Darn those rebel forces.

I received this urgent letter yesterday which , not only gives me the opportunity to help others, but make a boatload of money for myself  at the same time. 
What a deal! 


 As I wonder about the letter-writer I bet they are hoping I have an image similar to this one in my head. 

Here is the letter. Still not sure how to respond besides to thank them for all the minute details and to ask them how on earth they knew to send this letter to me.




"Dear Guardian,

WITH THE BEST COMPLIMENTS OF THE YEAR,
I wish to solicit your help in migrating to your
country, My name is Kenneth Williams and Juliet are
the children of Late General Alexander Williams the
former Director of military intelligence and special
acting General Manager of the Sierra Leone Diamond
mining operation(SLDMC ).
I am contacting you to seek your good assistance to
transfer and invest USD8million belonging to my late
father which is deposited in a bank in lome,Togo. This
money is revenues from solid minerals and diamonds
sale which were under my fathers possession before the
civil war broke out.
Following the brake out of the war, almost all
government offices, cooperations and prostates were
attacked and vandalized. The SLDMC was looted and
burnt down to ashes, and diamonds worth millions of
dollars was stolen by the rebel military forces who
attacked my fathers office.
Many top government officials and senior army officers
were assassinated and my father was a key target
because of his very sensitive military position and
appointment in the SLDMC. Regrettably, my father was
captured and murdered along with half brother in cool
blood during a mid-night rebel shoot-out when our
official residence in Freetown was ambushed by Fordey
Sanko the notorious rebel leader.
My mother sustained very sever bullet injuries which
resulted to her untimely and painful death in a
private hospital here in lome,Togo.
Now we are alone in a totally strange country without
parents, relatives or any body to care for us at our
tender ages.
Before our mother died, she told us that our father
deposited some money which he made from diamond
sales and contracts at this bank here in lome,Togo and
that we should pray and find a trustworthy foreign
business partner who would help us to transfer and
invest this money in profitable business venture
overseas. She told us to do this quickly so that we
can leave Togo with our cousin brother-Arthur
who is here in the camp with us and, then settle down
abroad. She gave us all the bank documents to prove
the deposit and then told us that my father used my
name as the only son to deposit the money in the bank.
She told us that this is the reason why we came to lome,
Togo. My mother died afterwards. May her spirit
rest in perfect peace.
I have gone to the bank to make inquires about this
money and I spoke with the director of International
remittance who assured me that the everything is
intact and promised to help me transfer this money to
my foreign partners bank account as soon as I provide
my partners foreign bank account for them. However,
the director is very concerned because of my age, I am
21 years and as such promised to help me and he would
like to speak with my partner to ensure that this
money is invested wisely in only profitable business
because of his personal interest and sympathy for me.
Please note that I can only offer you 25% of the total
money as compensation for your noble assistance in
accordance with my mothers advise. I am interested in
any profitable commercial venture which you consider
very good in your country and you would also get a
school for me, my little sister and cousin so that we
can finish our college education.
I shall give you more details when I receive your
urgent response, depending on your reply to this,
Thanks, and God bless you, give you the wisdom
to carry out this great deal.
I await your immediate response to this email address:
XXXXXXXXXX
Yours sincerely.
KENNETH & JULIET WILLIAMS"


I don't think this is what they had in mind when they wrote this wonderfully detailed, personal letter to me, but this is the image I have stuck in my head. 

How would you respond?

Dear Muffin-top,

You need to know that you have over-stayed your welcome.
Don't get me wrong; you have served your purpose. You have kept me warm all winter long with your layer of fluffiness.
You have made me jolly. Well, maybe not actually jolly, but I think I may have looked jolly.
The way you poof out over the waistband of all my pants is slightly endearing. It looks kind of like a sweet marshmallow puffing up all gooey in the microwave.
(What? You haven't tried this? Go do it now. I'll wait.)
Because you are the super-size muffin-top, and almost as large as a whole other person, you have kept me company when I feel lonely. Your bubbly personality spills over when you bounce along the jogging trail with me. Thanks for that.
Your playfulness is apparent every time you pop out to say "Holla!" just as I am stretching for the Cap'n Crunch on the top shelf
Cute, right?
But I'd appreciate it so much if you would stop doing this in public as it not only frightens me, but others as well.
Anyhoo, it is time for you to go. Although it feels cozy to have you wrapped around me all winter, spring is right around the corner, and frankly, you don't look so good in my spring and summer clothes. I think it's the colors, as well as the cut of my wardrobe. Black is clearly your color, but the warm months call for white and turquoise, yellow and orange.
Which do not do you justice. All your rolls are exposed. Not a pretty look.

