Summer Sunshine

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Thursday, December 3, 2015

What The Devil Doesn't Want You to Know

Image.jpg
not the devil, but my sometimes devilish son

The Devil.  We all know who he is.  He has many names;  Satan, Lucifer, and Prince of Darkness to name a few.  He is the prideful unfaithful angel who rejected God by choice.  Cast out of Heaven with his entourage, his mission has been to undermine God at every opportunity and lead man in disobedience against our Creator.  A master manipulator, the devil is creative, diabolical, and powerful.  With tools such as these it is no wonder our world finds itself mired in chaos.  A formidable foe, here are a few things the devil does not want you to know:
The Devil is real:  Not only real,  but the devil  has the ability to appear in many forms.  We all know  of the slippery snake who convinced Eve to eat the fruit of the Tree of Wisdom. It is important to remember Eve was not afraid of the snake.  She did not run shrieking to Adam.  If she had, it would have saved us all a world of trouble. Literally, the world would not be in trouble.  The snake is described in Genesis as cunning, not fearful.  The devil is okay with you not being afraid of him.  Without fear you are more open to listening to him. He can draw you in.  He can be attractive and sleek using whatever he can to keep you from God.  Whatever takes us away from God and our true purpose can be devious in nature.  We may not bow down  to golden calves..but what is the first thing you reach for when your eyes open in the morning?  How much time do you spend on facebook, instagram, and twitter?  Where is your attention and focus?  The devil uses our original sin and innate nature against us.  He preys on our pride and naivety about his abilities to get us to choose to disobey God, just as Eve did.  
Prayer is good for you:  The devil does not want you to know that prayer is not only good for you but works. The last thing he wants is for you to talk to God.  Prayer is not just petitioning God.  It is the development of a relationship with God through praise, contrition, thanksgiving, and submission.  It is opening our hearts and mind to the Lord.  It is an act of faith, belief, and love. Prayer is an indication of hope.  The devil wants us all to feel hopeless. Hopelessness leads to pain.  The devil loves pain.  
God loves us:  I love my children.  I often ask them, “Who loves you the most?”  When they respond, “ You do.”  I tell them, “No. God does.”   The devil does not want you to know that God loves you.  He want you to feel small, insignificant, and alone.  He wants you to feel abandoned and unloved.  He wants you to look for love in all the wrong places, not even realizing that you are surrounded by it.  God longs to show us his love.  He wants us to know and to believe in it.  It is the basis of our existence.  The devil wants you to feel insignificant, one of millions crying out to a deaf God.  This is a lie.  You are not one of millions.  You are one IN a million, IN a billion.  God not only hears you, but he loves you more than anyone ever will.  He has given us all  guardian angels, saints and his only son to show us the way to him.  You are not alone and you are loved.
Death is not the end:  The devil wants you to think death is the end.  Death is the end of life.  It is also the beginning of eternal life with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit all focused on you in a joining of true rapture.  It is love personified; beautiful, real and awesome. It is the end of all earthly desires and longing.  It all falls away and there is nothing left but union with God.  Eternal life is the goal and is obtained through obedience, service to others, and love.  The devil wants you to believe death is the end and you should have all the fun you can without a thought of what will come later.  What kind of choices would you make?

Real Presence: The belief that the Holy Eucharist is in fact the body and blood of Jesus, not symbolic...but actual.  Some  argue it is the basic tenet of the Catholic faith and the biggest bone of contention between Traditional Protestants and Catholics.  Real Presence is the epitome of faith.  Our logical minds are suspended and our faith stands alone.  God is real.  Jesus is real, risen, and before us as bread and wine.  Not in but IS.  The devil does not want you to believe. I myself have struggled with real presence, reciting Amen, Amen, Amen over and over before communion.  I believe, I believe, I believe.  Recently there has been a news story of a consecrated host bleeding in a glass of water.  The image repulsed me and I was ashamed.  I prayed/conversed with God about it.  I was given an epiphany.  We eat and drink to survive.  Without it we would die an earthly death.  Jesus comes to us as bread and wine, as food from heaven to nourish us...our souls. He restores and strengthens us.  He is the ultimate super food.  It is further proof of God’s love.  The devil does not want you believing in true presence.  He does not want you rushing to Mass to receive Jesus!  Imagine what churches would be like if everyone believed in true presence.  They would be packed..bursting at the seams, not only on Sundays but everyday.  

