31 January 2008

How To Analyze Your Own Handwriting

As I've mentioned in earlier writing, I studied handwriting analysis for quite a few years. It's fun! It's informative! But it can also be dangerous if you decide to analyze your friend's handwriting and tell her/him all the negative qualities you see! So be careful with this "little bit of knowledge" contained in this article! It's not worth losing a friend over, that's for sure. Analyze your own handwriting.

Graphology (handwriting analysis) is like analyzing body language, only it's looking at your handwriting samples. The analyst takes a combination of strokes, slants, pressures, rhythms, and patterns in your handwriting. Then the analyst comes to a conclusion based on the combination (or patterns). But if you know just a little, you can figure out what you are projecting to the world through your own handwriting. Here is some fun information to get you started as you look at handwriting you have already done. (Otherwise, you'll be influenced by your new knowledge and write differently than you normally would.) So are you ready to learn just a bit about handwriting analysis? OK! Let's talk about what real graphologists would look at!

They look at the slant of your writing.

Right slant indicates a response to communication. You're more emotional, more friendly, loving and responsive. Those are the positives. But on the negative side, it could also mean you're more manipulative, more intrusive, want to sell them something, or more controlling

If your handwriting is generally upright, this tells them you're pretty independent.

A left slant tendency shows emotion and reserve. This writer needs to be true to self first and foremost, and can be resentful if others try to push for more commitment from them.

So, left = self, or inward, and right = others, or outward.

They look at the size of your writing.

If your writing is large, you are an extrovert and you're outgoing. Or, it can mean that you put on an act of being confident.

Small size can, logically, mean the opposite. Small size handwriting can also indicate a thinker, concentrator, and an academic (depending upon other features in your writing sample).

If the writing is small and delicate, you are unlikely to be a good communicator with anyone other than those on your own particular wavelength. You do not generally find it easy to break new ground socially.

They look at the pressure of your writing.

If your pressure is heavy it tells them that you are a committed person who takes things seriously. But if your pressure is excessively heavy, it tells them that you can get very uptight at times and react immediately to what you perceive as criticism. In other words, you react first and ask questions later. Light pressure shows sensitivity to atmosphere and empathy to people, but can also, if the pressure is uneven, show lack of vitality. In short, the more the pressure of your writing, the more intense you are.

Think of the page in three zones. Where your vowels go is the middle (on the line). Above that is called the upper zone (above the line) and here's where you show how ambitious you are, how realistic, how spiritual you are, and how critical you are of your self.

The lower zone (below the line) shows how sensual you are, how open to relationships you are, how patient and emotionally secure you are.

Recapping the upper zone (l, t, h)

Tall upper stroke in your writing are reaching towards goals and ambitions. Or, if they are extremely tall, it means you have unrealistic expectations of yourself. But if they are reasonably proportioned, you like to think things through and use your imagination in a "sensible" way. Upper loops also tell how spiritual you are!

Recapping the middle zone – on the line writing (a, c, e, o)

These middle zone shapes are called your "communication circles." Some say it represents the ego, so the information tells them how you feel and act in public settings and what makes you tick socially and at work.

All of these features have potentially positive and negative connotations; the analyst uses the flow and facility (ease, smoothness) of the script to infer a positive or negative interpretation of who you are.

There are also several "styles" of communication circles.

If your writing is Arcade Style, this means that the middle zone of the writing is humped and rounded at the top like a series of arches. It's circular. If you write this way, you can be loyal, protective, independent, trustworthy and methodical. Conversely, you could also be secretive, stubborn and hypocritical when you choose. But the most important characteristic is group solidarity against outsiders.

Garland Style writing is like an inverted 'arcade' and is a people-orientated script. These writers make their m, n and h in the opposite way to the arcade writer - like cups, or troughs, into which people can pour their troubles or just give information. The Garland writer enjoys being helpful and likes to be involved. It is a common style among teenagers.

Angled Style in the middle zone is the analytical style - the sharp points, rather than curves, give the impression of probing. You are extremely analytical by nature. If you are an angle writer, you're better off employing your talents at work, for business or project purposes, rather than nurturing. (Nurturing is the strength of the garland writer.) I call the angled writing "spiky, or pointy."

Thread handwriting is like unraveled wool, waiting to be made up into something fresh. These writers are mentally alert and adaptable, but can also be elusive and lack patience. They are responders, rather than initiators. They can be very clever at drawing together strands of information and making something of them. Therefore they observe and bide their time, so that decisions are made at the most appropriate moment.

Wavyline Style is often a combination of all or most of the other forms and is usually written by people who are mentally mature and skillful. It shows that they can call on a variety of responses, to suit the occasion and indicates good coping mechanisms. They are adaptable and resourceful.

Tepees – Beware of Tepees! This has proved invaluable for employers and prospective daters. If your communication circles, including "c, o, a, g" have little tepees on the tops of them, you are very dishonest! Let's just take the o. If there's a line on the left of the o, going to the top, it shows self dishonesty. In other words, you lie to yourself, or you're deluded. (Remember: left = self) If there's a line on the right of the o, coming from the top down, you are dishonest towards others. (Remember: right = others) So you can see if that person you're dating has both the left and right lines coming to a tepee on the top of the o, you could be dating a pathological liar!

Recapping the lower zone – Loops or no loops! (g, y, p, q)

Those lower loops are varied and have different meanings.

A straight stroke (no loop) shows impatience to get the job done.

A 'cradle' lower stroke suggests an avoidance of aggression and confrontation.

A full loop with heavy pressure indicates energy/money-making/sensuality possibilities, when combined with other features.

A full lower loop with light pressure indicates a need or wish for security.

If the lower stem comes down and then left, you are stuck in the past.

If you have a wide variety of widths and strokes, you feel unsettled and unfocused emotionally.

They definitely look at your word spacing!

They judge the width by the width of one letter of your writing.

Wide spaces between your words are saying, "give me breathing space!"

Narrow spaces between your words show a desire to be with others, but could also mean that you crowd people and can be intrusive, especially if the writing lacks finesse.

They look at your line spacing!

Handwriting samples are always best on unlined paper, because your line-spacing needs to be obvious. Wide-spaced lines of handwriting show a wish to stand back and take a long view. Conversely, closely-spaced lines indicate that that you operate close to the action. For writers who do this and who have writing that is rather loose in structure, the discipline of having to keep cool under pressure brings out the best in them.

Page margins are important, believe it or not!

The left side margin shows the roots and beginnings/family. (left = self)

The right side shows other people and the future. (right = others)

The top is your goals and ambitions.

The foot of the page shows energy, instincts and practicality.

If you have a wide left margin, your interest is in moving on. If it is narrow, you are cautious and want to avoid being pushed before you are ready!

If your right margins are narrow, you're impatient and eager to get on with things! Conversely, if your right margins are wide, you could be harboring some fear of the unknown.

This introduction to graphology is meant only to be entertaining, and to increase your awareness of what your writing could say to a graphologist. It isn't meant to be the last word on graphology! When a qualified graphologist analyzes your writing, you will be asked to submit approximately thirty pages of handwriting. And you'll pay anywhere from $50 to $1,000, depending on their reputation.

So now you're ready to have fun! Enjoy analyzing your own handwriting with this smidgen of information!

© 1989-2008 April Lorier | Related Links
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30 January 2008

Grandma's Angels Watching Over Me

I can't think of a more inappropriate place to receive the news. Standing in a loud, smoke-filled casino, obsessively feeding money into the one-armed bandits, hope to leave Las Vegas and return to California as the richest twenty-six year old lady of 1970. I laugh as I watch Little Richard swish past me in his Elizabeth Arden make-up and uni-sex ruffled tuxedo. And then I hear myself being paged over the p.a. system. Mother, from her phone in El Paso, has summoned the State Highway Patrol in Nevada to track me down and give me the news. She wants me to know--right away--she has lost her mother-in-law. I feel tentacles of fear seize my stomach. She has lost only a mother-in-law. I have lost the only woman who ever understood me -- The only woman who touched me with tenderness. I have lost my trusted connection to God, and, quite possibly, the Angels Watching Over Me.

As I hold the phone in my hand, I am only half-aware of Mother's non-stop voice. My mind travels back to a safe place of comfort and unqualified love -- to a time when I learned about the angels: the summer of '55.

= = = = = = = = = =

Grandma lived in Shabbona, population 487, where the main attraction was a railroad track that enabled the passenger train to barrel through the village eight times a day. Two summer weeks out of every year were spent traveling from New Mexico to Illinois to stay at Grandma's white wood-paneled house with green shutters and green porches. The lush green lawns and bright flower gardens that surrounded her two-story house were always a welcome sight after being cooped up in the cramped station wagon for four days. There were dozens of family members to visit once we arrived; but Grandma was always the one with whom I wanted to spend private time.

This summer I was eleven and I had grown two inches. I knew Grandma would notice. As Daddy turned down the familiar dirt driveway and honked the horn, my skin broke out in goose bumps. I knew what was coming, and while my sister and I acted like we didn't enjoy all the "slobbering” and folderol, we both secretly enjoyed the fuss Grandma made over seeing us again. I had already decided I would be the last one out of the car this year. That way, my hugs and kisses would last longer than everyone else's.

I laughed as I watched Grandma squeal with delight, smothering everyone else with wet kisses and warm, firm hugs. When I saw everyone else had been celebrated, I jumped out of the station wagon, running straight into Grandma's arms. Even at eleven, I was taller than my short, soft Grandma, and had to bend over to receive all the kisses.

"Look, Grandma: I’ve grown!" I squealed nervously.

"Oh, sweet Jesus, you surely have!" Grandma said as she held me at arm's length to have a good look. Her eyes were shiny with tears of joy and her spectacles were all spotty. Her hazel eyes crinkled as she looked me over from head to foot, much like a mother dog inspects each precious puppy.

"Child, you have your father's eyes and Your Grandpa’s chin. You get prettier every time I see you!" she whispered as she stroked my sun-streaked hair and looked at me with too much love. I felt my body tensing and I knew I needed to change the subject quickly.

"Do you have ginger cookies, Grandma?" Actually, I knew Grandma always had ginger cookies hidden in her cellar, but it was the only question I could think of that would divert her attention away from me. I had waited all year for her affirming attention, and now I was uncomfortable with it.

"Child, your Grandma always has cookies, but first we'll eat supper. You must be starved to death after such a long trip!" Grandma turned to go up the stairs when her gaze fell to my arms. "Child, what happened here?" she asked as she pointed to the belt-shaped bruises on my arms.

I nervously glanced at Mama before stammering, "Uh-I-I fell off my bike, Grandma. I was hurt real bad, but now I'm OK. Can we eat now, Grandma?"

Grandma looked first at Mama, then at Daddy. Neither said a word. Grandma clicked her tongue and then got real quiet as she pulled out the leaves on her kitchen table.

That night as Grandma was tucking me into her fluffy feather bed, we talked about being poor. I whispered that we were poor and I wished we weren’t.

"Oh, shush, child. There's no dishonor in being poor. Our Savior was poor, Himself. There's only dishonor in being dishonest...or lazy." Grandma looked like her thoughts were far off, and she closed her eyes like she was praying. Her eyes were still closed when she asked me a strange question:

"Do you know you have angels watching over you?"

"I do? Where are they?" I was intrigued at the thought of real angels hovering over me.

"Oh, you won't see them, but they're there. Every night before your Grandma gets into bed, I kneel and ask God to send His angels to watch over you: To protect my girls -- especially you, Child."

"Really? I've never seen any of them. How do you know they're there?"

Grandma didn't respond to my question, but started muttering to herself. I heard what she said, though. She said something inside her had always known I needed the protection of angels, but until tonight she hadn't understood why. She stroked my back and I winced in pain. She pulled up my pajama top and gasped in horror.

"How in Heaven's name did you get all of these welts on your back, child? Who beat you like this? It wasn't my son, was it? Couldn't have been my son. He was different from his brothers. He never fought like they did. It wasn't him, was it?" Grandma was getting upset now, and I felt like I was the cause.

"No, Grandma. It wasn't him, but I can't tell anymore. Mama says we're not allowed to show people our dirty laundry. If I tell you anymore secrets, God will punish me."

"Did your Ma tell you that? Did she say God would punish you if you told how you get beat?"

"She said God watches everything I do. He knows every bad thought I think, and He sees every bad thing I do. She said He'll punish me if I tell our secrets."

"Oh, no, child," Grandma cried as she put her arms around me. "I thought I was the only one."

"Did you get beat, too, Grandma?"

"Your grandpa beat on me until I was thirty five. Then one day, he just stopped hitting me. But he never quit beating on his sons till they left home -- all but your Pa. He never beat on him." Grandma held my head close to her heart and I smelled the rose water she splashed on that morning. I was scared, but I felt safe in her arms.

"Child, I want you to hear what I'm telling you," she said in a stern voice. "I don't know why your Pa isn't protecting you. If you lived closer to me I could protect you, but you don't. I can't be with you, but Jesus is always with you. Even if you can't see Him, He's everywhere you are. Not to punish you, but to protect you. He has ten thousand angels who do what He tells them to do. I've only asked Him to send four to you. When you sleep, they stand by your bed to protect you as you sleep. When you're at school, they walk on each side of you. Jesus loves you, Girl. He loved you even before you were born. He didn't allow Himself to be put on that cross just so He could punish you! If you had been the only person in the world, He still would have died on the cross for you so you could be accepted by God, just like you are. Jesus don't have a big belt in His hands, child! He has arms like Grandma's arms that reach out to accept you just as you are, with no fixing up. . Do you believe what I'm telling you?" Grandma looked deep into my eyes as she waited for my response.

"If you say it, I believe it, Grandma," I whispered through my tears.

"Now look, child. You have good Dutch blood flowing through those veins of yours. You're a strong girl, and whatever you have to endure, you can endure as long as Jesus’ angels protect you. You might have to take some beatings for a while, but you will not die from them. I don't know why Jesus allows us to be hurt, but anyone who lives has some kind of burden to bear. Jesus won't let anyone kill you. As long as I have breath in my body, I'll be praying for extra angels to watch over you. As long as I'm alive I'll be on my knees for you. And when I'm gone, Jesus will still be there answering my prayers....."

