We have been taught the He has paid the price and all He expects from us is change. Lets think of that in literal terms. He paid. What did he give? He gave His blood. The atonement, or I own mint. The Lord, the great I AM (I) The Creator (own) Giver of grace and mercy (mint, where grace and mercy is stored for distribution). But more than that He gave his life. The most tangible commodity there is. He gave His blood so that we may live with Him. He gave His life that we may live, be immortal. Those two gifts are the greatest of all.
We all dream of immortality. We even have fictional characters that defy death. We also do activities that makes us feel as though we have touched deaths door and lived to tell about it. We dream of it. Some even take care to live in a way to prolong life. Death is death. A reality undefined.
To live again is one thing. That gift is given to all. It's a given. But to live with Him is another. That is where we start to pay the price. The change. Our change.
To obtain that privilege we need to have mercy and grace jingling in our pockets. And plenty of it.
How do we earn the "change" you ask, the jingle. Well lets say it something like this.
Say we feed the poor, clothe the naked, comfort those who stand in need of comfort, you have just earned a few pieces of grace. Boy don't they feel good in the depths (debts) of our empty pockets. Heck even a smile given to those we pass can earn us a little. Grace is easy, but the more we had to sacrifice the more we will earn. Anytime you go beyond yourself you pretty much got paid.
Oh mercy. That is a big one. You do need grace and mercy, mercy and grace. We can have abundance of one or the other but we have to have both. To earn mercy we can forgive, that can be easy, and then again it can be hard. The harder it is the more we earn. The mother load of mercy is forgiving ourselves. Whoa. For some that is near impossible. One, because we don't see the sin in ourselves, two, we have done something we feel is unforgivable.
Sometimes someone did something to us that we just can't let go. We are innocent, we feel. Being hurt is not a sin, holding on to the pain is. Forgive. Forgive them. Forgive yourself for how you felt or reacted to the pain.
Sometimes we hurt others. Deep. Forgive yourself for your weaknesses, forgive them even if they never forgive you.
The Lord has once said to a sinner. "Go and sin no more". Is that possible? Sin no more? It is. In a sense. No, we can not be perfect, we become perfected. But we can walk away from a sin. We won't be sinless. Just won't be a committen that sin no mor. Yes sir no mor.
By earning change we have changed. That is what the Lord wants. Our change. Change of heart. Change of ways. Change for the better.
Think of it this way "Go and change some more". Now that is how it should of been said. For me, lately I believe I have had a hole in my pocket and have lost some grace and mercy. I sure am grateful for those around me that have picked it up and put it in their own pockets. To you I say I love you. I felt your love and you deserve what I have lost. Today, tomorrow and forever I will try my darnest to earn change.
There is a Lord. He lives. He loves.
Jingle your change!
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Friday, May 1, 2015
Dead Men Tell No Tales
Have you ever envisioned a book with print on one page, and the page directly across from it blank. No illustration, no picture. I have, daily. It represents my life for the last few years.
My page tells of parents, siblings, family. Tells of a Trust (Guy and Charlene Nicoll Trust) that had no trust for me from my siblings.
How the dirt thrown on my parents caskets has metaphorically speaking, left a chasm between me and my siblings. It doesn't need to be back filled with bull crap or a bridge built across only to let the erosion persist. It needs the blank page written upon. Words, reason, thoughts. Truth.
With the sweet amen said as the graves were blessed and consecrated the trust started to erode. As we turned to our own for comfort, the plans formed.
It was decided that I would not be present (I was informed not asked) as my siblings went through my parents things. The important papers as it was described to me.
When my dad passed my mom told of a loan between my father and my husband. Now my mom passes. The Trust immediately starts on the road of no trust. The Loan wasn't due for two years. Yet they apply the loan toward my inheritance.
We were told that we can't be trusted. That we have a history of not paying our bills. That they will just apply the loan toward them buying me out of my parents house.
We tried to explain the loan, it fell on deaf ears. We got a lawyer, to explain that it was a business loan between my dad and my husband. One little side note, my dad approached Tom to loan him money. My parents just sold the old Mesa house and wanted to invest it somewhere that would give the a greater return. For collateral the Baker Machinery property would be used. I have no ownership in the property. I and my mother in law were advised years previous to sign off. Being the nature of the business someone could get injured or at the worst death. That way we couldn't be held financially accountable.
