This is one of my favorite times of the year because I love giving gifts and celebrating the freedom that Jesus brought to us all. Like most traditional Christian families teach, I was taught that Christmas is Jesus’ birthday. But I also knew about Santa Claus, though not the history of the real person, Saint Nicholaus, which is supposedly what the legend of Santa Claus is built on. Every culture seems to have its “Santa Claus” though. I think it’s because we all need to slow down, think of others before ourselves, and extend the love of God that lives inside all of us. If, and when, we look inside ourselves, we feel the pull and tug of His eternal love longing to be given to each other. It doesn’t have to be gifts of money or things. In fact, when we give based on what we thoughtfully see someone needs or wants, that person feels truly loved. Sometimes it’s the gift of your time spent listening to the other person. Or noticing that someone can’t pay for an item in their grocery cart and buying it for them. Donating your time at a soup kitchen, or simply smiling at everyone you pass by. I try to remind myself that I don’t know what someone else’s day has held, and kindness could change the way it’s going. I hope your holiday season is filled with opportunities to spread kindness and love to all you come in contact with, and that you are surrounded with loving family and friends!
About a month or so ago I received a letter from my dad, unexpectedly. His opening paragraph had me chuckling – chuckling in amazement that, once again, he proves my point about his narcissism. Oh, on the surface of it, it seems harmless and as though he truly wants to restore a relationship with me and my family. But read closely. Can you spot the problems? (Please keep in mind that I’ve had no other communication with my parents since their last email, which addressed my 12 page letter to them. And this letter was hand written.)
“Chris and Alexa,
Wow! Can you believe it’s been over twenty years since you two were married. We’ve experienced a lot of life during that time and seen a lot of ups and downs. Stuff like raising kids, financial valleys (for us including shutting down two companies and bankruptcy), moving, building house, marriage of kids and grand babies, spiritual awakenings, and lots of emotions. Life doesn’t slow down and yet we’re always facing forward and choosing to Rejoice in The Lord through it all. Continue reading
Yep, that’s me, smoking a cigar, and, yes, I sometimes drink out of a pirate mug that we bought on one of our holidays in Savanah, GA. 🙂
Tonight has been a wonderful night for sitting on our back porch, relaxing and enjoying cigars with rum punch. It’s about 74 degrees here with a slight breeze, and the screens ensure the mosquitos can’t suck our blood. Occasionally, the cricket’s songs are punctuated by the neighbor’s horse, well, neighing. I would have called it whickering, but since it lives about a quarter mile from us, it is a bit louder than that. Nevertheless, it’s a pleasant compliment to the evening sounds.
This is one of the reasons my husband has worked so hard to provide us with this fabulous retreat we call home. Every time I pull up the long, winding driveway to my home I think, “Wow! I live here?!” We’ve lived here in the peaceful country for a little over four years now and I’ve loved every minute of it. The spaciousness of my home, the privacy away from prying eyes, the attention to details that were/are important to us – and I get to share it all with the people I love!
I don’t think I can ever thank my husband enough for all his hard work making our dream come true. He is a wonderful provider!
Smoking cigars and drinking together has long been one of our favorite pastimes, and I feel immensely blessed that we can share it with each other.
What are some of your favorite pastimes? I’d love to hear from you!
I am passing this on for all of our sakes. What you read should concern any freedom loving person. Spread the word! Thank you!
Recently, a friend mentioned that she was happy that Common Core was finally gone, and that we could finally look toward something better. Why did she think the Common Core Initiative was over? It…
Source: The Enemy Inside: How #GoOpen, The Federal Learning Registry, and the U.S. Internet Throwaway Threatens Student Speech, Religion and Privacy
I’ve been pondering the idea, or virtue, of forgiveness lately.
Some people’s response to me about the situation between my parents and me is that I need to forgive them so I can let it go, move on. I’m slightly puzzled, because I did/have forgiven them (multiple times, as needed, every time they re-do what they always do), but somehow by me sharing my experiences means that I haven’t forgiven them and moved on. Continue reading
This is the response I received from my parents after I wrote them my letter. I used the links you’ll see throughout the letter to disseminate their comments (my comments are numbered). Both of my parents have consistently used these 20 diversion tactics over my 41 years of life, and I believe, from conversations I’ve had with their siblings, that they were behaving this way in their teens as well. It is a sad excuse for a parental response to a child that they hurt. However, I never expected less, and I wrote my letter to benefit my siblings, not my parents. I hope as my siblings mature and become their own individuals that they will see exactly how mentally ill our parents are. Here we go! Continue reading
Recently I became fed up with the lies, insinuations and manipulations of my parents, so I wrote a blog post about my love story to set the record straight. As you can imagine, it set off fireworks in my parents’ household and sparked outrage in some of my siblings. It wouldn’t, shouldn’t, have, except my parents have done a marvelous job indoctrinating their children from birth in their fundamental, patriarchal, narcissistic thinking and belief system.
You see, they neglected to indoctrinate and isolate me from birth, but started rather late, around the age of eleven or so and then, shortly thereafter, joined a cult. Not that I didn’t enjoy the same Bible-thumping, hell and damnation, you’re-a-sinner-and-you’ll-always-be-a-sinner teaching that my siblings got. However, by age 12 I had already enjoyed too much freedom to observe how other people interacted, decide how I was going to behave in any given situation, and begin to decide if I agreed with my parents or not. To them I was a rebel; how dare I question them on anything, think what I wanted instead of what they expected, and try to be an individual apart from them. Continue reading