Pre Op Exams... the Surgery I do not want.

I have pre op tests and preparations today for the pending surgery on January 8.  As I walked with my beloved shepherds this morning my fear has grown and my resolve to allow the surgery has weakened. I honestly do not want to go through with it.

The past surgeries... breast, melanoma, throat, thyroid, liver biopsies, I went through for the sake of my family.... but they are now gone and each surgery left me more of a shell of my former self.  I can't stand the sight of me in a mirror...   Maybe that is the Creators joke one me... "don't like looking at yourself, well give Me time, and you won't have to. "

But, that's the point isn't it?  Time?  If I let them operate in January I may be out of time; IMMEDIATELY.  If I don't the vision will worsen and I will eventually lose it even with glasses that will eventually end up looking like coke bottles... but I will have TIME.  Time to maybe complete the next 18 months of work and retire and NEVER have to take a hand out from the government.  I can't stand or live with the though of being on SSI... or welfare. Time to find a one story single family home to live in so I can take care of myself and not be dependent.  Time to sell the Jeep and say good bye and thank you for the joy of driving. Time to make sure my dogs have a place that is secure where they can run when I can't take them for long walks any more.  Time

Truth is, and God knows it to be true, is that I would much rather be dead.

For the first time I am honestly asking God... why?

The silence is deafening.

Lenses from her glasses
soon-

will be ground into sand.

Then they can sift through a
perpetual glass prison
in an hourglass heirloom.

Upon death,
the living grind glass
and add vision to the timepiece
so the rest of the chain
can see glints of stray light
and insight from
ancient eyes
that flash into
young pupils.

Each contribution
lengthens time
as each old ghost
lends a hand
to the living

The Mountain I Must Climb... Acceptance... A Word I Must Now Learn..

Tri-Care approval certification for my upcoming surgeries arrived in the mail yesterday; hammering home the reality of what is to come on January 8, 2015.  It was also a rainy day and I was hit VERY hard with how difficult seeing has truly become.  I have only been driving for 7 years… but even with this one eye, driving in the rain has been a challenge as the water on the road totally distorts things and in fact I “lose” the road.  Boy did I lose the road yesterday!  White knuckling it all the way to work, I thanked God for getting me there safely and thanked Him again for NOT letting it rain as I drovehome.  I was also VERY grateful that I come into work as early as I do because it reduced the amount of traffic I encounter (with lights on)  I have learned that the sunlight and the lights of numerous cars coming at me or behind me make seeing even more difficult and downright painful.

I still do NOT want to go through with this surgery but the reality is that if I don’t let them try; I will definitely be completely blind within about a year.  So I have to take the risk, now, of letting them operate and try to save the vision in the only eye I have been able to see out of since I was 12.  I keep holding on to as much of the positive as I can while preparing for the worst.  What will it be like if, after the bandage is removed, my vision is gone for good? Then too, will the tumor turn out to be cancerous?  Odd are high in that favor.  If it is cancerous will they get it all or has it already moved on to other places?  If so, where?

Then, if this does not turn out well, what will the future hold? I think it will be the change that will be the hardest part, not the vision loss itself. People born blind don't need to struggle with this aspect; people like me who lose their sight later in life do.  Funny thing is that, since the age of 12, it has been one of my greatest fears. Add to this that I just learned to drive 7 years ago (after being told for years by first my father and then my late husband that people with vision in only one eye could never drive).  I now know the freedom and independence of driving… I don’t want to lose it.  I greatly value my independence.  Dear God, I don’t want to NEED anyone and I don’t want to burden anyone… Not ever!   (Acceptance Bonnie, acceptance)

The most destructive part of losing one's sight is the feeling of incompetence.  I've broken or cracked more than half of my set of drinking glasses by dropping or knocking them over. I vacuum up electrical cords because I forgot to check for stray cords. I've walked into walls by accident. I've stepped on my dogs too many times to mention, and I'm afraid that one of them holds a grudge. I listen to TV more than watch it and I can’t work the long hours I once did on the computer, even with larger font settings as a gray cloud now descends once the eye tires and I can’t see through it.  The headaches become debilitating.

I'm the kind of person who hates feeling inept. I like doing things well; to a certain degree, I continue to do most things well. At times, I feel like a failure at adapting. When I misplace something for the umpteenth time, I find myself berating myself for not being better at going blind. I practice going up and down the stairs without the lights on and with my eyes shut.  I practice pouring myself coffee and doing mundane household tasks blindfolded. I wonder if I will be able to walk my sweet shepherds. Will I rise to task of being blind if God so ordains it?   How will I make a living?  I won’t accept SSI or handouts.  Am I young enough to learn a new way?

One of the more discerning aspects of vision loss is how my conception of myself has changed. Even though I've known that this was a possibility since childhood, I've never thought of myself as ever blind. I'm starting to think of myself that way now. I've stopped squinting, thinking that I would see well, only if I tried harder. The path to acceptance is a slow one, full of cracked glasses and disgruntled cats, but I'm getting there. Acceptance may have to be my new key word.

I can’t tell you how much I would/will miss the wonders of God’s world.  As I put my Christmas tree and other decorations up this year, I did so slowly and lovingly; understanding that this could be the last time I actually SEE all of them.  I pause, even while at work, to admire the heavens, the horizon, the distant mountains and to thank God that I still have eyes (eye) to see.  I walk more slowly around the neighborhood and in my beloved Superstition… trying to memorize every bit of beauty I can see; just in case.

