joyful!

February

Maybe Real

by

Mel Lees

Maybe Nostradamus and the Mayan math geniuses were not as wrong as we think. I am a non-believer but strange events are happening all around us. I am an old man who walks with a cane and I go slowly enough to observe things that I used to ignore.
    
Lately, when I go to cross an intersection, I see a new reaction. Now, the cars all around stop and the drivers wave me across. When I smile, they wave back and I mouth a `thank you` I receive a warm smile in return.  Instead of becoming angry at the driver for not waiting, I proceed with a warm feeling for my fellow humans.

Today, I went to Sierra Vista Hospital for a blood draw.  Diane, who checked me in, realized that I had been losing blood and that I had walked the mile plus to the out- patient department. “I get off soon. And I’ll give you a lift home.” Even after her hectic day, she was friendly and warm. I stopped at the cafeteria for a cold drink, and the lady who was closing, offered and gave me a plate of onions and went about her business.

On the walk home from the hospital, four people passed me, walking or running, and each of them gave me a smile and a `hello`. I passed a couple of neighbors who stopped to chat with me. What a wonderful neighborhood in which to live. Even in the gloom of autumn something has happened.   

The constellation alignment that believers are raving about must be affecting us all. With each warm smile, and “you”, my blood pressure reduces and my weariness departs.

I don’t care if the Mayans were wrong or right, I know that this is a fine time to be alive and enjoying life. Come join me and smile at everyone.

Motherly Love Touches a Songwriter

by

Rachel Unkovic

Washington, DC---Some of us think of baptisms as a quiet, onetime event with a few family and friends.  Most of the time, those ceremonies are quickly forgotten until photographs are pulled out of storage during family gatherings.  In the case of Kim Cameron, lead singer and songwriter for the band Side FX based out of Washington, DC, these experiences should never be forgotten. 

Attending a baptism for one of her friends in one of DC’s 200 year old Catholic Church, Kim recalls, “You can hear the history echoing throughout the halls as we walked into a small room across from the chapel. Covered with splashes of sunlight from the five small windows, the gray bricks began to warm the room.”

As Kim and her friends hovered over the small pale faced infant, they listened as the preacher spoke the traditional sacraments.  Kim said, “In just an instant, a stroke of sunshine beamed across the room and onto just two faces: the mother and the child.  Even though the child was being held by his aunt, I couldn’t help but notice where his attention was really focused.  This small room had this unbelievable, almost surreal glow and warmth during that moment.  And, for those few minutes, I saw something remarkable. “

A sight she said struck her to a point in which she needed to write it down.  This was only Kim’s third attempt at writing a song, but for her it was a compelling story that had to be told.  Kim went further with the song, ‘The Way You Look at Me’ and produced a music video with the infant as the starring role.  “My goal was to have the entire family in the video, but the mother had to work, so I only had the opportunity to shoot the husband and child,” Kim said. 

The Way You Look at Me has had air play for the past year on several stations – including American Airlines and jazz stations across the US and France. 

“I cannot pretend to understand motherhood having no children of my own.  I do, however, love seeing the dedication and sacrifices parents make for their children – so this song was really written for all the mothers in the world who might think that their kids forget about them – but really, they never do,” Kim said.

Author note:You can hear ‘The Way You Look at Me’ online at www.ilike.com/artist/Side+FX+Band/track/The+Way+You+Look+At+Me , or purchase the song on itunes or amazon.com under ‘Side FX’.

Kim Cameron and her band will be touring this winter in the US and in Asia.  To find out more about Side FX, their upcoming releases and the Turning Point: It’s your Turn tour you can visit www.sidefxband.net and www.kimcameronmusic.com. To see Kim’s video diaries visit the bands youtube channel at www.youtube.com/sidefxband.  Kim Cameron and the Side FX band offer an eclectic blend of pop, rock and jazz into a smooth, groovy listening experience.

STRESS AND STRUGGLES, TO LOVE AND SNUGGLES

By
   

Rebecca T. Besser

Yesterday my four-year-old was really cranky. He wanted to have what he wanted, when he wanted it. Nothing could be done to brighten his day, causing me stress and frustration. He continued to fuss and try my patience all the way to bed time, and then he refused to sleep, continuing to whine and complain.