= = = = = = = = = =

Now, standing in the noisy casino, I am once again aware of my surroundings. I hang up the phone and walk slowly through the casino, heading for the bathrooms. I walk past dozens of old women parked in front of their slot machines, nickels in their coffee cans. I bump into the cleavaged blonde hanging on the drunken bald man, and I smell the odor of stale cigarette butts and warm beer. I see Little Richard with his red lips and hear his red acrylic nails banging on the piano as he screams "Good golly, Miss Molly, sure love to ball." I look at the faces of the young prostitutes working the room, and I wonder if they have angels watching over them. I see blurred painted faces turning ugly with greed and then panic, as money is lost. I hear shrill female screams and shrieks as the dice are rolled to decide their fate. A stumbling three-piece-suit sways into my path and asks me how much I'd charge for a good time. I feel how much Grandma would hate this place, and my stomach begins to heave. I need to be alone. I need to escape the insanity of this brightly-lit insane asylum. I run to escape the inmates and find sanctuary in an empty stall just in time to puke into the toilet.

Alone in my stall, I am not alone. For the first time, I actually feel the presence of Grandma's angels. Two of them stand guard at each corner of the stall as liquid escapes from every orifice of my body. Oddly, nobody knocks at my stall for hours. Unable to cry for fifteen years, I open the backed-up floodgates and it is hours before they close again. This time they will not stay closed forever. This time I feel the angels protecting me, and I know Grandma’s prayers are still being answered. Now I can trust God.

(c)2001-2007 April Lorier | Related Posts
Please note: This is an excerpt from my book
God's Battered Child
and is copyrighted.

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Is There Anyone of My House He Can Bless?

Winner of SearchWarp.com Writer Award 2007

Mama felt as if her life was over when Daddy dropped dead at the age of 46. What was her role if she couldn't be a pastor's wife anymore?

But, in true form, she persevered, carving out a ministry for herself in the poorest areas of El Paso, Texas, though she spoke no Spanish.

Decked out in her fuzzy slippers, she went door-to-door, inviting prostitutes and drug addicts to Sunday Morning Worship Service at the Spanish-speaking church where she was pianist.

She was a sight to behold in her already-wrecked 1978 Dodge two-door coupe. Designed to fit five comfortably, it often arrived at the church with a dozen people cramped like sardines. Mama would yell, "Skinny ones have to sit on the laps of the fatter ones!"

No one knows how many people Mama brought to Jesus, but in 1995, I had a good idea when I spoke at her funeral. Even before I arrived in El Paso, people were calling me at my home in California to tell me how their lives had been changed because my mother had introduced them to Jesus.

Once in El Paso, hundreds were coming to her house to hug the daughter of "Hermana Alicia" who had told them how Jesus could raise them up out of their dissolute lifestyles.

Mama was afraid of dying a prolonged cancer death as her own mother had, so the way she left this earth was a blessing from God.

She left church after choir practice on a Sunday Evening, and crossed the road to get to her car when a vehicle without lights hit her and left the scene. I thought it somewhat appropriate that she would go straight from church to Glory.

During the last ten years of her life, Mama had serious money problems. As her health failed and the rent went up, she couldn't offer as many piano lessons as she wanted. Her tiny Social Security check just couldn't be stretched far enough.

She needed trifocals, but couldn't afford them. I kept sending money, but with three children of my own, money was scarce even for me. Finally, God showed me, through His Word that I was to tithe to Mama. And so I did.

From California , I developed the habit of calling Mama every Sunday night at 8:00 as the "Murder She Wrote" theme music began. Mama always mentioned another life that had been changed through Jesus, so she was always in a good mood. And she always bragged about her great car that could hold a dozen sardines! But one night she seemed despondent.

She had learned that my sister had $50,000 stolen from her teacher's retirement fund. Mama felt terrible because she had nothing to leave the two of us after she was gone. She said she felt "tacky". I heard her pain, but more importantly, God heard her.

Mama's funeral was so big it had to be moved to the largest church in El Paso, which could hold five thousand people. There were relatives, Christians from the churches my father had pastored, and then there were hundreds of spiritual children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren whose lives had been changed because of Mama.

The sea of transformed faces thrilled me as I spoke on behalf of my mother. Afterwards, I heard story after story of how "Hermana Alicia" had ministered to them. I felt as though I was soaring on wings of eagles.

As my sister and I were disposing Mamas belongings, I found years of calendars on which Mama had written every detail of her life. My sister wanted me to throw out all the calendars she had saved, but something stopped me.

Mama had written down every time I had called her, every score from every Chicago White Sox game, and numerous other details. Her writing was minuscule, so I used a magnifying glass to read the 1995 calendar.

She died March 20, so I flipped back to February and felt a chill creep up my back. There, under the month was written my name in large letters, followed by Psalm 32:8 . Quickly, I got out my Bible and read,
I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will guide you with My eye upon you.

Chills consumed me. What was she saying? It was then I saw Mama's notation under the scripture reference. Good for two months only . Underneath it was an 800 number.

Imagine my shock when I called and was told that Mama had accepted one of those offers, through her tiny Visa, for accidental death insurance. Visa paid the first two months, and if she decided to keep the insurance, the monthly charge would be placed on her credit card.

She never planned to pay for it, but because she had grown up during The Great Depression, Mama
never turned down anything "free".

Insurance paid my sister and me $100,000! My sister replaced the $50,000 that had been stolen from her teacher's retirement fund, and I was more than repaid for all the tithes I had sent to Mama.

In addition, Mama's car insurance paid $50,000, which let me give a large amount to The Gideons (all who work for free supplying Bibles to hospitals, prisons, military units, and hotels), plus I had money left over to help the down-and-outers Mama loved so much.

There's no doubt in my mind that Mama was greeted with, "Well done, My good and faithful servant".

I remember reading how King David asked, Is there still anyone who is left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan's sake ? I knew in my heart that my sister and I were blessed because of Mama's faithful service with the little that she possessed on this earth.

Now I ask myself: Will God be able to bless
my children, based on my service?
(c)2001-2008 April Lorier | Related Posts
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Families: Only God Can Make A Tree

I have not met anyone who has not experienced violence or loss within their family tree. And yet the tree survives! This poem is dedicated to all those family members who keep on loving, helping, and praying for their members. God will grow your tree!

1994 Winner of Inspirational Poetry Award

from Texas Poets Society (Dallas)



Our Battered Family Tree

How wide our tree, how deep its roots!

We have known neglect, drought, floods,

tornado's efforts to uproot us, steel blades'

attempts to chop us down, and still, we stand!


Long ago--whether deliberate or accidental, I do

not know--we were planted in the soil, warmed

and scorched by the sun, refreshed by God's rains.

Birds built nests of life in our branches.


Critters brought seeds from other trees

and dropped them in our soil. Branches were

grafted in, adding to our divergent foliage,

while others, damaged, fell to the ground.


Soon we bore not only nuts and berries, but

succulent fruits and prickly cones and thorns.

Oh the history that could be told by our tough

bark, strong trunk, and hardy branches!


Taller trees tried to deprive us of warm rays,

tepid showers, and room to spread our branches;

Bushes tried to crowd us from the bottom, while

strong-toothed critters chewed on our wood.


We have survived acts of man, beasts and God.

We have reproduced, though often infested,

and our tree stands taller and generations wider.

Truly, the poet knows the secret to our strength:

Only God can make a tree.

Copyright 1994 - 2007 April Lorier | Related Posts

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My Morning Choice in the Quiet

It's quiet. It's early. My coffee is hot. The world is waking up. The day is coming. In a few moments the day will be as bright as this east window.

The stillness of the morning will be exchanged for the noise of the day. The calm of the solitude will be replaced by the pounding pace of the human race. The refuge of the early morning will be invaded by decisions to be made and deadlines to be met.

For the next twelve hours I will be exposed to the day's demands. It is now that I must make a choice.

Because of Calvary, I'm free to choose. And so I choose.


I CHOOSE LOVE!

No occasion justifies hatred; no injustice warrants bitterness. I choose love. Today I will love God and love what God loves.

I CHOOSE JOY!

I will invite my God to be the God of circumstance. I will refuse the temptation to be cynical...the tool of the lazy thinker. I will refuse to see people as anything less than human beings, created by God. I will refuse to see any problem as anything less than an opportunity to see God at work.

I CHOOSE PEACE!

I will live forgiven. I will forgive so that I may live in freedom from bitterness.

I CHOOSE PATIENCE!

I will overlook the inconveniences of the world. Instead of cursing the one who takes my place, I'll invite him to do so. Rather than complaining that the wait is too long, I will thank God for a moment to pray. Instead of clinching my fist at new assignments, I will face them with joy and courage.

I CHOOSE KINDNESS!

I will be kind to the poor, for they are alone. Kind to the rich, for they are afraid. And kind to the unkind, for such is how God has treated me.

I CHOOSE GOODNESS!

I will go without a dollar before I take a dishonest one. I will be overlooked before I will boast. I will confess before I will accuse. I choose goodness.

I CHOOSE FAITHFULNESS!

Today I will keep my promises. My debtors will not regret their trust. My associates will not question my word. My husband will not question my love. And my children will never fear that their mother will not come home.

I CHOOSE GENTLENESS!

Nothing is won by force. I choose to be gentle. If I raise my voice, may it be only in praise. If I clench my fist, may it be only in prayer. If I make a demand, may it be only of me.

I CHOOSE SELF-CONTROL!

I am a spiritual being. After this body is dead, my spirit will soar. I refuse to let what will rot rule the eternal. I choose self-control.

I will be drunk only by joy.
I will be impassioned only by my faith.
I will be influenced only by God.
I will be taught only by Christ.

LOVE, JOY, PEACE, PATIENCE, KINDNESS, GOODNESS, FAITHFULNESS, GENTLENESS, AND SELF-CONTROL...

To these I commit my day. If I succeed, I will give thanks. If I fail, I will seek God's face. And then when this day is done, I will place my head on my pillow and rest.

Galations 5:22-23a But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control...

(c) 2007 April Lorier | Related Posts
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Releasing Your Prodigal Child To God

It takes every ounce of fiber in you to refrain from intervening. You must be willing to let go of her as she self-destructs because it's what she wants. Out of love for her, you behave in the very manner that is so repugnant to you: you do nothing.

For eighteen years it has been your responsibility to do: with her, for her, because of her. Your duty, as you perceived it, was to stay involved in her life. Your duty, now, as she perceives it, is to stay out of her life.

When did it all begin to change? When did she suddenly decide that she didn't need the very mother to whom she used to cling? That child that would rather die than hurt her mother-- where is she now?

You wonder if you held her too closely. You doubt your judgment in telling her how special she was: maybe it was too much for her to live up to. Loneliness covers you like gauze as you wonder who it is she tells her secret dreams to. You hope she still has dreams.

You think you must have felt it coming: that time when you would have to set her free; but you thought it would be more amiable. You agree that every person has the right to self-determinism; but as you watch her acting out her lack of self-respect, you realize you only believed that in theory.

You remember how you talked of her future with expectant hearts. She had so much going for her. You thought you had happy productive days planned. Did she find something more desirable -- something she was more comfortable with than success? You search for clues that would have allowed you to see how much she hates herself, but none come forward.

You try not to show your repulsion as you look at the sleazy dress that almost covers her amply endowed breasts and buttocks. A lump lodges in your throat as you try to find those beautiful soft, brown eyes amidst the purple and green eye shadows packed on her lids. You're repelled by her tattoo-covered legs, and you're relieved she doesn't offer to kiss you with those blood-red, over-lined lips.

You remember how she used to sit on the floor with her head in your lap so you could stroke her soft, shiny brown hair. What provokes this memory is looking at the teased, gelled, punked-out mess that sits atop her head in flagrant defiance.

She informs you she has a right to live her own life no matter how shabby it is. Her declarations of independence spew out like venom and head straight for your heart. You wonder who is this person is as her once-radiant face now contorts into the ugliness of anger.

Is this the same child whose face lit up as she sang "Jesus Loves Me," who memorized scriptures voluntarily? Is this the same girl who seemed to understand spiritually mature principles of scripture at a young age?

Friends who hardly spoke to you before, now find it necessary to report when and where they've seen her--and with whom. What makes them think you want to be reminded of her dissolute lifestyle?

Now you know what a cornered animal feels like. You cannot step in and fix things as you've always done -- she won't allow it. For her sake, you won't even try. It would only make her more dependent on your judgment, on your experience, and you cannot deprive her of her own experience.

You dare not send her any messages that cause her to believe she's incapable of being her own person.

No, any intervention at this point, would only prolong the inevitable: she would find it necessary to tear away from you later, perhaps then, tearing bigger pieces of both your hearts.

Now you wait for her to find herself -- to find you again. You pray it happens before she destroys the child you love. You wonder how long it will take, and if you'll still be alive.

And then you remember that Isaiah 54:13 promises that your children shall be taught of the Lord.

And you are reminded in Philippians 2:6 that He who began the good work in [her] will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.

And you realize that, like Hannah who kept her promise to God and turned her only son over to Eli and his wicked sons, you have to trust God to protect your child, even in the midst of a wicked world.

You ask yourself if God is still in control, and you determine He is even if it doesn't feel like it. You lie down and sleep the sleep of peace knowing you have planted The Seed, and God is able to do the rest.

You rest in the Sovereignty of One who loves her even more than you do.

(c) 2008 April Lorier | Related Posts
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Meaning of Life: A New Thing!

(Winner of SearchWarp.com Writers' Contest 2007)
When I came to Jesus whole-heartedly, it was at the age of thirty. I had made a mess of my life and from the bottom I reached out to the same Jesus I had known and loved at the age of six. I knew I had no one else to turn to but Jesus. And, true to His character, He met me at my point of need.

