Saturday, February 6, 2016

Saturday Soliloquy 36: Didn't Know I Had Boobs

I was in a school in Newport News, I think... in 6th grade. It was during PE class that I learned I was developing breasts in a most unpleasant way.
A boy, a peer of mine, told me that my shirt was see through and I should be wearing a training bra to cover my saggy boobies. I was mortified! I had no idea that I had boobies AND no idea what a training bra was. I'm not sure what I said to him.
I honestly cannot remember whether I told my Mom about this interaction or not. I think I must have, because I think it was very soon after it that I ended up wearing a training bra... much to my discomfort and embarrassment.
This experience is a blessing, though, I think. Among a few others, it has given me a burning desire to inculcate in my girls a pleasure in the process of puberty and pride in their bodies... not a bad pride, but more like a joy in being female. It also has informed my attention to the changes my girls are experiencing because I want to make sure they are prepared far ahead of changes, rather than having to deal with mean-hearted and stinging comments from others noticing what I miss. I'm sure it'll happen... just hopefully not about boobies and bras!

Saturday, January 30, 2016

Saturday Soliloquy 35: Built on The Rock


Pretty recently (as of August 15, 2015, it was recent), in a communication with a cousin with whom I have only rarely seen or spoken, I was shocked to realize his position on something pretty important. It pertained to the Supreme Court ruling regarding homosexual unions (the SC ruled that homosexuals could be "married").
My cousin told me that he had thought homosexual unions shouldn't be called marriage up until the Supreme Court ruling. Here's the kicker. He told me that he had changed his mind because (and this is a near quotation of his exact words), "Those are some really smart people. And if they say that homosexuals should be able to get married, then I just need to change my mind about it."
Before that moment, I'd not encountered anyone who so directly stated their adherence to the philosophies of men... who was so completely built upon the sand, as it were.
This interaction helped me see even more clearly the necessity of being built upon The Rock. For HE is unwavering amid the storms of this world. He is unchanging and solid and true. His position will not change based upon the whiles and wishes of human beings. I am grateful for my foundation, Jesus Christ. I am confident that I will only ever have to change my mind to increase my alignment with His unchanging principles.
Indeed, I have changed my perspective on many things. I stopped wearing an earring (top of my left ear) because I was convicted by the Spirit that the Prophet's word was true and right. As I have grown closer to righteousness, I have changed my position on the gay rights' movement, abortion, earrings... and basically everything else of any import. THAT is how God works in people. Changing them one principle... one issue at a time, until they are fully aligned with and in Him.

Saturday, January 23, 2016

Saturday Soliloquy 34: A Couple Negative Interactions Between Me and a Parent

*For the next few weeks the stories may seem random.  But they are from my life and that's rather the point of the whole series.  You have the upper hand now, you know... if you read my blog and especially these Saturday Soliloquy posts... you have the ability to potentially know me better than some of the folks that interact with me in real life.  And far better than I know you.  Drop me a line.  I'd enjoy hearing about you, too.

