There once was a man called friend.
With sparkling blue eyes and an engaging smile,
Who captured my heart.

A thoughtful, kind and caring soul.
Through thick and through thin,
A good friend to all.

Passionate and caring of things of import.
Arguments vocalized with a friendly banter,
Refusal to back down or be swayed from his point.

Then the day came, when rough waters abound.
A cry went out for the help of a supportive friend.
Only to be met with silence.

Confused information with participation.
Choices sent waves of disappointment;
From which he would not repent.

The phone remained silent; e-mails unanswered.
Hurt and withdrawal necessitated,
A decision…to give up.

Decision made to move on.
Eyes fixed forward, must not look back.
In reality…a struggle each day.

Until one day…success.
Conversation…but nary a thought of him came to mind.
Shocked, surprised and appalled!

How could I…what kind of a person am I?
To so easily forget,
One, once considered a friend?

It’s now officially autumn…one of my favorite times of year.

In southern California…it’s an almost invisible change…except as we near winter and our trees loose their leaves. We don’t have the lovely colors of fall like folks in the mid-west or eastern part of our country. Or even like my Canadian blogger buddies like Teresa Shirkie at Canadian Blogger and David Fisher at Pilgrim Scribblings.

Theresa’s been sharing some of the lovely photos she’s taken near her home. I must confess I envy their weather and change of seasons. This girl originally from Colorado…loves the four seasons. While I’ve grown use to and even like southern California…one day I would like to return to a part of the country where I can witness the beauty of God’s creation in the seasons.

But even here in southern California…autumn brings a plethora of apples at the local market. Many different varieties to choose from. With the cooler weather and autumn decorations displayed throughout my home…I get inspired to cook. That coming from a very un-domestic kinda gal.

I do believe the man I marry had better be a good cook…otherwise we’ll be eating out a lot. My repertoire consists mostly of breads, cookies and deserts. My one venture that is different…is homemade applesauce.

When listening to Chef Jamie Gwen’s show several years ago…she shared her recipe for homemade applesauce…done in the crock pot. It sounded so good…easy even for the kitchen novice like me. Done with a little twist…instead of adding water you add a can of Ginger Ale.

So I shot off my e-mail to Chef Jamie…and was quickly rewarded with my new favorite recipe for homemade applesauce.

4 to 6 Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored and cut
One 12 oz can of Ginger Ale
¼ cup of Brown Sugar
1 Cinnamon Stick

Place all ingredients in a crock pot and cook on low for five to six hours. When ready to serve…stir with a fork to gain the applesauce texture. Substitute allspice or nutmeg for cinnamon…or add other spices to taste.

My sister Denise (who is a fantastic cook) gave me the idea to add some vanilla to the recipe.

I’ll tell you…after making homemade applesauce…I’ll never go back to the store bought variety again. It’s just too good to settle for the lesser after having the homemade version.

So while this girl never in her life has made a pot roast and wouldn’t have a clue how to make chicken and dumplings…I do make a pretty mean batch of applesauce.

Whether I eat it solo or topped over cottage cheese or cheese blintzes…I like to keep a supply handy in the fridge. Especially this time of year.

Now if any of you have a recipe that uses applesauce…I’d love it if you would share with this kitchen novice.

Time to break out that crock pot and peeler…and get cooking.

I’d like to be able to report that thought the trials and tribulations that I’ve experienced in the past year…that my faith has never wavered, nary had a doubt crossed my mind…and my walk was rock solid. But if I said that…I’d be lying and my next sentence would be confessing my sins.

As it is…I must confess the sin of doubt and not fully trusting God. Make no mistake…I do believe in God…and in Jesus Christ his Son who gave his life on the cross to pay the penalty for my sins…and I know that the Holy Spirit dwells within me. I have absolute confidence that God is able to do anything. He is all powerful, omniscient and omnipresent…and he is able, more than able to accomplish what concerns me today.

Where my doubt creeps in…is when I doubt that God cares for me personally and or that he will do that which he has promised me. When this most recent trial started…God impressed upon me the scripture “Stand firm and see the deliverance of the Lord.” – 2 Chronicles 20:17.

So over these many months…I looked expectantly to God for his promised deliverance. I was ever so certain about what the outcome would be. However…even I had to admit my deliverance didn’t come quite as quickly as I had hope. I waited…and waited…and waited. At a certain point it became obvious even to me…one who is a bit slow on the uptake…that God wasn’t going to be answering my prayers in the manner I desired or in my time frame.

Did I handle all this upheaval with grace and peace? Always wearing a cheery smile and displaying a chipper attitude? Bearing good witness to unbelievers just how good, powerful and trustworthy my God is? Not exactly.

A roller coaster is an apt description. Up one day…and down the next. Sometimes those changes occurred within a matter of minutes. Overall…I’d say each week and month I found myself improving. Only to have a hick-up every now and again…or what I called “a down day.”

I found those “hick-ups” very frustrating. I hate making emotional progress…moving forward only to find myself falling backwards again. Assailed with more doubts…as hurt feeling arise to the surface once again.

In some respects I’ve felt like I was in a car accident and sustained injuries…cuts and bruises all over my body. Daily life keeps touching those injuries…not allowing them to fully heal. Like seeing co-workers with whom I had worked with for many years…and now I was not allowed to work with them any longer. People that didn’t know me considered me unworthy or deserving to be a part of that which I had loved…and that hurts.

The thing I couldn’t understand…and couldn’t let go of is the question “Why?” Why didn’t anyone fight for me? Why didn’t anymore speak up and say “Hey…she’s really good. She’s deserves a shot at this job…give her a chance.”

Every time I would make emotional progress…I’d come back to the question why? God has designed me in such a fashion…that I have to probe, prod and push. I speak the truth. I ask the tough questions…the ones that people don’t feel too comfortable asking…much less answering. When there is an elephant in the room…you can be sure I’ll be bringing it up.

Now it took me a while to work up the nerve. To directly ask the one person I needed to hear the answer from. I guessed I’d hoped against hope that one day there would be a conversation. Something to the effect of “Susan, I’m sorry but…”. But that day never came.

So on one of those “bad days”…I asked they question. “Why?” And I got my answer. While not what I liked…or necessarily the apology that I wanted to hear…I got the truth from the person I needed to hear it from. From the person…who rightly or wrongly I held responsible. I wasn’t mad…I just felt hurt and I didn’t understand why things happened the way they did.

So what was the answer? “Everyone was fighting for their own job. They communicated how good you were…but it didn’t work out.” That “everyone”…included the person I held responsible.

At the time I heard those words I felt a release. What I needed to know…what I needed to hear for so long now…I finally had an answer for. Thank you God! What I had felt over all these months was finally validated and not ignored.

Some of the other words that accompanied the above statements…I had a harder time absorbing. Or more accurately I had a hard time accepting them. My heart and head were not connected. While intellectually I was keenly aware that words were accurate…my bruised heart was not ready to accept the truth and let go just yet. I needed some time to digest the words.

