I’ve written 2 books (click their images for previews/purchase) of my journey to emotional wholeness. I w-a-s a blend of Elsa and Olaf! But, since I’ve ramped up my avenues for wholeness, it truly is a wonderful life! I’m not certain I would have appreciated it without the bumps-in-the-night.
The emphasis in my walking years was my body: its natural athletic abilities and its appearance. I was a model and beauty pageant wins paid for college tuition. But, after my spinal cord injury, I wouldn’t look at my reflection in full mirrors, glass doors, and windows. It was part of my denial.
IF ONLY we can see our body as God views it! He loves our flesh. Remember, He created it as a container for, and means to, spirit. On this side of eternity, our body IS God’s grace by which to learn and know Him. Shouldn’t we?
The irony: our body houses, and reflects, who we believe we are and how we feel about others.
Thanks but NO THANKS! I will not bring illness and inadequacy upon myself.
If you’re interested in learning about coming into a place of wholeness using natural healing methods for your mind, body, and spirit, email me with your inquiry at firstname.lastname@example.org
From thirteen to thirty (years of age), we gripe about our mothers. It seems that they question our whereabouts, harp about our choices, preach the benediction of their ways…nag. Hang onto her words. Their truth will come around…when you’re wise enough to understand.
Mine isn’t around to tell her how I appreciate her 120-hour weeks, walking the floor when I missed curfew, teaching honesty, empathy, and compassion…just being there with her protective love. Make sure that yours knows.
To ALL Mothers everywhere: Happy Mother’s Day! There’s no other like you.
I like rocks. I’m good at rock-paper-scissors. And as a child, I was skilled with a hammer; not in its traditional sense. It was wielding the ordinary claw hammer cracking Brazil nuts out of their shells on our brick hearth; and, as a young geologist in my driveway searching for crystals hidden unpredictably inside its rocks. These “diamonds” were my treasures.
I also LOVE flowers! If I had frivolous monies, I would have a fresh, heavenly scented bouquet delivered weekly: Calla lilies with eucalyptus and camellias in December, cheery daffodils in January, macho pansies in February, Carolina jasmine in April, May’s Asian peonies and, to the most important, the Mayflower, of course.
On this Thanksgiving Day, I am thankful for the Mayflower departing Plymouth, England on September 6, 1620 with 102 passengers to land in the new world at my favorite rock (real emeralds and real diamonds aside), Plymouth Rock. Believing in their destiny with the hope for a better world, 102 brave pilgrims (travelers) courageously sacrificed security and comfort for the dream of independence and religious freedom.
A week or so after land was sighted (November 9th), they set foot on the new world.
In Native graves they found baskets of maize (which was probably their first meal) and iron kettles. They reburied the maize for spring planting. They also found Native American homes with mats, implements, corn, and beans of all colors.
Although fifty-percent died the first winter, there were fifty-three Pilgrims and ninety Native Americans who celebrated the first harvest in the new world the following fall, 1621. Squanto, who served as an interpreter (She learned English, probably as a slave in England.) and taught the Pilgrims how to catch eel and grow corn, is credited for the Pilgrim’s success.
It was President Abraham Lincoln who in 1863 officially declared that the fourth Thursday in November be celebrated as a time of “Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficient Father who dwelleth in the Heavens.”
Can you give me an AMEN!