The Story for Today:
In the family in which I grew up in, there were lots of fights between my parents. And lots of fights among my siblings and me. And lots of fights between me and my Dad. And lots of fights between me and my Mom.
I have come to believe that much, if not most of this, springs from the generational curses of: a belief of lack, and a belief of worthlessness. This understanding does not excuse the fighting and cruelties... however it helps me feel peace to have a small understanding of how much more all of these experiences have to do with than just me and those with whom they occurred.
As I was becoming a young woman, I felt very much pitted against both of my parents. I don't fully understand this, to be completely honest. But I didn't agree with them all the time and I wouldn't back down from my position until I felt like they understood me. And since they almost never conveyed understanding, I kept fighting for my position... really, my right to be heard. Ria and Kat are beginning to do this. Even Tea. I hope I may change our dynamic so that you will not have to perpetuate this wrongness any longer. I pray I will succeed! (Feb. 13, 2014)
I cannot remember what the fight was about... in any case, really. I remember the results, though. Once time, my Dad grounded me from watching TV and playing with my babie dolls for the whole summer. The dolls went into the attic and I never really took them up once they came out. The TV... well, I still watched it. My Mom let me. I just had to sneak when my Dad was home.
That is an instance of my parents. My whole life it was like they were playing for opposing teams. I believe, in large part (now), that this was a result of my Mom's thoughts and feelings more than my Dad's. More subconscious than conscious, also. My Mom sets herself in competition with many people and often... without meaning to, I know, yet she still does it.
She has even done it with me... once, very soon after I realize how many children I was meant to provide bodies, I told her and she responded with something like: Yeah. I guess you figure since I could do six, you can do more, right? And her tone of voice was really nasty and mean. I was just shocked. I mean, I'd heard that same sort of thing come out of her mouth at my Dad, but not in that same way to me.
Also, my Dad told me, when I lived in thier home with my 4 children (preggie with EmJ) that he constantly felt like he was in competition with my Mom for spirituality... and he didn't know why. He didn't WANT to feel that way, he just did. I honestly believe he was feeling her reality, not his own desire.
There was another time that my Mom and I had a really negative interaction when I was pretty young... maybe 10... or 11? I ended up crying in my bed (top bunk), and she came in a pulled me out of it by my hair! Yes, by my hair. She called my Dad and he came home from work in the middle of the day. He was so very angry. Like I was the only one at fault... in reality, I think he should've been more angry with her because she wasn't acting like an adult, but definitely expecting me to NOT act like a child. ahwell
Perhaps, if you can remember a negative interaction between you and I, my child, perhaps it's something similarly unacceptable on my part.... perhaps knowing this interaction between my Mom and me, and the truly ridiculous and extreme punishment my Dad assigned... maybe this peek into my childhood will help you understand that I have not fallen far from my parent "trees". I sure am working hard to roll into newness through Christ. I really am. I'm nowhere near as far as I wanted to be by now, but I am still diligently striving. Please forgive me for the wrongs I have done you. Learn from me... be better than me. You ARE better than me... BE and DO better than me!

Saturday, January 16, 2016

Saturday Soliloquy 33: I am

I am... Tori.  So many desires burn in me.  Mostly, a desire to fulfill God's plan for me.  And how does one know how... or even how to find out what we're supposed to do?

Surely the best way is through prayer.  At times, though, the press of the world makes spiritual knowledge feel so... unsure.  When I've found myself in times like that, taking one step at a time is the only way to do what needs to be done.

I've learned a lot about myself as I've taken one step at a time.  Often stepping into what seemed to me to be complete darkness... emptiness.  And then, just as I imagine I'm going to fall into a chasm, my foot falls on something solid and I've made another step in the right direction.  Many times I've thought I was doing the wrong thing.  And I definitely have made my share of mistakes!  But since I turned my life over to God, even when I wasn't sure if I was stepping right, He has turned it for good.  Praise the Lord for that!

One thing I've learned in the last few months is that I am definitely a creator!  I love to make things.... create!

Preggie with our sixth baby... definitely creating!

Writing... um, yeah!  I'm a writer!  My Mom has known it for decades.  I definitely own it now.  I am a writer!

A painter.  I love to paint!  Mostly what I do is simplistic and abstract.  Definitely not the kind of gallery work I admire and wish I could emulate.  But I feel so satisfied with what I do create... I love painting!

Fiber arts... in particular crocheting for me.  It's just amazing to watch a string turn into a thing!

Clay... I love to make recognizable forms from balls or squares of stuff.

I am a creator.

Saturday, January 9, 2016

Saturday Soliloquy #32 (I think): Lover's Lane, Dallas

Without fail, when I depart from the Temple, I feel full of love and desire to be with and hug my family.  Thankfully, I usually have my family with me when I go into the Temple.

As an aside, but related to this little tale, my children have been very keen to see my husband and me hold hands and/or kiss (especially on the lips).  They have called out, at times, things like, "Hold her hand, Daddy."  Or even, "Kiss her.  Kiss her on the lips!"  It was funny the first few times, but got old fast.

Driving to the Temple in Dallas, TX, we see the exit for Lover's Lane.  My children often point it out.  Tea, especially, would be likely to say something like, "Lover's Lane... ooooh, so romaaaantic!"

Leaving the Temple in June, I saw the exit sign just as I'd seen it on our way to the Temple a few hours before... just as I'd seen it twice every time we go.  This time, though, I decided to take it.  Since I was driving, I did.

The van was alive with a ruckus of questions about why I was doing what I was doing.  I didn't answer with anything that satisfied the children's curiosity.

I found a church with a parking lot near the Lane and parked our van so the children would be able to see why I'd taken the exit.

