ipod to God

if only one Star shines...

Laura's Virtual Honesty Tour

I've been considering a move to Va. and have been looking around for a house. My sister lives in a nice area of Chesapeake. I would prefer a private house rather than a townhouse or condo, but of course there's only so much house one can buy on a nurse's meager income. I have been preapproved for a mortgage which back in the day could have put me into the home of my choosing. Not today. Not in Virginia Beach. Maybe in Florida. So I turned my attention to the boonies of Chesapeake and the burbs of Norfolk. I talked to a Realtor friend of Laura's, and she arranged for automatic e-mailings of listings specific to my 'wants'.

A couple of days ago, I received several listings. One caught my eye. An adorable and affordable little house in South Chesapeake, Va. I could see it had a nice yard with a garden area and a play area for kids, not that I have any but you never know. I had checked out the area from the Google's Birds-eye perspective, and was a bit leary of being so close to the tracks and those large oil storage tanks. Wierd. Panning out, you can actually fly around the neighborhood, zoom in on people's backyards. The neighborhood seemed clean enough, albeit a few cars in yards, some junk here and there. Kind of seedy and in some spots, not sure WHAT I was looking at. So on her way home from work today, my sister Laura, who calls just about every day at this time, typed the address into her GPS and headed over for a look-see.

I had her on the cellphone, and also had the area on Google Birds-eye, so I could actually peer into people's backyards, from about 70 yards away. I asked her to give me an idea of the area; what she was seeing and of course I didn't have to ask her to be honest or descriptive.

G: So are you almost there?

L: (still on the highway) There's a black man with a blue face.

G: WHAT? WHERE?

L: Walking down the road.

G: He has a BLUE face?

L: yeah.

G: Like one of those very dark skinned people. It's not really blue. Just very dark.

L: No. It's blue... You know how white people go brown? Well this black dude went blue. Must be for the series. PAINTED IT."

G: OH...he PAINTED it blue.( There was that one guy who took some med or something and actually turned his skin blue)

L: Yeah.

She turns into the neighborhood.

L: OK, there's a lady with no teeth.

G: You can see that close?

L: Yeah.

G: What else?

L: Four white children with floods on, and the one is running around with wax teeth. Wax. Halloween teeth. These people are really into decorating for Halloween. oh this is not really...OK, here's the house. Oh, It's really cute. It's got a nice walkway.

G: Tell me about it.

L: It's a nice house, but the area is sort of depressed. You know, poverty. OK, there's a drainage gully in the front yard. The house next door is cuter. Cleaner looking yard. Nice houses in a bad area.

G: Well, what else do you see?

L: OK, well there's a billboard that reads "Be Sexy".

G: WHAT?

L: It's for a Halloween Store. But it's as big as those Johnny Walker Red one's in NYC. Uh, I don't think you'd like this place at all. There's these men burning things over there.

G: Oh. I see.

L: I know my neighborhood's not the best. I'm not delusional AT ALL, but...Gina, this place is like, it's like (reacting to a statue) the MASONS.

G: WHAT?

L: There's this big statue of a MASON with a big FEZ on his head holding a handicapped child. I guess that's the cause."

G: Ah...the MASONS. Right.

L: There's a black man burning something.

G: Well I like the smell of wood burning in Autumn.

L: I don't know if it's wood or garbage.

G: Oh...so what's your impression?

L: I'd be afraid. I'd be very afraid. For real. You'd definitely have to get a rifle. And sleep with it."

G: So, not good.

L: THe WHOLE area smells like farts. SMELLS LIKE FARTS. Imagine inviting your family over and the place smells like farts? It's located on the cusp of an industrial wasteland, spewing out fart odor 24/7. NASTY. You don't wanna live there GinaM, and to be honest, I'd never want to come visit if you lived there. It's just a very depressed area. Poverty. It's really sad. You don't need to succumb to that. You sure don't, and I am sure your realtor has not seen this one or she would direct you away from it.

G: I guess not. OK. Thanks, Laur. I appreciate your honest opinion. Onto the next!

i'll go wash the dishes...

Thank You for lub dub

How do you explain,
How do you describe,
A love that goes from east to west,
And runs and deep as it is wide?

