Appearances

I wish I felt beautiful all the time

I wish I could trust you with my life

I wish I could live, dance, just be, without a care

But to be human is to be self-conscious

So I pretend I am all these… and wonder if anyone sees through the mask.

Life is about appearances. It's about the phone you have, the people you hang around, the person you're dating, the car you're driving, where you live… but life begins when we stop making it about them, and start making it about you. Are you doing things for them, or for you? Do you want to look a certain way for you, or is it for them?

Sometimes we feel comfortable hiding our true selves from everyone else. The problem is that we can't hide from ourselves. We know what we're going through. We know what haunts us.

And when we make mistakes, we want to take the easy way out. We want to pretend it's not there;

How do you think?

If you think you are beaten, you are;
If you think you dare not, you don't!
If you'd like to win, but you think you can't,
It's almost certain you won't.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you think you'll lose, you're lost;
For out in the world we find
Success begins with a fellow's will;
It's all in the state of mind!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you think you're outclassed, you are;
You've got to think high to rise.
You've got to be sure of yourself
Before you 'll ever win the prize.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life's battles don't always go
To the stronger or faster man;
But sooner or later the man who wins
Is the person who thinks he can!

Heart Prints

Whatever our hands touch...we leave
fingerprints on.
On walls, on furniture, on door knobs,
dishes and books.

As we touch we leave our identity..
Oh please where ever I go today...
help me leave heart prints.

Heart prints of compassion,
understanding and love.
Heart prints of kindness and genuine concern.

May my heart touch a lonely neighbor...
or a runaway daughter...
or an anxious mother...
or perhaps a dear friend!

I shall go out today...
to leave heart prints...
and if some one should say...
"I felt your touch!"
 

Confessions of a Closet Republican

Confessions of a Closet Republican

TIRED!!!!!!!!

Christmas Shoes (by: Newsong)

Damita Haddon - No Looking Back

Selah - Bless The Broken Road (with lyrics)

Chapter 4

Helen stares.

     "Tomorrow?" she repeats. "Where?"

     "The Blanc place."

     He studies her expression.

     "Busy day?" he asks. "Hair appointment?"

     He laughs. There is a strange pride in the way he teases her about her empty, frivolous days. He is the sole breadwinner now.

     "No problem. The Blanc place it is," she says.

     But Helen is seething. That means the local mall is out. That means it has to be the city centre again. She was there last week, when that middle-aged businessman followed her around. She knew he was plain-clothes security. He had the look. She was carrying her Debenham's bag; she always carries a department store bag with a number of purchased items inside it. A basic rule. And she was dressed well and carrying a good quality handbag. Her new one is Italian and black linen, full of expensive clues to background and breeding. Intimidation. The guy hadn't been intimidated though. He'd stayed close.

     In the city centre the following day, Helen avoids Harvey Nicks, too many close calls there, and heads to House of Fraser. A lanky kid in sweats shoots up from nowhere. He is behind her as she enters the store. He is still there at the jewellery counter. She is certain he is security; she has learned to spot them. Helen avoids looking at him. She picks up a scarf, replaces it, studies earrings, bracelets, tries one of them on her wrist, then puts it back. He waits, watching.

     When she takes the escalator, he is four people behind her. Lingerie will smoke him out, she knows that. It's worked well before. She can feel him. She glances at her watch and catches her breath. She is almost out of time. She has to be at the restaurant in half an hour.

Chapter 3...

  There are many things, she admits now, that Daniel does not understand. Things that are grey, with edges that are undefined, confuse him. He would not understand what had happened today in the department store.

     In the newly decorated bedroom of her immaculate suburban home, Helen places the earrings and scarf in the locked trunk with the other shoplifted items. There are hundreds of them now. Many hundreds. She calls them her gifts to the dark gods. She knows that it is the dark gods who turn the wheels of a tricycle and send the toddler screaming into traffic, the dark gods who guide children to falling fences, hidden currents and smiling strangers with death in their black hearts. She cannot afford to stop now, after such a soft, uneventful life. Who knows what vengeance the dark gods might take?

     She can't remember exactly when it began. It was soon after Chloe and Nick left for university, when she quit her job at the advertising company. When she became, as Daniel describes her, a lady of leisure.