I soaked up the peace and joy He gave like a parched desert plant welcomes refreshing rain. I hungered for His Word to the exclusion of all else in life, and scriptures I had memorized as a child began to take on whole new meanings for me. It was a honeymoon I'll never forget, and my Groom was generous with grace, mercy, and need-fulfillment.

As happens with all honeymoons, the cares of life began to creep in, and I began to grieve over my wasteland past. What bothered me the most was that I had known Jesus, accepted Him as my Savior, and then through the years had distanced myself from Him and His children. Sure, I had been hurt by family members, and by Christians, too; but the bottom line was that I had chosen to walk away from the Lordship of Christ.

I believed that everything done by a person before salvation was forgiven, but I had made a decision as a child to follow Jesus, and then I had reneged. I allowed myself to be tormented with condemnation and accusations until I could no longer sleep at night. Nightmares of laughing demons pointing fingers at me terrorized me in my sleep. For months I suffered with night terrors.

Then one day, tired of being tormented, I took out my Bible and opened it at random. I asked God to speak to me in a special way. The Bible fell open to Isaiah 43:18-19, and as I read the words they seemed to jump off the page and right into my spirit.

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.

Peace flooded my soul and I understood that God was the Redeemer of my past, present, and future. I knew He would cause all things (even my mistakes) to work together for His good. I couldn't go back and change anything I had done. All I could do was be part of the "new thing" God was doing on my behalf. He was the only One Who was able to make streams in the wasteland.

The way He quickened that scripture to my spirit had shown me that was what He intended to do: make streams in my wasteland -- do a New Thing with my mind, soul, spirit and life!

This was my first step toward moving out of the past into the glorious future God had planned for me. He reclaimed my life, showed me He was not the "accuser of the brethren," and started healing painful memories. Even though I had changed, God had not. He had been waiting there for me all the time, and it gave Him great pleasure to reclaim one of His lost sheep.

I asked Him that day to give me opportunities to help in the restoration of other discouraged, lost sheep, and He has done so. God's healing process goes on.

(c) 2007-2008 April Lorier
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Attitude-Changing Prayer: Looking at Hannah

Who was Hannah and why is her prayer important? Hannah was a barren woman in a time when not only the wife's worth, but the husband’s esteem was measured by how many sons they had. She was the wife of Elkanah, a man who had two wives.

Because Hannah was barren, he took a second wife, Peninnah, who bore four sons. Hannah was treated contemptuously by Penninah because of her barrenness. Penninah jeered and mocked Hannah relentlessly until Hannah could not even eat. It was not long before Hannah became, in her own words, bitter of soul. But she believed God answered fervent prayer! So in I Samuel 1:10-11 we read her prayer:

In bitterness of soul Hannah wept much and prayed to the LORD. And she made a vow, saying, "O LORD Almighty, if you will only look upon your servant's misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the LORD for all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head."

Sure enough, that night God "remembered Hannah"! (1 Samuel 19-20)

Early the next morning they arose and worshiped before the LORD and then went back to their home at Ramah. Elkanah lay with Hannah his wife, and the LORD remembered her.
So in the course of time Hannah conceived and gave birth to a son. She named him Samuel,
[literally "heard by God"] saying, "Because I asked the LORD for him."

Now Hannah had promised God that if He would give her a son, she would give the son back to God. By this she meant when the son was weaned at the age of three, she would make the long journey back to the Temple and leave her son with Eli, the Priest.

I've done considerable pondering over why a mother who was so grateful for the one son she had would be willing to leave him with Eli the Priest. But as I've dug deeper into the unhealthy family dynamics of that whole family, I have to say she was a very wise woman. She knew her son would be better off serving the Priest than he would be fighting off his half-brothers who would treat him as their own mother had treated Hannah.

The big day comes, and Hannah and three-year-old Samuel make the long walking journey to the Temple. She leaves her precious son with a Priest who, unbeknown to Hannah, had two evil sons living with him. In effect, Samuel was left in an even more sinful environment than the home into which he was born. And instead of crying, Hannah prayed a prayer of rejoicing. I will include only a small part of her prayer, taken from 1 Samuel 2.

Then Hannah prayed and said:
"My heart rejoices in the LORD;
in the LORD my horn
[strength] is lifted high.
My mouth boasts over my enemies,
for I delight in your deliverance.

"There is no one holy like the LORD;
there is no one besides you;
there is no Rock like our God."

I don't know about you, but I'm wondering if I could have been so joyful as I left my only son behind. Nevertheless, it provides a beautiful model for prayer, in my opinion.

Years ago, I began writing my prayers. I concentrate better when I write, and it enables to me reread my prayers many times. Also, I thought it would be a wonderful legacy to leave behind for my children. I looked at Paul's exhortation in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

So I determined to begin my prayer with praise. Who is God? Why is He worthy to be praised? Next would come gratitude. What are at least three things for which I am grateful today? Next would come my petition. What exactly was I asking God to do? This was not a time to speak in generalities! And finally, thanks for God's faithfulness to His Word and to me.

A funny thing happened when I disciplined myself to stick to this format: I began to become more positive in my thoughts, actions, and words. I expected less of people and more of God. It was similar to a reformatting of a computer's hard drive: negative out, positive in! An added bonus was that it made me hungrier to dig into the Word to learn all of the attributes of God Almighty! What a blessed Bible Study that became!

So, to recap, the format - this is great for a journal! - is:

  1. Praise for Who God is
  2. Gratitude for what He's blessed me with
  3. Specificity in my petition
  4. Thanks for His faithfulness to His Word and to me

Try it for a month and see if it makes a difference in your attitude! It's how Hannah prayed, and she's a wonderful example of humbleness and faithfulness to The Lord.

©2008 April Lorier
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29 January 2008

Christ First, Music Second - Phil Keaggy

I have always loved acoustic guitar music, especially if the artist knows the intricacies of complex melodic harmonies. Phil Keaggy is one of the top guitarists in the world, and has recorded over fifty albums. He’s a musical genius who is unbelievably humble. I was blessed to watch an interview with him today and it made me remember why I love music. It also made my spirit soar to hear him say, I was 100% musician, and then when I was born again, I belonged to Jesus before I belonged to my guitar. I feel, you can have Jesus without music and have peace. Conversely, if your music is without the Lord, your life, in my opinion, goes nowhere.

Talking specifically about his instrumental albums, he said, I’ve done a couple instrumental albums. One is still waiting in the wings, and this one, The Song Within. It has a lot of flavors of the Master and the Musician. There’s a thread that’s been woven throughout all the years, a melodic thread, and I think it comes from the same heart and spirit I have. It’s like it says even though our outer man decays, our inner man is renewed day by day. Jesus never gets old.

Phil Keaggy is one of the most admired guitarists in music today. His fans range from those who aspire just to be able to play Keaggy’s mistakes, to professional musicians who have been strongly influenced by his style. And in between are those who don’t play guitar, yet find solace in his beautifully penned lyrics and memorable melodies.

Phil’s solo career has spanned more than thirty years, and has included over fifty solo albums, both vocal and instrumental, as well as 8 releases with his band, Glass Harp. One of the most sought after studio guitarists, Phil also continues to sell out concerts all over the United States, with his ever-changing style, ranging from rock-and-roll to fully orchestrated instrumental compositions.

Born on March 23, 1951 in Youngstown, OH, the ninth of ten children, Phil grew up in a home filled with music. On Phil’s 10th birthday, his brother, Dave returned home with a Sears Silvertone guitar. That’s when the magic began.

Phil spent most of his younger days involved in music, and at the young age of 13, he joined his very first band, the Keytones. He later went on to join such local groups as The Vertices, The Squires, and the Volume Four, who later changed their name to New Hudson Exit.

But in 1970 everything changed. Phil’s band Glass Harp (with childhood friend John Sferra - now a dedicated Christian - on drums, and Dan Pecchio on bass) recorded their self-titled first album and people really began to take notice of this incredibly gifted guitar player.

By 1972, Phil saw his life going in a different direction, and made the tough decision to leave Glass Harp and pursue a solo career. His first solo album, What A Day was recorded in just a week’s time during January 1973. He married his sweetheart Bernadette that summer, and the following year, they moved to Upstate New York and joined a Church community called Love Inn.

During his years there, Phil took a break from recording his own music. It wasn’t until three years later in 1976 that Phil would record his second solo album, Love Broke Thru, which was soon followed by a string of albums, including the much-acclaimed instrumental album, The Master And The Musician.

With the Christian Music industry really beginning to grow, Phil won his very first Dove award in 1988 for his instrumental album, The Wind and the Wheat. Phil’s second Dove Award came in 1992 for his Celtic-influenced, Beyond Nature. Each year from 1998 to 2001, Phil has dominated the Instrumental Record category at the Doves, winning for Invention, Acoustic Sketches, Majesty and Wonder, and most recently Lights of Madrid. For three years in a row, Phil was voted one of the top fingerstyle guitarists by Guitar Player Magazine readers.

On May 07, 2007 - Phil completed an album for the Green Hill Music label called Acoustic Cafe. This CD featured Phil performing covers of some all-time classics from the Beatles, Bob Dylan, Billy Joel, Fleetwood Mac, and many more.

On August15, 2007 - Phil's album, Beyond Nature was voted #3 on the Top 100 Greatest Acoustic Guitar Albums and on September17, 2007 - Phil was inducted into the Gospel Music Hall of Fame.

These days, Phil Keaggy continues to delight audiences all over the US performing primarily acoustic shows, and occasional concerts with a band. He is aware that God gave him a calling to deliver the Gospel through his music, and for over 30 years, Phil Keaggy has been grateful to do just that, and will hopefully continue to do so for many years to come. I certainly hope so! I’m waiting for his next album with baited breath!

Submitted 2008 April Lorier | Related Posts

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28 January 2008

With Love for Clarissa

This is the way it goes, honey. Hold him close and enjoy every second. Soon he'll be a man!

You were six months old and full of fun.
With a blink of my eye you suddenly were one.
There were so many things we were going to do,
But I turned my head and you turned two.

At two you were very dependent on me,
But independence took over when you turned three.
Your third birthday, another year I tried to ignore,
But when I lit the candles, there weren't three, but four.

Four was the year that you really strived,
Why look at you now, you're already five.
Now you are ready for books and rules.
This is the year you go to school.

The big day came; you were anxious to go.
We walked to the bus going oh, so slow.
As you climbed aboard and waved goodbye,
I felt a lump in my throat and tears stung my eyes.

Time goes so fast, it's hard to believe
That just yesterday, you were home here, with me.
And tomorrow when the bus brings you home and you jump to the ground,
You'll be wearing your cap and graduation gown.

So I'm holding to these moments as hard as I can,
Because the next time I look,
I'll be seeing a grown man.
~Anonymous~

Submitted 2008 by Grandma April
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27 January 2008

Older Women, Younger Men - Ain't No New Thing!

These days we hear about older women, especially celebrities or women of means, pairing up with younger men. The attitude is that it’s chic, modern, and a new thing. I just smile when I hear that attitude being either articulated or implied. That’s because my head is full of stories by my godmother, Liliane, who was born in the Continent of West Africa, the Country of Guinea, and the Province of Kankan. [Images from Wikipedia.org ©Wikipedia]

Liliane’s parents were missionaries, living in West Africa. Her mother died when Liliane was young, of “black water fever” or malaria. So it was Liliane and her father who traveled from West Africa to France, and back to West Africa. She learned to speak French at a young age, which was good because both France and West Africa were French-speaking countries.

Guinea was created as a colony by France in 1890 with Noël Balley as the first governor. The capital Conakry was founded on Tombo Island in the same year. In 1895 the country was incorporated into French West Africa.

On 28 September 1958, under the direction of Charles de Gaulle, Metropolitan France held a referendum on a new constitution and the creation of the Fifth Republic. The colonies, except Algeria, which was legally a direct part of France, were given the choice between immediate independence or retaining their colonial status. All colonies except Guinea opted for the latter. Thus, Guinea became the first French African colony to gain independence, at the cost of the immediate cessation of all French assistance.

But Liliane lived in Kankan, and then Nigeria, during the 1930’s when there were basically three tribes. At that time, West Africa was a matriarchal society, ruled by women. It was women who had the “stuff” (property), made the decisions, and did all of the work. The responsibility of men was basically to father new children. (It reminds me that a similar hierarchy exists in every Lion’s Den: females bear cubs, hunt for food, and boss around the Lion. His job is basically to scare off intruders with his loud roar!)

A young man’s first wife was always an older woman with property who would teach him how to be a husband. Then, when the older woman passed, the young man would take his inheritance from her and find himself a younger girl to wed. Some of these marriages were arranged and had little to do with romance, but more to do with dowry paid by the older woman. It didn’t mean younger men didn’t have activity outside the marriage, or that the older women were monogamous, either.

So now, seventy-five years later, we see American women of means going for those young men and gloating over this new, modern, trend.It is not a new thing, by any stretch of the imagination. Solomon said it well in Ecclesiastes 1:9 (niv) What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.

So go on with your delusions, older women! You are only reverting back to West African traditions as you prance around with your young studs! You’re moving backwards, not forward!

©2008 April Lorier
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26 January 2008

Journaling - Healing from the Inside Out

I studied handwriting analysis, or graphology, as its known, for several years. Handwriting is a science, and is as unique as the science of fingerprint analysis. It is commonly used by businesses to weed out unwanted individuals during the hiring process. Investigators of crime will often bring in graphologists to determine forgery, or even character traits in a suspect (like the likelihood of dishonesty). Handwriting has always fascinated me, especially when I learned that even alcoholics are trained to write differently in order to change brain patterns.

So, when I was in therapy and my counselor asked me to keep a journal, and to make sure it was handwritten, I had an understanding of why she did not want me to type it on a computer. Handwriting changes the brain!

She gave me a leading sentence to start with, like all the men in my life have been…

Of course, I thought the subject was too broad, and I objected. But I did it because I wanted to break old patterns and become emotionally healthy.

She made it clear that this journaling was for my eyes only, and I should never share it with anyone. That gave me a perception of safety that enabled me to start.

She told me not to plan what I was going to write, not to second-guess or edit myself - a seemingly impossible request at the time - and to keep writing for at least fifteen minutes without stopping.