Jessie and I walked, holding hands (oooohhh, soooo rOMantIC) to a place in front of the sign so we could take a picture there.  That's all I wanted to do.

I'm not one for spontaneity, as a general rule.  I just had a feeling for fun and sweetness and went for it.  It turned out to satisfy both.  Yeay!

Interestingly, Jessie kissed me.  On the lips, even.  The children were about to need some smelling salts, I tell ya!

Good times.

Thursday, December 31, 2015

Last for the Van Living Series

Five children and two adults in a full-sized Chevy seven-seater van.  It was pretty stressful.  The greatest concern was probably our awareness of others' and the climate of decreasing parental rights in this country.  We were very mindful of everything.  Hyper-vigilant is definitely an appropriate way to describe that time.

I started to lose my hair big time.  It was so super thin on top that I could see my scalp readily when I parted my hair in the middle (so I didn't) and I had a bald-spot at either side of my head where I could've had bangs except that there wasn't enough hair for them.  I'm relatively sure the combo of post-partum hormones and stress from our circumstances contributed to the hair loss.

Jessie wasn't sleeping well toward the end of our van living experience.

But it was good in lots of ways.  Being together was good.  The children were so happy to have us all together all the time.  After all the time Jessie was busy with cheffing... it was definitely a good change to them!  We emjoyed being able to pick up and go whenever and wherever.  No prep, load, and depart... just figure out a general idea of where and head in that direction... figuring out the details as we went.

One of the difficulties was how to spend down time... when you have a house, you just kind of hang out there when you don't have anything else you have to do.  But when you don't have a house... what do you do?  We spent time in libraries all over East Texas.  We stopped in shops to walk around.  We ate in restaurants (that was a big time consumer when we did it and that was an added benefit to that choice).  We spent time in various parks and at many playgrounds.  The children loved that, of course.

There was so much good in those three months.  Lots of difficult.  And, if I'm honest, maybe I have a tendency to focus on the negative so that's why that part of that time stands out in high relief in my mind.  There really was lots of good in it, too.

Thursday, December 24, 2015

Van Living

As I mentioned last time, EmJ and I slept on the rear seat-bed.  Jmy slept in his seat, tilted back, sometimes.  Other times he slept on blankets on the ground.  The way back was fixed up as a bed with lots of blankets.  Ria and sometimes Tea slept there.  I laid out another blanket pallet between the driver's seat and the first row of seats where Kat and sometimes Tea slept.  Jessie slept in the front seat leaned back.

He wouldn't consider sleeping anywhere else.  He was on hyper alter and very vigilant.

We hung blankets over the front windshield and from the driver's and passenger's windows.  The rest of the windows had pull-down shades and some of the side windows also had curtains.  Those were really helpful!

Because we were all over East Texas looking for our land, we couldn't leave all our stuff with the trailer in Tyler.  We used that to store much stuff, but we kept a couple changes of clothes for each of us in the van.

Also, we had to keep food and a way to prepare it... so we purchased a huge cooler and used the smaller one that we already had as a dry-goods pantry.  We also purchased a coleman-type stove.  We did eat in restaurants, but not every meal or every day.

When Jessie searched for a place for us to van camp, he was always very mindful that he must unload the ice chests so that the way back area could be used as someone's bed.  I think that was one of the most stressful aspects of his almost nightly effort.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

Our Move: Van Living

We left Florida and had a few neat experiences.

It was part of our plan from the beginning that we would do our very best to save all the money we "made" on the sale of the house for the purchase of our new place in Texas.  One way we planned to save money was by living out of our van during the move and subsequent search for our place.  Some folks believed it would take us a long time to find what we were looking for... but I knew with a sure 'knowing' that we would find it very quickly and since we were buying with cash, we'd move onto our land more quickly than anyone could imagine.

As it happened, I was completely correct.  Yet, even though we found our land super fast and closed unbelievably quickly, we still ended up living in our van for almost three months.  Thankfully the van's rear seat reclined into a bed of sorts...  It was big enough for me and the baby, EmJ, at least.  I'll tell you the rest of the story of how we slept next time.

We did it for almost three months.  It was probably the worst best experience of my life.  You know those, right?  The really bad experiences that teach you so much that you have to qualify them as good in some way, shape, or form.

Next post about van living.