There is also the issue of health. You are just not healthy. You cause me to be unhealthy and anxious.
 You make me worry about driving to the store one day, getting hit by another car (in which case you would make a fine air bag.) and needing to go to the hospital. While I am in the ER, they find out I am bleeding internally, so they need to do emergency surgery. This means they would need to hold my pannus (that is YOU, Muffin-top) to the side in order to perform this life saving surgery. Frankly this brings unpleasant  images to my mind.
 See? Muffin-top anxieties.

Of course, many people are probably NOT worried about this little scenario, but there are the other, more obvious, health risks such as diabetes high blood pressure, heart disease, etc.
As you can see, Muffin, you need to leave.
 I am going to kick your butt.
If you even have a butt is beside the point.

The Best Present I Ever Received

(Originally published 1/22/08. Bears repeating at least once a year.)
 This common, ice-breaker question was asked of me recently and I knew immediately what I wanted to say, but I didn't say it. The setting was a light-hearted gathering and everything was , well, light-hearted. And I wanted to keep it like that. Because if I answered honestly what the best gift I ever received was, I would be weeping before a word got out of my mouth.

And I, my friends, am an ugly crier.

The best gift I ever received was the forgiveness of my sins and the promise of eternal life with the Father who loves me beyond reason.

I know. Just about everyone we know can say that, and it's the truth.

But the thing is, I don't deserve it. I really don't deserve it, and the fact that innocent, omnipotent, precious Jesus suffered and died for me, is absolutely ludicrous.

Because I murdered two of my own children.

(Don't think I'm being dramatic or over-the-top when I use the word "murder." I think not using it is what has helped get our society into this mess) I deserve to suffer and die. I deserve eternal hell apart from everything that is lovely, beautiful and good. The least I deserve is prison time in a small cell somewhere.

Oh, I repented.Repented is hardly a big enough word, but I don't know a better one. I regretted. I would eagerly give my life to change places with those children. I have been literally wracked by guilt and grief because of my selfish, cruel, thoughtless horrible decision to end the lives of my two babies by abortion. Nothing I can do will ever take away the grief of not knowing these children during my lifetime. Sometimes I look at Josiah or Amy and my heart just breaks into quarters. There was no where I could turn that would relieve me of the massive pain and life-swallowing shame.

But do you know what God did? He counted my tears and saved them in a bottle. He comforted me. He rejoiced over me with singing.He lifted my head. He welcomed me when I came to him.

It makes me shake my head in utter disbelief. Here I was, the most undeserving person on the planet, not worthy to raise my head in praise of him, uncomfortable in my own sick, sinful skin.

But he never left me. He sent his only son to suffer and die in my place so I could spend eternity with him, the Father who adopted me into his family. As one of his beloved children. He forgave me.

He loved me.

Unbelievable grace.

Scandalous, undeserved mercy.

It gives me goosebumps to think about it.

Today is the anniversary of Roe vs Wade, the decision that made my horrible decision easier for me and thousands like me.

Women are continuing to kill their own children everyday (45 million since 1973) and ruining their own lives in the process.

I volunteer in a women's prison and sometimes help lead a HEART (Healing and Encouragement for Abortion Related Trauma) bible study there. This article was sent to me by our local HEART leaders today and it shows very clearly how guilt-ridden women who have had abortion are, even decades afterwards.

If you want to hear more about my testimony you can go here, to the Eternal Perspectives Ministries website. This is Randy Alcorn's ministry and you can find answers to so many questions you may have about a variety of subjects pertaining to abortion as well as Heaven, the persecuted church, money issues, grace and truth etc. Truly an excellent site. You can also find out more about his books such as Heaven or Safely Home to name just a couple.