Something mysterious happens when you're writing automatically, without censoring yourself. As the hand writes, buried feelings and opinions come to the surface and you are genuinely shocked at what appears on the page! I'm not a brain specialist, so I can't explain what happens, but suddenly you're writing memories and feelings you never knew you had. Here's an example.

In the all the men in my life have been… exercise, my mind started in the present and worked backwards. Of course, Daddy was the one I finished with because he was the first man in my life. I was amazed at the number of men who had been in my life in one capacity or another, so a mere fifteen minutes per time was not enough time.

The conclusion I came to, as I saw definite patterns evolving on paper, was that most men in my life were weak in character and had used me to their own advantage. Wow! I had never seen that before! So what was the next logical question?

What has caused me to settle for weak men in my life?

What was the need *I* was trying to fill?

Do you see how this could turn into an autobiography? The only difference is that I would be the one learning about myself! One discovery leads to another, and another, and so on.

That's why I am now a believer in journaling. I'm not talking about a diary or an appointment book where you write what you did that day, or with whom, or what you need to do tomorrow. It's not about doing. It is more about being. It reveals the why of how you've always been, and the how of how different you can be with this new insight.

For example, I've taught my daughter to keep a journal of all the times God has provided for her in miraculous ways. It doesn't even have to be full sentences, just enough dated phrases to jog her memory down the road. That way, when she is discouraged, she can reread the “Blessing Journal” and regain her attitude of gratitude.

I will write more on journaling. This is just to introduce you to one of the blessings I have personally experienced in my life. There's plenty of data to back up what regular journaling does for us on all levels. We benefit physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. We even sleep better, and reduce our anxiety levels; but more about that later.

For now, it is enough to say journaling is one way to allow God to heal us from the inside out. And it costs only the price of a notebook or journal.

©2008 April Lorier

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25 January 2008

The Most Dangerous Place in the World for Christians

Canon Andrew White, known as the "Vicar of Baghdad," says Baghdad is the most dangerous place in the world for Christians. He says while conditions in Iraq's capital may be better, overall, he says they're still terrible.

"The two largest Christian neighborhoods of Dora and Karada are now void of all Christians," White said. "They had bullets put through their doors, they had letters warning them to leave, and they were given a choice - either you pay the Jizya tax or you convert to Islam, or we kill you. Of my church in Iraq, I have 1300 members in my church in Baghdad and we have only six men left. All the rest have been kidnapped or killed."

He says they serve Jesus in the midst of dismal circumstances.

Many Christians have had to leave their homes. They're now sleeping in churches, including the major Assyrian churches in Karada. They do not have food, they do not have water. They do not have rent money, and so being part of church and the work of church is not just providing a place for them to worship the Almighty. It is providing every need in life.

A Call to People in the West

White points out many Christians have returned to Baghdad simply because they're no longer allowed to stay in Syria or Jordan.

"People in the West should know we cannot survive without their help and their support. We need them at this time," he said. “We are brothers and sisters in Christ. It doesn't matter where you are in the world, these Christians belong to you. They love you and they see that they're part of a community and sometimes they say to me, 'why don't our brothers and sisters in the West help us?' And I say to them, 'I don't know.'"

A Bright Future Ahead

Despite the hard road, White sees a bright future for the Middle East. He says in Isaiah 19, the Bible predicts a holy highway will one day stretch from Egypt through Israel all the way to Assyria or modern day Iraq.

"I think that God is so involved here in this region, and the fact that God in His Son Yeshua Ha Mashiah will come back to this holy city of Jerusalem, we see that this whole region is intrinsic to God's plan and His purpose," he said. "Even though everything is terrible, even though everything we see is awful, I know that ultimately it's in the hands of The Almighty, and it's glorious."

In view of this situation, I urge all of my readers to pray for Christians in Baghdad. They know what it means to suffer for the cause of Christ in a way none of us do. Watching this interview with Chris Mitchell of Christian World News made me realize how easy we Christians in America have life in comparison to those in Baghdad.

Submitted by April Lorier 2008

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24 January 2008

Who Are The Happy People? Married People!

I’ve been reading studies lately that show married people of faith who are regular church attendees are, by far, happier than single, faithless, non-church goers.

According to a recent Gallup poll, the level of very satisfied
Americans in 2007 is the highest since 2001
.

Out of the Americans satisfied with their lives, 59 percent expressed they are very satisfied, while 25 percent say they are somewhat satisfied.

Those who attend church weekly, married adults, those in higher income households, whites, and Republicans are most likely to say they are currently satisfied and happy with their lives, according to the Gallup Poll.

A full 84 percent of Americans say they are satisfied with their personal lives, with 14 percent saying they are dissatisfied.

This level of satisfaction is consistent with past results measured by Gallup, which averaged about 82 percent.

Two-thirds of Americans who are married or attend church regularly report being very happy or very satisfied with life. The finding should not come as a surprise, according to Mike McManus with Marriage Savers.

“If you watch sitcoms like ‘Friends’ it seems that the happiest are the people jumping in bed with someone new every Friday night. But the data shows just the opposite. People who are faithful to each other and to the laws of God are the people who are happiest.”

Bob Lapine, co-host of Family Life Today, says the study does not mean married couples or Christians lack challenges.

“Everybody is going to have storms in marriage. What’s different is the foundation and that’s where I think we look to the Scriptures and to the Spirit of God to provide a stable foundation that helps our house stand in the midst of those storms.”

So what do I conclude from these polls? God’s ways still make people happier than the current mores of the world. It’s always been that way, and I think it always will be that way, no matter what we see on the media.

Psalm 37:4 teaches: Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart. Isn’t that the desire smoldering in the heart of each of us – to be be happy?

(c)2008 April Lorier
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23 January 2008

Television - Take Action For Your Children!

When my kids were growing up, they were severely limited in what they could and couldn't watch! Of course, they thought I was unreasonable, but I was also implacable. Now I'm not saying they didn't go to a friend's house and watch "Three's Company", but they did not watch it in my house! That was some years ago, and television programming has become sluttier and more offensive by the season since then. Even cartoons have been infected with the Sodom and Gomorrah filth. It's not enough to say, "You don't like it, flip the channel." Even the commercials have become offensive, and those come without warning, even during "safe" programs.

Did you know you, as a consumer, have the right to complain to the FCC? And if you did know this, but thought it wouldn't do any good, think again! You also have the power to write to television programs telling them you are boycotting all the products of their advertisers. It worked with Target and K-Mart when they forbad their associates to say "Merry Christmas" to customers, and it will work with television executives, too.

This is from Focus on the Family. I hope it will encourage you to become proactive as a parent, and as a consumer.
Complaints Pour into FCC Office

Grassroots make their voices heard about offensive TV content.

Diane Sawyer may have brushed off Diane Keaton's use of profanity on ABC's Good Morning America recently, but the American Family Association (AFA) did not.

“We sent out our alert, and as of a few minutes ago, 73,000 had filed a complaint with the FCC against their local ABC network station," said Randy Sharp, director of special projects for AFA.

During the first two quarters of 2007, complaints to the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) reached a peak of 148,000 in January.

Dan Isett, director of corporate and government affairs at the Parents Television Council, said the problems go beyond indecency.

“There’s still an enormous amount of offensive content that may not reach that legal definition of what’s indecent," he said. "There’s still lots of problems with television content.”

TAKE ACTION
The FCC has streamlined the process of filing a complaint.

Again, please become proactive for the sake of your children, and for their children.

Submitted 2008 April Lorier
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22 January 2008

Indiana - Traditional Marriage On The Line

This just in from Focus on the Family: Indiana Marriage Amendment is Stuck in Legislature!

Speaker of the House needs to hear from those who support traditional marriage.

Marriage advocates are optimistic the proposed Indiana marriage-protection amendment will pass the state Senate this week. However, it is likely to face harsh opposition when it reaches House Speaker Pat Bauer's desk.

“He has personally assured its death,” said Sue Swayze, program coordinator for the Indiana Family Institute. “He actually won an award from the ACLU (American Civil Liberties Union) a few years ago for killing it.”

Supporters of same-sex "marriage" say Hoosiers don’t care about marriage and are focused on property tax reform. Swayze said both property tax reform and a marriage amendment can be accomplished.

TAKE ACTION!

If you live in Indiana, urge House Speaker Pat Bauer to support the marriage amendment. You can find contact information through their Action Center.

Submitted 2008 April Lorier

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Moms, Are You Too Busy?

Today I'm thinking about how busy women have become. As women, we tend to take on too many tasks that either don't need to be done, or that could be done by someone else. Sometimes, we are reluctant to delegate because we want the job done right! And other times, we feel guilty asking for help. After all, aren't we supposed to be super women?

Several years ago, at a Writers' Conference, I met the most beautiful woman named Elisabeth Eliot. She oozed inner beauty. She has a memorable life story of her life in Ecuador, before and after her husband, Jim Elliot and four other missionaries were speared to death by The Aucas while ministering to the Quichua Indians. Last year a highly successful movie End of the Spear was released about Jim Eliot's life and his fellow missionaries who were speared to death in Aucan territory.

After Jim's death, Elisabeth returned with her daughter to minister to the same cannibalistic area for several years. I was intrigued beyond belief by this extremely intelligent and articulate woman who was 100% female. She has led a productive, colorful life, and spoke with a great deal of wisdom. I was privileged to be in one of this prolific Christian Writer's classes.

Here's what Elisabeth Eliot has to say about being busy:

"One reason we are so harried and hurried is that we make yesterday and tomorrow our business, when all that legitimately concerns us is today. If we really have too much to do, there are some items on the agenda which God did not put there. Let us submit the list to Him and ask Him to indicate which items we must delete. There is always time to do the will of God. If we are too busy to do that, we are too busy."

~ Elisabeth Elliot ~

Well said, Elisabeth! To read more about Elisabeth visit her website.

(c) 2008 April Lorier
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20 January 2008

Mental Illness: A Mother's Worst Nightmare

We hear much about bipolar disorder in the news these days. It is just one mental disease among many, but it seems the time we hear most about it is when some terrible crime has taken place. I know there are millions of families broken apart by mental illness. When one member of the family is ill, it has a profound effect on the rest of the family. In other words, mental illness is a family disease. (Most of these brain disorders have been around for a long time, but now they have new names. For example, Bipolar Disorder used to be called “Manic Depression”.)

When I was growing up, my best friend’s mother was mentally ill. She did very strange things before she was committed to a mental institution. For example, she would stay up all night washing the walls, ceilings, floors, dishes and clothes in pure bleach. (I learned never to drink out of any of those glasses!) My friend and her siblings all suffered, but learned to think of it as normal. Now, many years later, my friend accepts many things as normal that I never would, like having her grown children and their children living with her. My friend is in her sixties, and still, she is playing “Mommy”, just as she did in her family of origin where she was the oldest. Her mother was diagnosed as manic-depressive, along with a myriad of other mental problems. Obviously, she also had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). Such is usually the case with the mentally ill. They rarely have one problem, but several. Anxiety, OCD, suicidal tendencies, and many other disorders usually accompany bipolar disorder.

I have other friends (and a couple of relatives) who also deal with bi-polar disorder in their grown children. It has torn these families apart, or at least altered what used to be normal. Daughters and sons swing from quiet, sometimes loving people into bizarre vitriol and hatred against their parents, threatening to hurt or kill them, and all without any warning. Or they go to a dark bedroom for days on end, too debilitated by hopelessness to even eat. To say it makes life tense for these families would be an understatement! One relative just breaks my heart every time we talk. She has talked to numerous “experts”, but still can make no sense of her daughter’s unpredictable vitriol. What makes it so hard for her is that this daughter is extremely intelligent, talented, and extraordinarily beautiful (she is a model). This is often the case with the bipolar.

As we study history, we find out many of the most talented musicians, poets, writers, and artists were either bipolar or schizophrenic. They fluctuated from angry, suicidal depression to the polar opposite of feeling omnipotent. It was usually during the manic state that creativity flowed, either constructively or destructively. Often drug abuse caused their conditions to worsen. And many of them self-injured and/or committed suicide.

Remember Vincent van Gogh (the artist) and the infamous ear-cutting episode? He put the lobe of his left ear into an envelope and gave to a brothel wench named Rachel with these words: "Guard this object carefully." After he tried to drink a quart of turpentine in his studio, he was sent to the asylum at Saint-Remy on May 7, 1889. The doctors began to treat him with hydrotherapy for acute mania and epilepsy. A precise diagnosis of Van Gogh's illness is still unavailable, despite hundreds of conjectures. But mental illness was prevalent in his family.

Herschel Walker won a Heisman Trophy for the University of Georgia in 1982. He was third on ESPN's list of the greatest college football players ever, unveiled this year. But according to ESPN and the Atlanta Journal Constitution, Herschel Walker will reveal that he has multiple personality disorder in a book scheduled for an August release by Simon & Schuster. It is called “Breaking Free” and will cover Walker’s life with the disorder.

Mentally ill people operate at different levels of functionality. Some, high functioning, still live seemingly normal lives, at least in public. This is most likely when they are consistent with medications; however, not wanting to lose the “highs”, many bipolars either refuse, or quit taking the meds that would balance their moods. Other mentally ill people must be confined to institutions.

I once watched a person with bipolar disorder declare, arms outstretched, “God is standing before you today!” It takes a terrible toll on families, especially mothers, because it is the mother who is usually most affected by her baby’s behavior.

There are those who believe all brain disorders are nothing more than demon possession. These same people think epilepsy is also demon possession. They based their opinion on Matthew 17:14-16, 18

14 And when they had come to the multitude, a man came to Him, kneeling down to Him and saying, 15 “Lord, have mercy on my son, for he is an epileptic[a] and suffers severely; for he often falls into the fire and often into the water. 16 So I brought him to Your disciples, but they could not cure him.” ( a: Matthew 17:15 Literally moonstruck) 18 And Jesus rebuked the demon, and it came out of him; and the child was cured from that very hour.