The executors of the Trust needed to know what we had paid in interest. There was no record from my parents side because my dad had complete trust in us. We on the other hand had complete records. Tom sent them a list of payments and dates. That wasn't good enough. We needed to send canceled checks. So we did. We also had those ducks in a row. We are a business for heavens sakes.
Yet they spent time finding checks that my mother wrote to me because for most of this time they lived in an apartment we owned. No rent, free utilities and free cell phones. My mother couldn't stand all this free stuff so she paid a small amount each month. The executors applied those payments toward my inheritance.
All in all the first time I met with their Trust lawyer I was told they wouldn't collect on the loan until we got paid for some property we had for sale. Yet they were collecting long before that. They had applied it toward my inheritance.
Tom does have some property for sale. Believe it or not we had to send proof to the Trust lawyer to prove it.
In 2008 the failed economy hit us hard. Dad came to us and said not to worry about interest payments until we get back on the road. He even told mom to not pay those previous talked about checks and that he would apply those toward the interest payments. Once again his idea, and his trust and his love for us shined through. That should be proof he said that because the checks stopped. Dead men tell no tales.
No the Trust would not believe the words spoken by the living for the dead. Remember we don't pay our bills.
A day before the loan was due we paid on the loan. The interest would of been paid also but that will be made when the Lord blesses us further. At least the interest won't keep accumulating.
The museum (my parents house in Vernon, that is what I call it) stands fully furnished. With all their belongings that now are my siblings belongings. I got no chance to pick anything. No chance to put my name in the hat for the lucky draw of winning something precious to me. Like they say "you can't take it with you". Nothing truer has been said.
My parents journals and photos have been hauled off also. For safe keeping from the San Juan Fire. I was asked by my sister if the house was in jeopardy of the fire. I was living up in Vernon at the time and told her I would call her if I felt we were. I didn't have to call. Not because the Lord blessed us. But because that night she drove up in darkness and took them home or shall I say from home.
This is one page in the book. Turn the page and you will see a story of how the Nicoll Brothers Ranch LLC has restricted me.
Funny one cast member is on both pages, but it plays by the same plan. No trust. No listening.
My page tells of parents, siblings, family. Tells of a Trust (Guy and Charlene Nicoll Trust) that had no trust for me from my siblings.
How the dirt thrown on my parents caskets has metaphorically speaking, left a chasm between me and my siblings. It doesn't need to be back filled with bull crap or a bridge built across only to let the erosion persist. It needs the blank page written upon. Words, reason, thoughts. Truth.
With the sweet amen said as the graves were blessed and consecrated the trust started to erode. As we turned to our own for comfort, the plans formed.
It was decided that I would not be present (I was informed not asked) as my siblings went through my parents things. The important papers as it was described to me.
When my dad passed my mom told of a loan between my father and my husband. Now my mom passes. The Trust immediately starts on the road of no trust. The Loan wasn't due for two years. Yet they apply the loan toward my inheritance.
We were told that we can't be trusted. That we have a history of not paying our bills. That they will just apply the loan toward them buying me out of my parents house.
We tried to explain the loan, it fell on deaf ears. We got a lawyer, to explain that it was a business loan between my dad and my husband. One little side note, my dad approached Tom to loan him money. My parents just sold the old Mesa house and wanted to invest it somewhere that would give the a greater return. For collateral the Baker Machinery property would be used. I have no ownership in the property. I and my mother in law were advised years previous to sign off. Being the nature of the business someone could get injured or at the worst death. That way we couldn't be held financially accountable.
The executors of the Trust needed to know what we had paid in interest. There was no record from my parents side because my dad had complete trust in us. We on the other hand had complete records. Tom sent them a list of payments and dates. That wasn't good enough. We needed to send canceled checks. So we did. We also had those ducks in a row. We are a business for heavens sakes.
Yet they spent time finding checks that my mother wrote to me because for most of this time they lived in an apartment we owned. No rent, free utilities and free cell phones. My mother couldn't stand all this free stuff so she paid a small amount each month. The executors applied those payments toward my inheritance.
All in all the first time I met with their Trust lawyer I was told they wouldn't collect on the loan until we got paid for some property we had for sale. Yet they were collecting long before that. They had applied it toward my inheritance.