On a personal note, Randy and Nanci are very good friends of mine, as it was through them that God rescued me. Not many people invite a complete stranger into their house to live, and then find out she is not only homeless, but pregnant. I cannot say enough about their love and graciousness.

I have found Jesus to be the only forgiver of sins, the only way to eternal life and honestly, the best present I ever received.

Next time, I'll post a blog about something frivolous again, like my hair troubles (and believe me, they are many) or a recipe for chicken and dumplings or pot roast. But today this needed to be said and my children needed to be remembered, as do all of them. Not as faceless potential people, but as dearly loved, missing sons and daughters.

This is what the LORD says: "A voice is heard in Ramah, mourning and great weeping, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because her children are no more." Jer 31:15

The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing." Zeph. 3:17

Speaking up for the 7111

Six or seven inches of snow fell up here during the night. It is silent and pristine. After I cleaned out the stalls and fed the horses, I walked a little bit with the dogs and now I am making a pumpkin curry soup for dinner. (Mmmm-mmm. I know.)

But I feel a burden I can't shake and it is weighing me down just like those Douglas firs outside with their snow loads.

I am haunted by dead and dying babies.
Doesn't that sound awful?

I don't blame you for being totally offended and clicking off this blog right now while thinking happy thoughts of snowfall and football, birthdays and Modern Family.

 Or even mundane thoughts of your upcoming work-week, what you are going to wear tomorrow, your grocery list or what you are making for dinner.
That's what I want to do.

All of that is better than thinking about dead or dying babies.

Or is it?

Maybe you, like me, have turned away too often from the images of what we KNOW is happening every day not too far away from where you and your family live.

Not too far away from where you go to school or work.

 Just a few miles from where you buy your groceries.

Probably fairly close to the movie theater where you enjoy your entertainment, or the restaurant where you eat dinner.

I'm sure it is pretty close to the church where you go to worship God on the weekends.

 This child killing is taking place right in our neighborhoods and the thought of that today is wrecking me. Babies are dying.

Women in our vicinity are making appointments to abort their children this week.

One by one by one. They are lining up to abort their children.

One by one by one. Their children are dying. Are you getting this? Are you feeling the weight of this?
 We need to stop saying that there is nothing we can do and turning away.

In my metro area, there are approximately 7111 babies aborted every year. That is about 136 babies each week.
I looked up Lovejoy (a abortion facility near us) online and they have such a nice and welcoming website that it hurt to look at it. By the way, they call it "ending a pregnancy" as if a child were not even involved. They also offer counseling after an abortion. (I wonder if I could still go?)
 Click on their website and see the P.C. and sanitized version of what goes on there. Does it strike your heart like it does mine?

 I encourage you to go see what is happening in your neighborhood and your city.

In his video 180, Ray Comfort shows a video of people that lived in the neighborhoods surrounding the concentration camps where the murder of millions of Jews took place. After the war was over, these people were taken in to visit the camp so they could see what had happened there.

They had seen for themselves themselves the billowing black smoke rising from the camp day after day. But they had turned away, dismissed the signs, ignored what they saw. Until the devastating day they went to visit. Click on the 180 link to watch this video yourself. So striking.

The most moving image in the archives is a recently discovered picture of the Nazi concentration camp at Auschwitz.
The smoke on the left-hand side of the picture is being produced by the mass burning of bodies in funeral pits.

We have to look at this.

We have to look at what is happening.
We have to talk about this.
When we are quiet, babies die.
When we do nothing and look away, women are condemned to a life of hiding their shame and grief, covering it up with a barrage of attitudes, habits and behaviors, none of which are healthy. I know about this. See my testimony here and here at EPM's site.

So, please.
Please talk about this.
Blog about it. Make it your Facebook status and Tweet it.

 Offer both grace and truth and don't be more concerned about offending people than about saving people.


"Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, to defend the rights of the poor and needy." Proverbs 31:8-9

Does God care about football?