I do hope reading about brain disorders will give you a different perspective on what seems to be a fearful or confusing subject. While parents must protect themselves, they must still exhibit love while trying to maintain equilibrium. Often, the mentally ill child will not accept the love; however, it is imperative that parents do not take this personally. Studying the subject of whatever disorder your child has will enable you to understand more and pray with understanding.

I have a friend, Charlene Collins, who is a retired nurse. She also has a mentally ill grown daughter, and she has written much about it. She has given me permission to refer to some of her articles in these pages. So if you are being affected by OCD, Bipolar Disorder, Schizophrenia, Dissociative Disorder, Epilepsy, or any other mental disease in your family, read on.

People who have mental illnesses are not crazy. They have a brain disorder. People with mental disorders don't just have one thing wrong with them; they have… Read more

What is Dissociative Identity Disorder? The illness is what is commonly called "multiple personality disorder" (MPD). This is a psychological disorder characterized by having one or more alter personalities... Read more

The Suicidal Mind [As a child, my own mother couldn’t study in school because she never knew if her mother had succeeded at suicide that day.] Read more

If you have an overwhelming drive to wash your hands, or to wipe off surfaces after someone touches them, spend several minutes adjusting a picture on the wall, or continually fixing the fringe of a throw rug, chances are you have a condition known as obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) Read more

Understanding People Who Self-Injure Read more

(Thank you, Charlene.)

©2008 April Lorier

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19 January 2008

Financial Woes, Biblical Answers!

Women, especially divorced or widowed women, are still near the bottom of the income level in our society, as well as many other societies. It is common knowledge that in most divorces it is the woman who suffers economically, not the man. There are, of course, exceptions, but they are just that: exceptions. This week, with Wall Street free-falling, I have been more conscious than ever of how fear creeps in and destroys my confidence in God’s provision.

As a divorced female, I have been meditating on how I can stay blessable by God. As a Christian, I know all of my blessings come from my Creator, even if they are passed through the hands of mortal people. I’ve been in 2 Kings 4 reading about the Widow’s Oil, and certain passages have been highlighted by God’s highlighter in my spirit. Here’s the story and what I gleaned from it.

1 The wife of a man from the company of the prophets cried out to Elisha, "Your servant my husband is dead, and you know that he revered the LORD. But now his creditor is coming to take my two boys as his slaves." [This was a common practice then: you owed a debt, they could take your children as payment.]

2 Elisha replied to her, "How can I help you? Tell me, what do you have in your house?" [I stopped and thought about what I have that could be used of God]
"Your servant has nothing there at all," she said, "except a little oil." [How often is our position that we have “nothing”?]

3 Elisha said, "Go around and ask all your neighbors for empty jars. Don't ask for just a few. [Get ready for a BIG blessing, girl!]

4 Then go inside and shut the door behind you and your sons. Pour oil into all the jars, and as each is filled, put it to one side." [No doubt in Elisha’s mind that each seed she sowed would grow into a harvest as God blessed her!]

5 She left him and afterward shut the door behind her and her sons. They brought the jars to her and she kept pouring. [Important: keep those vessels coming so you can keep pouring!]

6 When all the jars were full, she said to her son, "Bring me another one."
But he replied, "There is not a jar left." Then the oil stopped flowing. [The oil did not stop until there was no room to contain further blessing!]

7 She went and told the man of God, and he said, "Go, sell the oil and pay your debts. You and your sons can live on what is left." [all emphasis is mine]

I thought of people I know who are struggling financially, and I remembered there is one time when we are told to “test” the Lord. In Malachai 3:9-11 God, speaking of the tithe, said:

9 You are under a curse—the whole nation of you—because you are robbing me.

10 Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. [not just what we have left over, or what we “feel” we can give] Test me in this," says the LORD Almighty, "and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.

11 I will prevent pests from devouring your crops, and the vines in your fields will not cast their fruit," says the LORD Almighty. [So the blessing will not only be in what is received, but also in protection against what could be lost. Aha!] [All emphasis mine]

I wonder why we are so afraid to trust God like this?

1. Is it because we cannot see Him standing in front of us with our human eyes?

2. Is it because we have not been honorable in paying our debts, so we feel unworthy?

3. Is it because we’re so arrogant we believe we can work our way out of this financial mess all by ourselves?

4. Is it just plain ole’ selfishness over what we grasp?

5. Do we have a sense of entitlement over what we have earned?

6. Maybe we have seen professing Christian TV Evangelists abuse this scripture for their financial advantage?

7. Maybe we tried it once, for a month, and didn’t see an immediate result?

Whatever the reason, it is not a good enough reason when we’re at the bottom! Somehow, our perspective changes when we have no alternative left but to trust God and be obedient. I got no tee-shirt, but I’ve been there, done that! It’s amazing how our perspective changes when we have no one but God!

I pray 2008 will be a prosperous year for all my readers. I define prosperity not only in financial wealth, but in health (physical, emotional, mental and spiritual) and enjoyment in whatever it is that God has given you. I leave you with this blessing from 3 John 1:2

Beloved, I wish above all things that thou may prosper and be in health, even as your soul prospers. (KJV) [emphasis mine]

©2008 April Lorier

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18 January 2008

Genital Cutting: The Beliefs That Fuel It

As more people immigrate to America, they bring their customs and belief systems with them. One custom, in particular, is not talked about much, and as a result we, as Americans do not know what is going on with females. It is the custom of Female Genital Mutilation (FGM), sometimes called Female Genital Cutting (FGC), or Female Circumcision (FC). Once we do hear rumors about it, most of us wonder why it’s both required and desired. What are the beliefs that compel both males and females to make sure girls are cut?

1. In most FGM societies one important belief is that this procedure will reduce a women's desire for sex and in doing so will reduce the chance of sex outside the marriage. This is vital to this society as her honor (for the family) is dependent on her to not be opened up prior to marriage.

2. Some view the clitoris and the labia as male parts on a female body! Therefore, removal of these parts enhances the femininity of the girl.

3. It is also believed that unless a female has undergone this procedure she is unclean. She will not be allowed to handle food or water, primary duties of the females.

4. Some groups believe that if the clitoris touches a man's penis the man will die! Also, they believe if a baby’s head touches the clitoris that the baby will die, or the breast milk will be poisonous, or both.

5. They believe that a female who is not mutilated cannot conceive! Therefore, the female should be cut in order to become fertile.

6. They believe bad genital odors (from urine, menstruation, or infection) can only be eliminated by removing the clitoris and labia minora.

7. They believe cutting actually prevents vaginal cancer.

8. They believe an unmodified clitoris can lead to masturbation or lesbianism.

9. They believe cutting will prevent nervousness from developing in girls and women.

10. They believe cutting prevents the face from turning yellow.

11. Men believe cutting makes a women's face more beautiful.

12. Older men may not be able to match their wives' sex drive, and rather than be humiliated, the men want females who have been cut.

13. Intact clitoris will generate sexual arousal in women. If the female must repress this arousal, it can cause nervousness in her.

It is estimated that 135 million girls and women that have gone through this procedure with an additional 2 million a year at risk.

This procedure is practiced in Africa (28 countries), Middle East, parts of Asia as well as in North America, Latin America, and in Europe. It is now believed that the practice originated in Africa and is a cultural practice.

Amnesty International now has taken up the fight to do away with this practice that mutilates millions of girls each year. Today FGM is seen as a human rights issue and is recognized at an international level. FGM was in the universal framework for protection of human rights that was tabled in the 1958 united Nation agenda. It was during the UN Decade for Women (1975-1985) that a UN Working Group on Traditional Practices Affecting the Health of Women and Children was created. This group helped to develop the 1994 Plan of Action for the Elimination of Harmful Traditional Practices Affecting the Health of women and Children.

The World Health Organization, the United Nations Children's' Fund and the United Nations Population Fund, unveiled a plan in April 1997 that would bring about a

major decline in FGM within 10 years and the complete eradication of the practice within three generations.

In 1994 a CNN broadcast of the circumcision of a 10 year old Egyptian girl by an unskilled practitioner drew international attention to the operation. A 500 million dollar lawsuit was brought against CNN for allegedly damaging Egypt's reputation; however, it was rejected by the courts.

In the West, the procedure is outlawed in Britain, Canada, France, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland and the United States. A US federal bill, Federal Prohibition of Female Genital Mutilation of 1995 was passed in September of 1996. Section 273.3 of the Canadian Criminal Code protects children who are ordinarily resident in Canada, (as citizens or landed migrants) from being removed from the country and subjected to FGM.

In the US and Canada, the very small percentage of immigrants who wish to continue the practice often find it impossible to find a doctor who will cooperate. The operation is often done in the home by the family.

Legislation against FGM can be counter-productive in some cases. It might force the practice deeply underground. Women may not seek medical care because their parents might be charged. That is why Christian ministries who are already in place and have gained the trust of the people seem to be the best hope for eradicating both the practice and the belief system that has kept the practice alive for 2,000 years.

I do hope you will search for one of these organizations and do your part to help. God cares about these females as much as He cares about American females.

[Please note: in researching this story, I used dozens of sources – too many to itemize.]

©2008 April Lorier

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17 January 2008

Pro-Lifers Celebrate New Report on Abortion!

The abortion rate in the U.S. fell to a 30-year low in 2005, according to the Guttmacher Institute, an affiliate of Planned Parenthood. In 1995, 1.2 million preborn babies were killed, compared to a high of 1.6 million in 1990.

During the 1980s, one in three pregnant women chose abortion; today, it's one in five.

The National Right to Life Committee (NRLC) said pro-life educational outreaches and legislative initiatives are to thank. Others give credit to the “morning after” pill.

Twenty-six states provide women seeking abortion with information about its risks and alternatives. Ten states allow women to view ultrasound images of their preborn child. In addition, 35 states have laws providing for parental involvement in a minor daughter’s abortion decision.

As a Christian, I feel credit must go to praying people who believe, according to Scripture, that to kill babies – babies can be born or preborn – is, an abomination to God, and therefore, sin. Yes, it takes people getting involved with the logistics of changing the law; however, there is more power in prayer than finite minds can grasp.

I celebrate this news today! It gives me hope for our country.

©2008 April Lorier

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16 January 2008

Gifts and Love: Greatest Valentine Ever!

Gifts can be dangerous. Kindness can make a receiver indebted to the giver. Such is the nervousness we may feel about accepting the offer of God. We're sure that the gift isn't offered without strings attached. We intuitively know that if we accept this gift we will end up in the grip of the Hand that offers it.

1. This gift is offered to all. He offers His gift to people of every nation and social status.

2. This gift is needed by all. We need this gift because its equivalent cannot be earned. We do not deserve acquittal of our sin. No one can merit eternal life through works.

3. This gift cannot be deserved. There is nothing we can do to earn the mercy, love, or forgiveness of God.

4. This gift has been paid for. It has been paid for in full and in our name. All legal debts can be canceled as soon as we accept the offer. Christ's life for our life; His rightness for our wrongs.

5. This gift must be accepted by faith. Without faith, this gift cannot be received. Only those who trust God know He is their only hope for both time and eternity.

6. This gift comes with strings attached. By receiving the gift we become subject to the lordship of Christ. We retain the capacity to choose for or against our Father at any time. But we must realize we've become moral and spiritual debtors to the One who loved us and gave Himself for us.

7. This gift cannot be lost. Loss or forfeiture is not a problem with the gift of God because it's been paid for and secured by what He's done for us.

8. This gift appreciates with time. Rather than running down with time, the gift of God - eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord - becomes the ultimate value and our most cherished possession.

9. This gift opens the door to other gifts. The gift of salvation is not the last gift God offers us. It's the first. Salvation from sin's guilt is only the beginning.

10. This gift can be shared. This particular gift is of such value and accessibility that to withhold information about where others can find it is an insult not only to the gift itself but to the Giver. Nothing is more important than pointing fellow travelers to the only place they can find rest, peace, and hope for their souls.

2008 April Lorier
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15 January 2008

Child Sex Slaves To The Gods? Do You Care?

Did you know that little African girls are taken from their parents to be "wives of the gods" in the southern Volta Region of Ghana, and in southern Togo and Benin? Thousands of young girls of the Ewe tribe are held as slaves in unspeakable conditions, victims of ritual abuse. The term "wives" does not mean they are treated with kindness or respect. No, they are there to fulfill the priests' demands for any kind of kinky sex demanded in these idol shrines. How do these girls end up here?

Many of them are taken just prior to adolescence, but many also are taken in early childhood—as young as four years old. Although the time they are supposed to serve in the shrine is sometimes defined in years, the price of exit is placed so high that most remain slaves all their lives, or until the priest no longer finds them desirable. Parents are usually accused of a crime, real or fictitious, and the child is taken in payment. Or the parents owe a debt (sometimes for badly needed medical procedures), and the child is taken in payment.

Some are second and third generation "human sacrifices," because the offenses require a fresh virgin from each generation in order to "atone" for a sin of some ancestor. Other girls are given into trokosi slavery by their families in payment for the services of the priest, seeking the favor of the gods in order to assure a good crop or success in an exam.

A common reason for becoming a trokosi slave is to break a real or suspected curse resulting in deaths of several family members. In each case, the priest consults the spirit of the idol through divination, and the oft-demanded payment is the perpetual servitude of a virgin daughter of the family. Families go along with the priest's unspeakable demands out of fear that if they do not, they and their families will be cursed and die.

The practice of trokosi slavery was made a criminal offense by the Ghanaian government in 1998. In the law it is called customary or ritual servitude. It carries a substantial penalty, too -- three years minimum in prison -- but the law has not been enforced. The reason is simple: too many people fear the curse of the priests, a curse which they believe have power to kill. After all, the idol gods were brought there as war gods. Their basic function is to kill, they believe.

Trokosi is a life or horrible suffering for these little girls. The priest holds an occult sexual initiation and calls for their services whenever and however he pleases, without ever showing any affection whatsoever for either the girls or the children they bear to him because of their life of constant rape.