That evening while driving home from Bible study I had what Beth Moore calls a “God Stop”. A time when you recognize God’s presence, his hand, work and purpose in your life. Sometimes the vision is clear…and sometimes it’s veiled. But it’s a recognizable God Stop. Normally it’s easier to see those God Stops after the fact…with the clarity of hindsight.

But this night…God’s message was clear to me. My working in loss prevention…how I got the job and how my career progressed revealed God’s hand and purpose in my life. It was where he had called me to be. He had made the way…and now he wants me in a different place for me. Where exactly I don’t know.

God tells us that he is a jealous God. That he does not want us to put anything before him. The job that I had loved so very much…I had allowed to become unbalanced in my life. I loved the work…I loved the people. But I worked too many hours and allowed it to dominate my life. So much so that I put it over even taking good care of myself physically or building relationships outside of work.

That in part is why God has moved me. That is why he has put up a wall and blocked my every attempt to get back in to loss prevention. There is no opening a door which God has closed.

I don’t know if it was studying the book of Ezra that night that made me my aware of God’s hand and purpose in my life. When I saw that long before Cyrus was born…God’s revealed through the works of his profit Isaiah that Cyrus would be born and be part of God’s plan to enable the Jews to rebuild the temple. God in his sovereignty placed Daniel who would share God’s word with King Cyrus. God brought Zerubbabel who would lead the Jews back to Jerusalem and complete the rebuilding of the temple. Though the 70 years of the Jews captivity in Babylon…God safeguarded the treasures plundered from the Jewish temple. And in God’s time table…his plan was fulfilled.

Here I sit…thousands of years later. Not a great profit or man of God with unwavering faith. Instead a humble servant of God whose faith is at times very weak. One who has a hard time trusting the holy, righteous, omniscient, omnipotent God who loves me. The servant who is blinded to God’s hand, plan and purpose for my life…when things don’t go as I’ve expected.

Then I look at the faithful witness of my beloved former Pastor, Chuck Obremski. I see a man willing to humble himself under the mighty plan of God. Willing to be used as an instrument in God’s plan…no matter what the personal sacrifice. Instead of asking God why as his body faded away…he asked God what. What are you going to do in these circumstances? What is your plan…what would you have me to do?

After witnessing God’s hand, purpose and plan being carried out in his willing and faithful servant…ought I not do the same? What made the difference in the servants of God? What made the difference in Daniel, Zerubbabel, or David or Paul? What turned Jesus band of disciples from men who were scared and scatter when he was crucified…into men who would willing and loudly go forth and proclaim the gospel message no matter what the price? Was it not the word of God? Was it not the Holy Spirit of God that rested upon them and dwelled within them?

That same word of God…the same Holy Spirit is available to this humble, frail servant of God. Now will I choose to trust God? Will I choose to believe him…and know that he has a purpose and plan that he is working out in my life…even when he chooses not to share the specifics with me?

I don’t know exactly what God will be doing in my life through these changes. Perhaps his plan includes changing my circumstances in order to answer other prayers that I have uttered. Like my life long prayer to be married? I won’t know the answer as long as I resist that which God is doing in my life?

So between God’s mercy demonstrated to me by allowing me to hear those words I needed hear…and that God Stop where God showed me that he has a purpose and plan that he is working out in the lives of his people…I think that maybe I’m starting to “get it”.

Like I said earlier…I just hate it when I make progress only later to find myself assailed by doubts, fear and not trusting God. So it is with fear and trembling that I say that I may have had a breakthrough in this new chapter of my life. I would do well to utter that prayer “Jesus…I believe…please help me with my unbelief.”

Purses…women’s purses are a very personal thing. From the size, style and color that you have…to making sure that no one touches your purse or worse yet…goes into your purse. That includes a beloved husband, children or friends. To do so…is to cross a personal boundary. Why? Well I think there a lot of reasons.

Purses are a woman’s thing…a girly girl thing. Unless of course you are Brian Kilmeade from Fox & Friends. Then you carry a “man bag”. Yeah right! Come on Brian…everyone knows it’s a purse. A glorified purse. A purse by any other name…is still a purse.

Men on the other hand carry brief cases…or now days…computer bags or cases. Not purses (except for Brian of course). Women also care brief cases and computer bags…but theirs are pretty and stylish. Most of the ones guys carry are good, solid and sturdy. They look manly…or at least neutral.

What all do women carry in their purse? Probably the easier question to answer is what’s not in there. An essential is a wallet, with cash, and change (in case you need to use a payphone), credit cards, a checkbook, pictures of family and friends. You thought Boy Scouts were prepared…well you never met a real woman. In a woman’s purse you might find something to take care of any emergency. A cell phone is a must…and a PDA to look up more numbers and address and of course the garage door opener. Reading glasses (for those over 40) and sun glasses. From Band-Aids, to paper clips, to safety pins, and pens a real woman is prepared. But don’t forget the gum, mints and cough drops. You must make room for lipstick and other make-up touch ups. A brush or comb would be the prudent thing to carry…but please make sure you have some hair spray too. Then there are the unmentionable personal items we all know women carry in their purse…but we don’t talk about it in mixed company. (But of course you’ll see some advertisement blaring at the whole family in the family hour on TV. Didn’t they use to restrict things like that to certain times of day…or better yet…can’t we restrict it to magazines only?) Have a headache…need an aspirin…just ask the woman walking by who is carrying a purse. You’ll likely have what you need…lickety split. That extensive list doesn’t even touch on what mom’s with kids carry in their purses.

With such a comprehensive list…a good size purse if a must. Unless you have a natural bent for organization…your purse must also have multiple sections…so you can keep things organized. Organized so you can find what you need at a moments notice.

That’s why…the purse that I purchased recently did not cut the mustard. It was big…big enough to carry all my “stuff”. But I tell you…it had to have been designed by a man. Someone who doesn’t know the practical realities of trying to find something in your purse. It had one large compartment…one! And everything ended up at the bottom. Big thumbs down on this purse.

So less than 24 hours after using this purse….I had to stop and purchase another purse. Much to my pleasant surprise…Mervyns had a buy one, get one free sale. So I was able to get two purses instead of one.

This time…I made sure both were not only good sized…but had compartments so I could be organized. An essential factor in purse selection for the real woman.

The black and brown one…will be good for fall and winter…and versatile too. I can use it with different outfits quite nicely.

But the one I fell in love with…the red one. I’ve never had a red purse in all my life. Imagine that…red. In some respects…totally unpractical. I hardly ever wear red. But I really like it. The color is great…fun and zippy and dare I say…even a wee bit sexy. Definitely girly girl stuff.

Young girls…now they can get away with a teeny, tiny purse. After all they have to carry around lipstick, cash and maybe a cell phone. But a real woman…needs a big purse.

One friend of mine Claudia has a thing for purses…her one vice. She has a variety of the cutest purses. Coach purses no less. Which I have come to find out are the crème de al crème of purses.

