Photos from Cali

From the highest point in LA, the Griffith Observatory.

LA from the Griffith Observatory

LA - a neighborhood near Venice Beach.

M had to take a photo of us during a sunset. That's Marina del Rey in the background.

We rode around Venice beach. Very nice.

A canal that runs through a neighborhood near Venice Beach...I imagine this is how Heaven looks...

I did manage to go to mass during our holiday. This is the outside of the Church of Visitation, near the LAX airport.

Those adorable Elephant seals! Lazies.

Off the PCH.

Quaint restaurant off the PCH.

View from the porch of the quaint restaurant.

This is how flowers grow along the highway of the PC.

Redwoods!

Just another shot off of the PCH.

This is the Bixby Bridge, built in 1932 and still used. Hey Bushy! : )

Doesn't really need a caption, right? ; )

Downtown SF from the GGB.

The other side of the GGB. Hey guys! :)

Yes, this is that Pier.

Look at the size of that shell! I couldn't resist. This was a shop along the Pier.

Alcatraz

Just a fun billboard along the Pier.

A restaurant along the Pier.

Chocolate lovers dream paradise.

Just a lil treat I had. YUMMY

A Chagall.

Second Chagall.

This is Chagall's version of Moses receiving the Ten Commandments. Chagall had many pieces on the Exodus from the bible. This was a God wink to me, as the readings for the week were about the Exodus. : )

A whimsical Miro.

SF random statue.

Back to Hollywood. This is Journey's star.

The handsome Keanu Reeves home.

"I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world." Mother Theresa

California Dreamin'

Hello friends,
Heavenly Father, we really need some peace in our world! Too many shootings, drug overdoses, and general mayhem. Please continue to help us 'fight the good fight'. In Jesus' Name. Amen.
Some observations about Cali:
Los Angeles, specifically~
*I know I've posted about this on FB, but I've got to mention it again: it is LEGAL for motorcycles to drive in-between traffic - on the highway, and city streets. This just seems so crazy to me!
*It is always around 72 degrees. This can be 'Heaven or it can be Hell,' if you think about it.
*There is always traffic. Yes, no matter what time of day. Always.
*The city is dirty. Dirtier, I think, than even NYC. (Ok, maybe I felt this way b/c of the whole 'Hollywood' thing - beautiful fake people and I don't get along.)
*People are Really laid-back. Good and bad. I noticed the bad when we were driving around and peds didn't hurry to cross the street, never mind the pile of cars gathering behind yours. I noticed the Good when I was flustered with my change and 'discussing' things with Carlton. The guy behind the counter wasn't irritated in the least. I thought that was cool.
*The food is tasty.
*Abbot Kinney blvd. Great coffee shop to people watch and enjoy a scrumptious "Sun-rise" smoothie.
*Everybody lives here: homeless, punks, guys with collars turned up...
*Keanu Reeves lives here. Most excellent.
*The ocean is cold.
*Pinks. Delish dogs.
*When purchasing groceries, be prepared to pay for either paper or plastic; or, like we're all supposed to be doing anyway, have your own bags with you.
Driving to San Fran, via the PCH (Pacific Coast Highway)~
*This hwy should be on every one's bucket list. Seriously. It's that gorgeous. Beware though: the roads are winding and can cause nausea. But, as with anything worth pursuing, you tough it out bc the view is worth it.
*Redwood trees! Oh my! Have to be seen to be believed. It was like meeting up with old friends again.
*The Coast waves at you -pun intended- daring you to dive into it's fascinating, cold, waters. Don't do it! Those cliffs are dangerous! Just be happy looking and taking many, many photos.
*Hike! Lots of peeps have been there before you and the trails are well-worn. Or, be adventuresome, and make your own trail! Either way, the woods are inviting.
*Colorful birds. Unlike the black scavenger birds we have in Tx, PCH birds are black and blue. Black body, but with a bright blue comb. Pretty.
*Elephant seals. There is a fenced area around them, but the photos will look like you are right beside them. The ES' were too funny: using their huge fins to scratch themselves, and to lazily throw sand on their back. A joy to watch.
San Fran~
*San Francisco is a wonderful place. The area is all 'scrunched up,' but somehow this gives the place a 'homey' feel, and not one of claustrophobia.
*You can call San Francisco "San Pancho," as my childhood buddy, Andy does.
*Golden Gate Bridge
*Pier 39
*Ghiraridelli's. Chocolate lovers dream!
*Open viewing of materpieces by Picasso, Chagall, and Miro, along the boardwalk of Pier 39. I think it was more like a shop for serious art collectors, as I was able to take photos of the paintings without being told to stop. >click, click, click<
*Andy contacted an old high school buddy, J, that lives in the heart of San Fran, so we could hang out with him. J's apt is way cool: you walk up three flights of stairs to his place. Once inside his place, you walk down a long hallway; on the right side is a wall, and on the left side is J's bedroom and other rooms. Apparently the bathroom toilet is the original toilet made by John Harrington, as Carlton attested to when he saw it. I didn't see it, but J said you could flush a bowling ball down that 'john'! LOL
*Toll to SF is $5.00; there is no such thing as a 'toll tag,' which means you have to wade through the cars, BUT you don't have to pay a toll leaving SF.
*Also, the bridge we entered SF on, not the GG, but another one (don't know the name, sorry), actually has TWO bridges: one on the top, to be able to take in the beauty of SF; and then one on the bottom, for when you are leaving San Fran. Cool idea.
*It must have been at least 50 degrees that night we were in SF. My sweater was not enough to keep me warm (I hate the cold). It was very strange to be cold in July.
I'm posting photos, but on a separate blog. This one is way too long already! :) Thanks for reading!