Friday, October 2, 2015

I Am A Christian

I am a Christian.  I believe in Christ.  I believe he is God.  I believe he came down from Heaven, not as a Zeus.  He came down  as flesh and blood; vulnerable, modest, and new.  I believe Jesus grew up from a baby to a man who taught about compassion, epitomized love, and imparted wisdom.  I believe in his courage, in his selflessness, and in his resurrection.  I believe in him so much that I do not like to look at crucifixes because the image of our Lord’s body hanging in humility, vulnerable, and in pain causes my heart such agony.  I am a Christian, but could I die for it?
If a man with a gun were to walk into a room and demand, “If you are a Christian stand up.”   I do not think I would have the courage to stand up.  As much as I believe, as much as I love...I do not know that I am ready to suffer for our Lord.
Just writing those words seems harsh.  Let’s be real.  Back in the day people were getting killed left and right for being Christians.  The more you believed, the more your professed your faith, the more likely you were to be murdered.  Every time I read a bible story about someone who was martyred in our Lord’s name, I can not help but to ask, “Lord, why?  Why is it those who show you so much devotion, and love suffer?”
Other resolutions: 176 × 240
Ten people died  yesterday in Oregon.  It is reported that they were signaled out for being a Christian:
“[He started] asking people one by one what their religion was. ‘Are you a Christian?’ he would ask them, and if you’re a Christian stand up. And they would stand up and he said, ‘Good, because you’re a Christian, you are going to see God in just about one second.’ And then he shot and killed them,”
They stood up.  They stood up!  Faced with a man standing with the devil, they held to their convictions and stood up.   They were killed for it.  
Christians around the world are being persecuted for their faith.  In April 2015, Pope Francis gave a speech:
“Our brothers and our sisters … are persecuted, exiled, slain, beheaded, solely for being Christian,” he said, his expression tense, his cadence slow but deliberate.
April 2015:  147 people are massacred at Garissa University College in Kenya.  They were signaled out for being Christians.  http://www.cnn.com/2015/04/02/africa/kenya-university-attack/
February 2015: 21 Egyptian men beheaded in a grisly video for being Christians. http://time.com/3718470/isis-copts-egypt/
A July New York Times Magazine recounts the plight of Middle East Christians who are being driven from their homes.  They are not allowed to take anything with them except their lives.  Three year old Christina was ripped from her mother’s arms as they waited on a bus to leave.   When her mother pleaded for her daughter’s return she was told,
As I sit here in my house, writing away with a scented candy cane pencil, drinking flavored coffee, I am sad and angry...uncomfortable only in my emotions.  I contemplate the lives of Christians everywhere;  brave souls who dare to practice their faith even when it threatens their livelihoods and lives.  I am sad and angry..but I am also alive.  I remember those who had the courage to stand up...and died because of it.  
I am a Christian.  I believe in Christ.  I believe he is God.  Today I pray that I will remember his compassion, humility and vulnerability.  Today I pray that even in my anger I will remember to be the example and not the problem.  Today I pray that I will stand up for my faith.  I will evangelize.  I will love.  I will be patient.  I will not blame.  I will be courageous. I will serve. Today I pray for those who said, “I am a Christian. I believe…”  Today I pray for those who stood up and died for it.

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Top 10 Ways You Know You are Getting Old

    In Honor of Turning a Year Older this Month:

10. The music you listened to in high school has its' own channel on Sirius/XM.

9. If you don't leave the house by 7 pm, you are not leaving the house.
8. You keep track of what day of the week it is using a pill case.

7. You see a doctor at least once a month.

6. You use scientific studies viewed on Good Morning America as a reason to    eat more chocolate and drink more wine...(as if children were not reason enough).

5. The sitcoms you watched as a kid are now on Nick at Night.
4. What you wore as a kid is now back in style.
3. You can remember when there wasn't Internet.

2. You can remember when kindergartners did not have cell phones.

1. At least three movies you watched as a kid have been remade!

Bonus: You've found God! ( You're either getting old or you're in trouble)


Single lit candle on iced cup cake, close-up
Feel free to add to my list in the comments below!