You know all our hopes
Lord, you know all our fears
And words cannot express the love we feel
But we long for You to hear

Chorus:
So listen to our hearts (oh, Lord, please listen)
Hear our spirits sing (and hear us sing)
A song of praise that flows (a simple song of praise)
From those You have redeemed (from those You have redeemed)
We will use the words we know
To tell You what an awesome God You are
But words are not enough
To tell You of our love
So listen to our hearts


If words could fall like rain
From these lips of mine
And if I had a thousand years
I would still run out of time

So if You listen to my heart
Every beat would say,
“Thank You for the Life, thank You for the Truth, thank You for the Way.”

[Chorus]

Is Jesus the Messiah? ( Part 2)

Part 1

i was

tear

what do I know of holy- addison road

wha

dream on G Clair

Nothing's ever what it seems,
I wait around, and in my dreams,
I'm something more, than what I am
not Spam 'n eggs, green eggs or ham

but what I've dreamed in slumber's car
is not beyond the farthest star
but just above the highest cloud
where frozen skies can't scream out loud

or laugh or cry or live or die
or touch the apple of His eye
or grasp a thought, and catch a smile
or take a nap and rest a while

or lie outside in fresh cut grass
the summer sun, the day to pass
and when I'm rested, let it go
autumn comes and then the snow

life is short, and I am smitten
but hardly had the fruit been bitten
anger cuts the evening short
hopes and dreams meet TV sport

angry tones, a hot debate
and deep-set hurt will always wait
words are spoken, much regret
at least you're free now from the net

darkness comes but evening's fires
thaw the chill, and warm desires
hope for love, a life so sweet
calms the rage and stirs the heat

not so fast, the damage done
the fear rekindled in His son
faith moves mountains, this one still
cannot be moved beyond his will

all I wanted, something good
something blessed, a God who could
give me more than fleeting hope
far beyond my simple scope

and looking at that brightest star
reminded what a fool I ARE
I wish I may and wish I might
not have the thing I had tonight

to leave it to the greatest One
is often hard, and not much fun
but not as bad, and worse to take
is love's enormous bellyache

reminded there's a better plan
a place within His loving hand
and taken there one autumn day
the dream's allure just fell away

what I had thought 'true love' would be
far less than what He has for me
with oneness as it's greatest goal,
forgives the hurts and heals the soul

" I only wanted a salutary goodbye" BT

Adj. 1. salutary - tending to promote physical well-being; beneficial to health; "beneficial effects of a balanced diet"; "a good night's sleep"; "the salutary influence of pure air"
good
healthful - conducive to good health of body or mind; "a healthful climate"; "a healthful environment"; "healthful nutrition"; "healthful sleep"; "Dickens's relatively healthful exuberance"

Her Choice to Heal- By Synda Masse and Joan Phillips

Review by Fr. Frank Pavone

In one of the latest books on post-abortion healing, Sydna Masse and Joan Phillips team up to courageously share their painful experiences of abortion, as well as their joyful discovery of the healing which Jesus Christ brings.

Her Choice to Heal is written in a clear, personal style, speaking directly to the woman who has aborted her child. Though it contains very valuable information about the dynamics of post-abortion syndrome, it is more of a guided journey through the initial stages of healing than a treatise about post-abortion issues. In reading it, you feel as though you are being led by a wise and compassionate friend, all the while holding your hand and assuring you that no matter how bad your abortion experience may be, someone has been there before, and there is hope.

Sydna and Joan intersperse the chapters of their book with the example of their own journeys through denial, anger, grief, forgiveness, letting go, and the joy of discovering the Savior. They speak with psychological realism as well as the wisdom of God's Word, provided in numerous Scriptural citations.

The book provides the opportunity for the reader to interact with the emotions and memories of a past abortion, even providing blank pages for writing down thoughts and reactions to the points raised in each chapter.

This book provides concrete practical suggestions as well as references to additional resources on post-abortion issues. It concludes with a moving reflection by a man who pressured someone into having an abortion.

Her Choice to Heal is a treasure for anyone who has had an abortion, or for those who may have facilitated an abortion. It is likewise extremely valuable for family members and friends of post-abortion individuals, as well as for clergy and counselors seeking to improve their ability to help people find post-abortion healing.