"I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world." Mother Theresa

FTM's Acoustic set, aka the Real CD release party, Saturday night

Hello friends,
      May God be with you, day in and day out, and may you always be aware of His presence. He's there. In Jesus' name. Amen.
I tease Carlton about his choice of local bands sometimes, I admit it. Especially when he incessantly goes on and on about a band; I get tired of his hype, and decide to judge for myself. Before the gig I'll ask him, "So you think this dog will hunt?" and he normally answers in the affirmative, but tentatively will say, "I don't know if you'll like them as much as I do, but yes, I think they're good."
Often times, he's usually right.
This was the case with the band Fair to Midland.
I can't remember the first time I saw them in concert, but I know I've kept up with them for at least the last year.
I do remember the first place I saw them, which was at the Granada. When I laid eyes on Darroh my thought was "Who IS this nut?" He has charisma, passion, and charm. He just explodes on stage. He dances around so much I hope he can make it rain. At one point in the performance he sat down on the stage and seemed to just be chillin' with the rest of us at the gig. The audience loved it and was singing along with him.
I've seen them several times since the Granada, usually at Trees in Deep Ellum, and savor the energy of their playing. You can tell they are a tight group: everyone enjoying themselves and playing the Hell out of their instruments.
Carlton introduced himself to Cliff, the lead guitartist, at one of the shows, and ever since that introduction, when Cliff sees us before a gig, he always comes over and says hello. Muy amable. Cliff is a very kind soul, and he has a singular appearance, too: his fuzzy, out of control, crazy-curled hair. It looks like it would be coarse, but it's not; it's as soft as feathers. Yes, I've touched it. :D
Last Friday night I happened to look at my phone, and since I'm a fan on their FB page, I get all their updates. This update said FTM was doing an acoustic set at a city about 45 min from where we live. I immediately texted Carlton and we were happily en route Saturday night.
This show was an absolute treat! Again, Cliff saw us before they played and came over and  thanked us for coming to see them. The bar wasn't packed at the time, but when the time drew closer for FTM to play, there wasn't an open space in the house!
FTM doing their music acoustically. I felt like I was at an MTV unplugged version, waiting for a band like PJ, or possibly seeing Rik Emmet playing. Darroh was much more subdued for this gig; I say that, but I mean "subdued for Darroh," normal for the rest of us, and he often chided his mistakes, which were slight, if any. But from the moment the first notes of their song, "Musical chairs," came from Cliff's guitar, I could tell something magical was about to happen. The band did a brialliant set. They mixed old and new songs, and I was relishing their music on a whole new level. The band has matured and is building a unique sound for themselves.
Cliff had two beautiful acoustic guitars, which he played deftly. Jon, the bassist, was cleverly hidden from view, but the bass was unmistakeable, as was Brett's drumming, and Matt's keyboarding. For a couple of tunes it was only Cliff and Darroh; the two original members of the band. Old friends singing and playing together, and we were allowed to watch. Magnificent.
The actual release of their latest CD, "Arrows and Anchors," is scheduled for Tuesday, July 12, but Carlton and I agreed: we were at the Real release party.
Fair to Midland "Musical chairs"