Averages of four children are born to each trokosi slave girl through being raped repeatedly by the priest. Yet the priest never takes any interest in or responsibility for the children he fathered, and never owns them or shows affection towards them. The law of the shrine is that the woman is solely responsible for the care of the children. Thus the mother struggles to provide for children, even while eeking out an existence for herself.

These child slaves (trokosi) are forced to chant praises to the idol gods, offer sacrifices and do heavy manual labor in the priest's fields all day without any compensation, while strictly forbidden to eat even a morsel of the grain they raise. Most trokosi slaves live with constant hunger, and some of them are refused all food. In such cases they have no alternative but begging or scrounging in garbage discarded by others. Therefore, these girls usually give birth to malnourished and unhealthy children.

These girls do have a choice, of sorts. When the girls refuse anything commanded by the priest, when they do not make their work quota, or when they displease him in any way, they can choose how they want to be punished. Two items are laid in front of them. One is a whip. The other is broken glass. They can be whipped long and hard while others hold them down, or they can kneel for hours on large shards of broken glass, with no medical care afterwards.

There are many Christian ministries in Africa, all on crusades to end child slavery. But they all need help. Each ministry has been founded by non-African Christians who could not just sit by and ignore what was going on with these children. I am especially impressed with the Every Child Ministries Organization (ECM).

After liberating these children from sexual slavery, other missions of the area offer vocational training to the girls. Options include dressmaking, tie-dying and batik, weaving of traditional kente cloth, hairdressing, soap making, baking, and catering. Basic materials for getting started in their own small business are supplied on graduation, through the generosity of partners who support the work. Many former trokosi slaves now operate businesses that are flourishing.

There are many more Christian Ministries working to rescue children, improve the quality of their lives, and educate them. I support Water For Life through LifeToday.org International. James and Betty Robison have been committed to providing clean water in areas where thousands of children die each year because of filthy water. Beth Moore is deeply involved with the Robisons to bring hope to these children, along with the wells they dig. This year LIFE will work to fund the drilling, construction and completion of 200 new water wells across the continent of Africa. Since the beginning of their worldwide outreach, they have completed over 1000 new water wells across 25 different nations.

If you have a heart to help those who cannot help themselves, please consider contacting ministries who are well established in Africa, have financial integrity, and are effectively changing Africa for the better. Remember: Africa is the second-largest continent in the world in both area and population. We are talking about a billion people who God loves!

(c) 2008 April Lorier | Related Posts

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14 January 2008

How To Find "Mr Right" Using a Fairy Tale

So you are a Christian woman looking for a nice Christian man with whom you could spend the rest of your life. OK, so let's start by reading a fairy tale.

If a woman reads Lyman Frank Baum's classic tale, Wizard of Oz, analyzing the characters, it is a much more interesting read. There are four basic types of males within the tale. The question raised is what kind of man would you prefer to spend your life with?

The Scarecrow finds it very difficult to focus on what matters most. With his straw-filled head, he has no clue how to participate in relationships, especially with women. It never occurs to him that females are wired differently than men and that they have totally different needs. He has been wired to solve problems, to think, to analyze. What possible good could come from emotions or listening to her without interrupting when she's upset? And when the problem has been solved why does she need to keep talking about it? What is the point of crying, anyway? And hugs or strokes of understanding – oh, please! He's the man who says, "I do my part: I work my butt off to provide for her and the children. What else could she possibly need from me?"

The Tin Man flaunts his masculinity in a sexual way. You will not see him making himself vulnerable to anyone, least of all, a woman! If he ever does cry, you can be sure no one will witness it. It would be unmanly. His search for his heart is with sexual advances, lavish gifts, extravagant trips, and flashy clothes.

The Lion wants courage to take a risk, but usually the woman has to initiate the relationship. If she wins him, he will depend upon her courage as long as they're a couple. Oh, he parades around with bravado, flexing his muscles, but it is the woman who rules this man! If she doesn't like his family, he will slowly detach from his family of origin to keep her satisfied. He couldn't make it without her!

The Wizard is like a Chameleon, naturally colored for his surroundings as a camouflage. Need a hero? The Wizard can be your hero at a moment's notice! Need someone with finesse? The Wizard is your man! Need a charmer who makes you feel like a Princess? He's your Prince! Rarely does this man reveal who he really is. No, this man hides behind all types of facades – whatever serves his immediate purposes. This man can be all things to all people. That is, unless you want a man knows who he is and can be true to himself (and to you).

Lest you think there are no decent types out there, I hasten to add any one of these types can change. Many times all it takes is for a man to become a new creation in Christ. Scripture teaches the old man – the man he was before he committed him self to the Lordship of Jesus Christ – can be reborn from the inside out. As he matures in his walk with Jesus Christ, The Holy Spirit will teach him how to be God's man. This is what a Christian woman wants!

Getting to know a man over a considerable length of time, and seeing how he reacts in a variety of situations will tell you who your man really is. It is not enough that you are attracted to him, or that he claims to be a Christian man! Premarital counseling with your pastor will reveal potential problems before you take the big plunge. Don't get in a big rush to snag that man! And most of all, make sure you are in an intimate relationship with your Savior at all times. After all, you want a man who puts God before you in the relationship. Those are the men who will treat you with gentleness, sacrificial love, and fidelity.

(c)2008 April Lorier

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13 January 2008

Chicken Politics in California: A Must Read!

You and I know the world has problems, right? There are wars, natural disasters, child abuse, spousal abuse, starving, dying and the world is in turmoil. Big Brother has not been able to do much except limit our rights as tensions rise. He (Big Brother) has told you that you cannot smoke, you have to have a seat belt on to drive, and if you want to fly out of America on a romantic honeymoon, well there are lots of rules to follow before you can leave. And don’t forget those long lines at all security check points! Oh, my goodness, we are big brothered beyond belief! And yet…

There’s a matter of national security waiting to be decided in Riverside, California in the February 5th election. I hope you haven’t missed the news about it because it is a very important matter! Measure A will decide how many roosters you can keep. And it will take only a simple majority to pass. After Big Brother decides how many roosters you can keep, you will have to confine said roosters to a sound-reducing enclosure no less than 100 feet from neighboring houses from sunset to sunrise.

Supporters of this world-changing Measure A say Riverside has become much more urbanized and crowing roosters detract from the quality of life. They hope it will cut down on cockfighting.

Spread the word! Contact your representatives! Most people know as California goes, so goes the nation! A measure like this could be coming to your area soon! And not just to your cities, but to your rural areas, as well!

It would be a shame if we had to try hiding our roosters from our neighbors. Who knows? They might be the kind that would contact Big Brother!

©2008 April Lorier | Related Posts
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11 January 2008

Genital Mutilation: God Help The Little Girls

I ask you to imagine your young daughter, or granddaughter, anywhere from the age of 4 to 12, being held down on the ground by several women, her legs spread and stabilized as either a rusty knife or thorns from an Acacia Tree are being used to cut out her clitoris. Blood is flowing profusely, her screams are piercing your heart, and no anesthesia is available. There will be no stitches and your baby will be left with a hole the size of a small pebble.

You know, from experience, she will have infections for the rest of her life, won't be able to menstruate properly because of the back flow of blood, and that sex and childbearing will be excruciatingly painful for the rest of her life (as will urinating and menstruation). But you cannot stop the process or she will be ineligible for marriage and treated as an outcast and a whore for the rest of her life. So will her family.

Such is the custom in over 80 percent of Earth. It's called Female Genital Mutilation (FGM) or Female Genital Cutting (FGC). Sometimes it's called Female Circumcision, but that's not an accurate term. There's a world of difference between female circumcision and male circumcision!

Now you may be asking why you should care about these little girls in Africa and Asia. As a Christian, I answer this way: For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son... (Please note it does not say America, but the world.)

Asia is the largest continent in the world in both area and population. (19,189,277 miles which covers about 60 percent of Earth's total land area, and almost 4 billion inhabitants, or about 56 percent of the world's populations.)

Africa is the second-largest continent in the world in both area and population (11,700, 000 miles, covering about 20 percent of Earth's total land area, and 885 million human inhabitants, about 14 percent of the world's population.)

So, if you do the math, between the two continents, we're talking about 80 percent of Earth in area, and about 12 billion human beings, as of 2004. Don't you think The Great Commission Go into all the world includes this 80 percent?

I've been reading an excellent book by Sandy Willcox with Arina Short called Cut Flowers, Female Genital Mutilation and a Biblical Response. You will not find this book at Amazon, but you can find it at EqualityDepot.com

Cut Flowers
contains an overview of FGM throughout Africa, some cultural characteristics of these societies, and the health consequences of FGM. Willcox gives a biblically based response to FGM, as well as resources and recommendations about ways to comfort and act on behalf of women undergoing FGM. This book is valuable to a wide range of professions, including ministers, social workers, and health care workers.

If you are just
being introduced to the practice, as I was, the book may feel graphic and distressing, but I encourage you to learn about the reality of billions of women’s lives.There are many Christian Ministries present in the continents of Africa and Asia, trying to help with this problem, and I will be writing about how you can contact them and help these precious girls. In the meantime, hug your baby tight and thank God you live in a country which neither promotes nor condones this barbaric practice.
(c)2007 April Lorier | Related Posts
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10 January 2008

Women, Stop Identity Thieves!

Identity theft is rising every day around the world. There are thousands – maybe even millions of scammers sitting in scrunched up offices, executing their plans to steal your identity and profit from it. Women are the most vulnerable because we are the most trusting. My good friend, Mo, passed this on to me, and now I pass it on to you. I do hope you will print it out and take the advice of her attorney friend to heart. I have been the victim of credit card scraping (they stole just the number on my credit card), so I know the consequences. They are not pleasant!

1. Do not sign the back of your credit cards. Instead, put "PHOTO ID REQUIRED."

2. When you are writing checks to pay on your credit card accounts, DO NOT put the complete account number on the "For" line. Instead, just put the last four numbers. The credit card company knows the rest of the number, and anyone who might be handling your check as it passes through all the check processing channels won't have access to it.

3. Put your work phone # on your checks instead of your home Phone. If you have a PO box use that instead of your home address. If you do not have a PO Box, use your work address. Never have your SS# printed on your checks. DUH! You can add it if it is necessary. But if you have it printed, anyone can get it.

4. Place the contents of your wallet on a photocopy machine. Do both sides of each license, credit card, etc. You will know what you had in your wallet and all of the account numbers and phone numbers to call and cancel. Keep the photocopy in a safe place. I also carry a photocopy of my passport when I travel either here or abroad. We've all heard horror stories about fraud that's committed on us: stealing a name, address, Social Security number, and our credit card numbers.

5. We have been told we should cancel our credit cards immediately. But the key is having the toll free numbers and your card numbers handy so you know whom to call. Keep those where you can find them.

6. File a police report immediately in the jurisdiction where your credit cards, etc., were stolen. This proves to credit providers you were diligent, and this is a first step toward an investigation (if there ever is one).

But here's what is perhaps most important of all: (I never even thought to do this.)

7. Call the 3 national credit reporting organizations immediately to place a fraud alert on your name. But also call the Social Security fraud line number. I had never thought of doing this until advised by a bank that called to tell me an application for credit was made over the internet in my name. The alert means any company that checks your credit knows your information was stolen, and they have to contact you by phone to authorize new credit.

Now, here are the numbers you always need to contact about your wallet, etc, has been stolen:

1.) Equifax: 800-525-6285

2.) Experian (formerly TRW): 888-397-3742

3.) Trans Union: 800-6807289

4.) Social Security Administration (fraud line):800-269-0271

Ladies, I was told by an investigator that when a person steals your credit card number – they do not need your actual credit card – the very first thing they do is test your card by placing an order on the internet. If it goes through, they know they have hit pay dirt, and they will charge to your limit for merchandise they can then sell. So this is April, asking you to not to procrastinate! Protect yourselves and store the information in a very safe place.

Thank you, Mo! Submitted 2008 April Lorier
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A Life-Changing Dream

I Dreamt I Stood At Calvary

I dreamt I stood at Calvary
and saw three crosses there.
On left and right were nailed two thieves,
the cross between was bare.

A soldier took his sword in hand,
then pointing it at me,
He said,"You there, prepare to die.
That cross is meant for thee."

I quickly fell upon my knees,
for mercy did I cry.
As strong hands grabbed my hands and feet,
I shouted, "Why, oh why?"

And then a voice both soft and sweet
was heard above the din;
"Let this one go, take Me instead.
I'll pay his debt of sin."

With His body torn and bleeding,
and thorn marks 'round His head;
With face bruised where they beat Him,
He stepped into my stead.

Then Jesus laid upon the cross,
His life to freely give
that all my sins be washed away,
and through His death, I'd live.

He stretched His arms out open wide,
No struggle did He make
as they prepared to nail Him there,
His life to gladly take.

They drove the spikes in hands and feet
and slammed the cross in place.
His bones were shaken out of joint
and blood flowed down His face.
"Forgive them, Father" was His cry,
"They know not what they've done.
They do not realize that You
have sent your Only Son."

Deep darkness filled the noonday sky
and trembling shook the ground
as God, The Father, turned away,
while God, The Son, gazed 'round.

"It's finished now", the Savior said.
"The door stands open wide.
"Into Thy hands my spirit comes."
and then they pierced His side.

The graves were bursting open,
and dead men walked around;
The temple veil was rent in twain,
and I fell to the ground.

When I awoke, the night had passed
and sunshine flooded in;
I cried, "Dear Lord, forgive me please,
and cleanse me from my sin.

For You sent down your Only Son,
a ransom for the lost,
and I see You included me
when counting out the cost.

Take o'er the reins that guide my life,
remove my willful pride;
sweep clean my heart and enter in,
forever, there abide."

Yes, I dreamt I stood at Calvary
and saw those crosses three;
yet no longer do I look with fear
where Jesus died for me.

~Author Unknown~

Submitted 2008 April Lorier

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A Chance To Exchange Burdens

"Why is my burden so heavy?" I slammed the bedroom door and leaned against it. Is there no rest from this life? I wondered. I stumbled to my bed and dropped onto it, pressing my pillow around my ears to shut out the noise of my existence.