Friday, August 21, 2015

What's For Dinner

Tips and Tricks #2
What's For Dinner

     I remember a time when I would stand in front of the refrigerator at 5'oclock in the evening of a busy work day wondering "What's for dinner?" With a looming 6:00 soccer practice  my brain would fight to come up with some sort of idea. Spaghetti? No noodles.  Meatloaf? No crackers.  Chicken? It's frozen!  You know that feeling..when you have spent a million dollars at the grocery store, get home, put everything away with a great deal of satisfaction only to be disappointed two hours later when you have no idea of what's for dinner.  A couple of years ago I was browsing through a Better Homes and Gardens Magazine when I came across this beautifully made magnetic menu board.  It had categories for veggies, meats, and carbs.  All you had to do was plug in your choices, make a list, and head out to the grocer.  Now, I am more of the immediate gratification kind of person.  I am also not very crafty and am cheap.  I was not about to make that magnetic board.  However, I did have  a million dry erase calendars hanging around the house. My Menu Board was born.  
     I simply use a note book with sections for chicken, beef, pork, and seafood to keep track of the different meals we eat on a regular basis.  I may get around to adding sections for veggies and carbs...maybe. Whenever I come across a recipe I like, I add it's title under the correct section in my notebook and a note of where to find it. At the beginning of the month I  write on my dry erase board calendar the menu for two weeks. It's not so hard because I have my notebook to refer to for ideas.  Using the calendar to make my grocery list, I buy only what I need. If you put the menu some place in your kitchen where everyone can see it, it will help to encourage pre-reading skills and discourage the, "What's for dinner?" questions.  One of the first things my youngest began reading was the home menu. 
     There are a lot of helpful menu websites out there as well as apps that you can use to make menus.  On another note, my dry erase board does not have ads and doesn't collect information on me to sell to a third party.   If you are a crafty super organized person, you can go the Better Homes and Gardens route and make the full on magnet menu.  I however, have no time for that!
If you have a Tips and Tricks you'd like to see featured, send me a message!  If you enjoyed this post please comment below and feel free to share!

Friday, July 31, 2015

Tina's Top Ten: Why I Don't Homeschool

This is a special shout out to all the Mommas and  Dads that home school their children.  You are selfless and a hero in my book! You're truly doing something that I know I can not do!  Enjoy


Top 10 Reasons I Don't Homeschool


  1. We pay taxes. ( I don't go into McD's hand them $10 and at least not get fries!)
  2. There's not enough wine in the world.(Seriously)
  3. I'd only teach them to do chores.
  4. I spent way to much time fighting the Separation Anxiety Battle. ( We just won with the youngest)
  5. I need a break from them.
  6. They need a break from me.
  7. They don't take naps.
  8. I can't afford to feed them lunch and snack everyday.  (They never stop eating when they're home)
  9. There's not enough wine in the world. ( I know this is a repeat of number 2, but it's that serious)
  10. I think they might kill each other.  (No! For real!)
Bonus:   I  don't want to end up in jail!



Got any reasons of your own? See if you can top my list in the comments below!

Sunday, July 19, 2015

The Paths We Choose

     A week ago, Sunday July 12th, I was inspired to sit and write Boys and Turtles.  Although the events had happened some time ago they begged to be put down. A simple, and as my husband pointed out somewhat long post,  that appeared to be about taking time to help others was really a little bit deeper than that. 
     On Thursday July 16, 2015, four days after I posted Boys and Turtles,  a man went on a shooting rampage that has claimed the lives of four Marines and a Sailor.  
     For those that read and thought that Boys and Turtles was about being a Good Samaritan..., it was more.  The tiny turtle with his broken shell and smashed in head are the individuals in this world that we wait to help. The broken turtles are the girls who define their self esteem by their sexuality, the runaways, the misfits,  the children who spend hours playing first person shooter games until they become desensitized to violence against others, and  those who suffer silently with mental illness until they take their lives. The broken turtles are the Boston Bombers, Sandy Hook Elementary School, Fort Hood, Colorado Theatre and Charleston Church Shooters. The tiny turtles are countless Americans who hear the cry of Isil and believe in it. The tiny turtles poised to cross the street into danger ...are the individuals whose choice of the wrong path leads to their death or the death of innocents.  
     The boy on the sidewalk has not yet gone down the fatal road.   Face hidden and withdrawn from the world; he represents individuals before they descend completely into  darkness.  He is lost, despondent, but not yet completely broken.  We are not brought into this world full of evil thoughts and ideas.  We are shaped by our circumstances, by the nurturing or lack thereof throughout our life.  We have all been like that boy, sitting somewhere alone in danger of  becoming  a smashed turtle. We have contemplated paths that were not the right ones.  Some of us have been closer than others.  Some of us may be close even now, and our friends and family have no clue. 
     There are those of us who were fortunate enough that in our dark moments someone  noticed and took the time to care before it was too late. There are those us of us with a belief system so strong that the mantra "Jesus Saves" carries us through those rough patches.  My heart goes out to the family and friends of those lost this past week.  I vow to keep a watchful eye, to unplug and really look at people, to ask for help when I need it, and to be watchful of the whispered call for help from others.