"I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world." Mother Theresa

Traveling Angels

Hello friends,
      May you always feel God close to you, when you're happy and when you're sad, because He is as close to you as the heart beating in your chest. Trust Him in all matters. In Jesus' Name. Amen.
When my car was broken in to and my phone was the only thing, PTL, that was stolen, I thought of this story.
Two traveling angels stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family. The family was rude and refused to let the angels stay in the mansion's guest room.
Instead the angels were given a small space in the cold basement. As they made their bed on the hard floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it. When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied, "Things aren't always what they seem."
The next night the pair came to rest at the house of a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife. After sharing what little food they had, the couple let the angels sleep in their bed where they could have a good night's rest.
When the sun came up the next morning, the angels found the farmer and his wife in tears. Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole income, lay dead in the field. The younger angel was infuriated and asked the older angel, "How could you have let this happen?
"The first man had everything, yet you helped him," she accused. "The second family had little but was willing to share everything, and you let the cow die."
"Things aren't always what they seem," the older angel replied. "When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed the wall so he wouldn't find it. Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I gave him the cow instead. Things aren't always what they seem."
Sometimes that is exactly what happens when things don't turn out the way they should. If you have faith, you just need to trust that every out come is always to your advantage. You just might not know it until some time later.

God bless you, always!

"I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world." Mother Theresa

Atmosphere, of the heart

Hello friends!
Heavenly Father, you gave us Your Word in the bible and just like the Centurion in the gospel today said, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed." My faith in You is strong, and I know that You touch everyone, pagan and believer alike, and that You are in all things, with Your Holiness, Your Love, and Your Peace. Thank You for Your many blessings, In Jesus' Name. Amen.
As soon as I realize I can't handle the stress in my life, I laugh, and think to myself, "I'm not supposed to handle the stress in my life, God is supposed to be handling my stress." And I promptly hand over my worries to Him.
As Saint Paul once said, "It is in my weakness that I am strong." Now I understand what he meant.
This is a wonderful song by TobyMac, formerly of DC Talk, and I find it comforting when things aren't going like I think they should be going. Even if you aren't in any kind of turmoil, may it bring you enjoyment.
"Atmosphere"
I know you keep a journal and every page is rippled
From the tears that you cry, ain't no meanin' to your scribble
Cause words can't describe what you've been feelin' inside
It's like thousand foot walls, and they're still on the rise
But look up to a beautiful sound
And see for yourself you're not that far down
And know this, I cannot love a little
My promise to you is unconditional
And I'll keep the light on for you,
Just keep the course, you can weather the storm
I'll keep the light on for you,
You've come this far, don't you ever lose heart, now
Just turn around and I'll be there
I'm moving into your atmosphere
Just turn around and I'll be there
I'm moving into your atmosphere
I know you're all alone in a crowd of your friends
I can see it in your eyes that your fadin' again
Checking out, moving into your hole
Where the light can't touch any part of your soul
But hold up and let the river rush in
You can turn around and start livin' again
Cause your life is a beautiful bloom
In the image of the one that created you
And I'll keep the light on for you,
Just keep the course, you can weather the storm
I'll keep the light on for you,
You've come this far, don't you ever lose heart, now
Just turn around and I'll be there
I'm moving into your atmosphere
Just turn around and I'll be there
I'm moving into your atmosphere
I'll be there
Said I'll be there, said I'll be there
Said I'll be there always, forever
Just turn around and I'll be there,
I said I'll be there always forever
I'm movin' into your atmosphere

"I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world." Mother Theresa

Father's day came early

Hello friends,
The Lord is blessing each and every eye reading this blog and providing for all of their needs: spiritual, physical, mental, and emotional. In Jesus' Name. Amen.
My family took a mini-vacay to the Galveston/Houston area, to visit my father's grave site in Houston, at the Veteran's Memorial Cemetery.
Since Carlton is off on Tr's, and the hotel in Houston was booked for Friday, I suggested a ride to Galveston b/c I absolutely adore the beach.
As I stood admiring the vastness of the ocean, I was reminded of my father. He loved the water just as much as me. While I was reminiscing, a man who looked like my father suddenly appeared in the water. The stranger startled me, but then, unexpectantly, I found comfort in his appearance. As he got closer to me, of course there was no resemblance, but that was okay. I understood the God wink.