The hardest part has been accepting that I may never see the face of my beautiful daughter Mary again, or my sixteen-year-old granddaughter, Jessica. The last time I saw her was when she was only 12 and I find it almost unbearable not knowing what she looks like now.  I can’t accept that I may never again look into the eyes of my oldest son, Doug, who has his father’s eyes… and see a part of his dad looking back at me as well.  I can’t accept the fact that I may never again see the smile of my youngest son James and also see a part of his dad smiling back at me as well.  Acceptance…  I have to learn the meaning of that word.

 During this Holy Season, I am relying heavily on our heavenly Father and His beloved Son to guide me along this path.  It is, after all, totally in His hands

Merry Christmas from Ranger and Ruger

A Christmas Poem From My Dogs Eyeing hydrants, digging holes, Drinking from the toilet bowls . . . Playing games of "tug-o'-war," Putting scratch marks on your door . . . Rolling over, playing dead, Getting dog hair on your bed . . . Scaring folks who bring the mail, Chasing balls, as well as our tails . . . Barking, begging, heeling, howling, And also, on occasion, growling . . . Romping through a field of grass, Sneezing, snoozing, passing gas . . . Sniffing everything we see, Peeing on the Christmas tree? . . . Woofing, wagging, chomping, chewing . . . These are things we sure love doing! (But, mommy we'll try not to do that tree thing . . .) Happy Holidays!

My Response to my Fur babies

I look into your eyes and can see,
The trust that is built between you and me.
You never judge me when I am blue,
You are  the friends that are always true.
The life you lead is like that of a child,
Sometimes your calm and sometimes your wild.
We walk outside every day,
And that is when we all like to play.
If life was as simple as it seems to be for you,
We would be content and happy too.
Your loyalty is one of love,
You are gifts from heaven above.
Its hard to think of you as just my pets,
When you are the best friends I could ever get.
I know to most your only the dogs that live here,
But to me your the friends that are always near.
Who make my Christmas complete

Now, let's see if mom can find you a treat.

A Child of the Universe.... (for those I love.)

You are a child of the universe,
No less than the trees and the stars;
You have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you
No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
And remember what peace there may be, in silence.
As far as possible without surrender,
Be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly,
And listen to others,
Even the dull and ignorant;
They too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
They are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
You may become vane and bitter;

For always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
No less than the trees and the stars;
You have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career,
However humble;
It is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
For the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
Many persons strive for high ideals;
And everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
For in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
It is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the council of the years,
Gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline;
Be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
No less than the trees and the stars;
You have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
No doubt the universe is unfolding;
As it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
Whatever you conceive Him to be,
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
In the noisy confusion of life,
Keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham,
Drudgery and broken dreams,
It is still a beautiful world.
Be careful. Strive to be happy.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;
You have a right to be here.

Join Me for A Cup of Tea with the Potter.

I'm a Little Tea Cup..

There was a couple who took a trip to England to shop in a beautiful antique store to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. They both liked antiques and pottery, and especially teacups.
 (me too)

Spotting an exceptional cup, they asked "May we see that? We've never seen a cup quite so beautiful."

As the lady  handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke, "You don't understand. I have not always been a teacup. There was a time when I was just a lump of red clay. My master took me and rolled me, pounded and patted me over and over and I yelled out, "Don't
do that. I don't like it! Let me alone," but he only smiled, and gently said, "Not yet."

Then WHAM! I was placed on a spinning wheel and suddenly I was made to suit himself and then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I yelled and knocked and pounded at the door. "Help! Get me out of here!" I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head from side to side, "Not yet."

When I thought I couldn't bear it another minute, the door opened. He carefully took me out and put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. Oh, that felt so good! "Ah, this is much better," I thought.

But, after I  cooled he picked me up and he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. "Oh, please, stop it, stop, I cried." He only shook his head and said, "Not yet."

Then suddenly he puts me back in to the oven. Only it was not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I
just knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. I was convinced I would never make it. I was ready to give up. Just then the door opened and he took me out and again placed me on the shelf, where I cooled and waited and waited, wondering, "What's he going to do to me next?"

An hour later he handed me a mirror and said, "Look at yourself." And I did. I said, "That's not me. That couldn't be me. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful!"

Quietly he spoke: "I want you to remember. I know it hurt to be rolled and pounded and patted, but had I just left you  alone, you'd have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I know it hurt and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened. You
would not have had any color in your life. If I hadn't put you back in that second oven, you wouldn't have survived for long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. Now you are what I had in mind when I first began with you."

The moral of this story is this: God knows what He's doing for each of us. He is the potter, and we are His clay. He will mold us and make us and expose us to just enough pressures of just the right kinds that we may be made into a flawless piece of work to fulfill  His good, pleasing and perfect will.

So when life seems hard, and you are being pounded and patted and pushed almost beyond endurance; when your world seems to be spinning out of control; when you feel like you are in a fiery furnace of trials; when life seems to "stink", try this.

Brew a cup of your favorite tea in your prettiest tea cup, sit down and think on this story and then, have a little talk with the Potter.