Tom does have some property for sale. Believe it or not we had to send proof to the Trust lawyer to prove it.
In 2008 the failed economy hit us hard. Dad came to us and said not to worry about interest payments until we get back on the road. He even told mom to not pay those previous talked about checks and that he would apply those toward the interest payments. Once again his idea, and his trust and his love for us shined through. That should be proof he said that because the checks stopped. Dead men tell no tales.
No the Trust would not believe the words spoken by the living for the dead. Remember we don't pay our bills.
A day before the loan was due we paid on the loan. The interest would of been paid also but that will be made when the Lord blesses us further. At least the interest won't keep accumulating.
The museum (my parents house in Vernon, that is what I call it) stands fully furnished. With all their belongings that now are my siblings belongings. I got no chance to pick anything. No chance to put my name in the hat for the lucky draw of winning something precious to me. Like they say "you can't take it with you". Nothing truer has been said.
My parents journals and photos have been hauled off also. For safe keeping from the San Juan Fire. I was asked by my sister if the house was in jeopardy of the fire. I was living up in Vernon at the time and told her I would call her if I felt we were. I didn't have to call. Not because the Lord blessed us. But because that night she drove up in darkness and took them home or shall I say from home.
This is one page in the book. Turn the page and you will see a story of how the Nicoll Brothers Ranch LLC has restricted me.
Funny one cast member is on both pages, but it plays by the same plan. No trust. No listening.
Sunday, April 19, 2015
From Quilts to Grace
As I work on my quilt I think back to all the ones I have made. There are so few that I still can remember. Or maybe it is more like the Lord knowing us because he created us.
I have always produced quilts in a series or group. My first ones where my Learning Series. They were crib sizes. I entered one in the County Fair (State Fair was too intimidating) and received a blue ribbon. Now don't go and get all excited. I knew my fairs back then. Pick the County over the State and do a size of quilt with less competition. A blue ribbon was fun. I got a check for about twenty dollars.
The next were my Tramp Series. They were baby quilts in payment for a trampoline I was purchasing from my sister. She loved giving homemade gifts. She passed away before I gave her the last two installments. Her good husband Vic told me I was paid in full. I don't think he wanted to go to any baby showers. Plus I laugh now but then it was upsetting to me. I was working with a pattern that I didn't notice but some of Tom's scouts did, if I turned a block slightly a degree the pattern turned into a Nazi sign. I still hope and pray the finished ones I gave her didn't do that .
Those previous quilts led into my next series. The Sanity Series. I was teaching my kids at home at this time and if I left the room to do any chores I found the kids right on my heels. I went crazy sitting on the couch while they did their school work. I found if I was hand quilting a quilt I accomplished something and the kids had more fun laying under the quilt doing their work. I think plenty of times they were hypnotized with the rhythm of the needle coming in and out.
I need to mention the in two previous series the fabric for these quilts was dumpster dive fabric. We knew of a business that made baby bedding. We knew which days were cutting days therefore we knew what night to go by and get free, cute, juvenile fabric. I still have some and so does my mother in law.
The Baby Series. I then needed quilts to give to babies being born around me.
The Wedding Series. Yes my own children were now getting married. Confession. I only finished two. I need to jump back into that series, bad. My heart just isn't there. And my heart influences me on everything. If my heart isn't into it my mind is long gone.
Understand years have passed between most of these series. Sometimes I felt I was starting anew. But each one provided exactly what I needed at the time.
I now have entered my Healing Series but I found myself calling it my When Life Takes Your Cows Make Quilts Series. You know like the saying when life gives you lemons ...
This week I have found I changed the word life to lies.
From the beginning I have said I have done nothing wrong. From my point of view that is what I see. But watching Alicia go through her hell, and talking to her I want to change the "the done nothing wrong" to honest mistake. I honestly did what what was needed for the cattle, property, and equipment. If they felt I made a bad call then they should of came up to help. We all from our point of view do things that others call a mistake or wrong. How easy is it for us to judge others looking on and not inside their intentions.
This week has been difficult again. Not as bad just not easy to swallow.