    

if you or someone you know is in distress:

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration

http://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/disaster-distress-helpline

Call 1-800-985-5990 or text TalkWithUs to 66746 to connect with a trained crisis counselor.
     

Monday, July 13, 2015

Boys and Turtles

A couple of weeks ago I was driving my daughter to swim practice.  It was a typical “Christina” weekday morning.  In other words, I was running late and annoyed because Tay had been telling me “Mommy it’s time to go!” every five minutes for the past half hour.  (I digress.)  As I stated I was running late and annoyed when I made a left turn on a particularly precarious road.  As I made that turn I noticed a small turtle on the right side of the road poised to cross to the woods on the opposite side.  This crooked wooded road is full of blind turns that make it dangerous for my Texas sized truck, nevermind a tiny turtle.  
A small voice inside of me piped up, “Christina, go back and help the turtle.”  Then came my more insistent one, “No! I am already late! It’s just a turtle. I can totally help it on my way back home...it’s just five minutes.”
I won.  I continued on, deposited Tay at her practice pool and made my way home.  As I made a left turn onto that crooked  road an hour and half later, yes an hour and a half, I once again saw the tiny turtle in the same spot still poised to cross the street.  Oops! I had forgotten all about the poor thing. I passed him up...again.  I was late!!! I had to pick up Tay.  It would only be like another five minutes!  
I grabbed Tay and we headed back towards the turtle. I was determined to help him.  I would not forget this time.  I would stop.  As we approached the area where I knew him to be, I spotted him..same side of the road, same position.  Funny.  He was in the same position.  He hadn’t moved at all! I know turtles are slow, but that slow?  Really?
No worries, Tiny Turtle!  Christina to the rescue!  I will save you!
I pulled the truck into a grassy area on the side of the road and scampered across the street praying I did not get hit by a car.  I arrived safely and plucked the turtle from the gravel of the road by his shell with a great deal of self satisfaction.  Then I looked at him, really looked at him and my shoulders fell.  There was a reason Tiny Turtle was only poised to cross the street...he was dead! His shell was cracked and his poor little head smashed.  Turtles were in fact not that slow!  I set him down in the grass away from the road and dejectedly walked back to the truck.
Tay queried, “What happened?”  My reply was simple and straightforward, “ He died. I was too late.”
Now wait! This is not a “HELP THE TURTLES CROSS” PSA.  There is more.  Read on! (although helping turtles cross is not a bad idea.)
A couple of weeks later to present day; I am headed to mass with my youngest, David, and running late..again.  I was on a main street of a neighborhood. It was a beautiful Sunday morning. People were out running and walking their dogs.  The sun was shining and promised to warm up the day enough for pool time later.  As I passed the community pool I noticed a boy wearing black skull and bones pajama bottoms with a black and red stripy shirt sitting on the path leading to the pool. The path was nestled between deep green bushes that contrasted sharply with the boy’s jet black hair.  I noticed that hair, because his knees were pulled up to his chest and his head rested on them. His hair was spiked and jutted out about his head.  I could not see his face, only the dark spiky hair and a pair of white earbud wires hanging loosely from his ears.  There was also a grey camouflage backpack lying askew just a few feet from him.  I wondered if he was okay as I drove past him.
IMG_4247.JPG
That is when the voice started again, not so quiet as with the tiny turtle. Louder this time,
“Stop.”
“I can’t stop. If I stop, I  really will be late. Not just kind of late but late!”
“Go back.”
“Surely he is fine. He does not want to be bothered. He’ll think I’m a weirdo.”
“Tiny Turtle.”
That was enough!  I turned the truck around at a conveniently placed cul de sac and went back.  I had just passed a couple of runners. Surely one of them stopped to check on the boy.  As I passed the area where he sat I noticed he was not looking down anymore.  I thought to myself perhaps he is okay and I do not need to stop.  In reply, I heard, “Stop” very insistent.  I pulled into the parking lot of the pool and parked behind him.  He did not turn around.  I got out of the car and gingerly approached him.  Still he did not turn around.   I glanced at the backpack lying near him trying to gauge if its’ bulge was from clothes for a runaway. His  legs were still drawn up to his chest,  earbuds still dangled from his ears and he still had not turned around.   I continued forward, determined and resolved.
“Excuse me.” I addressed him and he turned his head towards me. I really expected to see some distressed, tear streaked, red eyed face with maybe black eyeliner around the eyes. Nope. He had an earnest honest face with clear bright eyes.  I continued, “Are you okay?” He blinked and nodded in the affirmative.
“ I was passing by and I saw you and I just wanted to check on you.”
“Oh that’s so sweet of you. I’m just waiting on my mom.”
(I was a little taken aback by the “that’s so sweet of you”. I did not know teenage boys said things like that. This kid was not at all what I imagined )
“Well, okay you were sitting with your head down..so if you’re okay..”
“Yeah, my mom will be here soon. Thanks.”
“You don’t need to call her?”
He shook his head in the negative.  I was reluctant to leave, although he seemed fine. The voice, “That’s it. Go.” Me, “But maybe I should offer to wait with him.”
“No, Christina. That is it..go.”
So I got back in the truck and left.  David asked why we had stopped and I told him I had noticed the boy sitting there and I wanted to check on him.  Sometimes people need to know that someone cares about them, even if that someone is just a stranger.  It might be just what they need to get them through whatever is going on.  Admittedly I had imagined the worse with this kid and had gotten something else entirely. He could have gotten the pool hours confused and really was just waiting on his mom.  Still despite his appearance and insistence that everything was fine, maybe something else was going on.  Maybe God sent me back to him so he would know that someone did in fact care.  Maybe God sent me back because he knew I needed to feel appreciated, and the comment of "that' so sweet of you" would make me feel good. I do not know.  All I know is I did not want him to end up like the Tiny Turtle, broken on the side of the street;  not one person  stopping to help  because they were too busy,  did not know how, assumed someone else would, or just did not care.  Sometimes a simple “Are you okay?” is all someone needs.  Watch out for those tiny turtles in the world.  Watch out for those boys sitting alone.