Thursday, December 10, 2015

More About Hair

Hair is helpful yall!

For one... regardless of how "advanced" we are... long hair tends to be a differentiating marker for females.  Short (especially clipper-guard short) for guys.

It helps you stay warm.  I've taken to wearing a hat to bed... at least until I'm warm enough to deal with not wearing it.

Cushion.  Have you ever considered how many times we knock our heads?  Hair is a nice bit of protection from those knocks and bumps.

Sensory overload.  I've experienced greater issues with sensory difficulties since I shaved my head.  Strange?  I'm not sure.  It seems like I'm not able to process information from my environment as well.  I feel like I'm overloaded much of the time and just want to hibernate!

Did I mention the warmth factor?  Yeah... given that it's turning winter around here and I'm still more Florida acclimated... hair was really helpful!

Feeling pretty... or, at least... feminine.  I'm not a beauty.  I know it.  I don't wear makeup because I choose not to afford the products I would be willing to wear (not stuff from the drug store, that's for sure!).  I don't really wear jewelry.  So my long hair was really my only adornment... and I didn't style it all up or anything.  It was just there.  Usually in a bun on top of my head.

Anyway... I was looking in a window (in lieu of a mirror) while I shaved my head and I realized to a lesser degree (than when I saw myself in a real mirror) how rough I was going to look and I started crying and repeating a mantra that I need to say to myself much more often... "Hair doesn't make me pretty.  I am more than my hair.  I AM more than my body.  Beauty shines out from within.  I don't need hair to feel pretty."  *sigh*  It sure helps, though.

Be kind.  You never know what battles someone else is fighting.... or what troubles they are working through in heart, mind, or soul!

Thursday, December 3, 2015

Hair Revisted

Most pertinent is the fact that I still hold the same position as the last time I shared my thoughts on hair.  Actually, I think my experiences of late have only added to my belied that hair is helpful in innumerable ways.  Among them are things I have heard of, but not experienced to the degree I have recently.

Have you ever felt something coming for years?  Have you heard someone tell a story of their own life and felt like they were talking about something you would yet experience?  Have you ever felt as though you could see a path being laid out in front of you and you didn't want to walk it, but knew you would regardless of how much you may dislike it?

All of those experiences have visited me in various ways and for different experiences in my life.  I've felt them all come together concerning my choice just a bit more than a week ago to shave my head.  Number three guard.  My hair was long enough to hang past my bum, yall!  Number three guard.

I've been writing a LOT lately.  I promise this is pertinent to the hair thing... just give me a sec and you'll see.

I love writing and have gone through spurts of great productivity before... but nothing like this recent laying out of realities that are only real in my own head.  The characters have arisen from a dream in three parts the morning of October 15th, I think.  The overarching story has been developing in me since I was first preggie with Ria (my eldest who is almost twelve now!).

When I say I've been productively writing... I've had many ten-thousand word days since the end of October when I really started writing on the story.  Even a few twenty-thousand word days!  Thus far (and I haven't been able to write on it much since the discovery) I've compiled about three novels worth of words, assuming an average novel is sixty-thousand words long.   I realize I may not keep all of those words... but the scope of this story has always been epic... definitely series-type stuff.  Now with three novels already written... it's just coming to fruition.

So what does this have to do with shaving my head?  Okay... okay....

Well, Tuesday Novemeber 24th (and dang it I just realized I didn't call a brother to sing 'happy birthday' to him because of this upsetting "find"....) I found a louse.  Not just anywhere... but on me.  Well, really... in my hair.  I was shocked and upset.  Yet not.

I searched the heads of the three children home with me (two were out with Daddy) and found lice on each of them.  Dang it!  I knew, because we've done this dance before, that if the three I had with me housed lice, the other two surely did.  So... I felt the press of all the preparation... years of whispers and 'knowings'....

Two roads rose up in my mind's eye.  One involved my desperate effort to retain my tresses and the time requirement such an endeavor would mean.  I already knew the next ten days to two weeks would be full of conditioner treatments, picking lice from heads, ridiculous laundry washing, nit picking...  Oh, the torture!  And adding my own head into the mix would mean more time... and how would I pick through my own hair?  Honestly... that's just not likely to work out well.

