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Showing posts from September, 2006

Which Sin Will You Choose?

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There’s conflict in everything we do in other people’s eyes. We either don’t do this right…or we don’t do that right. Should we care? Do we care? Most of us actually do care about what others think. The most important thing is that God thinks you’re okay. We focus way too much on how others view us. I’m always insecure about how I look, or what I say and even what I do. But the one thing that stands strong is my faith in God. That’s something nobody can take away from me…ever. God has helped me so much during the past few years with my self-esteem issues. People love to debate and argue over ‘what’s right’ and ‘what’s wrong’ within a religion. What about personal experiences? I’m talking about personal spiritual experiences with God? Who can debate that with you? That’s the problem I’m having right now. See, many of you have seen people come on this site, and tell me I’m out of line with Christianity. Christianity: The Christian religion, founded on the life and teachings of Jesus.

Nun of Our Business

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At an early age, I was waking up early on Sunday morning trekking to church with my neighbors who had five other kids around my age. My parents rarely went, nor took me. They were non-practicing Catholics. Most of the time, I found myself asleep. I couldn’t stay up. The entire process of Catholicism had you standing up, sitting down, standing up, sitting down, kneel down, sit down, kneel down, sit. And then, not only did they make the ‘sign of the cross’, but they even did some other little sign language that I wasn’t familiar with—and they synchronized when they did this. It was eerie. The priest would sing a monotone “Our Father” with the rest of the church goers. It sounded scary, much like what you would see going on at a Satan Worshipper’s church. They had that gloomy way about them, and I just couldn’t get into it. My first experience going to an Assembly of God church for Christians, I was amazed how everyone was so enthusiastic. People came up to you, greeting you with hugs an

Wednesday Prayer

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It’s always amazing to me each time I pray and meditate. Usually, my best prayer time is early in the morning, before I start my day. I grab my cup of coffee, sit out on my deck, meditate and then pray. I always try to listen to “His voice”. It’s not always audible, and it’s not always so obvious either. Sometimes, if I am blocked up with too many thoughts and distractions, I don’t “hear” a thing. The phone will ring, the UPS man shows up, or a visitor will knock on the door. Since I’ve been trying to get back into a closer relationship with God, my prayer time has been much more unique and spiritual. For instance, after I pray and meditate, I open the bible, and God literally talks to me through there. The messages that He gives me, always have something to do with what I just prayed about. It’s not a coincidence, in my opinion. God hears everyone pray, but sometimes we don’t hear his messages. I have to admit, a lot of the time, I’m not open to it. I realized tha

Am I Weak In Faith?

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Today I received an email & comment from a gentleman who went under an anonymous name. I want to share this email we exchanged back and forth with you. He’s also Christian however, feels and believes differently from me. His views and beliefs weren’t offensive, nor arrogant, but he does feel that I’m weak in faith. I’ve never had such strong faith in my life—which is why I eventually wrote a book , and then created this blog. Without my faith, I wouldn't have ever written a word! "Deb, I'm Amazed with a person who has much knowledge to gain access to peoples minds and able to speak with a/n understanding that can help others in times of trials, that you are somewhat lost in faith and trying to gain people who are lost, weak, or have no faith at all the understanding of what is not approved by our GOD in which the whole world will one day see face to face and know that he is GOD. GOD does not allow us the authority to judge, but he does allow us to say when we know

Love That Critiques

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Did you ever want to write about something in particular, and thought, “Well he/she may think it’s about them, so I can’t write that”? This is the time where I have to talk about a subject that may have my personal friends thinking it’s about them. It’s not. It’s about everyone and anyone, including myself. I just wanted to get that clear before I bring this up... In romantic relationships and friendships, it’s easy to criticize others, because you feel comfortable doing so. Sometimes it’s out of pure honesty and concern, and other times, it’s for ulterior motives. Why would anyone want to criticize you out of an ulterior motive? I can only say that I have encountered this when witnessing others in relationships. Romantic relationships are tricky. You want to make sure that your partner/lover/spouse feels loved, don’t you? You were initially attracted to them, because I’m assuming you thought they were a beautiful person, inside and out, right? If they weren’t, why would you date the

Locker Room Nightmare & Gym Etiquette

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What’s wrong with people? It’s just amazing what some people will do when nobody’s looking. I was working out at the gym yesterday afternoon. It was kind of quiet, not a lot of people there—which I prefer. I had to use the ladies’ room, and you all know by now I’m a little wary of going in public bathrooms to begin with, no less a gym’s bathroom full of sweat and other miscellaneous odors going on. Instantly, upon walking into the locker room, I start to smell something funky. Okay, granted, it’s the ladies’ locker room, but this smell was quite different from all the rest that I’ve encountered here. The bathroom stalls are in the next room, and the locker room is separate. Why am I smelling feces? I can’t imagine someone taking a crap in the locker room—so what’s giving off that smell? I went back to where the stalls were. No smell. It actually smelled pleasant—some kind of deodorizer was sprayed probably. I walk back into the locker room section again. Now, even stronger, I begin t