Now I’m a cheap son of a gun…and think I would faint if I spent the big bucks for designer purses. But I have been considering springing for a Dooney & Burke purse. A little pricy…but not outrageous…and very well made. So if I went for a very well made Dooney & Burke…I might not be purchasing purses quite so often. I don’t have an affection for purses like Claudia does. But I’m very hard on purses. Very hard. I put them through the paces. So this cheap son of a gun…may invest in a really well made purse one of these days.

But I tell you…I’m in love with my new red purse. Why…I’m not sure. But there’s something about that red that I love.

Ah…I just love being a girl!

Indeed I am back. After what seems like an eternity…I am finally able to sit down…and put my fingers on the keyboard and do what I love best…write. Ahhhh…it feels so very good.

So…what have I been doing? Have I just been flakey…or had a serious case of writers block? No…in fact there have been a number of ideas floating around my mind that I wanted to write about…but between physical ailments and responsibilities demanding my time there has been precious little time to do that which I love.

I recently recapped my month of August…which was pretty much a loss because I was in excruciating pain…which praise Jesus he removed in response to prayers from many on my behalf.

Before I knew it…September hit…and with it a very busy schedule. I spent Labor Day, laboring away as I listened to my favorite radio show Dennis Prager’s Labor Day show in which his listeners called in to tell about their work.

As I listened to this annual show I was reminded that year ago I had tried to call into the program. I was in the queue and planed to tell what kind of work I did and how much I loved my job and the people I worked with. When I listened to this year’s show the thing that stood out was the common factor…how much everyone loved their job. That’s when I realized…I really need to try for a couple of job opportunities that had come my way.

So I geared up for a few more interviews…both in loss prevention. One of them…was in the department I like…but not doing the work I wanted. For the past year or two…my aim has been to move into an LP analyst job. But I decided to give a shot and see what it was about. The first interview went well…and felt more like talking shop about my favorite subject than an interview. I could really envision myself working with this person long term. So I then proceeded to a second interview. This one provided much clarity. While the people and the company were good…the job responsibilities were not what I wanted. While disappointed that this wasn’t what I was looking for…I was grateful for the clarity to know I needed to say thanks, but no thanks.

Then came the news I had been hoping to hear for some time…my old boss Peter B. had a job opening doing just what I wanted…an LP Analyst. So…mine was the first resume submitted. While I waited for my interview day…I debated back and forth. Is this what I wanted? It would mean longer commute and giving up 22 years with my current company…5 weeks vacation and a good reputation with people who know me. Did I want it? Yeah…I think so…but with some reservations.

Of the seven interviews I’ve had in the last five months…I walked out of this one the least certain on how I did. It was the shortest…and by the book. An interview by four people…two HR and two LP personnel. I’m very good at reading people…but two of them were very hard to read.

So I came away from the interview…unsure. The next day I talked to my old boss Peter. He asked me how it went…and I told him I had no idea. He assured me that I did well…and was one of the top two candidates. In some respects I felt confident because I know what I bring to the table…skills, experience and passion to learn and grow. When I learned that the other top person was an internal candidate…I my uncertainty grew. This other person had been with their company and had done an excellent job. She brought to the table things that I did not. Familiarity with the company and its policies and procedures to name a few.

So I went into that weekend with mixed emotions. I wanted that job. I wanted it because it fit exactly what I’ve been aiming for, for a couple of years now. It was also what I had earned and deserved…or at least deserved the shot at.

Yet…after all I’ve been through in the past nine months I knew that company loyalty is so very important. The right thing to do is reward good people and good performers. So I wrote Peter B. an e-mail and told him that if I wasn’t heads above their internal candidate that they needed to go with her and not me.

Was that e-mail as magnanimous as it sounds? Yes and no. Absolutely I meant it from the bottom of my heart. I wished that my company would have given me that same consideration when I interviewed for a job. But my work, history, reputation and abilities amounted to nothing. I suppose in some respects I also wrote that as a self defense mechanism…softening the blow if I didn’t get the job.

Thankfully unlike another job I interviewed for…these people had the courtesy and decency to let me know the news without delay. Peter B. called me on Wednesday to let me know that they went with the internal candidate.

Ouch…that stung. I understood their decision and respected it. But I feel like I’ve been on the auction block and trying to sell myself for many months now. I’m weary and that which I want eludes me.

It was easy for me to say no to the other jobs and companies I interviewed for. I knew I didn’t want the jobs that they had open. The two jobs I knew I wanted…they said no to me. There are no other words to say…except…it hurts. This last one…the rejection felt personal. I mean after all my old boss called to tell me about the job and advised me to interview for it. And at the end of the day…the answer was no.

So you may be saying…Susan why are putting all this writing? Isn’t it kind of personal and private? Well…I guess just need a place to be real. Writing is how I work things out. At work…when Peter C. dropped by and asked if I got the job…I had to put on my game face. Here I can say what’s in my heart.

Miss Ruth assured me that God would honor my good character and acting honorably. Peter B. and Doug assured me that you never know what’s going to happen. Things could change tomorrow. I could finally get that job offer I’ve wanted. Not that I doubt them…but right now that seems very far fetched…like a fairy tale and ever so far away. Instead it’s what you say to someone to appease them or comfort them…even if it’s not true. Yet…I still hold out a ray of hope.

When and where my deliverance will come from…I know not. But I do know from whom. When this whole job adventure started God had given me the scripture verse “Stand firm and see the deliverance of the Lord.” Recently it seemed like God’s message had changed and he was preparing me to move.

Sometimes I wish I had the clear and direct signs of old. Like when God led the Israelites in the desert. A cloud by day and fire by night. When I think about Abraham, Joseph, Moses and David…I see that God promised them deliverance. And indeed God was faithful to his promise. Yet there was a long period between God’s promise of deliverance and when it actually occurred.

Oh God, my God…where is my promised deliverance? I stand looking and waiting for your promised deliverance.

There once was a man called friend.
With sparkling blue eyes and an engaging smile,
Who captured my heart.

A thoughtful, kind and caring soul.
Through thick and through thin,
A good friend to all.

Passionate and caring of things of import.
Arguments vocalized with a friendly banter,
Refusal to back down or be swayed from his point.

Then the day came, when rough waters abound.
A cry went out for the help of a supportive friend.
Only to be met with silence.

Confused information with participation.
Choices sent waves of disappointment;
From which he would not repent.

The phone remained silent; e-mails unanswered.
Hurt and withdrawal necessitated,
A decision…to give up.

Decision made to move on.
Eyes fixed forward, must not look back.
In reality…a struggle each day.

Until one day…success.
Conversation…but nary a thought of him came to mind.
Shocked, surprised and appalled!

How could I…what kind of a person am I?
To so easily forget,
One, once considered a friend?

I’ve loved music for as long as I can remember. I guess you could describe my musical taste as eclectic. I love anything from contemporary Christian music to good old rock and roll. Throw in a little country and but please don’t forget classical. I love jazz, the blues and romantic classics from the 40’s, 50’s and 60’s. If you have a Broadway show tune playing I will likely be singing every lyric…I just love it.