The other option was cutting my hair.  And by cutting, I mean shaving.  I saw this as a way to reduce, at least, the conditioner treatment time consumed on myself (and money spent on said conditioner, which is no small consideration given our circumstances of late).  My hair was around three feet long... maybe more... so the amount of conditioner and plastic wrap necessary to deal with the darn bugs on me would be... well, ridiculous is an understatement.

So, I shaved my head.  Not as completely as I shaved my son, Jmy... I took his down to no-guard.  I used a three on me. 

Funny little guy!  I know he thought I looked weird.  Pretty sure he actually said that word to describe me.  And then, after I'd cut all his hair off he asked me at least three times, "Mama, do I look weird?"  Each time I stopped, looked at him, and considered.  When I answered I told him some version of, "You look like my handsome Jmy-boy with no hair.  Not weird.  Just my Jmy."  He was satisfied after the third query.

My husband didn't deal with the shock of seeing his shorn wife very well.  At least, not for my vanity.

One daughter (who was away with Daddy while Mama cut all her hair off) told me right off that she liked it and told me I was beautiful.  Kat.  My sweet exuberant Kat.

Tea, my seven-year old... well, she was WAY less tactful or encouraging, "Mama!  What did you DO?  You look wee-eird!  I mean, you seriously look WEIRD!"  Yeah... thanks kid.

I don't have many mirrors around our place.  Actually, most of them are on vehicles, honestly.  There's one in our house... medicine cabinet mirror.  Right now I'm really glad.  But it was a bit shocking to see myself for the first time in a real mirror.

You'd definitely know I'm related to my brothers and Dad right now!  Mannish.  Yes, definitely.  Tranny... probably could be mistaken as one.  I'm pretty sure I was stared down by a group of guys who thought I was a man dressing as a woman.  That's probably the worst reaction so far.

The second worst could be considered nice... or positive, but unfortunately not by me... It's the really nice way some gay girls treated me when previously they've never paid me any mind.  Butch.  Yes... I look butch.

Funniest of all... I realized only just recently that I'm turning forty in a couple weeks and now I look like I'm having a mid-life-crisis!  Good grief!

So... if you see a fat chick (preggie, too... but that's not altogether apparent since I'm fat) who looks mannish or butch... and she's got a bunch of kids... maybe she's not crazy or gay or tranny  ... maybe she just wanted to get back to her writing and had to take time off to deal with lice.




Saturday, July 4, 2015

Saturday Soliloquy #31: The Wedding

We decided on a masquerade ball for the theme of our wedding.  I remember the two of us talking about how most people wear masks in the various interactions through life.  I felt then that I didn't, but could definitely see how others did.  Jessie liked this idea very well and that's what we did.

Our wedding was on December 31, 2002 and we were able to book a room in which to hold it in a hotel on the oceanfront in Virginia Beach, Virginia.

We found a really accomplished cake decorator and ordered a fabulous cake that was also very symbolic of us and our life at that time.  It looked amazing and tasted more wonderful than words can describe!  But let me try to share some of it's amazing loveliness with you.  Each cake was a different flavor with a complimentary flavor filling in between the layers and an awesome buttercream topped by a tastey rolled fondant (most rolled fondant I'd had up to that point was horrible... peel-off-able!).  Each cake had a topper.  Both the flavors of the cakes and their toppers were symbolically relevant.  Unfortunately, I cannot locate my notes about the flavors right now.  The biggest cake was "our" cake.  The topper was a hand-sculped sugar mask rendition of Jessie's sun/moon tatoo.  The next smaller cake was "Jessie's" and had an awesome sugar crown for the topper.  I called him my 'king' at that time.  Next down in size (but higher in the display), was mine.  The topper was hand-scullpted sugar wings because Jessie used to call me his angel.  The smallest cake's topper, the one we saved for our first year anniversary, was a store-bought topper of a woman holding a man up in both her arms.  I painted them so that the man was in orange and the woman was in blue, just as Jessie and I were.  The cake maker was also a master stylist.  The table was stunning.  Folks from the murder/mystery dinner celebration came to see it very frequently.

Favors for weddings can be rather plain and unimaginative, at least, that was our impression at the time.  Because our wedding was meant to be a masquerade ball, we purchased various kinds of masks as our wedding favors.  They were very cool.  More than 10 years later we still have some!  Our children have enjoyed playing with many of them, which we imagined we would enjoy.  I think we may have enjoyed it even more than we imagined.