My mother’s heart felt so bad for him, but I didn’t know what to do that would make him happy. Finally, I gave in, and got him out of bed. We snuggled under a blanket in our rocking recliner, and watched the movie he wanted to watch. Miraculously, he was smiling and laughing, and quite content to snuggle.

Then it occurred to me! I wonder if this is how God feels? We run around day after day, wanting what we want. If we don’t get it, we moan and complain. Spiritually throwing our little fits, we try to convince God to give us what we want, regardless of consequences. Not quite understanding that what we want could hurt us.

Perhaps, at times throughout the day God had sent us something good. In our ignorance we shrugged it off, discarded it, because it wasn’t what we had our eyes on. Like a grumpy toddler, wanting a chocolate chip cookie, and there is only oatmeal offered. We miss the value in what we have been given because we want something that we think is better.

Angrily we wonder why God isn’t doing the things in our lives that, according to us, just have to happen a certain way. When He is waiting patiently with open arms, longing for us to climb into His lap so that He can hold us. He wants to comfort us, to tell us why we can’t have something we want. He wants to tell us all the wonderful things that He has planned for our lives, now and in the future. We need to come to Him, relax in his arms, and calm down enough to hear what He wants to share.

Jesus says, in Matthew 11:28 (KJV) ‘Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’ Which plainly invites us to cast our cares on Him, with the promise of rest.

When we stop clinging to all our worries, we can be free to come to God. To be held in His arms, and be delighted by all the love and care He has to give us. We will be happier, and definitely have more peace and joy in our lives.

CROSSWORDS

by

Linda Manning

Dear Diary,

She learned English by doing crosswords, my mom.  I'm sure she picked up a few things from the people around her as well, but yeah, always doing crosswords.

When I lived too far away to visit regularly, I bought a Scrabble board.  I'd bring it with me every time I went to visit.  So, together, we learned the rules of Scrabble.  Rule number one: everyone draws a tile from the bag and the person whose tile is closest to the letter 'A' goes first.  Well, there was only the two of us, so that was an easy rule to meet.  I always kept score in the manner that she'd taught me in so many other games we'd played in the past.  The numbers were aligned haphazardly in two columns: 'You' and 'Me.'  Seven tiles in each rack, a glass of red, and we would laugh at all the funny words that seemed to write themselves.  There was never a shortage of laughter.

Her formal education did not exceed the sixth grade, and although I couldn't keep myself out of school all those years, she still beat me at this game on a regular basis.  Oh, the power of the crossword. 

Years passed and with every visit I watched her hair grow a little more gray, her body a little more weak and her ability to finish a game a little more the challenge than the tiles on her rack. 

More time passed as did she. 

I met some new friends who invited me to a party on 'Talk Like a Pirate Day.'  Like any good game, the party also had rules.  Wearing an eye patch or sporting a parrot on your shoulder were among the favorites, but the main attraction was all the imaginative ways to use the word 'Arrr.'  I didn't go, of course, still sad for my loss.  Instead, a friend came to my house to play Scrabble with me.

I pulled the board out of the box and below it was a sheet of paper with numbers on it.  At the top, 'You' and 'Me.' 

I left two wet circles on my friend's shirt, then we sat down to play.  He pulled out a tile; it was the letter 'A.'  I thought, 'No way you could be so lucky.'  I reached into the bag.

And pulled out the letter 'A.'

Now, I have to tell you that in all the years of playing Scrabble with my mom, never had we both pulled out the same letter, let alone the letter 'A.'

Amazed, my friend pulled out another tile.  This time is was the letter 'R.'  I had to laugh since I'd just missed a party where these letters were in ultra-high demand.  I reached into the bag and pulled out a tile I was sure would make me the first player.

It is with God's honest truth that I tell you this, my friend.  I looked at my tile and sure enough, it was the letter 'R.'

As we fell over in uproarious astonishment, we laughed all the harder as we heard something banging through the pots the pans.  “Mom!” I said, “The next one's gotta be different!”

They were.  His was 'V' and mine was 'T.'  I went first, and pulled a rack of letters that spelled themselves: 'Teaser.' 

For the rest of the night, amidst strange and funny letter combinations, I thought about those letters she'd given me: ART.  And I remembered my auntie telling me that Mom would not want me to be sad.  So I share this with you, her laughter in my art.