We decided to visit dad's resting place on our way out of the city, Sunday afternoon.
The thought of visiting my father's tombstone at the end of the trip hung over me.
He died twenty years ago, at the age of fifty-three, when I was twenty-two. My father was the consummate 'bad boy,' really. Oddly enough, I consider myself more like my father than my mother; not that I'm a 'bad girl,' - far from it - but in his attitude about life and living. His excesses in drinking and smoking aside, I saw a man who was fond of his family and friends. He used to talk to my older cousins for hours; I was too young to understand what they talked about, but my cousins loved to be around my father, so I imagine the conversations were endearing.
I specifically remember one time when my cousin's bf came to pick her up for a date. The bf had stopped in front of the house and honked for my cousin to come outside. My father found this behavior deplorable. He walked to the car and said to the young man, "You need to park the car, go to the door, and walk her to your car."
He once told me to 'never forget where I come from,' and I haven't. But I like to think that my dad didn't just want me to remember the meek start I had in life; he wanted me to remember that money doesn't make a person happy. Family and friends, these are the places where happiness resides.
Miss you, dad. Thanks for teaching me important lessons in life.
Happy Father's day, family and friends. Thank you for being a part of my life.

"I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world." Mother Theresa

It's the Reve effect - sometimes this happens

Hello friends,
            Heavenly Father, this is a special prayer for all marriages everywhere, but esp for BD's. Let Your Will be done, Lord. Your Will. In Jesus' Name. Amen.
            A decade ago, I promised myself I’d visit a new city in the U.S. every year. So in 2001, mid-July, I was in New Orleans with my good friend Roger.  On our first evening in the city, Roger and I scanned the brochures we confiscated from a restaurant to see what entertainment N.O. was offering. 
            My eyes fell on “Haunted History Tours!” (HHT’s!).  

At nine o’clock, we joined a large crowd of people in front of a voo-doo shop. Two men were on a stage in front of the store. One of the men was rallying the crowd to take his HHT. He succeeded, as half the group left with him.

The other cajoling young man, who boldly told us his name was Reve, was dressed like French aristocracy, and somehow his shoulder-length brown hair complimented his attire. He was handsome; six feet tall, with high check bones and an angular face. Something about Reve’s demeanor, passion, and animation resonated with my own sense of adventure.

As we began the tour, I noticed Reve slowing his pace, as if he were going to make a comment to me, and glancing at me often.

I was mystified by him.

At the drinkery where the tour took a break, I didn’t have to look across the bar to know Reve was staring at me intently – his gaze carried heat.

“Oh! You all are friends!” Reve suddenly blurts out as he walks around the bar and joins Roger and me. Reve and I immediately fall into rather lively chatter about the tour, and N.O. in general.

After the tour, and after Roger has given Reve a tip, he informs me, “Reve is having a drink with us.”

“Oh?” I grin innocently.

We walk with Reve to a pirate-decorated hang-out. As Reve’s face flirtatiously floats dangerously close to mine, I wonder how Reve thinks this evening will end. I bet our stories don’t match.

Reve grabs my hand and pulls me into what appears to be a small prison cell, complete with bars, but no doors. He and I snugly sit next to each other, but as Reve leans in for a kiss, I move across from him. His left eyebrow arches.

I laugh at him light-heartedly.

At the end of the evening, Reve and I exchange phone numbers and promise to keep in touch.

It’s Fall before I see him again.

Roger returns with me to N.O., and Reve picks us up from the airport.

The wonderful rapport between Reve and I re-connects us easily.

Reve tells us that he doesn’t have the job with the HHT company anymore, and that he has been looking for work.

            Before we arrive at Reve’s house, he takes us on a four-wheeling escapade through a dirt parking lot. Pure exhilaration! We are all laughing as the truck jerks and shakes us through the rough motions of Reve’s handling.