To understand the pain of those who have had abortions is one of the most urgent tasks today for those who seek to love their neighbors. Her Choice to Heal helps all of us take another step toward fulfilling that most serious obligation.

Order from Ramah International
PO Box 173
Ramah, CO 80832-0173

Phone and Fax (719) 573-7707

KEEP TO THE RIGHT

He keeps to the right, he's not to be tempted
the rules are the rules and they won't be preempted
by dingbats and dumbasses, yuppies and jerks
idiot bimbos, who think they have perks.
Pushing his buttons as he climbs up the case
he's still on the right but you're right in his face

Texting and talking up the old escalator
keeping tabs on each other, when you can say 'see you later'
And then at the top of the stair, PLEASE keep walking
hang out somewhere ELSE~ and ENOUGH with the talking!
Far worse on train, a much longer ride
and now on the bus, and he's fit to be tied!

You take up TWO spaces when you need only one
and that drippy umbrella has robbed all his sun
And WHAT are you eating? It smells just like crap
his blood pressure's pushing the steam through his cap
Normally quiet, this mild-mannered gent is really no trouble, until he get's bent
the key to avoiding a terrible plight, mind all your manners, and KEEP TO THE RIGHT!

Turn Your Eyes Away

Della, turn your eyes away
we shouldn't view this scene
I'm searching for an answer
in a place that's just obscene
and I know there's no corruption
in your history to view
but it's burned within my memory
can't delete it when I'm through
Turn your eyes away

I buried my convictions
along the weary road
well they were getting heavy
for the other stuff I towed
and I had to choose the latter
for the former was quite old
and it seemed a little corny
for those stories had been told.

And then I found the answer
old Della here will do
no one else would ever know
nor give a rat's tattoo
and I could be my own boss
and do it all at home
no longer on the beaten path
old Dell and I could roam.

To Google was my pleasure
I'd do it day and night
while looking out for trouble
I could Google any site
I steered away from porno
and kept my nose from crime
but soon my roaming eyes would lead
to downloads of sublime.

it was a wild adventure
while sitting in my home
my back grew fat with cellulite
my legs were more like foam
I lost some of my vision
my feet are cold and numb
goodbye to feeling in my hands
hello to stiffened thumb.

and then one day it happened
I landed on an image
I had not seen before, he stood there
on line of scrimmage
the scene was somewhat tainted,
"I shall not look", I sainted,
but caught myself in quite a stare
My mother would have fainted.

From a place down deep within me
I heard the preacher cry
"Dear woman what have you begot?
A sight for sorry eye"
I swear I didn't do it
it came up on my screen
I didn't search for 'nudity'
I searched for sompin' clean.

I turned around there in my seat
and felt a sudden void.
it's something I've been missing
the real John McCoid.
I'd filled my life with Della
and lost all essence of
the beauty of my real life
and with that, real love.

I turned back to the stranger
and wished him for my own
but frankly I'd be more impressed
with much less of a bone.
I clicked him off and turned my thoughts
back towards that weary way
and asked the God who saw my sin
to clear my mind that day.

Della, turn your eyes this away
you need to view this scene
I'm searching for an answer
from the One who is Serene
His seed is incorruptible
and planted in my soul
will redirect my weary mind
Lord, cleanse and make me whole.

Turn your eyes this way!

a lovely memory...

It was the summer of '82. I was visiting my sister's family in Alameda. We were all packed into my brother in law's VW Beetle, enjoying an afternoon drive through the winding hills down to Stetson Beach, just north of San Fran. Charlie was crooning 'Blue Eyes' to his baby daughter, Erin, just 9 months old at the time, when rather unexpectedly (isn't that the way it goes), she started pukin' up hotdog chunks. From that time on, I can't hear this song without getting carsick, and smelling hotdogs. Oh... Excuse me.

...like the sunshine

change your heart
look around you
change your heart
it will astound you
i need your lovin'
like the sunshine

everybody's got to learn sometime
everybody's got to learn sometime
everybody's got to learn sometime

That Crazy Mixed Up Salt

What the BT Burger sings to the Cheddarina...open face on rye