     "We can afford it, sweetheart. Do charity work or something. No need for you to stress out in

     advertising."

     It started in Marks and Spencer's food hall: she stole a chocolate bar at the counter. A week later she took a magazine. It grew to two items a week. The rules gradually became more complex and demanding. The rule now is: two items a week by Friday at three in the afternoon. The items have to be from the same store, on the same floor, and they have to be different. Two scarves, for example, won't do. Today's items, the pretty scarf, the silly earrings, don't qualify because she has paid for them. The problem now is that she is behind. She is two items behind. And it is already Thursday. Tomorrow then. At the Mall.

     "Meet me for lunch tomorrow?" Daniel asks, as they have dinner. "That client we met at the Algarve. John Stanton? He's in town with his wife. " 

.....................................

Chapter 4

Chapter 2...

"Perhaps if I pay for these things now? " she asks.

     When she reaches her car, Helen is shaking too hard to insert the key into the car door. She stands still, taking deep, gulping breaths, willing herself to calm down. That was too close.

     They had almost called Daniel. The thought makes her light-headed. Her husband is a man of principle and firm opinions. A strong man, which is why she married him. He seemed the type of man who would take care of her. And he has. But his view of the law is simple and punitive. He thinks that teenage gang members who commit murder should be executed, that fourteen-year-old thieves should be tried as adults. Only yesterday they had disagreed over a youth arrested for stealing a bottle of cider in a local off-license.

     "It was an initiation thing," Helen had said. "His mother's a crack head. He wants to be part of the gang. He wants a family."

     Daniel had given her a long look.

     "He's probably been unhappy and hungry all of his life," Helen added.

     "Nobody's hungry in this country, " Daniel said. He actually believed it. "You heard of Benefits?"

     Helen thought of the people in the literacy programme – young and old, struggling with so many demons. Hunger was not unknown. Though her teenage pupils were more likely to eat badly than not at all, their problems went far beyond an inability to read or write.

     Daniel knows little about the literacy programme. He believes she teaches pensioners how to use a computer. He would not understand Amanda, the girl who carries a kitchen knife to make small cuts in her wrists when she is stressed. Or Zak, the boy with HATE tattooed on his forehead.

     When she first met Daniel, he was studying law and she was passionately involved in a course on Writing and Madness. She would quote Rimbaud, Breton. He teased her for taking this "foreign" literature seriously. He made her feel stupid for liking it, stupid for understanding it. An irony that did not occur to her until much later. 

...............................................

GIFTS TO THE DARK GODS. Chapter 1

The tap on her shoulder freezes her; the quiet, warning voice in her ear is exactly what she has feared. In a small dark place inside herself she is prepared for both. She had not expected a teenager.
     "Come with me please, Madam," the young man says, his back stiff with self-importance.
     He is young enough to be her son; young enough to be one of the troubled youths she tutors in the small charity-run literacy programme in the suburbs. She is tutoring a boy now: he has a tattoo on his forehead that spells HATE and eyes that dart around the room, alert for predators. This young man, though also dark skinned and mixed-race, keeps his eyes averted. He is smooth suited and smells of fresh citrus cologne as he grips her arm and leads her to the manager's office.
     The manager is tired and he lowers his pale lashes when he asks to see her ID, as if asking for something intimate, inappropriate. Then he turns to his computer.
     Helen swallows. This is new. As he scrutinizes the screen, then types something into the computer, fear knots her chest. Her name is now accessible to every major store in the city. The next time she is caught she will be arrested and booked. No question.
     "Is that legal?" she asks. "Storing information on someone who hasn't even been charged?"
     "You want to call your husband?" he replies, with a tiny smile. "Or a lawyer?"
     "My husband is a lawyer," Helen says.
     The manager blinks rapidly, the smile vanishes. The young man who had escorted her from the jewelery department leans against the door and makes a small groaning sound.
     "He'll be very angry if I call him," Helen says. "At me. Or at you. I'm afraid he's likely to make a big fuss about wrongful arrest."