The night of our wedding we and our friends and family set everything up.  Then we began our party/reception.  We went to another room for our ceremony.  After exchanging vows, we went back to the party room and continued our reception including cutting our cake.  It was really quite fun!

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Hair

Pressing thoughts.  The kind you cannot push away too long.  Haunting until they are released.  And so it has been for me these last few months... and longer.

To hair or not to hair.  Or, perhaps, to rephrase in a way more socially understandable: to shave, or not to shave.  Those are the questions.

And what a tumult of thought and feeling has come into my little world as a result.  And so much insight and understanding of things I never questioned before.

You see, as long as I can remember, I had some sort of aversion to hair.  Not to the point of utter and complete disgust... but darn close.  And so, at around 10 (maybe younger?!), I shaved every part of my body that I could.  My legs?  I think so... not sure if I had time for them.  My arms?  Yep, that's where I started... I think, because I could see them most.  My belly?  My chest?  Yep.  And yes.  The funniest part... I was shocked when my Mom asked me if I had shaved!  I mean, how in the HECK did she know!??  I was sure she had special "Mom powers of knowing" before that, but it was just solidified by that question.

Now, 29 years later, I see so much that I couldn't even comprehend then.

I see that I was in complete rejection of a basic and instrinsic part of myself at a very young age because I saw my Mama rejecting the same in/of herself.  If she didn't like it on herself, it must surely be unacceptable/unwantable on me!

To question why she did what she did was not a tool in my skill set at such an age.

Partially in answer to the unknowable question (why did she do it?), I now see that my Mama was conditioned by a sick culture to reject this part of her womanhood and femininity.  How very sad, right?  I mean, who wouldn't want to be a woman!?!!?  (HA!  I love it, but I know lots don't... but that's a whole other post!)

Another unknowable question back then: why would a culture condition it's women to reject a part of the process of their maturation?  Of course, I didn't ask it.  Not then.

But I sure have in the last few years!

And then, the pieces of the puzzle that is the sickness in our country and world today began to come together for me.

One huge piece of that puzzle was when my Mom shared a prophecy with me.

She did not proclaim it a prophecy.  Indeed, she would never describe the things she foresees as such.  But all of us should be prophets with the gift of prophecy, if, indeed, we have faith in Christ.  Even as Moses said, basically: I would that all in Israel were prophets.

What prophecy did she share?

She told me that it would not be a great many years before the lawmakers in our country began the process of making pedophilia "just another sexual orientation".  When did she say such a thing?  About 10 years ago... maybe it was just 8... but it was a WHILE ago, yall.

And what's happening?  True, it's been 'only' a little here and there.  But that's how it starts.  That's how the movement to make (and this is also part of her prophecy) homosexuality, bisexuality, and transgenders socially acceptable and even "popular" began.  If you don't think it's popular, you are living in a place of denial... and I have a river to sell ya.

Seriously.

Are you wondering how I've gone from shaving (or hairing) to pedophilia?  If you wonder, I might question your discernment.  Surely it makes perfect sense if you are using your spiritual eyes.
Just in case I have any among those who have made it this far who do not see, but desire to:

We are the frog in the pot.  In MANY ways.  Humans, I mean.  But especially those of us here in this blessed (at least it once was and could be again if we would turn with one accord to our Father in Heaven and serve only Him) land called The United States of America... or whatever version you desire to reference it.  Those of us who are supposed to be benefited by The Constitution of said....

We are a frog in a pot.

The heat is sin.

The fire is temptation by the devil.

The water temp rises as a greater and greater number of people in this Nation choose sin (and making evil good and good evil).  And we begin to cook, sitting still, thinking we are comfy... without even knowing it because the temptations were so small in the beginning.  Until we are frozen in the state before death when our muscles are paralyzed because they are already cooked, but our brain is still alive...  thankfully, we are not an actual frog and we can remove the heat through repentance and return to God and His truths... as a Nation.  And that's the difficulty, isn't it?  But difficult things are accomplished with one person's choice to see as God sees.

God loves even those who trespass His laws.  He is ever ready to forgive the sinner and loves them even as they sin.  He does not turn away.

We, as a culture/Nation, have turned away from God.  I was among those.  In so many ways.  And because I know I have turned, I know we, as a Nation, are able to do so as well.  Forgiveness is REAL.  The Atonement our Savior performed is more real than this life with all it's experiences.  We are able to be forgiven and become new in Christ Jesus!