Let's Take the X out of Christmas

Sometime during the last century (it is difficult to find an actual beginning), the word “Xmas” began creeping into public correspondence and advertisements. It was a little thing, hardly noticed by anyone, but it set the stage for a profound movement away from “Christ” in any public discourse. X is, of course, the universal symbol for the unknown.

Quietly and unobtrusively at first, but rising to a crescendo of legal and governmental attacks against Christianity, the words and the symbols of the gospel message are being purged from open expression.

A steady drumbeat of lawsuits, threatening letters, and joint amicus briefs have been generated by the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), the Americans United for Separation of Church and State (AU), and other national organizations such as the Freedom From Religion Foundation, pounding away at any semblance of the Christian message. The ACLU even has a separate unit dedicated to the fight for the “equal treatment” of all religions, euphemistically titled the ACLU Program on Freedom of Religion and Belief.

There are many examples that could be given, but here are just a few that have developed in the past several years.

·        The fight over the World War II memorial cross in the middle of the Mojave Desert is still being waged between the ACLU and Congress. Meanwhile, someone has stolen the cross.

·        The city of Avon Lake, Ohio, placed a sign in front of City Hall that read, “Remember Christ is in Christmas.” The AU objected and the city took it down.

·        The Parks & Recreation Committee in Menominee, Michigan, was going to place a crèche in the band shell of a public park. The AU claimed this would violate the Establishment Clause and the committee
built a “holiday display” instead that contained all of the “winter” symbols.

·        Handel’s Messiah was performed in Holladay, Utah, during the Christmas season, for which the city provided a “discount” to the choral and orchestra for the use of government facilities. Strong letters were written to the city and the city leaders caved in. No more Messiah in city venues.

·        A public school in Connecticut was using an evangelical chapel for graduation ceremonies. Some teachers, parents, and students complained that they were “forced” to view a large cross and hear music that spoke of Jesus and salvation. This was very “offensive” to them. The result: lawsuits and judgments declaring unconstitutional the use of “religious” venues for public school ceremonies.

In human terms, the ACLU is large and successful, with over 500,000 members and dues-paying supporters, 200 staff attorneys, and offices in all 50 states. Other organizations, like the Freedom from Religion Foundation, are quite small, with fewer than 16,000 members. Texas has its own Texas Freedom Network that brags on its website that its 45,000 members have become a “trusted” source for all the major print and news networks in the nation.

All insist, of course, that they are “only” defending the Establishment Clause of the Constitution, and that all individuals are free to “worship” however they wish—just don’t try to do it on any public or government property.

President Barack Obama and wanna-be president Hillary Clinton (along with a vast majority of Democratic politicians) have started using the term “freedom of worship” instead of “freedom of religion.” That small change has vast implications should those words signal a change in official policy. Freedom of religion implies your freedom to assemble, proselytize, and conduct your personal life in a manner reflective of your religious beliefs. Freedom of worship is and can be limited to mere personal and private expressions of religious beliefs, negating all public demonstrations of what one believes. Worship can be confined to a designated place—or restricted to one’s private thoughts.

Mark Twain once observed: “The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter.”

The President of the United States NOW refers to a Christmas Tree (Christmas is still a National Holiday) as a “holiday tree”. “Holiday” is the Anglicized form of “Holy Day.” The original meaning has been totally lost. “Holy” has nothing to do with our holidays. The term has come to mean “no work.” We are conditioned to think of weekends as “regular holidays” and the “special holidays” as mere extensions of free time in which we can do pretty much whatever we want to do.

Halloween has been prostituted from the original All Hallows Eve in which one was supposed to prepare for worship the next morning on All Saints’ Day. Granted, the “eve” fairly quickly turned into sensual and mischievous license, since one was assured of confession and absolution the next day. Now, Halloween has become the most glaring promotion of wickedness and demonic representation imaginable—all in the name of “fun” and “celebration” and with absolutely no thought of seeking confession and absolution.

Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter! (Isaiah 5:20)

We were hardly out of Halloween (the advertisements for which began sometime in late August), mostly skipped Thanksgiving (which had little to do with any giving of thanks), before we rushed into the “winter holidays”—the secularized, sanitized, and commercialized version of Saturnalia, the pagan and sensual ritual of worshiping the winter solstice. In the words of a rather well-known slogan, “You’ve come a long way, baby.”

Christmas, even for many Christian families, has become more about the giving of gifts than the Giver of Gifts (James 1:17). Churches all across the country will host organ recitals and promote cantatas, dramatic extravaganzas, and musical productions that stress entertainment more than the eternal message of forgiveness, salvation, and the coming King.

May I humbly suggest that more of us need to spend time with our families teaching them the wonder and majesty of God’s incarnation. The first 14 verses of John’s Gospel need to be read to our children along with the section in Philippians 2:5-11, in addition to the first three chapters of the Gospel of Luke.

Those who have positions of leadership in their churches or at their places of ministry should try to encourage their pastors and other leaders to keep a strong emphasis on the reason for Christ’s birth. All too often the baby Jesus is left cute and cuddly among the barn animals, smiling benignly up at the poor shepherds.

Oh yes, we repeat the song of the angel chorus and tell of the wise men who came from afar to give the gifts of honor to the newborn king.

Please understand. The actual birth of Jesus was absolutely ordinary in every human way, even if the story is gripping in its emotion and wonder. The miracle was the conception. The good tidings were that God had become man to “save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21).