            Reve’s house has two lamps light by fire on either side of the door. It gives the house a dreamy feel. Roger and I unpack.

            Reve makes us Jambalaya for lunch. His house is a wreck: an enormous amount of dishes are in the sink, and the kitchen is in general disarray. My heart is moved with compassion as I see evidence of depression in other corners of the house.

            Roger and I begin cleaning up the place for Reve, mostly focusing on the kitchen. Reve is in his room tidying up, and playing music while each of us cleans. At one point, when I’m approaching Reve’s room to ask him where a particular Tupperware container goes, I abruptly hear the first few notes of a song by my favorite band. When I reach Reve’s room, piqued with anticipation, he smiles broadly at me. I am pleased he remembered, from just a few conversations between us, that this is my preferred band.

            Roger and I want to go to the French Quarter for the evening, but this isn’t such a great idea to Reve.

            “Since leaving my job, I’d rather avoid some of the people down there.”

            Roger is okay going by himself to the FQ, while Reve and I go to a private party.

            Upon dropping Roger off, Reve declares, “I know why you brought Roger.”

            “Really, why?”

            “So that you and I don’t ‘do’ anything.” He smirks.

            Silence.

            “Hey, would you like to drive my truck?”

            “What?!...No.”

            Too late. Reve is already in an empty lot, out of the truck, and waiting beside the passenger’s side seat for me to get into the driver’s seat.

            Reve’s truck is a beast! It is an 80’s Ford Bronco, which is huge! I am fairly tall, but behind the wheel of this vehicle I felt like a gnome. Reve thoroughly enjoys my discomfort, but I determinedly handle the creature with grace and recklessness.

It’s time to pick Roger up from the FQ. Reve holds my hand as we drive downtown.

            Reve has Roger drive us home, and then he settles in next to me in the back seat. I nestle my head on Reve’s shoulder, and soon I am sleepily leaning on him; he wraps an arm around me.

            Back at Reve’s house, when we’re getting ready for bed, I inform Reve, “I saw a spare bedroom beside the kitchen; I’ll be sleeping there tonight.” Reve looks at me curiously. I leave the room, change into my pajamas, and climb into bed. Ten minutes later, I feel Reve crawl into bed with me. Thankfully, he is a complete gentleman, and we fall asleep fairly quickly.

            In the morning, Reve states, “I remembered the reason I don’t sleep in this room. This bed is awful!”

            At the airport the next morning, as Reve grabs my suitcase from the truck, I wrap myself tighter in my long, black cloak of a coat, pulling the hood over my head as tiny snowflakes begin to fall.

            Reve and I hug our good-byes.

            It was the last time I ever saw him.

"I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world." Mother Theresa

EOY - End of the School Year

Hello friends,
      May God bless each and every person reading this sentence! In Jesus' Name. Amen
For anyone who has ever wondered what a teacher feels and thinks at the end of the school year, here is a tiny, minuscule, peek into this particular elementary teacher's world:
I usually don't have time to reflect on the year until the week before the end of the school year and that's when I started this blog - a week ago.
My reminiscing begins with the first time I met the students.
A class of 21 students was being divided and on the afternoon I met my eleven students, they practically raced into the room, carrying their desks and things, flanked by their current teacher. They were wild-eyed, rowdy, and ready to play. Laughter and giggles filled the room. They noisily put their desks down, not really taking notice of me, but looking around the room. My initial response was to tell them to be quiet and sit down, but they were still with their former teacher, and I didn't want to override her authority. She spoke to them sharply, but they still didn't seem to calm down, and then they were gone. I felt like a few tornadoes had visited the room.
In that first week the students were with  me, I was stern, and didn't accept any kind of silliness from them. Poor things. They had looks of horror on their faces as they realized "nutty" classroom time was done.
The hard work began.
Two of my students, a boy, MK and a girl, PS, hated Math.
One of the students, a girl, GD, shut down when she was frustrated by anything, in addition to being a huge grouch in the mornings.
Three of  my boys, AS, MC, and HA, were highly immature and lazy.
Fortunately I had four girls, DP, RC, SB, DJ, and one boy, AE, who were bright, and only needed minimum guidance. They learned well by themselves, and this enabled me to work one-on-one with the harder to reach children.
Before Christmas break (yes, I said Christmas), one of my students, PS, moved to another school. Darn it too, she was just starting to work for me.
Except for the five that were independent learners, I kept the others in after school tutoring Mon, Tues, and Tr.; I was skeptical about how much the tutoring was helping...
Right around Spring Break, my boys began to have problems at recess: fighting. As a punishment, one received out of school suspension; the others had no recess for a week. Ugh. One of the boys, EA, was then transferred to another class.
I was down to nine students.
I started having lunch with my students: boys on one day, girls on another. We began to bond on a personal level. I found out about their home lives. Well, the girls talked about their home lives, the boys were obsessed with pirahnas, lol. Although, one boy, HA, would occassionaly ask me a question about me; he wanted to know what I did on the weekends, etc.
This small act, having lunch with the students, took care of the fighting at recess, in addition to making us all closer.
Okay, so they took the state exams.
Out of the nine, 7 passed the Reading exam. Two were commended. (100%)
Out of the nine, 8 passed the Math exam. Again, two were commended.
All in all, it was a mixed year, but a good one.
GD, the little girl who didn't like Math, who hardly ever turned in her homework, or kept up with any papers, gave me the following note on the next to the last day of school:
At the top was written, "G's information about summer."
"Ms. Bush, I will miss you very much. I was going to tell you what an adventure I'm going to have on summer. I am going to Mexico with my cousins, and my tia, then to my cousin's house. I will really miss you. I can't stay away from you, but I will still remember you, in my hart. it's like your an angle. I will really miss you. may god bless you.
Sincerely, G"
This made the year fantastic. (GD drew the following 'angle' on her note to me):