"Oh God," I cried, "let me sleep. Let me sleep forever and never wake up!" With a deep sob I tried to will myself into oblivion, and then welcomed the blackness that came over me. Light surrounded me as I regained consciousness. I focused on its source: The figure of a man standing before a cross.

"My child," the person asked, "why did you want to come to Me before I am ready to call you?"

"Lord, I'm sorry. It's just that… I can't go on. You see how hard it is for me. Look at this awful burden on my back. I simply can't carry it anymore."

"But haven't I told you to cast all of your burdens upon Me because I care for you? My yoke is easy, and My burden is light."

"I knew You would say that. But why does mine have to be so heavy?"

"My child, everyone in the world has a burden. Perhaps you would like to try a different one?"

"I can do that?"

He pointed to several burdens lying at His feet. "You may try any of these."

All of them seemed to be of equal size. But each was labeled with a name. "There's Joan's," I said. Joan was married to a wealthy businessman. She lived in a sprawling estate and dressed her three daughters in the prettiest designer clothes. Sometimes she drove me to church in her Cadillac when my car was broken.

"Let me try that one." How difficult could her burden be? I thought.

The Lord removed my burden and placed Joan's on my shoulders. I sank to my knees beneath its weight.

"Take it off!" I said. "What makes it so heavy?"

"Look inside."

I untied the straps and opened the top. Inside was a figure of her Mother-in-law, and when I lifted it out, it began to speak.

"Joan, you'll never be good enough for my son," it began. "He never should have married you. You're a terrible mother to my grandchildren…"

I quickly placed the figure back in the pack and withdrew another. It was Donna, Joan's youngest daughter. Her head was bandaged from the surgery that had failed to resolve
her epilepsy. A third figure was Joan's brother. Addicted to drugs, he had been convicted of killing a police officer.

"I see why her burden is so heavy, Lord. But she's always smiling and helping others. I didn't realize…"

"Would you like to try another?" He asked quietly.

I tested several. Paula's felt heavy: She was raising four small boys without a father. Debra's did too: A childhood of sexual abuse and a marriage of emotional abuse. When
I came to Ruth's burden, I didn't even try. I knew that inside I would find arthritis, old age, a demanding full-time job, and a beloved husband in a nursing home.

"They're all too heavy, Lord," I said. "Give back my own."

As I lifted the familiar load once again, it seemed much lighter than the others.

"Let's look inside" He said.

I turned away, holding it close. "That's not a good idea," I said.

"Why?"

"There's a lot of junk in there."

"Let Me see."

The gentle thunder of His voice compelled me. I opened my burden. He pulled out a brick.

"Tell me about this one."

"Lord, You know. It's money. I know we don't suffer like people in some countries or even the homeless here in America. But we have no insurance, and when the kids get
sick, we can't always take them to the doctor. They've never been to a dentist. And I'm tired of dressing them in hand-me-downs."

"My child, I will supply all of your needs… and your children's. I've given them healthy bodies. I will teach them that expensive clothing doesn't make a person valuable in My sight."

Then He lifted out the figure of a small boy. "And this?" He asked.

"Andrew…" I hung my head, ashamed to call my son a burden. "But, Lord, he's hyperactive. He's not quiet like the other two. He makes me so tired. He's always getting hurt, and someone is bound to think I abuse him. I yell at him all the time. Someday I may really hurt him…"

"My child," He said, "If you trust Me, I will renew your strength; if you allow Me to fill you with My Spirit, I will give you patience." Then He took some pebbles from my burden.

"Yes, Lord," I said with a sigh. "Those are small. But they're important. I hate my hair. It's thin, and I can't make it look nice. I can't afford to go to the beauty shop. I'm overweight and can't stay on a diet. I hate all my clothes. I hate the way I look!"

"My child, people look at your outward appearance, but I look at your heart. By My Spirit you can gain self-control to lose weight. But your beauty should not come from outward appearance. Instead, it should come from your inner self - the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in My sight."

My burden now seemed lighter than before.

"I guess I can handle it now," I said.

"There is more," he said. "Hand Me that last brick."

"Oh, You don't have to take that. I can handle it.

"My child, give it to Me." Again His voice compelled me.

He reached out His hand, and for the first time I saw the ugly wound.

"But, Lord, this brick is so awful, so nasty, so….Lord! What happened to your hands? They're so scarred!"

No longer focused on my burden, I looked for the first time into His face. In His brow were ragged scars, as though someone had pressed thorns into His flesh.

"Lord," I whispered. "What happened to You?"

His loving eyes reached into my soul.

"My child, you know. Hand Me the brick. It belongs to Me. I bought it."

"How?"

"With My blood."

"But why, Lord?"

"Because I love you with an everlasting love. Give it to Me."

I placed the filthy brick into His wounded palm. It contained all the dirt and evil of my life: my pride, my selfishness, the depression that constantly tormented me.

He turned to the cross and hurled my brick into the pool of blood at its base. It hardly made a ripple.

"Now, My child, you need to go back. I will be with you always. When you are troubled, call to Me and I will help you and show you things you cannot imagine now."

"Yes, Lord, I will call on You."

I reached to pick up my burden.

"You may leave that here if you wish. You see all these burdens? They are the ones that others have left at My feet. Joan's, Paula's, Debra's, Ruth's…. When you leave your burden here, I carry it with you. Remember, My yoke is easy and My burden is light."

As I placed my burden with Him, the light began to fade.

Yet I heard Him whisper, "I will never leave you, nor forsake you."

A peace flooded my soul. I was content.

April Lorier

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Foster Mother, Blessing in Disguise

During The Great Depression, it was not unusual for families who did not have sufficient money to feed all of the children to pick one to “sell” to another family as a live-in servant. In return, they would have less of a financial burden and a little more money each month to feed the children they had.

A close friend of my mother’s, Mary Wise, was sold in this way, and placed with a woman of means she called her “Foster Mother”. It was a blessing in disguise for Mary, and years later, in her first published book called Burrs That Stuck, she included this poem.

We have talked many times about the Sovereignty of God, and Mary knows God had a plan for her life. She is grateful for the years she spent with her Foster Mother. It was from her Foster Mother that she learned about the grace of God and His love for her.

I am sharing her poem, with her permission, to inspire and encourage you today. What ever your present circumstances, like Mary, you are not out of the eye shot of your Heavenly Father. There is a purpose for your circumstances, and in time, God will reveal His Divine Purpose. Like Joseph who was sold into slavery by his brothers, and then went through so many disappointments and heart aches, Mary now understands why she was allowed to feel unwanted and unloved. It was a blessing in disguise!

Foster Mother

She, frugal in her living,
respected things thrown out;
made quilts from scraps,
rugs from other people's coats,
and even re-perked coffee twice.

One day she took an ugly child,
fragile, unworthy, full of fear,
and said like she believed it,
"Child, you can do and be anything
you set your mind to."

She whistled as she worked
and taught and laughed and proved
age and illness need not stop one.
She didn't know she did it,
but she gave me a new name.

I was glad to come home to her at night,
and school became exciting.
She fed me humor and encouragement
like it was a magic feast,
and said the unthinkable:
"Child, you are really very smart!"

The years have mowed her grave now
for these many years,
and people say, "Too bad she's gone."
But I find it not too hard to bring her back again
when I remember love. ~

This is a poem written by my mother's childhood friend, Mary Wise. It is from her first book, Burrs That Stuck©1993 Mary Wise. I am using it with Mary's permission.

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09 January 2008

Hillary Found Tearful "Voice"

Well, the big debate today is did Hillary's tears turn her campaign around? Were they real tears, or contrived tears with a purpose? On the "real" side, we have pundits asking why Hillary, a woman, would deliberately make herself look weak when she's running for the most powerful office in our country? On the "contrived" side, we have other pundits saying Hillary is a manipulative woman -- she's always been manipulative -- and women have been getting their way for thousands of years with wavering voices and tears. It makes other women sympathize, and it makes men feel frustrated, mean, and powerless. The important thing here is that people are talking about Hillary ad nauseum! (Any celeb is pretty much dead-in-the-water unless people are talking about them.)

Today Hillary is saying she "found her voice". What voice is that, I ask? I sincerely doubt Hillary has a voice. I believe what she has is a cacophony of voices, depending on where she is, what people are saying about her, and how desperate she feels.

Webster defines cacophony as
a discordant and meaningless mixture of different sounds. But, as a musician, I'm well acquainted with a musical cacophony, especially if I'm listening to the oh-so-cerebral genre of jazz. The sound is not pleasant, except to those who like musical noise, it is understood by none, but is appreciated by the pseudo-intellectual.

Five musicians are on stage and they're playing a song we know. Then, without warning for our nervous system, they begin to play a mish mash of horrible chords that jar us out of our chair. Nothing makes sense! Your nerves are in a wild uproar, and you wonder where you are, what they're doing, and why? Have they all gone crazy? Are they on drugs? Did Alzheimer's hit all of them at the same time, and they forgot what song they were playing?

Hillary's voice strikes me the same way. I'm a person who likes melody, harmony, and beauty. Once I've heard a song and felt moved by it, I appreciate predictability in anyone else's rendition of that song. If Celine Dion made the song famous, I don't want to hear Willie Nelson's version! Hillary's voice sounds different every hour, and her face looks different, too. Who is she
really? Is there even a real Hillary that exists?

I have my own little theory about Hillary's voice and her tears. Research over many campaigns in many years has shown that people ultimately vote for the candidate they
like the best. So issues become second to likability. Why else would candidates make fools out of themselves by showing how badly they play musical instrument, or chowing down a huge piece of whatever is popular in each state? Why would they spend so much time on late-night-television shows auditioning for such a serious job?

I'm postulating that it went like this: "Hillary, people don't like you! They don't give a tinker's damn where you stand on issues. The men hear their shrieking, nagging wives' voice when you yell. The women are turned off by the abrasive tone in your voice as your face contorts in unflattering views. You scare the children, Hillary! You need to make these people see you as a real woman -- a caring, compassionate, and sometimes vulnerable woman who would relate to their personal struggles. Show your feminine side, Hillary! Look softer! A wavering voice and glistening eyes could turn this whole pony race around!"

Hey, if there's one thing no one can accuse Hillary of being, it's dumb.

(c) 2008 April Lorier | Related Posts


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08 January 2008

Presidential Candidates: Passionate Suitors

After watching the New Hampshire Primary, it has dawned on me that presidential candidates are like romantic suitors. They are all passionate, polite and charming while parsing their promises to make sure we are enthralled by them. We fall under their spell, hoping to believe that this one will actually keep his (or her) promises. That takes a lot of either faith or gullibility on our part since all of us have been through previous elections.

Speaking as a divorced female, I am more cynical this year than I have ever been. I remember being courted. Oh, the intimate looks! The soft touches! The voice that quivered with what I thought was genuine emotion. Who knows? Maybe it was genuine
at the time. Maybe time and schedule took its toll?

I'm just so struck today with the similarities. I pray we get a faithful, trustworthy president who will stand up for the America that I remember.
(c)2008 April Lorier | Related Posts
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07 January 2008

Britney Spears vs Dr. Phil

An AP story caught my eye today and set off a storm of righteous indignation within me. Britney Spears does not have issues! She has serious psychiatric problems! How dare this television psychologist try to profit on her illness? Since his Harpo Talk Show began, years ago, I have watched a humble, down to earth man who claims to be a Christian, turn into an any-thing-for-ratings vulture!

LOS ANGELES (AP) - Television's "Dr. Phil" McGraw has pulled the plug on plans for a one-hour show that was to examine Britney Spears' latest public meltdown. In a statement posted Monday on his Web site, McGraw said the 26-year-old pop star's situation was "too intense" for him to go forward with the show. He didn't say whether he planned to reschedule.

Spears was hospitalized Thursday night after a child custody dispute with ex-husband Kevin Federline resulted in an hours-long standoff with police. On Friday, a court commissioner gave sole physical and legal custody of 1-year-old Jayden James and 2-year-old Sean Preston to Federline. McGraw said he met with Spears for an hour Saturday before she left the hospital. ~

What really happened, according to many other sources, is that Britney's parents asked Dr. Phil to "surprise" Britney in her hospital room. She went ballistic and demanded he leave. He would not leave, so after much rancor, Britney left the room herself. No way was she willing to be on his show being scrutinized by millions, and I don't blame her!

I've watched Dr Phil for years, and until two years ago, there were few things that I objected to; however, once he (and Oprah) got caught up in the ratings wars, the show seemed to turn into The Jerry Springer Show. Of course, I wrote in and voiced my opinions - several times! Many others did, too. But did it change anything? Obviously not.

My feeling about last season's shows, and especially the promo for them, is that any time a man has to keep repeating, "Look, this ain't my first rodeo. I've been doing this for thirty years and I know what I'm doing!" he feels like he has something to prove. I know he is educated, but as a psychologist, not a psychiatrist! Before the Dr. Phil Show, he was advising lawyers on prospective jurors for their cases. That's a long way from psychoanalysis!

"If it's happening now, we're gonna deal with it now!" I'm sorry, but hearing this phrase in the beginning of the show just makes my skin crawl. No longer does he sound like a competent professional. He sounds like all of the "good ole boys" I've ever known: uneducated, uncouth, and under the influence.

Shame on you, Phillip McGraw! How dare you exploit Britney at her lowest? I'd hate to be in your shoes when you meet your Maker. Somehow, I think He might not be too proud of you. I know I'm not . Shame on you!

(c) 2008 April Lorier, a former Dr. Phil viewer | Related Posts
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No Honor For My Father?

The first American to die in Iraq this year was Andrew Olmsted of Colorado Springs, CO and a self-described libertarian. His school mates dubbed him "Alex Keaton" (Family Ties Show of the '80s). The 38-year-old soldier based out of Fort Carson was a prolific blogger - including one he did steadily for the Rocky Mountain News dating back to May. He wrote a post, asking a friend to publish it in the event of his death. In the post he said, "I am dead. If you are reading this, you are not dead. So get out there and live! But don't cry for me. Tears will do no good now."