I consider music a gift from God…and am ever so thankful for music and my ability to hear.

Recently…I heard about a website where you can purchase songs…for a minimal price. Since there are many of the songs I grew up with and still love…I was excited at the prospect listening to some of my favorite songs from my youth.

Just the other night I purchased Neil Diamond’s “Beautiful Noise” album. In my tumultuous teenage years…I spent many an hour listening to these songs. All the while contemplating, dreaming, hoping and wondering what my future would be like.

What would those coming years hold in store?

It was though I was standing on a precipice. The direction my life would take would be set by the choices I would make…both good and bad. Little did I know back then that seemingly inconsequential decisions would impact me greatly. They helped form my character, which in turn would influence future decisions. Only with hindsight can I see more clearly. Yet…I still remain blind as to what consequence other decisions would have been.

Some of those bad decisions would result in years of poor self esteem and painful shyness. So much of what I had hoped and dreamed for…faded away…vanished. They seemed to swirl down the drain and I was helpless to stop it and unable to retrieve what I had lost.

Here I stand today…listening to one of my favorite albums. At times still wishing for some of those same dreams I had way back when. Reality achieved can be painful when measured against hopes and dreams.

Yet that same music raises a spirit of hope and possibilities…of what can be accomplished even at this late date. Now I have the perspective of God and Jesus Christ within me at work in my life. I know that He and He alone is able to do abundantly more than all I ask or imagine. I know first hand the changes He has made in me.

There will remain in me…a till my dying day a hope that God will answer some of those prayers I uttered so very long ago.

It is a strange day indeed when I find myself aligned with a man of the left, a self proclaimed socialist, Christopher Hitchens.

While I haven’t fully researched Mr. Hitchens’ stance on abortion, the death penalty, immigration, border security, equality vs. liberty, tax reform, welfare, the myth of “separation of church and state in the Constitution”, the debate over English immersion vs. bilingual education, universal health care and more…there is at least one area…where we stand in full agreement. We both have a love and passion for the truth.

While listening to Dennis Prager’s radio show on Wednesday, my jaw dropped as Christopher Hitchens shared the information that was recently revealed as to whom the true source of the CIA Plame leak was. I shook my head with disbelief and wanted to say, “You go boy”…as Christopher detailed of the facts that have come to light…and information from his many years of research to expose the lies and the liars for what they are.

That may seem like strong language…to out and out call someone a liar. But when you hear the lies that were perpetuated and how other people were smeared and painted as villains in the liberal mainstream press…while the man who actually leaked Ms. Plame’s name to the press shut up, sat back and watched, I think you’ll understand. I use “man” cautiously…because there was nothing denoting courage, character or anything remotely reflecting the character of someone I would feel comfortable attributing the title of “man”.

That person…is none other than Richard Armitage.

Just to review a few facts.
In January 2002, former Ambassador Joe Wilson was sent to Niger by the CIA to investigate claims that back in 1999 Iraqi Ambassador Wissam al-Zahawie went to Niger on a shopping trip for yellowcake uranium. After his trip to Niger Joe Wilson reported, “It did not take long to conclude that it was highly doubtful that any such transaction had ever taken place.”

Back in January 2003, George Bush during his State of the Union address, unleashed a firestorm of debate, controversy and “investigation” by the press when he uttered the words “The British Government has learned that Saddam Hussein recently sought significant quantities of uranium from Africa.” He gave this statement to support and justify the United States going to war against Iraq.

The press and prominent persons on the left (frequently one and the same) in their usual rush to judgment, without fully investigating the facts, repeatedly called George Bush a “liar”. They alleged that George Bush had lied in his quest and desire to go to war with Iraq and bring down Saddam Hussein. They went to battle against George Bush…and as time and facts would later reveal, they would stop at nothing to oppose the President whom they so fiercely disagree and even hate.

In July 2003, journalist Robert Novak reported that Joe Wilson’s wife Valerie Plame was “an agency operative on weapons of mass destruction.” He further went on to state that, “Two senior administration officials told me Wilson’s wife suggested sending him (Joe Wilson) to Niger to investigate the Italian report.”

That column unleashed hysterics and cries that the Bush White House had outed CIA operative Valerie Plame to settle a score. They made serious charges that this act was “a possible breach of national security; it is a potential violation of law. Under the Intelligence Identities Protection Act of 1982, it is a crime for anyone who has access to classified information to disclose intentionally information identifying a covert agent.”

What ensued was scandal and investigation. In December of 2003, Patrick Fitzgerald was appointed Special Investigator to investigate the “unauthorized disclosure of a CIA employee’s identity.

In October 2005…the Fitzgerald investigation ended with the indictment of L. Lewis Libby, Assistant/Chief of Staff to Vice President to Dick Cheney. The charges: Count One Obstruction of Justice, Count Two False Statement, Count Three False Statement, Count Four Perjury, and Count Five Perjury.

During this two year time frame…numerous people came under a cloud of suspicion as unfounded and false allegations swirled about them. Some of those include President George Bush, Vice President Dick Cheney, but none more so than the man the left wing press loves to hate Chief of Staff Karl Rove.

Our country was sided tracked and focused on what turned out to be a non-issue. Valerie Plame was not an active covert CIA agent under the guidelines covered by the law and disclosing her name did not violate the law.

Many people paid the price as Fitzgerald pursued this rabbit trial. Journalist Judith Miller spent twelve weeks in jail for contempt of court. Lewis Libby was hung out to dry and charged on five counts, none of which are the original charge of disclosing the name of a CIA operative. Bush, Cheney and Rove among others were pilloried. The press was almost distraught when Karl Rove did not come under indictment. They followed him and hounded him for months.

All the while…Richard Armitage knew that he was the true source that leaked Valerie Plame’s name as a CIA operative. Richard Armitage sat back and watched as people’s names were wrongly drug through the mud, and their lives made a living hell.

Richard Armitage could have saved our country this ongoing scandal which only served to distract us from the real enemy Islamic Fascist Terrorists. He let us pursue a lie…at great expense. None more so than those who those who were under suspicion for something that they did not do.

How much did this investigation cost our country? How much did it cost to imprison Judith Miller? How can you repay her for twelve weeks of her life sitting in jail…while you Mr. Armitage sat on your duff and didn’t say a word.

Richard Armitage…your actions and lack thereof are despicable. I find your silence contemptible. You have displayed zero courage…and your lack of character is astounding.

Serving this country should be considered a privilege by the few who get to serve at the level you were at. You have proved yourself unworthy of the title Deputy Secretary of State. Richard Armitage you are a picture of cowardice to the “nth degree”.

People hung in the wind, were accused of false allegations and kept under suspicion for over two years. There was an enormous cost and others paid the price for your actions and silence. My only regret is that you can not be prosecuted…because disclosing Ms. Plame’s name was not a crime. But make no mistake…your actions were immoral.

How do you sleep at night Richard? What are you thinking when you look in the mirror? How do you look people in eye?