A few weeks ago the ranch had a work weekend. I was not told. But by the grace of the Lord I found out the hour they were up there. The next day I asked one member "who thought of not inviting me". Not who agreed. To me everyone that was up there agreed. The answer I got was "I don't recall". Really? Forgot that fast. Wouldn't the truth be better? Ginny, we agreed this is best for now and we feel that it doesn't matter who suggested it.
Also this week I have a kind sister in law that for some reason is trying to get to the bottom of this riff. I don't understand why she is willing to stick her neck out for me but I will take all the kindness I can get. Anyway I was trying to show that I have really had no respect for years. I told her of an incident that happened about eight years ago. How someone protected my family by coming to me about some gossip going around about one of my children. I hurried over to put a stop to it. My heart has always been endeared to him. I don't hug to many people but he was always on my very short list of those who I do hug.
He told my sister in law it never happened. What?! That was an honorable thing. Yet you can say that it never happened. You now make me out to be a liar like the rest of my family has?
I wonder how much grace the Lord has stored up. Will He run out before I get there? I always hoped it is like that blob stuff on Ghost Busters II. In the beginning, if the blob stuff touches you, you feel angry, become hateful. But as Egon and Ray study it they learn that through compassion and kindness they can turn the blob into a gel of love. Soon as New York is about to kill each other they spray this around and it becomes the city of brotherly love.
Can we turn this disregard for other into love one day? Can we stand up for truth even though it may hurt? What causes us to lie? What benefit out weighs the truth? Is there enough grace?
Sure wish my mom was here to see my newest quilts. She always made them all out to be blue ribbons. They aren't. You know the Indian superstition how they leave mistakes in their blankets and pottery to let the evil spirits out. Well mine have enough mistakes to open the gates of hell.
Sure wish my mom was here to see my newest quilts. She always made them all out to be blue ribbons. They aren't. You know the Indian superstition how they leave mistakes in their blankets and pottery to let the evil spirits out. Well mine have enough mistakes to open the gates of hell.
Friday, March 20, 2015
The Dark Abyss
It's funny what we can stuff into a closet. Things less used, or what we don't want to deal with so it gets pushed to the back.
My closet is getting a thorough cleaning. It has been gut retching to reach clear to the back. As I have made my way into the closet I had to step from the light into a dark abyss.
My closet has gotten deeper and deeper. My family witnessed my pain as I pushed things to the back and slammed the door shut again and again.
In my closet is sibling abuse, molestations, sexually explicit prank phone calls ( from as early as Jr. high up until I was first married) alcoholism, divorce.
I was a text book example of all these. I believed it was my fault that these happened. If I had just stayed away, not answered the phone. If I put it in my closet and walk away it will go away, it will stop.
These were my sins and no one had the right to them. I put them away. Far away.
I wondered if the Lord loved me. I have been haunted with sins for as long as I can remember. I soon came up with a unreasonable reason. None the less, it made it easier sleep. The thought even gave me comfort. I reasoned that some of us are "throw away people". Some people are born to endure most horrible things. Like babies that are brutally treated, young kids murdered. We are created for sin to be continued. So that not all have to taste of the wickedness the world has to offer.
I now know it is false, but for most of my life it kept my closet door closed. It kept one foot in front of the other each morning.
I kept my world small. I stayed near my closet. My parents finally made me go to college. It was a two year battle for them. I had graduated from High School and after two years they told me I had to go.
I signed up for a math class and a sign language class. My signing class was a joy. Then one day we had to individually sign a song in front of the class. I couldn't do it. I was too scared. After class the teacher pulled me aside and asked it I had been abused.
She saw into my closet. How dare her. What am I thinking being so far from my closet.
I never went back to school.
If you know me I love to learn. In the evenings you will hear Tom say "are you ever going to get off that damn computer?"
I lived my life around my sins that I shoved in that damn closet.
Tom and my kids know what hell I put them through. I constantly fought with Tom. Things would arise between my parents or siblings and I. If I pushed back I was afraid my sins would be exposed. I feared heaven forbid that people would see what I really am.
It is a joke that I am the weird one in the family. We all know someone has to be. Every family has one. Face it. It might just be you, only your family knows.
Anyway. I can live with weird. I was afraid if the whole truth came out I would be shunned, like I have cooties or something. I wouldn't be trusted because I had so much sin I hid for so long.