     They understand her. She knows they haven't called the police yet. She is carrying a fat wad of cash in her purse, four credit cards, including a Platinum American Express and their own Valued Customer Card. She wears an emerald ring, an anniversary gift from her husband. The diamond studs in her ears are one caret each. She is easily able to pay for the designer scarf and the hard plastic earrings in the shape of sunflowers she was seen to stuff into her bag. Helen knows that what most disturbs them is that these are two different items, from two separate counters. But she always steals two items. That is one of her rules. It has to be two items, from different counters, from the same floor of the same store. But they want to let her go. They don't want trouble. 

.........................................................

chapter 2

By  Mary

Superficial?

Written by Kimberley,

Do you have any depth? I'm not asking about the face-to-face you that a privileged few might get to see. I'm talking about the social-media-out-in-front-of-your-thousands-of-follower/friends you.

I've read a lot of blogs lately about professionalism, social media, blogging, etc. etc. etc.

And it's made me think. A lot.

Do you think there's the "professional" you and the "personal" you?
Do you think there's a "social media" you and the person you are face-to-face with your closest friends?

Here's my two cents on this (and as you read this - think about whether you feel the same way):
-I can only be the best "me" that I can be. No one else can do it. Only I can. Same goes for you.
-I'm a real person with feelings and emotions and thoughts. Don't put me on a pedestal. Ever. I don't ever deserve that. Or want it for that matter.
- I do believe that there is a "public" and a "private" persona. But for me, I don't ever want it to be a facade. I'm still going to be real whether it's one-on-one or social media.

Now let me ask you a few questions. Feel free to comment with your answers or to email or  FB message me.

What do you look for in your networking - meaning - social media?
-Do you only want friends? Fans? Family?
-How much time do you spend on social media, blogs, forums each day?
-What interests you on social media? (for instance, I have people get upset if I don't tweet or FB enough about what I'm cooking - because that's what they want to know/see -and that's perfectly fine, because I love to cook, so it's fun to share with others)
-What makes you keep coming back for more? (websites, blogs, tweets, whatever - and I'm not just talking about here - I'm talking about every site that you like/visit)

Feel free to answer as few or as many as you like.

Why do I share this with you and ask you these questions? Well, frankly, I want to know your thoughts. And your opinion and thoughts are valuable here. And I really wanted to just get the discussion going about social media. Let's think about whether we are superficial or have some good ol' meaty depth.

Pride..The Lesson that keeps needing to be learned

 Courtesy of Kimberley,


Do you ever struggle with pride? Now be honest. Don't lie to me. Or to yourself.

Pride is the basis for well... let's just say it... all sin. Proverbs 16:18 puts it clearly: "Pride goes before destruction..." (NASB)

Think about it. Every sin you've committed - okay narrow it down to a few - think about the motive behind it. It had something to do with your pride, didn't it? We're such selfish beings, we want this, we want that, we want to do things our way, we can't stand anyone outdoing us, or someone having something we don't have, or worse - having people think badly of us. It's all pride. Pride. Pride. Pride.

A recent incident made me think hard on this issue of pride in my life. With the economy and other factors, we traded in our beloved and mucho decked out Expedition, Little Gracie. I loved her. We all did. She was comfy. She was huge. She had every bell and whistle Ford makes. The seats themselves could heat or cool your bum and move five kazillion ways. Everything was computerized and motorized and at your fingertips with a push of a button. She even had power running boards. (That if you moved too quick, you'd hit your shins on while they were whirring their way up and down.) :)

We were stinkin' spoiled.

But times are changing. We'd done so much traveling in beautiful Little Gracie, that her mileage was getting on up there for a young vehicle. We also needed to see where we could save money. Figuring we could save half (did you read that?) HALF of my gas budget if we downsized, we knew we needed to be good stewards.

The decision itself was easy. The dealership that we bought from made everything even easier and delivered everything to our house. BUT, my pride kicked in at the last minute when I thought of actually giving up my much-beloved vehicle. I thought, "it won't be the same!" (Waah, wah, whine, whine, grumble, complain.)

Thankfully, I have a loving Heavenly Father who graciously hits me over the head with the much needed proverbial 2x4 in times such as these.

WHAM! In that split-second, I knew my pride had gotten the better of me once again.

Who cares if it's not the same? Who cares that I'm not driving down the road in my swanky, oversized, over-optioned vehicle? Good grief, did you read that? It's totally ridiculous! Who cares?