Please take the “X” out of Christmas.

A Wonderful Life

Its A Wonderful Life

I have always been a woman who honors and celebrates tradition... and I will probably go to my grave being an old fashioned traditionalist. This is never more apparent then at Christmas time.


To me, holiday traditions are sacred and when Doug and I first married, I began bringing those traditions to life in our family... something he initially shyed away from as he did not much care for Christmas back then but which, in our later years, he came to love and got into the spirit with.. It is traditions that keep memories alive and lets them be rekindled with each holiday, birthday, anniversary... or something as simple as a walk in the park.

When the children were small, we would bundle up on the day after Thanksgiving, and head out to the country to cut down a Christmas Tree... Doug was highly allergic to pine (hard on a hunter and hiker) but always cut one down (chosen by the "special" child that year) and helped me get it into the house. I would have them string popcorn and make ornaments while we watched movies and sipped cocoa and I strung the lights (one light on every branch, carefully wired).  My oldest son, Douglas, became a wonder at untangling and testing lights for me... something I know he hated but did with love for the season.

One of my favorite Christmas holiday traditions is the watching of holiday movies from A Charlie Brown Christmas with the playful snoopy and philosophical Linus, to Garfield's Christmas which always makes me think of my children growing up and turning the lights on our tree for the first time, to The Bishops Wife and my all time favorite Its a Wonderful Life ( one of my greatest memories is of my oldest son Douglas as a young adult yelling out "ZuZus Petals!!"... how I hold on to those memories).

In 1946 Frank Capra had no idea his sentimental small town "fantasy" would become a seasonal favorite of our age. In this movie, it is Christmas Eve, the night of miracles, and George Bailey certainly needs one. After a life time of helping others, he is giving up on his own life. He is broke, disgraced, facing prison, and in deep despair over a savings and loan shortage that truly is not his fault. After angrily wishing that he had never been born, he is about ready to throw himself off of a bridge into a raging ice cold river, when he is rescued by his guardian angel who temporarily grants him his wish by showing him what the world would have been like if he truly had never been born.

George, like to many of us, truly believes he has never had a lucky break but when he steps back, away from himself, and see things as they really are, he realizes that all of his choices, as painful as some may have been, were the right ones. He is also a wealthy man... oh not in material things but in the important things of family, healthy children, work, and more friends then his house can ever hold at one time. He realizes that, quite frankly, it is a wonderful life he is about to throw away.

So today, admid some major turmoil and health issues, I too am stepping back to take another look at my life and I invite you, dear reader, to do the same. We can step back and take a look at our lives and the lives of those we have touched. One of the unexpected blessings of writing my latest book of poetry has been in going back over what seems like ordinary moments in my life and mining them for meaning. Writing a poem about an encounter, mistake, regret or a conversation is very revealing -- probably even more so then keeping a journal. Every day while writing that book I have had a topic to meditate on, usually a title or a quote and always a fresh clean blank page. Generally, I find out what I am writing about only AFTER I am well into it or even revising the poem for the fourth of fifth time. And, in this process, what I have learned, as can you, is that I truly have enjoyed a wonderful life. That knowledge resonates within me today, as I work on writing my first novel,  and for that I am deeply grateful. Obviously, there are many things I wish I had not done and crisis I have brought upon myself; but now I see that experience is nothing more then a loving teacher, much like my friends and neighbors.

So in this Christmas season, and for those yet to come, I hope you will seriously consider writing your own meditations and gratitudes of life. Start slowly. Write just one a week or even once a month. Search for the sacred in the ordinary for it is there... present in all things. Nothing in a life is too insignificant to be a source of inspiration.

We do not write in order to be understood... we write in order to understand.

If you start out writing your own thoughts, meditations, and gratitudes, what you will remember, recognize, and understand is that Its A Wonderful Life!!!

Remember to enjoy each wonderfilled day to its fullest! 

Christmas IS about Presents...

One of my favorite books  is Louisa May Alcott's "Little Women". After my Mary became a teenager, I often felt that the main character, Jo, reminded me of her; strong, quick to anger, quick to forgive, caring, nurturing, feisty and highly intelligent. In this book Jo is quoted as saying "Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents"... She states this during what was a major civil war and when money let alone food was hard to come by. Even then, Christmas was about gifts and it always has been. As uncomforable as this may make us feel with all of the emphasis on gimme, gimme,gimme; buy, buy, buy, or charge, charge, charge, it is a sad fact of our world... even many of those who are not Christian have adopted Christmas in some form with this exact idea in mind; Christmas is about presents.

So, you, like me probably admonish(ed) our children to remember the reason for the season, even though we apparently have difficulty remembering it ourselves while we are caught up in the chaos, the materialism, the commercialism (to paraphrase Charlie Brown) of Christmas.

So, today, I am meditating on the Real role of gifts in the Christmas story (and no, I do not mean a fringed lampshade sitting on a net stockinged base). I am talking about those gifts that were wrapped in miracles, which is probably why we will never find them in malls, or on line, or in a catalog...

The first gift was the gift of Spirit, also known as unconditional love.

The second gift came from a young Jewish girl named Miriam; she gave the gift of selflessness. She completely surrendered her ego and will which was needed to bring Heaven down to earth.

