intentionally or unintentionally, I would be breaking the law.

Please feel free to comment, if you want to discuss these ideas further. I'm going to move on, now, and talk about some of the issues that are making the news, in an attempt to help you to understand that it is political activists who are bringing these things to your attention, and only political activists.

One of the ornaments that Hallmark created this year is a Christmas sweater that says, "Don we now our FUN apparel". Gay activists jumped on this, saying that changing the word "gay" to "fun" is offensive to the gay community, meaning every person who claims to be gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transsexual. As a result, the gay couple who live next door decide to boycott Hallmark, because Hallmark blatantly, personally offended them. George Takei also scolded Hallmark, as he was also personally offended by a Christmas ornament. Really? Really? Come on, really? Gay activists are on record as stating that they want to do away with traditional marriage. The gay next door neighbors just want to be allowed to get married, but they don't want to destroy the marriages of everyone else in the neighborhood. Do you see what is going on here? Gay people who just want to be treated equally feel an obligation to support the "gay community" created by political activists, to further their agenda, which has nothing to do with equality, but is all about "fundamentally transforming the United States of America." I believe Hallmark made a big mistake by issuing an apology, because there was no need to apologize for an ornament.

Several people and organizations have been scolded for expressing their belief that homosexuality is a sin. Most recently, Phil Robertson, of the Duck Dynasty reality TV show that airs on A&E, has been suspended by the cable channel, because he mentioned in an interview with GQ that he believes homosexuality is a sin. You will notice that the activists did not attack Phil Robertson, but attacked A&E, because they knew that A&E would be afraid of what might happen if it took the stand that a person's beliefs are simply a person's beliefs, not an offense to an entire community. Actually, two groups were offended by his comments: the gay community and the anti-Christian community. To help you put this into perspective, think about something you believe without doubt; then think about the opposite of that belief; and then consider whether the opposing belief personally offends you. Here's an example, from my belief system. I believe that I existed as a spirit before I was born and that my spirit entered my physical body, once my physical body was capable of existing on its own. Because I believe this, I also do not believe that a fetus is a human being, because it does not have a soul. Therefore, I do not believe that having an abortion is either a sin or a murder. This is what I believe. Practically everyone else I know believes that having an abortion is a sin and should be against the law. I am not offended, in any way, by anyone's belief that abortion is a sin. So why should those who believe I am wrong be offended by what I believe? I don't think they would be, except for the political activists who spend a lot of time and money to coerce those who are not Christians to believe that Christians are narrow-minded (or even closed-minded), intolerant, wanting the entire world to believe exactly as they do, and wanting to force their beliefs on anyone who has a differing opinion or no opinion at all on the matter. There are also political activists working on the other side, coercing Christians to believe the same things about non-Christians.

What I want you to understand from all this jabbering is that political activists don't care anything about what you believe or want. I think political activists don't really believe in the causes they stand behind and even change sides, depending on what agenda is currently being served. If you look at how President Obama voted in the Illinois Senate, he was against gay marriage. However, when asked in an interview how he felt about gay marriage, an interview that occurred after he was elected President, he declared that he was all for gay marriage. The most important thing to take away from this is that the President of the United States does not have any authority to make a law declaring that gay people can marry each other. That is a state issue. So, because he is not in a position to actually vote on the issue, he is free to say whatever he feels like saying about the issue, without it coming back to bite him in the butt. A lot of people seemed to think that his opinion was important. I don't understand why an opinion is so important. People who are against gay marriage really hate the President, and people who love the President already take a stance for gay marriage. I don't recall seeing or hearing anyone discussing how offensive the President's opinion is, regardless of what opinion he's expressing.

One last example: A family who fills their yard with Christian-oriented Christmas decorations received a typed letter from an anonymous neighbor, complaining about the decorations ... that they were Christian in nature, that they were tacky and ugly, and that they were offensive to people who weren't Christians. A photo of the letter has been circulating on the Internet. When I saw the letter and read about the family's reaction, it wreaked of political activism, to me. I think a political activist organization typed this letter and mailed it to the family. The family commented that they had only received positive comments from their neighbors. So, think about it. What would you do? Would you type up an anonymous letter to deliver to your neighbor, who has been using the same decorations for 37 years, to let them know that those decorations are offensive to everyone else in the neighborhood, not really mentioning that they are offensive to you, but making sure they understand that they are offending all people who don't believe in Christ, and that they should take that into consideration, when putting up their Christmas decorations? Does that make sense to you? If something doesn't offend you, but you decide to put a stop to it because it might be offending someone else, then I believe you're pushing an agenda and stirring up controversy to move your agenda, which most likely doesn't have anything to do with what is being brought to everyone's attention as offensive, but has everything to do with fundamentally transforming the United States of America. And that is infringing on my rights, as a citizen of the United States of America.