I found myself laughing in the driveway. There are people in the world starving, homeless, orphaned, so how dare I balk in the face of all that - at merely saying goodbye to a stupid (excuse my use of the s-word) vehicle? That stinkin' pride. Always sneakin' up and givin' me grief.

Well, let me just tell you that after that brief moment of slacking (okay, so maybe it was momentS) there hasn't been one doubt in my mind. Material possessions have far too strong of a hold on this ol' world, and I don't want to be hanging on to anything like that. I'll hang on to Jesus. The Author and Finisher of my faith.

As I walked back up my driveway and as Little Gracie drove away, I looked at my kids. We've tried really hard to teach them about stewardship and about the fact that when we leave this earth, we're not taking any of this "stuff" with us. And for another brief instant, I was worried about them. Were they sad to see the vehicle go?

I asked them. And guess what? They laughed. They didn't care. They put their arms around me and said, "it's just a car, Mom. Who cares?"

Out of the mouths of babes. Again, I wondered how the good Lord could use an inadequate vessel like me to rear these two fine teenagers. I shook my head and laughed with them.

And we haven't looked back. As I'm zippin' around town in my little red Nissan, savin' gas money and singin' at the top of my lungs with my kiddos, it hasn't phased me a bit.

But imagine what could've happened had I let pride win that day? Well, you might not be able to imagine, but I can. And it ain't purty. Not at all.

Pride goes before destruction...

A BLOG A DAY KEEPS THE DOC AWAY

If you are a blogger there is one movie you must see – Julie & Julia.

The story is about a woman who is thoroughly bored with life and is on the verge of depression. She hates her job at a call center, her marriage has stagnated and she feels that her life has become static and there is nothing to look forward to.

Her husband introduces her to blogging, motivates her to start a blog, and start blogging about anything she likes. After considering various options, she picks up a cookbook The Art of French Cooking and decides to cook one recipe everyday and blog about it. In fact, one day when she does not post a blog, her angry fans ask her why, and this inspires her to make a commitment to herself and her readers to be regular in posting a blog. Now she has something to look forward to everyday – to cook a recipe and then write and post a blog about her culinary experience every day.

She starts feeling motivated and happy as her blog draws lots of readers, elicits numerous comments and evokes tremendous response, makes her famous, and finally culminates in her becoming a published author. Her days of depression are a long way off – a forgotten thing of the past.

That is the beauty of blogging. It gives you something to look forward to – yes, something to look forward to every day. Once you start enjoying blogging you will not sleep until you have posted something on your blog.

Blogging will make you happy as they say that the key to happiness is to have something to look forward to.

And do remember that you blog is your literary legacy in cyberspace for posterity – you may go away but your blog will remain forever.

Aren’t four things important in life – to live, to love, to learn and to leave a legacy.

Likewise there are four stages to enjoying blogging: anticipation ( looking forward to blogging), savoring the moment (enjoying the sheer pleasure of blogging and the joy of experiencing your creative juices flow), expression (sharing your creativity, interacting with fellow bloggers and friends in the blogosphere to heighten your experience) and reflection ( harking back on your blogging experiences by re-reading your old blogs and comments of your fans for happy nostalgic memories).

Dear reader. Start Blogging. Keep Blogging. Blogging will change your life – for the better. You can take my word for it. You will feel happy as you will have something to look forward to every day.

They say that: An apple a day keeps the doctor away.

Maybe they will say: A blog a day keeps the doctor away.

Happy Blogging.

ARE YOU READY FOR A LECTURE?

A renowned Management Guru entered a large lecture hall to deliver a lecture on Motivation to the employees of a large industrial organization.

To his horror he found that the large hall was empty except for a young man seated in the front row.

The Management Guru asked the solitary audience who he was.

“I am a Cook in the Industrial Canteen,” said the young man.

The Management Guru, pondering whether to speak or not, asked the Cook, “You are the only one here. Do you think I should speak or not? Tell me frankly, should I deliver my lecture?”

The Cook said to the Management Guru: “Respected Sir, I am a simple man and do not understand these things.  But, if I came into the Dining Hall and saw only one man sitting there, I would certainly give him food.”

The Management Guru took the Cook’s insightful answer to heart and with full gusto began to deliver his lecture.