The ranch gave me the freedom I had longed for. I had a safe world. A world. I had something to study, learn, love.
Then the accusations started. They were connected to someone in my closet. Oh hell. My closet came alive. It reminded me that all they said had to be true. It had to be my fault. I let some out so I pushed against the door to not let my bad sins out.
I was so alone. Tom knew some of the sins levied against me. He wanted me to push back. Throw the door open and air it out. I couldn't. I called my bishop and asked him to remove my name off the records of the church. I was not going to let my sins out. I am a bad person for letting people sin against me. And now we are both going to hell.
My good bishop has tried to help. His help sounded so much like Toms so I ignored it.
I now open my closet, I now dig to the back, I now stand before you fully knowing those are not my sins. Those are sins against me. I did not participate. I don't have cooties. I am not a ugly monster. I am a good honest person. I have trials. My only sin is how I act or react to those trials.
I am sorry that I called the other ranch people and told them I hate them with every fiber of my being. I am truly sorry. I don't hate them at all. I hate their accusations because my closet got too full and burst open.
I know I stand here before you only because of the prayers that were said in my behalf. That is the only possible way the hinges on my closet weakened and fell. I had that door locked tight. My hand was on the handle at all times to make sure it was in check.
I want to publicly thank all those that prayed for me. I do know now the truth will set you free. I also see I have a long road of not trying to blame myself for everything. To stop judging myself by what others say to me or about me.
I am far from perfect. I am no therapist. But if there is anyone with a closet, I am here. I can help you take baby steps.
I am so ready to go to school. I am so ready to learn. It may start out as online classes but it is a start. Hopefully the Lord hasn't given up on me, but hopefully Satan will.
I know how it is to be in hell. My question is how long is the stair case to climb out?
My closet is getting a thorough cleaning. It has been gut retching to reach clear to the back. As I have made my way into the closet I had to step from the light into a dark abyss.
My closet has gotten deeper and deeper. My family witnessed my pain as I pushed things to the back and slammed the door shut again and again.
In my closet is sibling abuse, molestations, sexually explicit prank phone calls ( from as early as Jr. high up until I was first married) alcoholism, divorce.
I was a text book example of all these. I believed it was my fault that these happened. If I had just stayed away, not answered the phone. If I put it in my closet and walk away it will go away, it will stop.
These were my sins and no one had the right to them. I put them away. Far away.
I wondered if the Lord loved me. I have been haunted with sins for as long as I can remember. I soon came up with a unreasonable reason. None the less, it made it easier sleep. The thought even gave me comfort. I reasoned that some of us are "throw away people". Some people are born to endure most horrible things. Like babies that are brutally treated, young kids murdered. We are created for sin to be continued. So that not all have to taste of the wickedness the world has to offer.
I now know it is false, but for most of my life it kept my closet door closed. It kept one foot in front of the other each morning.
I kept my world small. I stayed near my closet. My parents finally made me go to college. It was a two year battle for them. I had graduated from High School and after two years they told me I had to go.
I signed up for a math class and a sign language class. My signing class was a joy. Then one day we had to individually sign a song in front of the class. I couldn't do it. I was too scared. After class the teacher pulled me aside and asked it I had been abused.
She saw into my closet. How dare her. What am I thinking being so far from my closet.
I never went back to school.
If you know me I love to learn. In the evenings you will hear Tom say "are you ever going to get off that damn computer?"
I lived my life around my sins that I shoved in that damn closet.
Tom and my kids know what hell I put them through. I constantly fought with Tom. Things would arise between my parents or siblings and I. If I pushed back I was afraid my sins would be exposed. I feared heaven forbid that people would see what I really am.
It is a joke that I am the weird one in the family. We all know someone has to be. Every family has one. Face it. It might just be you, only your family knows.
Anyway. I can live with weird. I was afraid if the whole truth came out I would be shunned, like I have cooties or something. I wouldn't be trusted because I had so much sin I hid for so long.
The ranch gave me the freedom I had longed for. I had a safe world. A world. I had something to study, learn, love.
Then the accusations started. They were connected to someone in my closet. Oh hell. My closet came alive. It reminded me that all they said had to be true. It had to be my fault. I let some out so I pushed against the door to not let my bad sins out.