Old News...But Still News

No more spinach!!! I’ve had it! Anytime I want to start eating right, something always bursts my bubble. Ah- I’ll pick up some spinach and make a nice, healthy salad. This was last week. A few days later, they tell me that spinach has been recalled due to a strain of e-coli. 146 people got sick from this outbreak and one person died. It’s nationwide. Great. They say that it takes 3-11 days before the person becomes ill. I’m on day eight. It reminds me of that commercial for Imodium AD, where the woman is sitting in traffic waiting for the light to turn green. The announcer says, “Where will you be the next time diarrhea strikes?” I’m waiting for that moment, on my eleventh day, where I’ll be stuck in traffic or God forbid on a check out line in Walmart somewhere making a beeline for the ladies’ room. On the eleventh day of my spinach e-coli term, I’ll be home. I’m not moving. Pray for me. Is anything safe to eat anymore? Even organic foods aren’t 100% organic! So all you health freak

The Best Meds!

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While going through a stressful week, it’s hard not to just crumble and break down. Usually when something happens in my life that’s not so good, I go through a depression mode. I crawl back in bed and put the covers over my head. I don’t want to face the world. Why should I? It sucks. (Well, for now anyway.) Then I think, well things could be a lot worse. The one thing that I crawled back in bed for was something so insignificant to what could have happened—or what can happen. I guess I don’t realize how fortunate I am sometimes. Having distractions makes my life easier when I’m going through a rough time. I’ve noticed laughter is the best medicine. It’s an old saying, but a true one. A friend asked me recently what she could do to make things better for me. I told her to take me out for some beluga and champagne in a limo. She thought I said, “ bologna ” wrong. “Why would anyone want to eat bologna with champagne? I don’t get it.” In the midst of my de

A Walking Billboard--Or Just A Heart For God?

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When I think back to when I first started this blog, I also ask myself why I even started writing. Before the blog, I wrote, “ A Prayer Away From Healing ”. No one in my family really knew the extent of my faith in God. I was brought up Catholic, but they were non-practicing. I went through the motions of communion and confirmation, but I never felt the spirit of God move in my life so prominently as I did when I became born again. The purpose of starting this blog was to practice writing. I wanted to write about different things. I also wanted to tear myself away from my second book, if I had a block, or if I needed to vent. It was a good outlet for me, and it still is. My blog was multipurpose; an array of topics that I felt strongly about, or if I wanted to just write about something silly and irrelevant to the whole theme of what this blog was supposed to be. It really wasn’t supposed to be about anything. God gave me the strength to write a book while I was going through a rough

The Courage of Stephen Baldwin

It’s always fascinating when someone crosses over to become a born again Christian. It’s good, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes it’s a little bit overwhelming when someone is trying to throw religion down your throat. God gave people the choice to believe in Him or not. That’s our right. I choose to believe. I choose to profess my love for God and call Jesus my savior, but I do not have the right to do the same for any of you out there. Your “God” is your choice. You’re beliefs are your own. No one should have to force their faith upon you. Stephen Baldwin. Great eyes. I’ll say that. In fact, all the Baldwin brothers have great eyes. I saw him today on a morning news show. He just wrote a book called, “ The Unusual Suspect .” It’s about his experience of his new transformed life. Some of his content is said to be controversial. They said some Christians may be taken back by some of his material. On the news, Baldwin said to incorporate God into your s

It Is You I Miss (By Madelene)

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It's funny how my thoughts so easily wandered to the time we went to one of our several favorite places, that rustic bar and the quaint surroundings. As we walked around with our gourmet coffees in hand, it rained with a vengeance. We started to run about, looking for shelter, and you noticed a perfect spot under the open air wooden stairwell, where we hid. Leave it to you to find an intimate and cozy spot for us. It came natural to you. We laughed so hard as we ran, hand in hand, we nearly dropped our coffee. You and I love the rain so much, every time it rains, we give each other a sly, knowing look, it was our time to relax and enjoy each other. My senses miss your scent...your touch...you. It is you, I miss. On the days I gladly called in sick, I would reach for you, hold you close and your body would warm quickly. Naturally, we would be blissfully sleeping so deeply, it was divine. I still smell the scent of your skin, so close to me. It's you, I miss. We would chat up a

Rain

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The rain trickles down my windowpane early this morning, with the sounds of drops gently sprinkling the pavement. Sometimes, I would reach over to see if you were still lying there, or if you had already gotten up to get ready for work. Some days you’d surprised me. You would stay home and call in sick. On that rare occasion that you did, we would sleep in until midmorning and enjoy the leftover rain tapping at our window. We’d both get up and have breakfast together. I always preferred my coffee black. You put cream and sugar in yours, or even had tea on some days. We’d sit and talk for hours in the morning. We’d settle into the couch with our coffee mugs in hand, and discuss politics, religion or even gossip a little. We had little therapy sessions, and walked one another through each problem we were going through. Those days, I miss. Sundays were your days off. We would sit outside, you’d read the paper while I rudely interrupted you with frivolous chatter. You were gracious enough

New York! New York!