Then we have the gifts of her fiance/husband Joseph which were trust and faith. He trusted Mary when she said she had not laid with another man and he believed in the divine plan that was sent to get them through what was truthfully one horrid mess.

The Christ child brought the gifts of forgiveness, second chances, and wholeness; repair.

The choir of angels brought the gifts of comfort, joy and peace as well as the reassurance that there was nothing to fear. They brought a reason to be joyful.

The poor little shepherd boys gift was generosity as the only thing he had to give was (no not a drum song) his favorite lamb.

The innkeepers wife gave gifts of compassion and charity in the form of a dry safe place for a homeless family to stay, her best cover to wrap the new born baby in and a meal for the family and hay for their beast of burden who had carried them all that way.

Then there were the three kings from the east who had followed a bright star in search of a royal birth that sages of yore had said would lead them to the birth place of the King of Kings. On their camels backs were treasures with which to honor the baby's arrival. But when they arrived they were NOT led to a palace. They found this newborn prince in of all places a cow stall. How shocked these Wise Men must have been as they unwrapped their gold, frankincense, and myrrh... expensive gifts to be sure. But their real gifts were pricelss as they were wonder, acceptance, and courage. They offered wonder by surrendering logic, reason, and common sense. Accepting the impossible, they suspended skepticism long enough to double cross the insane King Herod who was frantically searching for the child who it was said would change the world. And, with courage, at the risk of their own lives, these Wise Men helped the young family escape to a safe haven in Egypt until the danger had passed.

Oh yes, Christmas is truly about gifts. It is nothing but gifts. But oh such wonderous gifts. Gifts tied not with bows but with heartstrings. Gifts that surprise and delight long after the newness or the "battteries" wear out. Gifts that nurture the souls of both the giver and the given. Perfect, authentic, soul driven, gifts. The gifts of Spirit all wrapped up in a frightened teenage girl, her bewildered boyfriend, a child, angels, a shepherd boy, an inkeepers wife and Three Kings. The gifts of the Magi.

Unconditional Love.
Selflessness
Trust
Faith
Forgiveness
Wholeness
Second Chances
Comfort
Joy
Peace
Reassurance
Rejoicing
Generosity
Compassion
Charity
Wonder
Acceptance
Courage.

These are the gifts I long to give and to receive this year. Yes the economy is hard and money tight.. and the gimmees are still running wild. But to give such gifts as these... to truly open our hearts to receive such gifts gratefully is the gift the Universe offers to all of us, no matter what our religious belief.

Christmas just won't be Christmas without any presents... How right you were little Jo...

Amen 

A Song of Thanks for Every Day That Remains.

Today, I wait to watch the new sun that rises for me and finish writing out my Christmas cards. As I watch the breaking of the dawn, I see that everything speaks to us of passion, everything is alive, everything has spirit and it invites us all to simply -- cherish it.

Years ago, I read a marvelous poem, actually an elegy, written by Thomas Grey titled "Elegy in a Country Courtyard". The poet wrote this particular piece as he wandered through a graveyard back in 1750 at twilight -- very much how as a teenager, I would wander Mount Albion and contemplate on the meaning of life, the toil of those who had achieved and of those who did not. I would think, and still do, of the mockery of ambition, the struggle of both the rich and the impoverished to be happy, and the eventual realization that no matter what our circumstances in life, we all finally rest in some fashion "upon the sweet lap of earth". Gray felt that this was not much as simple joys are forever gone, destiny is obscured;

"For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn

Or busy housewife ply her evening care...

the paths of glory lead but to the grave."

However, in my walks through that cemetery, and recently among cemeteries here in Mesa, Apache Junction, Bryce Utah, and the Oak River Creek where I scattered my beloved Doug's ashes... I do not feel that sense of despair. I used to take rubbings of old tombstones (kind of want to do that again in my 60s now) and in some ways came to know and love the people long ago laid to rest beneath them. It was there that I often sat and wrote prose or poetry, singing a song of praise for every day that we have remaining... writing an elegy for every day that slipped through my life unnoticed and unappreciated. Thanking the Universe for giving me eyes that can truly see and a heart that can truly feel.

 How many of my readers are aware of their own poet/songwriter inside? Far too often in this surreal techno world we move through our days in a fog or a frenzy -- until we are startled into consciousness by an unforeseen threat to something we hold dear and have been taking for granted for far too long.

I call these opalescent moments "simple epiphanies" because they jar me into a profound awareness of how much we have, and how much we have escaped, and how much there is to be grateful for. My beautiful granddaughter, Jessica, asked me (close to our last wonderful weekend spent together for well over six years) why I did not seem to be bothered by things. I smiled and told her that it was not that I was not bothered, as I often was, but that I was able to know what was most important to me now... and that is love, and peace and following my own path. I call that GRACE.  Grace always brings me home and Grace brought my beloved granddaughter back to me this past August.

Through the mystical alchemy of Grace and daily gratitude, what might have become an elegy to my life is transformed into appreciation, joy, and exultation. My own recovery or that of a loved one who has been seriously ill, the reconciliation after a painful breach between mother and children, the realization of how very lucky we are if we are doing work we love or, in this current economic climate, if we are working at all, the rejoicing that surrounds us at a long awaited rite of passage, the enormous satisfaction that comes after completing an overwhelming task and, one of the most important to me today, is the serenity that awaits us after a struggle has been abandoned.