How have we turned away?  We have accepted sin as good.  Homosexuality is not a sin.  Acting on those natural tendencies IS.  Accepting that someone is homosexual does not mean condoning any choice to live out those impulses.  Loving someone who is homosexual does not preclude knowing the sin of acting on that nature.  Yet, our culture/world says it IS good to do wrong.  Even to the point, now, in this Nation, of our Supreme Court ruling against the majority of constituents in the Nation regarding marriage and how it pertains or does not pertain to those who are other than heterosexual.

God ordained marriage in the Garden of Eden when He gave Eve to Adam and commanded them to procreate and replenish the earth.  Man has been defiling the sanctity of marriage in any number of ways and many decreeing that "God said this was good because of ______".  Even prophets, both current and past, are human and make mistakes.  Period.  Accepting and acknowledging that does not reduce all else they did or said to worthlessness.  It just doesn't.  Someone can say something right and righteous and Godly and God inspired in the morning and make a total fool of himself (or herself) in the evening.  The evening's ridiculousness does not negate the morning's  near perfection (or vice versa).  It just makes said person human and  as such, just like the rest of us: perfectly fallible.

I couldn't see it plainly or clearly as my Mom did when she said it those years ago.  But I certainly see the fulfillment speeding upon us.  And the incremental turning up of the heat....

I could trace this descent from much greater righteousness to where were are now.  However, that would be far more work than I'm willing to invest (and thus take away from my family)... If you do it, let me know and I'll share thoughts!  I'd love to see what you come up with.

Because I see the hair issue as a truly integral and HUGE aspect of the cultural acceptance of pedophilia, I'm going to simply expound upon it... in case anyone who doesn't still see the connection is still reading and interested.

Dark hair arriving in special places is one of the indicators of oncoming manhood and/or womanhood.  It heralds a special and important change from childhood to adulthood and all the responsibility inherent therein (perhaps especially the ability and responsibility of parenthood).
Pedophilia rejects adults as desirable... of course.  That's the whole problem with it, right?
So, one of the fundamentally necessary notches on the temp gauge for the frog in the pot that is us is to make hair unwanted....  First among women... because we already accept on some fundamental level that we are sexual objects to the men we desire to love us (how sad, but it is true no matter how we reject it)... so the devil appeals to our desire to remain young and appealing...

I'm sure the first women to go hairless purposefully were in the limelight.  Held up by the media as THE look.  Mass hypnotism was probably implemented at least a little.

But we went willingly and fell into a trap we didn't recognize as such and willingly removed one of the indicators of our maturation, femininity, and womanhood.  We forsook our hair in many places through shaving or other forms of removal.  Just to be clear, I was definitely among those who fell into this trap.

And now the movement is among our men.  Men who are hairy are seen as unkempt... or somehow gross.  Many men (at least among those I used to speak about these things with) WANT to be seen as sexual objects (no wonder they DO it... thinking in terms of the 5 Love Languages....), so of course they want to either shave completely or trim it up so as to be able to be desireable.

Moving the heat up.  Frogs in the pot.

Do you see what I see?

As a result of all this, I will share that I have chosen hair.  Interesting?  I don't know... I don't think so.  Honestly, I think it's the only choice for anyone who truly understands what I've come to know.  I think it's the "right thing to do" for those who desire to honor the gift these bodies are.  Both male and female.

"What?  You mean, let hair grow... down there... with no shaving, trimming, or otherwise?"  And I would return, "Yes.  Anywhere there is hair that grows naturally, let it grow.  Let it grow!  Don't hold it back any more!"  hahaha

Seriously, though.

I admit I still pluck the hairs from my chinny chin chinS... and I don't know that I will stop that any time soon.  I also pluck my eyebrows... a little.  I'm struggling with those hair removal efforts... and the inherent public disappoval inherent it letting THAT go!  *sigh*  I am not free of caring what others' think!  As much as I wish I were truly free....

Lest someone mistake me:

I am now, only better than I was before.  I am merely equal to or less than others in every regard.  Yet, I know God loves me just as He Loves you and everyone else.  I am so late to this change....