"I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world." Mother Theresa

Heart of the Matter

Hello friends,
       Lord, thank you for creating courageous men and women who risk their lives in the name of justice. In Jesus' name. Amen
      "Speak Lord, your servant is listening."
       This is what I pray before I read the daily scripture readings for the day. I'm glad I was listening today. I felt like I was Lydia, the woman in the first reading. (You'll need to read this passage to understand what I mean: Acts16:11-15.)
      Then, this morning at mass, Fr. Alfonse gives me the ultimate God-wink when he said, "In today's Acts of the Apostle's, Luke tells us a personal story about something that happened to him and the other disciples. It's important to write things down: the good, the bad, and the ugly." Thanks, God, for 'okaying' this message, lol. Love you!
(Prelude: Forgive me if this blog gives you whip lash, he he, because I am jumping from topic to topic; I am doing my best to make it coherent, but I also like to write from a stream of consciousness perspective too, so things may seem unrelated, but hopefully I can tie them together...)
      I am only the best person I can be "through Christ who strengthens me."
     "Forgiveness."
     As I think about what I want to say, and how to say it, one word from the Don Henley song, "Heart of the Matter," comes to mind.
       "Forgiveness."
        And in the bible, how often are you to forgive your brethren? "Seventy times seventy times."
       Then an image from the movie Thor yesterday leaps to mind, Thor's hammer flying through the air into Thor's hand. Thor's hammer came to him when Thor realized he needed to lay down his life for his friends. Thor was ready and willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. Notice, too, Thor couldn't retrieve the hammer, he had to earn it.

      We have to humble ourselves before our problems and let God work through us, with His hammer, to resolve them.
      Fr. Alfonse often mentions how great love comes with great sacrifice.
     Jesus Christ laid down His life for us, and we are asked to lay down our lives, our vulnerabilities, our weaknesses, and our egos, for those we care about in our lives. It is only then that Christ will bestow His grace, His truth, and His strength to enable us to do what we need to do for those in our lives.
        Everyone has been blessed with some wonderful talents, and one of the talents I feel God has bestowed on me, is that of healer. I find that people open up to me fairly easily, and that God's grace allows me to be available, completely available, to people's needs, and their sufferings. I always want to honor people's pain and where they are in life; to become Christ-like in that sense.
       But I've got to be wise in the use of my healing!
      When I was younger, I thought my purpose was to heal family members, or those I was dating: the drug addict, the alcoholic; that my partner needed to have some sort of defect I could fix, even though they didn't want, or think, they needed healing! Woops. They were fine in their pain, but I wasn't. Nowadays, I know God is the true healer, and that on the occasions people seek me for consolation, it's the Christ in me they seek. I am only the lowly vessel He uses to heal others. All glory and honor goes to God.
        There is a friend who is going through a terribly rough time right now. I keep them in my prayers...and I know it is not for me to heal this person. Thank goodness they aren't asking me to heal them either - as if I could. Recently this person was disrespectful to me, and I asked God what I could learn from the hurt of this disrespect, and here's what I learned, nothing new or unusual: I've got to forgive them. I don't excuse the behavior, but I do forgive them.
      When I googled the words to the Don Henley tune, and then listened to it on CD, I realized the only part of this song I'm to own is "forgiveness."
The rest is for them:
I got the call today, I didn't wanna hear
But I knew that it would come
An old true friend of ours was talkin' on the phone
She said you found someone
And I thought of all the bad luck,
And the struggles we went through
And how I lost me and you lost you
What are these voices outside love's open door
Make us throw off our contentment
And beg for something more?