The loss of my beloved Doug, Cancer, the anger of children, the absence and now the return of a beloved grandchild, the loving support of friends are my epiphanies and they teach me to cherish everything. Everything speaks to our souls, with great passion, if we are still enough to listen and willing to hear.

Jane Seymour once wrote "You have to count on living every single day in a way you believe will make you feel good about your life so that if it were over tomorrow, you'd be content."

Amen Ms Seymour. Amen.

Although I do have regrets, I know, even more deeply today, that I have given all the very best I had and that I have lived my life in a way in which I am proud. Am I perfect? Hell no. Will I make mistakes in the time God still gives to me? You betcha...

 But I will write a song of thanksgiving for every day that remains....

LET GO OF THE FOLLY AND THE GLIMMER... NOW IS THE TIME TO REMEMBER.

At this time of year, our attentions are more often turned to those things which we do not have...rather than what we do. The season of want is upon us and by that I mean the season of non stop shopping. Thanksgiving is only just behind us but long before we were planning our dinners, setting our tables, and really giving thanks, stores, newspapers, and commercials were blasting Christmas and want all over the place. Now, it is black Friday and the four hurried, frenzied, chaotic, often angry filled weeks of shopping are ahead... but where is Christmas?

How many of us believe that if we head out to the malls today that it will do our souls good? Time for a reality check? As we were all counting our blessings yesterday how many of us actually focused on them and were not simply giving a rudimentary form of lip service to the "season"? Money is going to have to buy a lot this season and as our economy worsens, this may be the "new norm", however, it can NEVER buy the gifts that count the most: good health, a loving supportive marriage/relationship, healthy children and grandchildren, the fulfillment of creative expressions, a general love of nature, good friends or inner peace. How often do we forget this? No, it is NOT because we are ungrateful but because we get distracted by the folly and glimmer of "life".

NOW is the time to remember. What if the Universe suddenly gave you a choice? You are guaranteed all of the afore mentioned gifts (blessings) but you cannot have that new house or 42 inch TV? Or you were granted those material things but literally throw the dice to determine life's blessings? What would you choose? For me, this option has been brought to me several times... and though I may not have the best of health etc... I am glad that I have been blessed and that a fancy home, material things, and status mean nothing to me.

So today, as I watch the beginning of a new dawn, I am meditating on the blessing of health. Heaven knows we cannot buy it but it can sure put us into a world of debt don't you agree? Sadly good health is NOT for sale. Health is a priceless gift from God that most of us take for granted until we become sick. So today, take a moment to ponder and realize that even if you have nothing else, if you have your health you are wealthy indeed. If you have a healthy heart, healthy mind, and reserves of energy and stamina as well as creative energy and the ability to see beauty in all things, the world is literally lying at your feet. Where there is life, there is hope.

As I continue to battle cancer and at the start of the New Year, face surgery that will either save my site or blind me immediately, I am reminded that health is NOT just the absence of sickness. To me, good health is vitality, vigor, high energy, emotional equilibrium, mental clarity, and physical endurance. These are the gifts I pray for.

So this morning, I will take my vitamins (lots of those now), thank God for the health I do enjoy and ask for more. If there is only one spiritual lesson I can give to you today, it is to ask. Then believe

Ask and you shall receive. Ask and be specific and if you don't get it well at least you tried and the Universe is holding that request for just the right time.

Blessed be.

I love this time of year... particularly Thanksgiving as, to me, it truly is a time to remember all that we have to be Thankful for. A 21 lb. turkey is thawing in the refrigerator... waiting for Thursday morning when I will smoke it over hickory wood after stuffing it with a cornbread, sage sausage and apple stuffing. Mashed potatoes, gravy, sweet potato casserole, baked beans, stuffed acorn squash, green bean casserole (of course), corn on the cob, ambrosia, blueberry and banana nut muffins, and home made bread along with three kinds of pies await my guests (neighbors and a few airmen from Luke's Air Force base.) Before they get to enjoy the repast, however, each will be required to tell me one thing they are Thankful for this year... for that is the true meaning of the day; remembering to give Thanks. At this time of year, our attentions are more often turned to those things which we do not have...rather than what we do. The season of want is upon us and by that I mean the season of non stop shopping. Thanksgiving will only be just behind us in 5 days, but long before this, while many of us were planning our dinners, setting our tables, and really giving thanks, stores, newspapers, and commercials were blasting Christmas and want ads all over the place. Now, this year black Friday is being held 7 days ahead of the norm and so there are now FIVE hurried, frenzied, chaotic, often angry filled weeks of shopping ahead... but where is Christmas? How many of us believe that if we head out to the malls today that it will do our souls good? Time for a reality check? As we were all counting our blessings yesterday how many of us actually focused on them and were not simply giving a rudimentary form of lip service to the "season"? Money is going to have to buy a lot this season and as our economy worsens, this may be the "new norm", however, it can NEVER buy the gifts that count the most: good health, a loving supportive marriage/relationship, healthy children and grandchildren, the fulfillment of creative expressions, a general love of nature, good friends or inner peace. How often do we forget this? No, it is NOT because we are ungrateful but because we get distracted by the folly and glimmer of "life". NOW is the time to remember. What if the Universe suddenly gave you a choice? You are guaranteed all of the afore mentioned gifts (blessings) but you cannot have that new house or 42 inch TV? Or you were granted those material things but literally throw the dice to determine life's blessings? What would you choose? For me, this option has been brought to me several times... and though I may not have the best of health etc... I am glad that I have been blessed and that a fancy home, material things, and status mean nothing to me. I wish I had been able to impart that feeling to my own children. Ah well. So today, as I watch the beginning of a new dawn, I am meditating on the blessing of health. Heaven knows we cannot buy it, but it can sure put us into a world of debt don't you agree? Sadly good health is NOT for sale. Health is a priceless gift from God that most of us take for granted until we become sick. So today, take a moment to ponder and realize that even if you have nothing else, if you have your health -- you are wealthy indeed. If you have a healthy heart, healthy mind, and reserves of energy and stamina as well as creative energy and the ability to see beauty in all things, the world is literally lying at your feet. Where there is life, there is hope. As I continue to battle cancer and other health issues, I am reminded that health is NOT just the absence of sickness. To me, good health is vitality, vigor, high energy, emotional equilibrium, mental clarity,and physical endurance. These are the gifts I pray for So this morning, I will take my vitamins (lots of those now), use my eye drops, take the thyroid medications and more... while thanking God for the health I do enjoy and ask for more. If there is only one spiritual lesson I can give to you today, it is to ask. Then believe Ask and you shall receive. Ask and be specific and if you don't get it well at least you tried and the Universe is holding that request for just the right time. Blessed be.