Saturday, May 23, 2015

Religion

for the Quantico Women of the Chapel


Who Am I

Who am I
Oh Lord,
That I should see?

Who am I
Oh Lord,
That you should dwell within me?

Who am I
Oh Lord,
To eat from your table?

Who am I 
Oh Lord,
To worship at your cradle?

A mother,
A teacher,
A Leader.

A sheep,
A grain,
A heeder.

I hear your call 
Oh Lord,
And answer
Here I am.

I look to you 
Oh Lord,
And follow
The sweet lamb.

Therefor....

Here I am 
Oh Lord,
I feel you
Pulling me.

To worship,
To Love,
To serve,
And  all so graciously.

The little ones
I gather
To guide
So they too 
Shall see.

To poor and sick
I minister,
Because in 
Your eyes 
They are made worthy.

Blessings 
Abound
My soul
Does rejoice.

Here I am 
Oh Lord,
Fill me
With your
Most holy voice.

A mother,
A teacher,
A leader.

A sheep,
A grain,
A heeder.

Here I am
Oh Lord,
I was blind
You made me see.

A Sarah, A Hannah,
A Martha, a Mary.
Where you dwell
So shall I be.

Who Am I
Oh Lord,
That you should 
choose me?

Here I am 
Oh Lord
I sing out 
Jubilantly!

cal 5/2015