The best answer I have heard to this question comes from the movie, "Facing the Giants."
Which leads me to the question, "Does God care about the movies?"
Same answer.

Just replace a few of the words and switch it around a bit.

"Brock Kelley: So you think that God does care about football?

Grant Taylor: I think He cares about your faith. He cares about where your heart is. And if you can live your faith out on the football field then yes, God cares about football because He cares about you. He sent His son Jesus to die for us so we could live for Him. That's why we're here. But see, it's not just on the football field; we've got to honor Him in our relationships, our respect for authority, in the classroom, and when you're at home alone surfing the internet. I want God to bless this team so much that people talk about what He did. But it means we got to give Him our best in every area. If we win, we praise Him. And if we loose, we praise Him. Either way, we honor Him with our actions and our attitudes. So I'm asking you: what are you living for? I've resolved to give God everything I've got. Then I'll leave the results up to Him. I want to know if you'll join me?"

My friend, Randy, has met and spent some time with Tim Tebow, and his family.
Which clearly makes us like family with the Tebow's.
By this same formula, I am also related to Chuck Norris, John Piper, Third Day, Chris Tomlin and a host of other famous people.
I am like the crazy old aunt who shuffles around makes pickled beets and wears Nordic sweaters all year long.
 I accept this.
Here is a link to Randy's blog about "Timmy" today.


    

The home stretch

You've almost made it!
The way I see it, you are all divided into two camps: those who are waiting for a puppy to come home and those who are quite tired of all the puppy talk.
This is the home stretch.
Here are pictures to cap off the the Season of the Puppy, aka the Dog Days.

Niece Maddie cuddling with a new little friend. Maybe not so little.

This is where Maddie slept while she was here. It is the guest room, after all.

Puppy kisses. So sweet.

Maximus and Lockjaw chillin'.

Because I'm a giver...

It  has been arduous couple months around here. What with all the roly-poly puppy wrestling, breaking up puppy squabbles (ahem, Samantha),  eating puppy meals family style 3-4 times per day, puppy poo, friends visiting and children playing and hugging puppies, it has been a delightful but tiring season.
When you try to fit running a business, family and Christmas in around puppy time, things move fast.
So it was time to schedule a puppy vet visit/day spa and just rejuvenate.
We needed some quality "Me" time.
All the puppies were up for it and, with Reader Brenda's indispensable help, we loaded everyone up into the SUV and headed into G-Town.
 It was a quiet and uneventful trip and we enjoyed Christmas music along the way. While it was not exactly Silent Night, nobody was Rockin' Round the Christmas Tree. It was all good.
 Joy to the World.

Everyone is in excellent good health, although one of our little girls had a bit of a cloudy eye due to an eye infection when she was a week old, she is just fine, improving and no treatment is needed. The pups weigh from 8.00 lbs (Samantha) to 11.80. (Maximus)

Sure, we can play in here...but what's out THERE?

Zeus checking out the Vet's office

Brutus looking concerned with the vet and his super-assistant.

Ebony with Dr. Richards having her eye checked.

Lockjaw looking slightly concerned.

Poor, worried Maximus being examined.

Whoa, what a puppy! Dr Richards and his amazing assistant, Amy check out Brooklyn.

Random group shot.

Reader Brenda gets some snuggle time with itty bitty little Maximus.

Ebbie being held by the world's best vet assistant. And best daughter. Did I mention Amy is my girl? :-)

Brooklyn needed to be sedated (NOT!!) during his mani-pedi. They were so relaxed during this visit it was unbelievable.

Max lounging after his mani-pedi. Yep, these pups just need to rein it in and calm down.

Brutus really needed to be heavily restrained during his spa treatments.

Samantha resting after the exam. They obviously were very traumatized by their first vet visit. :-)

Uh-oh

We work hard to desensitize your puppy to every possible situation. You never know when your pup will run into a cartoon character.
It could happen.
Now they are ready.

Happy 302nd!!

This is my 302nd post.
I thought we should celebrate.
A puppy video would enhance the party atmosphere.
Maybe it will even make this headache go away.
Here ya go.

Because I care.