Being that you shared this information with then Secretary of State Colin Powell and he too failed to bring forth the truth speaks very poorly of both of you. You are both complicit in your silence. Both of you were underhanded as you sought to undermine the President. Not just in this instance but when other leaks were made to the press that countermanded the President’s policies and decisions.

Absolutely there is room for disagreement on Iraq, on the war and how it should be executed. But the right way to do it would have been to step down from your post and then present your case. Make an argument, present the facts, you opinions and reasoning. Have an open, honest dialogue. But that would actually courage wouldn’t it? You would need to be a “stand up kind of guy”…certainly not words that would describe you.

I agreed with and did support the removal of Saddam Hussein from power because he was a danger and supported terrorists. But now I have more than a few doubts about how we have executed the war in Iraq. I believe we overreached, underestimated…and did not take into full account the opposition that we would face as a result of cultural differences. I have reservations with the idea that democracy can take hold in Arab and Muslim countries. Freedom, liberty and personal responsibility go hand in hand with the Judeo Christian values that our country was founded on. Freedom and liberty are in stark contrast with Islam and Sharia Law.

But I’ll end this with a question. Richard Armitage…where is your apology? Where is your statement acknowledging your wrongdoing and cowardly silence?

The press got it wrong. The leaking of Valarie Plame’s name did not come from someone who wanted to get back at her. Nor get back at Joe Wilson for presenting a report that conflicted with evidence that supported the war in Iraq. It came from a well known critic of President George Bush and his stance on Iraq, Richard Armitage.

Instead the press ran with lies. The lie that Iraq was not attempting to purchase yellowcake uranium (which has since been proven true) and the lie that senior administration officials had broken the law by disclosing Ms. Plame’s name out of a desire for revenge has been kept alive by the liberal mainstream press. In their hatred of George Bush and desire to do anything to bring him down…the press resorted to the very tactics which they accused the Bush administration of.

Dear members of the press…time for you to look in the mirror boys and girls. That same hand that points a finger at Bush…has three more pointing right back at you. When will we hear acknowledgement of wrong doing and an apology? On that one I can safely wager on.

Being a liberal means never having to say you’re sorry.

Soon I may be facing a decision…this time one of my own choosing.

In some respects…I’m in the enviable position of not caring about what happens one way or the other. I have two job interviews coming up with good companies in the line of work that I like best. So there is a part of me that would jump at the chance of taking one of these jobs if offered a position.

Yet…I have reservations. Each job has its good points and downsides too. What I would be giving up if I left my current company is substantial…but if presented with the right offer…I might take that risk.

Things are improving overall as my current job transition progresses…but I still desire something else. I like taking on a challenge…and learning new aspects of the business. So I guess I’m a bit conflicted and uncertain as to what I should do.

At this point…I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t have a clue as to what choice I will make.

Even as I face the prospect of making a choice…I find that there are words I long to hear that would sway my decision.

Like every woman…I long to hear those words from my future husband, “I love you.” But right now…those aren’t the words I long to hear.

There are two words…just two…that I want to hear. Now I know…that’s not going to happen. But hey…I’m a girl and I can hope and dream now can’t I?

After the hoping and dreaming stops…at the end of the day…I’m going to have to make a decision. It is my prayer that God will make the path He desires for me to take crystal clear. That He will give me wisdom and discernment to make the decision He would have me to make.

So it’s been a while hasn’t it? Yes siree bob.

It’s not for laziness, nor lack of ideas that my blog postings have been a little on the sparse side lately. Alright, alright…alright already…downright absent if the truth be told.

Why? Well…the reasons are multifaceted. For one thing…I have zero energy these days. I call it a scary tired. When you are so tired…that you are concerned and know that it’s more than just not getting enough sleep. It feels like something is wrong. It takes every bit of energy to get through eight hours at work…when I’m use to working a lot longer than that. Normally at eight hours…I’m just starting to reeve up my engines.

If I’m a betting person…I’d guess it’s low iron again. For a while now…when I attempt to give blood with the Red Cross I get the “thanks, but no thanks” line.

Adding to the mix…I figured I’d toss in a week or so with precious little sleep. After all when I die…I will get to rest. I don’t have time now…my time is surly at a premium.

And while I’m at it…why not toss in some pour eating choices…like sweets and salty food. Water…I hear it’s highly overrated. Okay…well not really…but I’m just trying to paint a picture.

Now when you don’t get enough sleep…and aren’t eating the right foods…it’s kind of hard to wake up in the morning. When you run on a really tight schedule in the morning that leaves little room for leeway and when you don’t get up when the alarm first rings…well something’s got to give. That something would be my morning walk.

My morning walks are what gives me energy for my day. When they are absent or shortened…I’m starting a bad cycle. To tip things over the edge…I have the added factor of jaw pain as my wisdom teeth are on the move again. Good gracious…I’m forty-seven years old…when does this stuff stop?
During this time…I’ve had plenty of ideas on what to write about…but not enough energy to carry it out. Then there’s the foggy thinking that accompanies the extreme exhaustion.

So…as the week begun…I decided to make some better choices. Eating better, drinking more water, getting more sleep…eating some iron rich food…and even taking some vitamins too. My goal…by the end of the week is to be feeling better than how I felt at the beginning of the week.

With these changes…prayers from my faithful friends and God’s help…I hope to be feeling better soon.
So…what’s on the writing horizon? Well…Mike Wallace and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad…you two are on my horizon. I’m chomping at the bit to take a whack at you on paper Mike. I’m not sure that there are enough words to express how foolish you were and nothing more than a mere pawn in the hands of an evil, sick dictator.

I’d like to deal with the media and their hypocritical stance against Israel as they choose to support terrorist organizations. When you look at their words and actions…and willingness to be so easily duped, into believing lies and being used by terrorists the word anti Semitism come trippingly off my tongue.

And of course…I’m still dealing with a lot of feelings over losses. Recently loss of co-workers and job changes…but also significant anniversaries of the deaths of loved ones. I’m sure that faith and forgiveness will be factoring into these subjects.

Then there will be a labor of love…as I remember my step-father Joe’s birthday. He would have been 92 come August 25th. My sister Denise did a lovely job in remembering her Dad. From the first moment I read it…I thought it was perfect…and it made me cry.

Hope to be blogging right soon.

I know that for a while…I’ll have good days and bad days…as I still grieve the loss of so much in the past year. It seems like now the good days out number the bad. But I have an occasional hick-up…like I did this week.

It wasn’t because folks that had interviewed me for a desired job were in town…that was irrelevant for the most part.

Why I was so sad…and a trifle on the touchy side this week…had to do with an anniversary. Each year in August at work…we held an annual Loss Prevention meeting. We would invite in to the office all the LP folks for a big old meeting. It was their turn to shine and showcase what they had learned or what they were doing in their stores to make a difference for good.

Getting ready for the meeting was lot of work for everyone involved. Planning the meeting…making necessary arrangements. Coming up with just the right presentations…to make their district shine. Of course there was always a little healthy competition…that spurred on each group. I’d get to see the up and coming talent…and the people who would likely be promoted in the coming years.