I'm sorry for the long rant, but I just had to get this out of my head, as it has been bothering me for quite some time. I think we would all be better off, if we just ignored the activists and embraced the freedoms we have to express our opinions, worship (or not) how we choose, and pursue what makes us happy, without worrying about what anyone else thinks about it.

You might disagree with me, AND THAT'S OKAY!!

Teah

Happy Birthday, Nate

 That's him, second from left, after playing a few songs inside the gates of Busch stadium, as part of a contest. They should have won. My boy loves the St. Louis Cardinals, and I think he loves his life. At least, he behaves as though he loves his life. Heavenly Father knew that I could only handle one child and that it needed to be a boy. I cherish this boy more than any other person on earth. The day he got married, my Facebook status read, "The love of my life is marrying someone else, and I'm happy!"

 In order to graduate high school, he needed to retake American History. It wasn't because he didn't learn anything in the class, but because he didn't see the need for homework. In his logical mind, passing tests should have been proof enough that he had sufficiently learned what he needed to learn to pass the course, but the teacher didn't look at it that way. We had a few discussions about him needing to comply with the request to do homework, but they all ended with me kind of throwing my hands in the air, because I couldn't argue with the logic he presented. Finally, I decided to write him a letter, since I say things so much better when I write them. In the letter, I asked him if he would just do the homework because I wanted him to, and for no other reason. As a result, he agreed to do the homework, but that's not the best part of the story. The best part happened months later, when I was looking in his wallet for something he had told me was there. While looking, I found the letter I had written to him, neatly folded and tucked away, there in his wallet. It just brought tears to my eyes.

There is one last thing I would like to share with you. In these photos to the left, he is wearing a suit custom made for him by my mother, "Grammy". Mother does a lot of writing and seems to enjoy it. I think she may have contributed a lot to my own love of writing. Anyway, I have reproduced below a piece she wrote, after Nate (back when she called him Nathan) had spent a day or two with her. I think this expresses, more than anything else I have ever read or heard, what a wonderful man my boy became and how important it is for parents and grandparents to really pay attention to their children. As a prologue, I feel it necessary to say that I divorced Nate's dad, when Nate was three, and I was awarded full custody of him. Whenever he got sick, I couldn't drop him at daycare, so my mother would take him, so I would't have to miss work. That was a great help to me. Also, Nate had allergy-induced asthma throughout his childhood and was hospitalized several times, just to get it under control. My mother was one of the few family members who understood the severity of Nate's asthma. So, Happy 31st Birthday to my wonderful son, the love of my life. I close with my mother's words:

7-18-92

A SPECIAL TIME FOR NATHAN

(written by Marcella Simmons)

It is great to have two of my children living with their families near me in the St. Louis area.  I am so blessed with well-behaved and beautiful grandchildren.  One of them stands apart from the others; not that he is better, or smarter, or loved more, but that he is my only grandson.

During his early years, I cared for Nathan on many occasions.  When he was sick - whether it was a runny nose or worse with fever, or violent asthma attacks, a trip to the doctor, or even the chicken pox - I was ready to assist.  Today, however, I am basking in the beauty of the past two days when I have enjoyed his company at my request.  There was no adjusting schedules to fit him in, no rushing early morning trip to get him before his mother went to work, no dropping everything and picking him up at school - not that I minded any of these things - but this was a planned visit just for the two of us.

Nathan chose the room in which he would sleep, he chose the menus from suggested foods available; he chose to do what he wanted to do; and we worked out our own schedule together just for us.  The only things we didn't schedule were the asthma attacks.

When we went to the pool, we were fortunate to choose a day when some other children whom I knew, and whose parents knew Nathan, were there also.  We shared our lunches together and even stayed longer than we had planned just to have fun with them.  When we did leave, it was because of asthma.  The next day, at the opening of the new movie, "Honey, I Blew Up the Kid," we began to think we might have to forget it all because of the asthma.  We made it with the help of the inhaler.  Last night, we christened the new picnic table in the backyard.  That was fun, too.  We rolled the TV outside and watched as the Cincinnati Reds beat the Cardinals.  We hadn't planned for that to happen, either.

Today, I am picking up paper airplanes from several spots throughout the house.  He had just recently learned to make them and found plenty of scrap paper in his table downstairs to use in his construction.  As I pick them up, I am remembering the special little nine-year-old who had such enjoyment making and flying them, some even flown outside and down the hill.  I remember the fireflies that we caught after dark.  This was not the time of year to find the frogs we usually find.  I think of the sensitive young man that he is: concerned about the foul language at his summer camp and at his school; happy that his dad no longer smokes, because he had asked him to give it up; and concerned about his dad's spiritual life.  "He doesn't like church," Nathan said.

But the specialty of all specialties was that, without question or coercion, he said to me more than once, "Grammy, I love you."  Who would dare to tell me that he is not a special young man?

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Thanks for reading,

Teah