I was so alone. Tom knew some of the sins levied against me. He wanted me to push back. Throw the door open and air it out. I couldn't. I called my bishop and asked him to remove my name off the records of the church. I was not going to let my sins out. I am a bad person for letting people sin against me. And now we are both going to hell.
My good bishop has tried to help. His help sounded so much like Toms so I ignored it.
I now open my closet, I now dig to the back, I now stand before you fully knowing those are not my sins. Those are sins against me. I did not participate. I don't have cooties. I am not a ugly monster. I am a good honest person. I have trials. My only sin is how I act or react to those trials.
I am sorry that I called the other ranch people and told them I hate them with every fiber of my being. I am truly sorry. I don't hate them at all. I hate their accusations because my closet got too full and burst open.
I know I stand here before you only because of the prayers that were said in my behalf. That is the only possible way the hinges on my closet weakened and fell. I had that door locked tight. My hand was on the handle at all times to make sure it was in check.
I want to publicly thank all those that prayed for me. I do know now the truth will set you free. I also see I have a long road of not trying to blame myself for everything. To stop judging myself by what others say to me or about me.
I am far from perfect. I am no therapist. But if there is anyone with a closet, I am here. I can help you take baby steps.
I am so ready to go to school. I am so ready to learn. It may start out as online classes but it is a start. Hopefully the Lord hasn't given up on me, but hopefully Satan will.
I know how it is to be in hell. My question is how long is the stair case to climb out?
Saturday, March 14, 2015
Birds Of A Feather Flock Together
I have been in a slump for quiet a few days. Thursday I was numb. I piddle around the house. Hum Ho.
Tom called and asked if I wanted to do a parts run with him. Might as well. Not much happening here.
I rode around not saying much. Staring out the passenger window. The wind blew my hair in my face, eyes, mouth, I just didn't care.
The end of last week I felt calm so I emailed some of the ranch rangers to see if the heat had died down. Just trying to see if time had made it possible to get through this ugliness. Well, one responded back with some heat. Another responded back with some vile. The last one wanted time to think about his answers. Later in the day I emailed the last one " never mind its not worth it".
The words in the emails were harsh. Bothered me. As I read the new accusations and added the old ones that have been said to me, I am still at a loss. They accuse but they won't give the circumstance so I can give my side. Let alone they have informed me that they won't believe what I say because I lie anyway.
Any who, I had been riding around about five hours, I remember it was a cloudy day. The wind was moving the palm trees around outside my window. It was almost like a summer storm brewing. My thoughts were gray and moving about just like the weather.
Suddenly I felt lifted. Lighter The sun that was hidden from sight had just penetrated my soul. I felt a smile cross my face. I witnessed a beautiful sky of many different colors of storm clouds with many shapes and sizes, a wonderful breeze blew through. The first thought that crossed my mind was, "is this is how it feels if people are praying for you?" The Lord knows I hadn't done much of anything to change my attitude. I had tried to read some church talks but they didn't find a friendly branch to flit on. They beat their wings and left very restless.
Friday I woke with a skip in my step, song in my heart and the ability to do my friendly banter with Tom. I believe he noticed instantly but he didn't draw any attention to my new attitude.
As I meditated, gardened, sewed, sang with the radio, shopped, became normal, it hit me.
They justify their actions with accusations.
If they have to sit around like a bunch of old broody hens sitting on a nest of accusations and cackling all day to justify how they treat others then there is nothing I can do about it.
Most people want to ask why did you;
steal from us
lie to us
That's is when I realized. I am a good person. I am a honest person. I am a kind person.
Just because someone says other wise, doesn't make it true.
Tom called and asked if I wanted to do a parts run with him. Might as well. Not much happening here.
I rode around not saying much. Staring out the passenger window. The wind blew my hair in my face, eyes, mouth, I just didn't care.
The end of last week I felt calm so I emailed some of the ranch rangers to see if the heat had died down. Just trying to see if time had made it possible to get through this ugliness. Well, one responded back with some heat. Another responded back with some vile. The last one wanted time to think about his answers. Later in the day I emailed the last one " never mind its not worth it".
The words in the emails were harsh. Bothered me. As I read the new accusations and added the old ones that have been said to me, I am still at a loss. They accuse but they won't give the circumstance so I can give my side. Let alone they have informed me that they won't believe what I say because I lie anyway.