It was also a really fun time. A time in which I’d finally get to meet people who had been hired over the past year. Finally put a face to a name and meet someone whom I had only known through phone calls. Or catch up with old friends. We’d say we had been around much longer than we would have ever imagined.

The following day…we’d have an outing at the beach or at a park. A day of fun for all.

Each day in my old job…I’d get calls from the LP folks that worked in the stores. Someone of them I didn’t know from meeting personally. But we instead had developed a relationship from our conversations. I’d get to know about what was going on in their life…from marriage to the birth of a child…or a death of a parent. Sometimes it involved their personal issues that necessitated a phone call needing information or forms.

While I only met these folks once or twice a year…they were people that I knew and cared about.

With the recent changes…a number of folks have changed jobs…either within the company…or moved on to other opportunities. It is my prayer and I believe that God will help them, carry them through and bring them into something better. A new place that he has especially designed for them.

I miss them so much. I miss the phones and chatting if only for a couple of minutes to find out how things are in the stores…and where they are working now.

We never got a chance to say goodbye. No meeting…or goodbye dinner where people would linger afterwards and catch up. No schmaltzy awards handed out in love. It was just over…almost like they never existed.

Right now…when I look back at some of the photos from those days…it makes me very sad indeed. Because right now there is an emptiness and hole where they use to be. I know over time…that I will grow to love and care about the people with whom I’m working with now. In fact…that has already started. But there is that hole that remains.

The new people…won’t replace them…because you can’t replace people whom you love and care about. But they will instead add richly to my life and the lives of others.

So as Friday approached…on what would have been that annual meeting…I was feeling pretty tweaked. Add to that, the phone calls that still come my way that are related to my old job. What I’d really wanted to say to them…well I’d best not go there. Oh it’s not dirty…or potty mouth stuff. But it’s bitter…and better left unsaid.

Just writing and remembering about these beloved people helps me to work through the feelings.

Back when I was overweight…which I was for the better part of my life…to varying degrees from about the age of 12 to 39 years old…I kept those feelings inside. Oh I might have been nice, polite and kind on the outside…but those feelings were expressed through overeating. Which is one reason why I was fat for so long.

(The above picture is from my days of “stuffing feelings”.)

Now I’m certain that the folks around me would rather I be fat and shut my mouth. Because these days…I do speak my mind. Normally its kind…well mostly…but very direct. And I do have moments…where I am not restrained in my come backs. I guess restraint in my old life had a price…that of being fat.

I don’t let people get away with much these days. Between my passion to speak the truth…and my desire to not keep stuffing down feelings…I say what I think. I’m sure I annoyed a couple of people in the process this past week.

I found I had writer block this week. In part because I had so many ideas and things I wanted write about, but was unable to focus. In part…I had that block because of the feelings of sadness I wasn’t letting out until now that I’m writing about it.

When I reflect on one person…I have been so annoyed and angry with during this whole process…he seems to be immovable. That only served to make me frustrated. But when thinking about him…I just wanted to cry. I think if I saw him…I would do just that. Not out of anger or bitterness…but out of relief. Relief…that even though he has been absent for a season we are still friends. I’m sure I would cry and give him a big hug to boot.

Perhaps I am deluding myself…and what I think would be tears of relief are only tears of sadness instead. Tears of profound sadness…at least for today.

Tomorrow…well I’ll take that as it comes. I better choose to trust God and his plan and his ability to bring me through as well as those whom I love. My tears and sadness are not a reflection of not trusting God or not believing him. They are just a reflection of the loss of people whom I love, care about and miss greatly.

I miss you guys…and hope you are doing well…and that God’s hand of protection is upon you, guiding and directing you. Lord bless you my friends.

I find myself reflecting on the qualities of courage, character and integrity…and the resulting respect or lack thereof.

I suppose it’s always easier to see these qualities in someone else…and it’s glaringly obvious when it’s lacking. It’s difficult is when someone you’ve respected falls from grace and when they’ve displayed a lack of courage, compromised their character or their integrity is in question.

Disappointment causes me to take a second look. When I have low expectations of someone…when they fail or fall…I am not disappointed. I didn’t expect much to begin with. Their failure only serves to confirm what I already believed. In some instances my expectations may be accurate. In other instances…I may be selling that person short and not leaving room for God to work in their life, change them and transform them.

But when I hold someone in high esteem and they fall from grace…then I keenly feel that disappointment.

I’ve heard it said that God is not disappointed in us…because he knows all. He knows our good points and bad…and our failures don’t take Jesus by surprise.

But we humans…don’t see the whole picture. Sometimes I unwittingly have higher expectations of others than what a real, frail human being can deliver. Sometimes…it’s because a person fails or compromises. I’ve been blinded by my expectations, hopes or beliefs. That fall takes me by surprise…and that hurts.

Sometimes I’ve have been deceived by a pretty picture painted for me…and I fail to take a closer look when I see signs that reveal things aren’t quite as they first appear. I guess one question is…did I paint that picture or did they?

Respect…there are different levels of respect. Some people I respect solely because of their position of authority. But outside of my immediate interaction with them…I have no respect for them. But I “respect the position”.

Then there are folks that I respect their work or the quality of the work they do and their ability to deliver on what they promise.

Some people…I respect their personal character. They display a high degree of personal integrity, honesty and have a good work ethic. They treat everyone with decency. The way they act with me…is the way they act with other people. What’s said in private is consistent with their public persona. I can take their word to the bank.

When someone whom I respect falls…it’s painful. I have to ask myself…did I have too high of expectations of them…and not allow them to be human, frail and room to fail? Did I delude myself into believing a lie? Is it simply a stumble that we all do along life’s pathway of life? Or is it a serious character flaw that I failed to see clearly?

Sometimes I find it easier to “act respectfully” towards people whom I don’t respect…because I know it’s just an act. It means nothing…it’s just because of their position of authority.

But more and more…I find it difficult to show respect to people whom I once respected. I find it difficult to be silent…not speak out. Yet…the wisest course of action may be to be respectful anyway…and to just plain shut up and keep my opinions to myself. After all…I’m the only one that gives a hoot and holler about what I feel.

One question I want to ask is…what will it take for someone to compromise their character? What’s the price that keeps someone from doing the right thing? Do they see it? Do they know it? Or are they blinded all the while deceiving themselves? If they are aware…what does it take for them to make things right? Those questions I have no answer for. Frankly I’m too chicken to ask directly. Now is that a lack of character on my part…or prudence?

I also need to ask what charter flaws do others see in me…that they choose not to bring up? If they said it, would I listen? If it came from someone whom I don’t respect…would I care?

But even as I look at others…I ought to keep a mirror close by and examine and measure myself in these areas too. Being ever mindful of Jesus’ admonition to, “Take the beam out of my own eye before I try to help my brother take the splinter out of his eye.”