I see how this whole hair thing could become a sort of Pharasaical-type issue.  Let it not be so.  If anyone among us choose to grow our hair (anywhere and/or everywhere), let us do it because of our own desire to change.  To grow in self acceptance... because I can tell you, from my own experience, it has opened an awesome flood-gate of self-acceptance!!  And what a huge and awesome gift THAT is!!!

To draw nearer to God is the greatest gift... And I believe that as we accept every part of the gift He has given us in these tabernacles of clay, we grow to know Him more clearly and dearly. 

As a last note, and something I've learned by experience of having hair: there are little things that hair help with... skin sensitivity only one among them.  Maybe you won't keep it forever.  Maybe I won't.  It's good to try new things.

Thursday, December 25, 2014

The Gift

To my dear Savior,
at this time of year,
the very best and only real gift I can give
is to choose each and every day to fully live
focused on them and their way for me
to work really hard and begin to see
how to fill myself with Their loving bright light
and shine it forth into the world so dark as to be like  night.

How do I fill myself full of his light and love, I wonder?
It's simple to follow His command yet simple doesn't mean easy, I've learned as a I blunder.
Simple to read His word each day
and pray in a whole-hearted child-like way.
Simple to hear His Will and, His Word, obey.
As I leave my Will upon the alter each and every day.
It flutters about and years to fly like a bird
Not content to obey His Word.
I recognize this for what it is, for sure:
the natural man a constant temptation and lure.

Each day I must remember my covenants through prayer
and study the scriptures like it's some kind of dare.
Focusing my mind, heart, and soul on Him,
otherwise my commitment will grow dim.
And this gift of me is worth very little
if I don't mind every jot and tittle.
For Christ has shown me the way
and though I will not arrive today
My agency combined with consistent efforts toward who He would have me be
are the only gifts precious enough for the One who is Three.

Once I'm able to collect some of His bright and loving Light,
How do I shine it forth into this world so dark as night!?
Could it be a smile?
Shared with everyone within a mile...
Could I help another?
For each and every one is my brother.
Might I step out of my comfort zone?
And help someone find Him who did Atone!
Yes, all that and so much more
the options are like a door...
You open one and there's always another
God's Love is even more perfect than that from our Mother.

He desires the gift of ourselves.
And as we give, He doesn't put it on some shelves.
He teaches us how to more and more perfectly give
how to more and more fully live.
For His work and His Glory
Are the real purpose of our life's story.

December 5, 2014

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

My Dad... a poem

I love my Dad.
I used to think he was bad.
Not a good Father...
just a big bother.

But then I came to understand
that he was doing his best with the band
constricting and binding his mind, heart, spirit and hand...
and he didn't know to demand
that it release and submit, the whole strand.

I can see the bonds and yet they remain.
My hands bound and upon them a stain.
I see what he could not, yet I did, him, blame.
One cannot put out a fire if onecannot perceive the flame.
Yet I see and know the heat and it still burns as my shame.
My efforts puny to end the curse and break the chain.

Formed over generations the curses were made.
A debt in heart, mind, body and spirit laid.
I could never be enough to get this debt paid.
And I lack understanding of how to access the cooling shade
of our perfect provider and Savior who bade
consume of Him for all debts have been prepaid.
Yet still I struggle to cut loose with a dull blade.

My Savior has already done the work
through the Atonement, it's a huge perk
of being human, the gift was given if I will not shirk,
to accept it fully and no longer lurk
in the shadows of believing myself to be a jerk.
The weight of generations is enough to make anyone berserk.
Yet I hold on to past sin, pain, and other merk...
Rather than release it to God and let Him do his work.

Show me how.
To release the curses past and my sin of now.
I would be a new me, If I did I'd vow
to become new with a sprinkle of fairy dust and a magical POW.
But that's silliness, I know, holy cow!
I just want to be new, Father.  It's been here all the while.  Wow!
Please, Lord, before Thee, I bow.

December 5, 2014

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Wanting... a poem

Have you ever wanted
to be other than you are?
Another y me
than the one you see?

I have.
Oh! I have.

The Mother I've been
is not the one I'd be.
Using my emotions as the tool
with which I control and rule.

I'd rather be
other than me.

The woman I've been
is not the one I'd be.
Only moving from now to then
Not fully understanding the far-off when.

I must become
who I have never been.

The wife I've been
is not the one I'd be.
I must learn how to love
with God, who is love, up above.

I will yet be
who I've not yet been.

December 5, 2014

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