A Day of Magic and Miracles

Since my layoff from Qwest Communications back in 2008, and after being un employed for 9 months, selling off my stocks, closing out my 401K and using every last bit of savings before even taking the meager unemployment that Arizona laughingly offers people (240.00 a week which will not even pay a person's rent let alone utilities, food, car, gas, etc) I finally landed a job through a temp agency... and I have been working temp jobs ever since. I have managed to keep myself gainfully employed over these last almost 7 years despite the serious economic restraints of our deteriorating government and my own health issues. However, I also have had to deal with the gut wrenching fear of NOT being employed again when each contract job has ended, not having any paid sick leave or vacation time. Yesterday, all of that finally came to an end. My current contract with Alcoa was coming to a close. Their general policy is NOT to retain their contract workers (no direct hire) after one year... so the panic was already setting in. Initially they denied any extension my Manager Jeff was requesting. Then he came up with a wonderful brainstorming idea... and I was informed late yesterday afternoon that I am to remain with HIM for as long as I want. Some duties will change (more will be added) and my office location will not longer be in his building (even though I will be still working directly for him) but the Plant Manager (who already sought me out to edit and publish the weekly news letter and to assit him with the monthly business report) wants me up in the main office section to be the "face of the business" This will take me some getting used to as I don't like being out in front of people but, I will adapt. Jeff worked magic and miracles over the course of this past week to ensure that not only does he get to keep me (I have made a great deal of successful strides in my year at the plant, including getting the plant upt to 100 percent trained over the last 7 months -- a feet that has never happened) but he has insured that I will now have paid medical time off and paid holidays and vacation time. All of this JUST in time for the major surgery I face in January. When he came into my office yesterday he said.. "Bonnie Pike would you please stand up." In all honesty, I was certain I was being terminated that day and walked out. However, Jeff said... I am a hugger so deal with it and gave me a big bear hug as he said... you are not going anywhere.. I get to keep you on my payroll indefinitely. For the first time since I left Pensacola... and my job with Centre Group Properties... I finally feel valued as an employee and as a person. I was taught to work hard by depression era parents and not to expect warm fuzzies, but I was also raised in an era where companies and employees had loyalty to one another. That era has rapidly diminished but in this young Manager and my Plant Manager (who is the same age as my oldest son Douglas) I have found those solid beliefs, work ethics and apprecatiation. I have found a home. Financial woes will not go away as I stil fight to regain my footing after those very bad 9 months of unemployment, cancer which will not stop rearing its ugly head, and the wonderful government taxation system hell bent on keeping most us as the working class poor. But I have a job I love, a great team I work with.... and I have been acknowledged for my hard work and loyalty. Something that has not happened in a very long long time. I saw my one eye specialist again yesterday as they do bi weekly test on the tumor growing in my good eye. The tumor has not grown any larger... whew. So my time line is still safe. I will see her again in two weeks to have it reviewed again. January 8 is still the set date for this frightening procedure which will either save my sight or destroy it immediately. I also heard from my brother Joshua. They are expecting another baby... another girl! How is that for a day willed with Magic and Miracles. God is good... and today is another wonder-filled day. Now off to clean the house, play with my shephards, and then head out to celebrate with friends. So much stress is still ahead of me... but so much weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.