Perhaps it’s time to break out Chuck’s CD’s on forgiveness: A Genuine Servant Forgives and A Genuine Servant Forgives and Forgets. I think I need a reminder on forgiveness…and to be ever mindful of my own sins and failures.

Not to excuse or says those failures don’t matter. But in the light of God’s plan and purpose from my life…the only one I should be looking to is God. Not frail man who will disappoint me at one time or another. I need to respond to the failure of others…in the manner I would want them to respond to me when I fail. I need to respond with grace and mercy…as God has towards me. I think I’ve got some work to do…on this score.

I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior relatively late in my life…at the age of 32. When I look at the statistics on how many people are saved as they get older…I am even more grateful for my salvation in Jesus Christ.

Let me tell you how God worked in my life. As a child growing up…we did not go to church. I’m not sure I can answer exactly why that was except my father Frank was not a Christian. He was more of an intellectual…and while he believed that there was a God…he did not know the God of the Bible. He did not accept Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior.

My mom Gayle on the hand had been raised as a Lutheran. She and my dad met during World War II…and were married. While my mom was raised in the church…I don’t think her faith was very deep…nor her knowledge of the Bible extensive. After all she had been willing to marry an unbeliever and raise her children without going to church or teaching them about God.

As a child…our family didn’t read the Bible or pray. I don’t even remember going to church on Easter or Christmas.

While I never witnessed my father’s belief in God…it is my hope that before he died when I was ten…he may have accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior. He died a few short weeks after being diagnosed with cancer. He was taken to a hospital a couple of hundred miles from home…and I never saw him again. I wasn’t even told he was dying nor given the chance to say goodbye.

Following my dad’s death…my mom and I started attending church. When we moved to California and we went to church with my grandparents Mary and Henry. We went to a St. Olaf’s Lutheran church in Garden Grove.

This was the first time in my life that I had ever gone to church…at least on a regular basis. While my parent’s faith was not readily apparent…they did have me baptized as a baby. Not sure I exactly understand why my parents had me baptized when God was not a part of their everyday lives.

As a child…I did have a curiosity and a desire to go to church. Now this will sound strange…but I even remember lying to a friend when I was about 8 years old…telling her that we attended church.

When I started attending church with my mom and grandparents…I was still not a believer…but God as working on my heart. Even back then…I always wanted to sit in the front row. Whenever possible…I do so today. I love it…no distractions…and I can focus on the sermon and what God wants me to learn.

The Pastor at the St. Olaf’s church was pretty hip as I recall. This would have been back in the early 70’s. A few years after we had moved…he broke his back while body surfing. To an 11 or 12 year old girl…he seem older…at least middle age. But now I wonder how old he was during that time. It will be an interesting conversation with him when I get to heaven.

While living in California for the first time…I went to summer camp through the YWCA. I was terribly homesick…my first time away from home. But within a week or two…the home sickness wore off and I fell in love with camp and stayed the entire summer. At camp…I remember singing songs around the campfire…song about God. Songs like “Rise and shine and give God your glory, glory.” Through those songs…God was wooing me to Himself. But it would still be many years before I would make a conscious decision for Christ.

However during this time…Satan was also planting seeds. My mom was now attending nursing school full time. We had moved and lived in an apartment complex…and I had a lot of time to myself. What filled that time? Food and TV…both of which were destructive influences in my life…both then…and long term.

About this time…is when I started to use food to sooth my pain. Going down the path would lead me to being overweight during much of my life until I was 38. I also used another mind numbing agent…TV. You’ve heard the term…latch key kid. Well I was one of them. I watched soap operas…and while not as bad as they are today…nothing good came of that activity. During this time…I started watching the show Dark Shadows…a show about vampires. Supplemented by a diet of other TV shows including Bewitched eventually lead me down a path of new age during my late teens and into my twenties.

In 1972, my mom and I moved to Prescott, Arizona and my grandmother moved in with us. My grandfather was still alive…but in a nursing home. We attended a Methodist church and I went to Sunday School for the first time.

A couple of years after that…in 1974 my mother remarried. She married Joseph Lorenat…and man with a deep abiding faith in God. As we became a “blended family” one of the new things was attending church each week as a family. Joe was Catholic…and we attended Saint Joseph’s Catholic Church in Placentia, California.

The worship service in the Catholic church is different than a protestant church. It’s more formal and structured. But I had a regular diet of the word God during that time. One Priest that I clearly recall was a visiting Priest, Father Kenney. He was very dynamic…and captivated my attention. He was an on fire Bible believing, Bible teaching preacher.

During this time…I attended church…because it was what we did as a family. My faith was not my own. Yet…it exposed me to God and planted seeds that God would use to bring me to a saving faith in Jesus Christ. After high school…going to church became optional…and at a certain point I stopped going.

That’s about the time…when “new age” teachings caught my attention. Everything from astrology to palm reading to crystals. I read oodles of books…by the likes of Edgar Casey and the Seth books. Jack Addington and Terri Cole Whittaker also held my attention with their teaching of Religious Science. This led me down a dark path that could have easily ended with me spending an eternity in hell.

One scene that stands out in my mind was visiting a local new age teaching center. They had a fair which I attended to get some new materials. While I was there perusing the booths I ran into a lady and her husband. The lady was there to get some book on astrology or some other new age philosophy. We started chatting…and what blew me away is when she said she was a Christian. She was incredulous that I didn’t believe in Jesus Christ. Even back then…I thought to myself, “Lady I’m not the one who is confused. Jesus Christ and Christianity are not compatible with the new age movement.”

That encounter really stuck with me. When I finally accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior I was a passionate about Christians being educated and well grounded in their knowledge of the word of God.

I kind of muddled around in that new age philosophy for quit some time. At one point…I was just plain angry at God because of how my life was turning out. For a while I decided that he didn’t exist and I would live my life however I pleased. That didn’t last for long…because I realized that even if I decided to not serve Him…that indeed God exists.

During this time of my wayward travels…God was with me…and planted seeds for His kingdom. He did so with the likes of a long term Christian friend Kathy. While not the person who directly lead me to Christ…hers was a steady influence of Christ in my life. If it had not been for Kathy…I’m not sure who would have been that witness in my life.

God also brought other Christians into my path. When you are not a believer…Christians can be down right irritating…a real annoyance. One such person was a lady by the name of Eleanor. I worked with her at one of my first jobs at Wineman’s Department Store. She was a quiet, humble Christian woman…firm in her faith. I was a young, know it all kid who wanted nothing to do with her or her God. I wish I could speak with Eleanor now…to let her know that indeed I eventually did come to know and receive Christ as my Lord and Savior.

In 1989, I moved into a home in Fullerton, California. I shared that place with several friends…Kathy, Julie and Dawn. This home would be the place where God would wield the death knell to my days of unbelief. He did so…in a very subtle, unassuming fashion. Not beating me over the head with doctrine and debates over the truth of Christianity…but instead through the gentle force of love.