He spoke passionately for over two hours delving in great detail on each and every aspect of the theory and practice of Motivation.

Immensely proud after his virtuoso performance, the Management Guru felt highly elated, on top of the world, and wanted his audience to confirm how fantastically illuminating and effective his lecture had been.

So the Management Guru pompously asked the Cook, “How did you like my lecture?”  

The cook answered,"Respected sir,I told you already that I am a simple man and do not understand these things very well.However,if I came into the dining hall and found one man sitting there,I would feed him,but I wouldn't give him the entire food I had prepared in the kitchen".

Well, this simple cook's wisdom is applicable in the context of "FOOD FOR THOUGHT" too, isn't it...? 

So,dear, the next time you speak, or conduct a training programme, remember this story...

And here are some tips on the four aspects of a good lecture:

HOW TO DELIVER A GOOD LECTURE

The lecture is still the most frequently used method of instruction. Even if you are not a teacher, in your everyday work you may be constantly using the medium of speech to convey a message or instruction or for informal training or motivational purposes. How well you put across your ideas depends to a large extent on now well you have mastered the elements of good public speaking.

An important pre-requisite of a good lecture is that it must be carefully prepared to the extent that you have a firm mastery of the topic you are going to discuss and a clear conception in your mind of how you are going to present the subject.

A good lecture has four simple requirements:

1. MESSAGE

The first characteristic of a good lecture is that it must have a message. The lecturer must have something to say and what the lecturer says must be worth saying and worth listening to. You must clearly bring out the importance of the topic and why the audience needs to hear you and unambiguously state your message so that the audience understands what you want to say.

You may have heard Aristotle’s dictum on rhtetoric: "Tell them what you are going to say, say it, and then tell them what you told them."

So, to get your message across, thus is what you must do:

Tell the audience what you are going to tell them

Tell them

Tell them what you have told them.

2. NATURALNESS

The second attribute of a good talk is naturalness. Remember, the audience wants to hear YOU so make it your own lecture, your very own talk – speak in your very own natural style, don’t try to copy someone else.

3. SINCERITY

The third feature of an effective lecture is that it must be sincere. The audience must be convinced that you believe in what you say, so make sure you talk sincerely and clearly demonstrate that you believe in what you are saying. Remember, you cannot fake sincerity so the only way to succeed in giving an impression of sincerity is to be sincere. 

And suppose you do not believe in something or are not fully convinced about a topic…well, why talk about something you do not believe in…? A Teacher must be true to her conscience and not live a lie.

4. ENTHUSIASM

Finally, last but not the least; a good lecture must radiate enthusiasm. An enthusiastic speaker is one who displays great eagerness to have his or her ideas understood, believed and put into practice. You should be passionate about what you are speaking about. If you want your audience to be enthusiastic about listening to you, radiate enthusiasm yourself while speaking.

So, in a nutshell, before you deliver your next lecture, keep these basic four principles in mind (message, naturalness, sincerity, enthusiasm) and you will deliver a great lecture – you can take my word for it.

MY GENERATION

I am part of a lost generation
And I refuse to believe that
I can change the world
I realize this may be a shock but
Happiness comes from within.
is a lie, and
Money will make me happy.
So in 30 years I will tell my children
they are not the most important thing in my life
My employer will know that
I have my priorities straight because
work
is more important than
family
I tell you this
Once upon a time
Families stayed together
but this will not be true in my era
This is a quick fix society
Experts tell me
30 years from now, I will be celebrating the 10th anniversary of my divorce
I do not concede that
I will live in a country of my own making
In the future
Environmental destruction will be the norm
No longer can it be said that
My peers and I care about this earth
It will be evident that
My generation is apathetic and lethargic
It is foolish to presume that
There is hope.

MOMMA I LOVE U..

Let us take a moment of the time just to pay tribute/show appreciation to the person called MOM though some may not say it openly to their mother. There's no substitute for her. Cherish every single moment. Though at times she may not be the best of friends, may not agree to our thoughts, she is still your mother!!! She will be there for you...to listen to your woes, your bragging, your frustrations, etc. Ask yourself.....have you put aside enough time for her, to listen to her "blues" of working in the kitchen, her tiredness??? Be tactful, loving and still show her due respect though you may have a different view from hers. 