An Agonizing Incident - Sometime During High School

by

Joseph S. Spence

The game was very exciting and the audience was on its feet. Moving down the field with the ball, like a snake gliding through water, I had a clear shot of the goal posts.  Eyes fixed on the goalie my right foot went back and started forward in a swinging motion for the winning shot.  Suddenly, from out of nowhere a player slid into the path extending his legs to block the shot.  Tripping over his legs, I could not maintain my balance.  If my memory is correct I screamed, “Oh my God!” The fall was heavy like a jack hammer striking a rock.  Bam!  Darkness followed.

“Joseph you are awake?”  The sound came from a soft motherly voice with her warm right hand on my forehead.  She was there as always praying in earnest for her dear son, Joseph. 

“Where...where am I… mom; what happened?” I mumbled intermittently.  Trying to move was agonizing as the pain released a barrage of tiny needles all over my body. “Help me Lord,” I uttered softly.

“Joseph, you fell and broke…I am so sorry, I know it must hurt. We are all praying for you.  The headmaster said it was an accident and things like this just take place without anyone knowing when.”   

Trying to reaching down to scratch my right leg was tedious and the needling pain was unbearable.  Things went from bad to worse when the fellow started crying in the adjoining room from agony and pain. I heard every syllable he pronounced; some good and some bad.  Suddenly, the realization came to me that I was in a hospital with a cast on my leg and it was elevated with a sling.

The taste of medication was on my lips; awful!  It certainly did not taste like grandma’s apple pie.  It was bland and nauseating.  The smell of the place turned my stomach like a Ferris wheel.  Coming to terms with the moment and what happened made my heart beat like African drums at a festival.

My mother had stepped out the room for a moment to speak with the doctor and my friends who came after she walked out just had to make my day by giving me a blow by blow description of the events. I was getting mad. Then one of my buddies slipped me a tasty chocolate ice cream fudge.  He almost got into trouble with the nurse because it was dripping and she saw him.  She told me I could not have it and I remembered saying, “Oh Really!?” It took away the taste of medication.

My friends eventually left and rage rose within me with the setting of the moon because I could not get out of the bed.  “How long have I been here mom?”  I asked. 

My mother said, “You hit your head when you fell and was out. We thought…thank God you’re okay!”  She kissed my forehead.

I could feel the bandage around my head and just wanted to rip it off because it made me feel like a bandit from the pirate movies, which I was not.  “Why is it that bad things happen to good people?” I asked my mother. 

She told me to calm down and started to sing a gospel song, “Jesus, Jesus how I love thee…”  My mom was such a wonderful singer.  She used to sing me to sleep at night. Reflecting on life, I certainly could use her singing right now.

Realizing I would have missed the exams I had studied for so diligently and it was time for finals—I screamed out loud, “Lord why me?!”

My mother said, “Jesus, will someone call the nurse?!”

After a long and restful night I was sent home the next day.  My mother was there with her Bible reading, praying and singing. The sunlight was wonderful but blinding to my eyes, and made my headache vibrate like a cymbal. I told my mom and she gave me her stray hat to wear.

I remember to have said to her that the hat was far a woman and not a man.  She said to me, “Beggars are not choosers.”  That made me gave a big chuckle while limping with the crutches. Then she said, It’s such a blessing to see you smiling and gave me a hug me.  Tears came to my eyes and she said, “It’s okay.”

The entire experience to me was traumatic and unforgettable; however, she turned it into a memorable experience for a son and his mother.  One just has to know my mom, with her bible and singing she can turn night into daylight.

When anyone a school asked, “Would you like to play a game of soccer Joseph?”  I just waved and smiled while recalling the incident as if it were yesterday.

According to The Three Visions by Ngorchen Konchog Lhundrub, I can truly say, if not for this physical injury and suffering I would have only been busy and traveled the road of becoming intoxicated with pride and arrogance. I may have never obtained mindfulness for the acceptance and rejection of virtue and non-virtue.

As a result, the injury has caused me to evoke within strong renunciation of many things in this world. Living in this manner, my injury and suffering transformed me on a path of enlightenment. Moreover, the good qualities of suffering assisted me to dispel pride by sadness, and generate compassion for others, thus developing an aversion for non-virtue, and a fondness for virtue.