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This time of year, we seem to be all fragile. We’re vulnerable and scared. We don’t know what’s waiting just around the corner. On edge and insecure, we go about our daily lives. We live in fear, but we choose to not show it. We keep on keeping on... Daily routines of our lives keep us from thinking the worst possible scenario: a terrorist attack. Do we walk around afraid all the time? Or do we keep going about our business as if nothing ever happened? It’s hard, especially living in New York, we all fear the same thing. Last Saturday evening, I went out with a bunch of friends for dinner in the West Village in NYC. We were sitting outside at this restaurant/café type of place, eating, drinking and enjoying live entertainment. New York was full of life; full of zest and excitement. Everyone was out and about enjoying the last few days of the warm weather. As we sat at our table enjoying our cocktails, we heard loud ‘BOOMS’ from a few blocks away. I looked around, and everyone’s face j

9/11... We'll Never Forget

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Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadwon of the Almighty. This I declare of the LORD He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; He is my God, and I am trusting Him. For He will rescue you from every trap and protect you from the fatal plague. He will shield you with his wings. He will shelter you with His feathers. His faithful promises are your armor and protection. Do not be afraid of the terrors of the night, nor fear the dangers of the day, nor dread the plague that stalks in the darkness, nor the disaster that strikes at midday. Through a thousand fall at your side, through ten thousand are dying around you, these evils will not touch you. But you will see it with your eyes; you will see how the wicked are punished. If you make the LORD your refuge, if you make the Most High your shelter, no evil will conquer you; no plague will come near your dwelling. For He orders His angels to protect you wherever you go. They will

Noticing the Little Things In Life

Fumbling out of my covers, I bumped my head into the nightstand. It hurt. Bad. What time is it? Where am I? Then I heard the remaining echoes of the man behind the bar screaming last call. I believe I made arrangements to go to Atlantic City with a couple of old friends of mine. I hate Atlantic City, but these girls are fun. They gave me their phone number, email addresses and what not, written on just a napkin. I think I lost it. I may have thought it was just that—a napkin. God knows what I did with it. I needed to reconnect with people and get my head out of the fog it was stuck in. Sitting at home wasn’t going to make anything better. But I’m not sure sitting at the bar made a difference. After five beers, five shots of whatever they were serving for my friend’s birthday and another beer ‘to go’, I had my fill. Amy and I headed off to the diner to grab a bite and have some coffee. I’m trying my best to remain sober, this way my head is clear. Sometimes whe

The Path

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Isolated, alone and frustrated, I rub my morning eyes to see past the fog. In so many ways, my life seems to include dense fog lathering my path with its murky blanket of obscure possibilities. I’m not even sure if ‘possibilities’ is the right word. Maybe ‘challenges’ should be placed there instead. I’m not sure. Then again, maybe they come hand-in-hand. Do we notice the possibilities in our lives? Or do we choose to notice the challenges that come our way? Is the glass half empty? Are we pessimists? Or is there a way to constantly look at life in an optimistic way? It’s hard, isn’t it? Our doubts, our fears and sometimes our lack of self-confidence sometimes puts us in such a dilemma with decisions. Decisions. Which path to choose. Are any paths the wrong path to take? I’m sure a lot of people will say, “No! Don’t take that path! It’ll lead to death and destruction,” and some will say, “All roads lead to Rome!” So, which do we believe? Which path is the “right” one? Sometimes we feel

Raw Emotions

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They say an artist’s best work is through their sadness. Raw emotion bring out the best in art, music as well as writing. From either spectrum (happy to sad) extreme emotions can manifest itself into beautiful projects. I believe we go through certain situations in our life, so we can experience different things. Vincent Van Gogh went through a rough situation that led to his death. The painting he did right before he died, “ Starry Night ” has a lot of significance to it. That painting was out of raw emotion. In my own life, I produced many artistic things while in the state of depression. I wrote many lyrics and composed music. I photographed things that were beautiful to me and framed them. Some sold, some didn’t. Still, they had significant value to me. I set all my photographs up in my studio and office to remind me of all the things I love the most. Through a rough break up, I wrote a book. I never thought in a million years I would write a book. Me? What would I have to say abo