Once gone, only fond memories of the past and also regrets will be left.

When you came into the world, she held you in her arms.
You thanked her by wailing like a banshee.

When you were 1 year old, she fed you and bathed you.
You thanked her by crying all night long.

When you were 2 years old, she taught you to walk.
You thanked her by running away when she called.

When you were 3 years old, she made all your meals with love.
You thanked her by tossing your plate on the floor.

When you were 4 years old, she gave you some crayons.
You thanked her by coloring the dining room table.

When you were 5 years old, she dressed you for the holidays.
You thanked her by plopping into the nearest pile of mud.

When you were 6 years old, she walked you to school.
You thanked her by screaming, "I'M NOT GOING!"

When you were 7 years old, she bought you a baseball.
You thanked her by throwing it through the next-door neighbor's window.

When you were 8 years old, she handed you an ice cream.
You thanked her by dripping it all over your lap.

When you were 9 years old, she paid for piano lessons.
You thanked her by never even bothering to practice.

When you were 10 years old, she drove you all day, from soccer to gymnastics to one birthday party after another.
You thanked her by jumping out of the car and never looking back.

When you were 11 years old, she took you and your friends to the movies.
You thanked her by asking to sit in a different row.

When you were 12 years old, she warned you not to watch certain TV shows.
You thanked her by waiting until she left the house.

Those teenage years

When you were 13, she suggested a haircut that was becoming.
You thanked her by telling her she had no taste.

When you were 14, she paid for a month away at summer camp.
You thanked her by forgetting to write a single letter.

When you were 15, she came home from work, looking for a hug.
You thanked her by having your bedroom door locked.

When you were 16, she taught you how to driver her car.
You thanked her by taking it every chance you could.

When you were 17, she was expecting an important call.
You thanked her by being on the phone all night.

When you were 18, she cried at your high school graduation.
You thanked her by staying out partying until dawn.

Growing old and gray

When you were 19, she paid for your college tuition, drove you to campus, carried your bags.
You thanked her by saying good-bye outside the dorm so you wouldn't be embarrassed in front of your friends.

When you were 20, she asked whether you were seeing anyone.
You thanked her by saying, "It's none of your business."

When you were 21, she suggested certain careers for your future.
You thanked her by saying, "I don't want to be like you."

When you were 22, she hugged you at your college graduation.
You thanked her by asking whether she could pay for a trip to Europe.

When you were 23, she gave you furniture for your first apartment.
You thanked her by telling your friends it was ugly.

When you were 24, she met your fiance and asked about your plans for the future.
You thanked her by glaring and growling, "Muuhh-ther, please!"

When you were 25, she helped to pay for your wedding, and she cried and told you how deeply she loved you.
You thanked her by moving halfway across the country.

When you were 30, she called with some advice on the baby.
You thanked her by telling her, "Things are different now."

When you were 40, she called to remind you of an relative's birthday.
You thanked her by saying you were "really busy right now."

When you were 50, she fell ill and needed you to take care of her.
You thanked her by reading about the burden parents become to their children.

And then, one day, she quietly died. And everything you never did came crashing down like thunder. "Rock me baby, rock me all night long."

"The hand who rocks the cradle...may rock the world".

Reminder from a Sad Story

Seize the day. Never have regrets. And most importantly, stay close to your friends and family, for they have helped make you the person that you are today.

Around the corner I have a friend,
In this great city that has no end,
Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
And before I know it, a year is gone.

And I never see my old friends face,
For life is a swift and terrible race,
He knows I like him just as well,
As in the days when I rang his bell.

And he rang mine if, we were younger then,
And now we are busy, tired men.
Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.

"Tomorrow" I say "I will call on Jim"
"Just to show that I'm thinking of him."

But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes,
And distance between us grows and grows.
Around the corner yet miles away,
"Here's a telegram, sir" "Jim died today."
And that's what we get and deserve in the end.
Around the corner, a vanished friend.

What is the most gracious act of kindness you have witnessed?

A family from the UK spends Christmas in a refugee camp in Northern Uganda, sleeping in mud huts, using pit latrines and fetching water from a well, to show the victims of the brutal 20-year civil war that they are not forgotten.