Any who, I had been riding around about five hours, I remember it was a cloudy day. The wind was moving the palm trees around outside my window. It was almost like a summer storm brewing. My thoughts were gray and moving about just like the weather.
Suddenly I felt lifted. Lighter The sun that was hidden from sight had just penetrated my soul. I felt a smile cross my face. I witnessed a beautiful sky of many different colors of storm clouds with many shapes and sizes, a wonderful breeze blew through. The first thought that crossed my mind was, "is this is how it feels if people are praying for you?" The Lord knows I hadn't done much of anything to change my attitude. I had tried to read some church talks but they didn't find a friendly branch to flit on. They beat their wings and left very restless.
Friday I woke with a skip in my step, song in my heart and the ability to do my friendly banter with Tom. I believe he noticed instantly but he didn't draw any attention to my new attitude.
As I meditated, gardened, sewed, sang with the radio, shopped, became normal, it hit me.
They justify their actions with accusations.
If they have to sit around like a bunch of old broody hens sitting on a nest of accusations and cackling all day to justify how they treat others then there is nothing I can do about it.
Most people want to ask why did you;
steal from us
lie to us
That's is when I realized. I am a good person. I am a honest person. I am a kind person.
Just because someone says other wise, doesn't make it true.
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Evil is Never Satisfied
At my dads viewing I was enjoying visiting with all those that came. Family that I hadn't seen for a long time and friends that I hadn't seen for even longer. It was wonderful.
The bishop made a small announcement that it was time to close the door as the family was going to have a family prayer and close the casket. We quickly gave last hugs and said good byes to friends. I took a seat next to my husband and kids, with one fast look around the room there wasn't enough seats for all those who called themselves family some lined the walls. Did my heart good.
The bishop thanked all that was there and asked if Guys family could come up before the family prayer to say one last good bye and close the casket.
I stepped forward and had the most powerful feeling of darkness and dread. I remember putting my forehead on my dads as my shoulders started to shake, I held back a flood, but I released a low whimper.
As we left to head to the chapel for the funeral, I stopped to sign the guest book. My brother stopped next to me and said "nothing at the ranch is going to change". I nothing to say. It left me cold.
This was two years ago this month. I have been harassed needlessly, senselessly since then. Not just about the ranch but also my parents trust and how it needs to be distributed and closed.
Plenty has been said to me and about me. I felt powerless, betrayed, hurt. My husband and kids kept loving me, insuring me that I was not a bad person, that I was being bullied.
I couldn't see it. Families don't do that to each other. It is a misunderstanding. We are all hurting and just need time to heal, talk, understand.
It got uglier as time passed. Hurtful, harmful.
I wrote my brother a email on how he has bullied me now and as children he abused me. Lied about me. Took so many people that I love from me. His reply "hope you feel better".
I learned he shared it with other family members and they laughed about my true, raw feelings.
I didn't sleep well. Haven't throughout all this, but I got up around 2:30 am. I did some research on bullying and sibling abuse. My heart fell. Who ever wrote these articles described my life, my choices I had made, my most inner thoughts. How did they know me? Who are these people? Do see how I see?
That morning we had a small gathering at the mesa cemetery to commemorate an uncle who died in Iwo Jima. A warm welcome from some cousins. A cold feeling others.
Hours later I found Tom in the front yard, buried my head in is chest crying and said "I am 53 years old and just realized the bullying will never end".
Just previous to this I was laying in bed, Thinking of how many kids have committed suicide from being bullying. I never could understand why. Just walk away, just get far from the bully, Simple,
It's not. The bully is never satisfied. They need the rush. It ran through my mind the only option I have is death.
The dread I felt the day of the funeral was a warning that one of my barriers is gone. My mom passed within five months and the gates of hell were thrown wide open.
My new trial has began.
The bishop made a small announcement that it was time to close the door as the family was going to have a family prayer and close the casket. We quickly gave last hugs and said good byes to friends. I took a seat next to my husband and kids, with one fast look around the room there wasn't enough seats for all those who called themselves family some lined the walls. Did my heart good.
The bishop thanked all that was there and asked if Guys family could come up before the family prayer to say one last good bye and close the casket.