God brought into my life the Bock family. Then it was only four members…Nancy and David and their children Monica and Brandon. They were a boat load love and embraced me. They didn’t debate faith…they just lived it out. Always one to reach out and include my roommates and me. Include us in their lives…and special events. Their love is what watered the seeds that God had sown earlier. I lived in that house a short two years…but those years would transform my life. Praise God.

I then moved again to share an apartment with my friend Dawn. Shortly thereafter…within week, if not days…I received Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. I picked up the Bible…and said “God I believe it’s true…and I want to know you.” I wanted the peace and love that the Bock family had. Not exactly knowing the full significance of that decision I can’t tell you the exact day…but I remember it clearly.

I started going to church…the church that I knew I wanted to go to was the Crystal Cathedral. I had on occasion attended that church when my mom and I had moved to California in the early 70’s. While I was there I was baptized…sprinkled. I only attended the Crystal Cathedral for about a year or so. While it wasn’t the deepest Christian teaching I’ve sat under…it got me on the road. I do remember one associate Pastor, Bruce Larson who was a good Bible study teacher.

During this time…I was also heavily listening to Christian radio…I couldn’t get enough of it. I was listening to KWVE…and Chuck Smith from Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa. I started attending Calvary Chapel…and did so for a number of years. They have some awesome teaching…that is well grounded in the Bible. One of my favorite teachers was David Hocking.

David started teaching at Calvary Chapel after he had fallen from grace at his former church Calvary Church Santa Ana. David is a great Bible teacher…and he made studying the Bible very exciting. During this time…I was getting some great Bible teaching. But I was also growing restless. That’s when I made the leap to another church.

I ended up changing churches and started attending Saddleback Church. It was so alive and I loved the music and worship. Saddleback Church is where I was baptized for the last time. Baptism according to scripture…full emersion.

But this change also proved damaging to my walk as a Christian. While the music and worship is great at Saddleback…the Biblical teaching is watered down to make the Sunday worship service enticing to non-believers. Indeed an unbeliever could attend that church and feel fine…and not fall under the conviction of the Holy Spirit, not acknowledge that they are a sinner on the way to hell and in need of a Savior.

The holiness and righteousness of God was lost in the translation for me. Instead of a regular diet of God’s word…I was given a weekly message that made me feel good. I now have a deep abiding passion for the word of God…like never before…and a distain for churches that water down the gospel. Yet…I blame only myself for my fall.

I like Paul can say with assurance…that nothing good lives in me.

17As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. 18I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. 19For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. – Romans 7:17-19

During this time…I knowingly chose to step into a relationship with a guy who is a severe alcoholic. You see I was desperate to be married…and wasn’t too keen on God’s plan for me that said wait or no to marriage. So like Abraham I decided to help God out and take some action of my own. By golly this guy was in deep need of help…and I was ready to step right in.

Like Abraham’s choice to disobey God…my choice proved to be a bad one. The hurt, pain and scars of this relationship…went very deep. But I thank God, He did not leave me there. Instead He brought Nadine into my life. Nadine…would introduce me to Bible Study Fellowship.

I’m not sure how many times Nadine asked me to attend BSF. But my “no’s” did not deter her from asking again. Praise God!

In 1998, I started attending Bible Study Fellowship. Intimidating and overwhelming to a person relatively new to an in-depth Bible Study. But oh my goodness…it transformed my life. That transformation…combined with some awesome Bible teaching from a Pastor whom I would soon meet has given me a deep abiding passion and love for the word of God.

I’ve been in Bible Study Fellowship since 1998…but did drop out for a little over a year. During the Albertson’s strike…I was working a crazy amount of hours…and stopped just as the study of Israel and the Minor Prophets was getting underway. It would be about a year before I realized the deep hole that was there since I had stopped BSF.

I am crazy about Bible Study Fellowship. Each year I’m in the class…even if it’s a study I’ve done before I grow and get something new out of it. It’s wonderful bonding with the other women in our group during the school year. This year…we will be studying Romans. I would encourage you to go online…and sign up. You will not regret it.

The Bible Study Fellowship class I attend is at Calvary Church Santa Ana. One evening the Pastor David Mitchell came to briefly address the class. Through the Bible teaching of BSF I came to realize that I needed to get rooted and grounded in a church that uncompromisingly taught the word of God. So I made the leap from Saddleback Church to Calvary Church Santa Ana…a change I will never regret.

That first Sunday…I went to just the first service…but got info on the many Bible studies that took place each Sunday. The next week…I decided to attend one of the studies that took place at Calvary…it was called Kindred Fellowship. God used this Bible Study to make another profound change and leap in my faith.

The guy who taught this Bible Study was excited and passionate about the Word of God. He gave it to you in a straight forward, no nonsense kick-butt kind of way. I loved it…and loved Chuck Obremski…from the first time I heard him preach. I thank God daily for bringing Chuck and the people who would become my church family into my life.

Chuck was just crazy enough to feel sorry for the poor slug who would rather go golfing on Sunday instead of going to church and studying God’s word. That passion and the excellent Bible teaching was infectious…and grew my love for God and His precious, holy word…even deeper.

Well Kindred’s Bible Study…continued to grow…and soon we ventured out to start our own church Kindred Community Church. God had His hand on our Pastor and on our church. We studied the Bible in depth each week…a wonderful process that has given me a love a passion for the word of God. We spent about 70 weeks studying the book of Luke.

During this time…my beloved Pastor Chuck Obremski was diagnosed with cancer. At first it seemed unimaginable that it would be part of God’s plan to take Chuck home while all this great Bible teaching was going on. We were growing closer and more tightly knit as congregation and learning to trust and depend on God, not our circumstances.

Well God’s plan varied from our own…and indeed it was His will to call home His faithful servant Chuck Obremski on September 18, 2005. But our God is faithful…and He has remained with us. We as a church…and as individuals have a passion for God’s word…and love sharing that word with a needy, hurting sinful world. When you run into a person who attends Kindred…don’t be surprised if they take out a CD, hand it to you with the admonition that you really need to listen to this one. Of course they will be ready to hand you more at a moment’s notice.

I can thank God alone that I am one of those people who have a passion for handing out the word of God to people whom I encounter.

I know first hand the power of God’s word in my own life, in the life of our church…and in the life of my beloved Pastor who finished well and finished strong. He heard those words that I long to hear when I meet Jesus Christ face to face, “Well done good and faithful servant.”

So that’s my story and my testimony on how I came to know Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. How God poured out His grace and mercy upon His servant. God who loved me and chose me before the foundation of the world. God who is faithful when I am faithless. God who sent His Holy Spirit to dwell within me to lead me guide me and direct me. Jesus Christ who sits at the right hand of the Father…who is preparing a place for me and intercedes for me daily. Jesus who will one day welcome me home.

Well…that’s my story. Now I’d love to hear yours. Please click on the comments icon or e-mail me your story of salvation and God’s work in your life…and I’ll post it.

May the new website “The Grace & Mercy of the Lord” be one that brings honor, glory and praise to our God. May we be keenly aware and ever mindful of the presence of God in our lives.

Lord bless…and I look forward to hearing from each of you.