I'm learning to live without you now
But I miss you sometimes
The more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I knew, I'm learning again
I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it's about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore

These times are so uncertain
There's a yearning undefined
...People filled with rage
We all need a little tenderness
How can love survive in such a graceless age
The trust and self-assurance that can lead to happiness
They're the very things we kill, I guess
Pride and competition cannot fill these empty arms
And the work I put between us,
Doesn't keep me warm

I'm learning to live without you now
But I miss you, Baby
The more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I figured out, I have to learn again
I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But everything changes
And my friends seem to scatter
But I think it's about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore

There are people in your life who've come and gone
They let you down and hurt your pride
Better put it all behind you; life goes on
You keep carrin' that anger, it'll eat you inside

I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it's about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore

I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
Because the flesh will get weak
And the ashes will scatter
So I'm thinkin' about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore


"I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world." Mother Theresa

We be trippin'

Hello friends,
     Thank you Lord for safe travel. May God bless you and keep you safe, dear reader. In Jesus' Name. Amen.

My trip began with a flight to DC, then a plane to CT, where my friend Cy is going to school. The reason for this excursion? She is returning to Tx for the summer and needed someone to drive her back to Texas (where she resides); she asked me to accompany her on her trip.

The house where Cy is staying is amazing, so I had to take photographs to share with you. This was the view from the kitchen window. The house is three stories: an upper floor, a middle floor, and then a basement that is a complete living area; it has a washer/drier, refrigerator, two full bathrooms, two bedrooms, and a pool table. (not shown) 

The majority of my photos are from the middle level of the house, because that's where the best lighting happened to occur.

There are plenty of windows showing off the spectacular landscape, and this is the view directly across from the kitchen window. You are seeing correctly: that's a deck.

This is the other side of the deck, on the outside. When's the party, Cy???

The stream that runs behind the house was hard to take pictures of, but you could hear it. This pathway leads you to the stream and the huge backyard.

 

Cy was packed and we were ready to go!

Just a couple of welcome signs from the states we crossed on our way back to Texas:

 

Upon entering Tennessee from the East, we saw this:

This was the view from our hotel. I took this picture because I was amused by how many "World Famous," signs I saw in Tennessee.

We arrived in Nashville around 8ish p.m. We didn't get to Broadway, a street similar to Austin's Sixth Street, but Austin has many more bars, until 11ish.

Here are some of the sights and sounds of our excursion into the night life:

I don't know what this building was, but I like the architechture. My guess is that it's a courthouse of some sort.

It is an unspoken rule that if you come across anything Jimmy Buffet, you must take a photo.

Cy took this photo on Saturday afternoon. I am standing outside of the Memphis Welcome Center. Notice there's a guitar for the 'i' in Memphis? Anywhere you looked and saw the word "Memphis," it has a guitar for the 'i'. ;)

Inside the Welcome Center, which is right behind where I'm standing, you'll find him:

And almost directly behind Elvis is:

These photos are just some of the black and white photos inside the Welcome Center that I thought were cool:

Aretha Franklin

Yes, this IS Ray Charles.

A super young Elvis and B.B. King.

It's always wonderful to travel within the United States. And yes, there is also tremendous benefit in traveling abroad; however, I think Americans don't realize the real treasures and important historic places we have...and many people don't take the time to find out what is right here in our very own backyard. More's the pity too, because it's worth seeing.

"I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world." Mother Theresa