I stepped forward and had the most powerful feeling of darkness and dread. I remember putting my forehead on my dads as my shoulders started to shake, I held back a flood, but I released a low whimper.
As we left to head to the chapel for the funeral, I stopped to sign the guest book. My brother stopped next to me and said "nothing at the ranch is going to change". I nothing to say. It left me cold.
This was two years ago this month. I have been harassed needlessly, senselessly since then. Not just about the ranch but also my parents trust and how it needs to be distributed and closed.
Plenty has been said to me and about me. I felt powerless, betrayed, hurt. My husband and kids kept loving me, insuring me that I was not a bad person, that I was being bullied.
I couldn't see it. Families don't do that to each other. It is a misunderstanding. We are all hurting and just need time to heal, talk, understand.
It got uglier as time passed. Hurtful, harmful.
I wrote my brother a email on how he has bullied me now and as children he abused me. Lied about me. Took so many people that I love from me. His reply "hope you feel better".
I learned he shared it with other family members and they laughed about my true, raw feelings.
I didn't sleep well. Haven't throughout all this, but I got up around 2:30 am. I did some research on bullying and sibling abuse. My heart fell. Who ever wrote these articles described my life, my choices I had made, my most inner thoughts. How did they know me? Who are these people? Do see how I see?
That morning we had a small gathering at the mesa cemetery to commemorate an uncle who died in Iwo Jima. A warm welcome from some cousins. A cold feeling others.
Hours later I found Tom in the front yard, buried my head in is chest crying and said "I am 53 years old and just realized the bullying will never end".
Just previous to this I was laying in bed, Thinking of how many kids have committed suicide from being bullying. I never could understand why. Just walk away, just get far from the bully, Simple,
It's not. The bully is never satisfied. They need the rush. It ran through my mind the only option I have is death.
The dread I felt the day of the funeral was a warning that one of my barriers is gone. My mom passed within five months and the gates of hell were thrown wide open.
My new trial has began.
Saturday, February 21, 2015
That's Why It Is Called A Half Truth
When I was twenty I talked my mom and a good friend into going to one of the "Concerned Christian" meetings. It was at the Mesa civic center.
When we walked in, we found seats but there was lots of people standing along the walls. Standing room only puts it about right.
This meetings had been going on for quite a few months. They jumped right into why the Mormons were no good people, and us, the audience need to be told the truth. While they read scriptures to us from the Book Of Mormon to prove the god forsaken thing that were on the pages between the bindings of that book, and the religious cult that it inspires. Within twenty minutes people would stand up in the audience and ask if they could tell their story. Wow, the hate, the enmity.
My mom was so upset, her and my friend left. Me I had the heart of setting a truth straight.
As they read scriptures again I stood and said loudly "those are lies, can I come up to set this straight?"
Let's say they ignored me. But others were allowed to go up. Soon some rowdies in the back started to chant "let her come up". Then the crowd got restless. In a flash I was headed up.
What the crap. It was a sea of strangers and I was completely alone. I got to the mic and asked for their Book of Mormon. I explained that they weren't reading the whole verse. I soon found the page they were on and read the verse before, the verse they they had half read, and the one following. The atmosphere changed immediately. People walked out. But the sponsors tried to undo what I had done.
As I started for the door a gentleman stopped me and asked me where I had served my mission. He said I bore a powerful testimony. I don't recall what I said. I know I witnessed a change over the crowd.
There are untruths being said about Tom and I. I have learned that accusations are just that. They are not questions to be answered but untruth believed by some. Put forward by a few.
ac·cu·sa·tion
ˌakyəˈzāSH(ə)n/
noun
plural noun: accusations
- a charge or claim that someone has done something illegal or wrong."accusations of bribery"
synonyms: allegation, charge, claim, assertion, imputation;
- the action or process of accusing someone."there was accusation in Brian's voice"
I am a defender of truth. I can be called passionate. Now Tom can be called a true defender of truth. He can be called a patriot.
Steve has spread half truths. Gossip. To the point that my sister questioned my integrity and now my ranch partners.I am not the type to remain quite. You don't lie about the gospel and you don't lie about my family.This is my side. If you feel inclined you can contact me for my side. It is my understanding that some have been contacting Cody for his side.That's why it is called a half truth.
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