I grew up in a time when every one respected America and The Gospel. Even those who had not yet come to Christ bowed their heads and removed their hats during prayer. We all loved America, land of the free, home of the brave. We had the greatest respect for our beloved soldiers, our precious Bibles, and our pastors were given reverent respect.

At this time, The Supreme Court is deciding they want no crosses on federal property. No crosses? This disturbs me profoundly! My own father, a Word War II Vet, is buried on federal property in El Paso, Texas! Does this mean my father who served his fellow warriors as a medic and later went on to be a pastor cannot have a cross on his grave site?

The hottest song on the web is "What About Arlington?" You can watch it on YouTube, or you can purchase the song at jamigrooms . It is performed by Jami Grooms, and was written by Jami Grooms, Charlie Craig, and Shane King. It is published by Song Machine.

The American Legion, Liberty Legal Institute, and The Alliance Defense Fund are using this video in a national campaign to protect religious symbols on the tombstones and the monuments in cemeteries that honor the fallen heroes of this great country.

So, I ask these "wise sages" of The Supreme Court:
Just how do you plan to get rid of the millions of crosses that are in military cemeteries? Surely, with all your wisdom, you will be able to answer my very personal question.

(c) 2008 April Lorier, proud daughter of a WWII Vet Related Posts
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06 January 2008

Following A Brainless Fish?

I am thinking this morning about an experiment that was done on fish. Scientists were trying to find out why fish swam in schools (as opposed to swimming alone). They took one fish and did a lobotomy on it. They completely removed the fish's brain, therefore any instinct in it to swim with all of the other fish. Sure enough, without a brain, the fish swam off in another direction. But the amazing part of this experiment is that all of the other fish followed the brainless fish!

Just listening to all of this noise - this ever-changing rhetoric - from our esteemed presidential candidates makes me think of this story about the fish. It is now more important than ever that we stay in The Word of God, spend time alone with Him, and follow
His leading! Lord knows, we don't want to be following a brainless fish!

Please pray for our election. The Bible clearly states that it is
God who sets up and brings down rulers for a country. Some of the rulers He sat up were evil rulers because God's people were under judgment. (Read it in the Old Testament.) And other leaders He sat up were "just" because God's people were obeying God! I have great respect for God's judgment, and I do not want to live through it. So, I, for one, am praying God will have mercy on us even though we do not deserve it.

(c)2008 April Lorier | Related Posts
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05 January 2008

Please Pray for Herb

Tonight my heart is breaking for my friend, Herb. He's a tough guy in every part of his life except for his wife who passed away December 27th. She came into his life when he did not have any interest in having another woman in his life. He had already been through a bad marriage, and he wasn't going to make himself vulnerable to another one! But this woman with red hair and a warm smile just took him by surprise. He says she saved his life. He says she was his life. She was his savior.

Herb does not know Jesus Christ as his Savior, and his daughter who is a Christian asked me how you can have fellowship with someone who refuses the salvation Jesus offers. In all honesty, I did not have a good answer for her. I told her not to stop praying for him, and to show nothing but love for him. It is the job of The Holy Spirit to convict her father, not her. We're told to love them into The Kingdom of God.

I am asking, with a broken heart, that my readers will pray for Herb. He has lost his wife and his will to live. He's only 55 years old, so hopefully he has years ahead of him. But we know people can die of a broken heart. "Without hope the people perish." As Bible-believing Christians, we know that hope is Jesus Christ. It's not your spouse.

Please pray for Herb.
April Lorier
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Jesus Is Only As Far Away As Your Need

The man slowly looked up. This was a woman clearly accustomed to the finer things of life. Her coat was new. She looked like that she had never missed a meal in her life. His first thought was that she wanted to make fun of him, like so many others had done before.

"Leave me alone," he growled. To his amazement, the woman continued standing. She was smiling -- her even white teeth displayed in dazzling rows.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"No," he answered sarcastically. "I've just come from dining with the president. Now go away."

The woman's smile became even broader. Suddenly the man felt a gentle hand under his arm.

"What are you doing, lady?" the man asked angrily. "I said to leave me alone. "

Just then a policeman came up. "Is there any problem, ma'am?" he asked.

"No problem here, officer," the woman answered. "I'm just trying to get this man to his feet. Will you help me?"

The officer scratched his head. "That's old Jack. He's been a fixture around here for a couple of years. What do you want with him?"

"See that cafeteria over there?" she asked. "I'm going to get him something to eat and get him out of the cold for awhile."

"Are you crazy, lady?" the homeless man resisted. "I don't want to go in there!" Then he felt strong hands grab his other arm and lift him up.

"Let me go, officer. I didn't do anything."

"This is a good deal for you, Jack," the officer answered. "Don't blow it."

Finally, and with some difficulty, the woman and the police officer got Jack into the cafeteria and sat him at a table in a remote corner. It was the middle of the morning, so most of the breakfast crowd had already left and the lunch bunch had not yet arrived. The manager strode across the cafeteria and stood by his table.

"What's going on here, officer?" he asked. "What is all this. Is this man in trouble?"

"This lady brought this man in here to be fed," the policeman answered.

"Not in here!" the manager replied angrily. "Having a person like that here is bad for business."

Old Jack smiled a toothless grin. "See, lady. I told you so. Now if you'll let me go. I didn't want to come here in the first place."

The woman turned to the cafeteria manager and smiled. "Sir, are you familiar with Eddy and Associates, the banking firm down the street?"

"Of course I am," the manager answered impatiently. "They hold their weekly meetings in one of my banquet rooms."

"And do you make a goodly amount of money providing food at these weekly meetings?"

"What business is that of yours?"

"I, sir, am Penelope Eddy, president and CEO of the company."

"Oh."

The woman smiled again. "I thought that might make a difference." She glanced at the cop who was busy stifling a giggle. "Would you like to join us in a cup of coffee and a meal, officer?"

"No thanks, ma'am," the officer replied. "I'm on duty."

"Then, perhaps, a cup of coffee to go?"

"Yes, ma'am. That would be very nice."

The cafeteria manager turned on his heel "I'll get your coffee for you right away, officer."

The officer watched him walk away. "You certainly put him in his place," he said.

"That was not my intent. Believe it or not, I have a reason for all this."

She sat down at the table across from her amazed dinner guest. She stared at him intently. "Jack, do you remember me?"

Old Jack searched her face with his old , rheumy eyes "I think so -- I mean you do look familiar."

"I'm a little older perhaps," she said. "Maybe I've even filled out more than in my younger days when you worked here, and I came through that very door, cold and hungry."

"Ma'am?" the officer said questioningly. He couldn't believe that such a magnificently turned out woman could ever have been hungry.

"I was just out of college," the woman began. "I had come to the city looking for a job, but I couldn't find anything. Finally I was down to my last few cents and had been kicked out of my apartment. I walked the streets for days. It was February and I was cold and nearly starving. I saw this place and walked in on the off chance that I could get something to eat."

Jack lit up with a smile. "Now I remember," he said. "I was behind the serving counter. You came up and asked me if you could work for something to eat. I said that it was against company policy."

"I know," the woman continued. "Then you made me the biggest roast beef sandwich that I had ever seen, gave me a cup of coffee, and told me to go over to a corner table and enjoy it. I was afraid that you would get into trouble. Then, when I looked over, I saw you put the price of my food in the cash register I knew then that everything would be all right."

"So you started your own business?" Old Jack said.

"I got a job that very afternoon. I worked my way up. Eventually I started my own business, that, with the help of God, prospered." She opened her purse and pulled out a business card. "When you are finished here, I want you to pay a visit to a Mr. Lyons. He's the personnel director of my company. I'll go talk to him now and I'm certain he'll find something for you to do around the office." She smiled. "I think he might even find the funds to give you a little advance so that you can buy some clothes and get a place to live until you get on your feet. If you ever need anything, my door is always open to you."

There were tears in the old man's eyes. "How can I ever thank you? " he said.

"Don't thank me," the woman answered. "To God goes the glory. Thank Jesus. He led me to you."

Outside the cafeteria, the officer and the woman paused at the entrance before going their separate ways. "Thank you for all your help, officer," she said.

"On the contrary, Ms. Eddy," he answered. "Thank you. I saw a miracle today, something that I will never forget. And...And thank you for the coffee."

Remember: Jesus is only as far away as your need today.

2008 April Lorier
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04 January 2008

Just Go With The Flow and Hang On Tight!

Well, most of you know about the last "season" in California. If you haven't read what I and millions of others went through, read it here. Everyone watches the Rose Parade out of Pasadena, and they think, "Why am I living here in this cold place? Look at California! It's paradise!" NOT!

As a Californian, I do not know about Summer, Winter, Spring, or Fall. I know about Fire Season, Torrential Rain/Mud Slide Season, Santa Ana Wind Season, and Earthquake Season. We just came out of "fire season" in November, and now we are in the "torrential rain" season of January. Weathermen are calling for 10 feet - I didn't say "inches" - of snow, those flood warnings interrupt every television program (if our electricity is still on), and high winds from 150 mph to 200 mph. My poor dog has not wanted to go out to pottie all day. Can we blame her?

And to top it all off, I have the flu. So how do I inspire and encourage myself? I remember that God is STILL in control! He's my protector, my provider, and my sustainer. Whatever is happening outside, God is with me. He has promised never to leave me, and I believe Him.

So what ever is happening in your life, just go with the flow, know that God is in charge of your oars and as long as you trust Him and hang on tight, you'll come out with stronger faith and more joy!

If there's no post for a couple of days, it's only because the electricity or phone lines are not functioning properly.

Bless the Name of the Lord! (c) 2008 April Lorier
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03 January 2008

How Do You Measure Yourself?

Today I've been thinking about all the lies I believed about who I was. When I was a child of school age, I believed I was the fat, unattractive girl in the classroom. I believed I was inferior because my father "didn't have a real job." (He was a pastor and the kids thought he worked only one day a week.) Since I lived in a small mining town where most men went to work every day, I felt ashamed that Daddy seemed to work only one day a week. Little did I know, then, that Daddy clocked twice as many hours as miners. He was always "on call", and much of his ministering was while I slept at night.

Because my mom couldn't cope with the fact that I was "always one step ahead" of her (her words), she made me feel bad about all the trouble I caused her. Actually, I was extremely creative! I remember trying to solve our apparent poverty by going door-to-door with a cup, offering to sing for each resident, for money, of course. While that was embarrassing for my parents, it was also very creative!

I remember how I viewed myself as a beautiful teenager. I had lost weight, won some awards with my singing and my writing, and the boys were coming out of the woodwork. I thought I was pretty cool!

Then, as a wife of a rage-aholic, I viewed myself as totally worthless. I reasoned if I was valuable I would not be demeaned and battered by someone who claimed to love me.

I could go on, but you get the idea: my perception of myself was totally dependent upon what other people thought, and on how they treated me. It was always a false image!

Eventually, I learned how to measure myself against what God said about me. After all, He created me! He knew me better than I could ever know myself! I began to read scripture out loud. Psalm 139 was my favorite:

1 O LORD, You have searched me and known me.
2 You know my sitting down and my rising up;
You understand my thought afar off.
3 You comprehend my path and my lying down,
And are acquainted with all my ways.
4 For there is not a word on my tongue,
But behold, O LORD, You know it altogether.
5 You have hedged me behind and before,
And laid Your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
It is high, I cannot attain it.

13 For You formed my inward parts;
You covered me in my mother’s womb.
14 I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Marvelous are Your works,
And that my soul knows very well.
15 My frame was not hidden from You,
When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.
And in Your book they all were written,
The days fashioned for me,
When as yet there were none of them.

There are many more wonderful scriptures that tell me how precious I am to my Creator, and the more I read, the more I believed. Scripture tells us that faith comes by hearing, and hearing comes by The Word of God. I know that to be true, first, because God's Word says so. But I also know it from experiencing it.

All of us have had life experiences that were destructive to our self-perception. Reading God's view of you can help you replace those untrue perceptions about yourself. And read it out loud! Start with John 3:16 and substitute your name for all the pronouns. For God so loved April that He gave His only begotten Son. The more you read, the more you will believe.

Whatever else you do, measure yourself against what GOD says about you! No one else's opinion is as important as your Creator's opinion!

Have a Blessed New Year!
(c)2008 April Lorier
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02 January 2008

Who Will You Be This Year?

So, the New Year is here. What's all the fuss about a new year, anyway? All cultures and countries celebrate a "new year". I ask myself, Who do I want to be this year?" I see a new year as just another chance to be better -- a sort of "do over" in several areas. One of my favorite parts of being a follower of Jesus Christ is that He is all about second, third, fourth chances and new things!

So, you are a survivor of abuse. You can look forward to recovery through Jesus Christ!

So, you are struggling to cope with a horrible divorce and you fear facing life alone? You are not alone unless you choose to be alone!

So, you're discouraged, you feel defeated, and you're coping with disabling depression? Oh, I know what I'm talking about here. Been there, done that! I've been through abuse as a child, abuse as a wife, a terrible divorce from a man whom I loved too much (more than it was safe to love him, given his character). I've felt like the biggest loser on earth and wondered if God was even noticing how much pain I was in. I don't write about anything I have not been through myself!

For the new year, I share my favorite scripture -- the one I have hanging on my wall and run to when I need a reminder. I pray you will be blessed by it as I have been, over and over. Get out your dusty Bible and look up Isaiah 43.

“ (1-b)Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by your name;
You are Mine.
(2) When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
And through the rivers, they shall not overflow you.
When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned,
Nor shall the flame scorch you.
3 For I am the LORD your God...

(18) Do not remember the former things,
Nor consider the things of old.
(19) Behold, I will do a new thing,
Now it shall spring forth;
Shall you not know it?
I will even make a road in the wilderness
And rivers in the desert."

See? God is with you and He will make a way for you as you travel towards your "New Thing!"

I pray God hugs you so tight you cannot help but feel it! Ask Him to let you sit on His lap. He will do not only that, but according to Zephaniah, He will rejoice over you with singing! How awesome is that?

(c)2008 April Lorier
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