Millenials.... the culture that may destroy America

Youth culture has become the dominant popular culture upon which most of Western society fixates. Technology has created virtual public spaces thus increasing popular culture’s perceived ubiquity. Any object or totem that can successfully package itself as "novel" acts as a metallic fishing lure.  Often within hours the object is existentially justified as "popular" because it appears to be "popular", creating a feedback-loop. 
Our accelerating obsession with youth culture is symptomatic of a secularized society unequipped to cope with mortality. The regeneration of every ephemeral pursuit promises a new distraction. In addition to entertainment, we embrace the social signals that we believe that object will confer onto our public identity or “personal brand”; a thin sticker to peel and place on our chest for others to see.  Millenials are a generation who have taken a Madison Avenue maxim and turned it into a creed; “Perception is Everything”.
The proverbial cultural landfill is brimming with exercise videos, political slogans, actors, electronics, game consoles, makeup, car parts, t-shirts, gourmet-fads, and compact discs; the ego’s excrement. And so this week, certain politicians find themselves in a pile of collective detritus half covered by an NBA poster and a ‘War on Women’ bumper sticker. A proverbial dump truck backs in to drop two tons of Gaga, old iPods and reality-shows on top of it. [beep, beep, beep]
 In the absence of higher cultural values, rudderless citizens have a tendency to conflate their own self-worth with surface-level choices such as sports teams, health trends, pop-music, and platitudes of every stripe. A secularized society has vested so much of themselves into low-hanging cultural signposts that to critically evaluate culture is increasingly "a hate crime". Our prejudice against prejudice has matured into oppression.
Millennials have a galaxy of information at their fingertips and yet it turns out, as a mathematical reality, more options means more difficulty in prioritizing the valuable ones. An idling computer alone represents access to billions of pieces of data but the scarcity of time has not changed. Furthermore, the more valuable a cultural choice, the less it appeals to immediate sensory stimulation or ego patronage.  Our predecessors tacitly understood that this “transcendence” was what separated us from the animal world. Even though the physical world could not be transcended in this life, no matter how high we elevate our culture, the act of "ever-trying" was piety itself. Millenials are not merely satisfied with allowing room for relaxing visceral entertainment, they require that we view those choices as "equal"; an act of ego protection no doubt. 
Economists will recognize this as the ratio of “risk” and “reward”. You defer the immediate sensory gratification of flipping through pictures of “cats in costumes” and instead invest in studying Tocqueville or Bach. Millenials wish to view all choices as options sitting in a vending machine. Our choice is based off of what the packaging purports to do for us “here” and “now”. Press B6 for Socrates or C10 for Gangnam Style. Millenials’ attitudes are the result of general prosperity and low birth rates; infantilized adults believing they are "intellectuals" by 18 yet have not earned nothing. It's intoxicating to believe that using a touch-pad while sitting on your couch precludes you from the same fate as your predecessors. How anesthetizing to disconnect one's ego from the responsibilities and achievements of history! To cast the Founders as "Otherness", as if we won't end up in the same single-sentence byline 2000 years from now.
 As an avid hiker I have developed a saying:
“Of those strangers I meet on a mountain’s summit, I do not know much, other than they did not get there by accident.”
This is why I eschew the “I voted” stickers and Facebook badges that make their rounds on Election Day. If you were so apathetic or distracted that a sticker was the impetus for you to make far-reaching decision, then you probably don’t share my values. Hmmm… the “I voted” sticker… what an opportune example of what we’ve been articulating thus far; a distracting social signpost that essentially communicates nothing other than to confer cheap altruism on its wearer.   
The situation is cyclical. The millions who invest their fleeting lives into surface level distractions also have a vested interest in protecting their own ego. Thus the only true sin under the “dictatorship of relativism” is to recognize that The King Has No Clothes.
To millenials Obama is merely sticker whose surface is no longer distracting. Sitting in the dumping grounds of good intentions is a smelly balled-up diaper that reads "Hope & Change 2008" on the rear. [beep, beep, beep].

"Hey,Joe what do you want me to do with all this Hope & Change?"

"I dunno, go park it by the incinerator, let's go grab a sandwich"

Obama is a 20-watt bulb who uncorked the tired swill of collectivist-utopia for a generation that lacked the perspective and maturity to contextualize it… but that is not why he’s become unpopular with Millenials.
Instead Millenials have turned away from Obama because his kitsch has grown tired; he no longer distracts us and that's intolerable. We have spent the pittance of visceral sentimentality and embracing the Obama badge no longer projects cheap altruism onto our “personal brand”. We are left with an empty totem that is neither "novel" nor "nostalgic" (comes from the Greek word for Homesickness).  The Obama brand was projected and received as a piece of art whose legacy can be summed up in 3 meaningless words "He was black".
Dissenting voices should not take Obama's abandonment as a sign that Millenials have embraced the higher values of industriousness, self-determination, tradition, responsibility, and the American Enlightenment. On the contrary, in true Millennial fashion most stayed home, disillusioned with politics they are seeking out other distractions. In the meantime utopianism will need to find a novel coat of paint in order to represent itself to Generation Z. It's ironic that a culture obsessed with newness leverages the tastes of youth who are in the weakest position to define what is "new" or "progressive" since they have the shallowest wells upon which to draw.
Millenials are an infantilized generation. Our commercials are set to toddler-like xylophone/guitar melodies. Our applications are dressed in sophomoric imagery "smiley suns" and "frowning rain clouds". Even our signage is soft bubbly and maternal; banal niceties that in decades-past would have been more befitting of a nursery. The lower-case ‘f’ on Facebook is “cute” and the soft-blue Twitter bird is iconography out of a potty-training book. Perhaps language itself will be deemed too "disruptive" and "counter-current" to our pleasures in which case we can communicate with sentimental shapes and tears. 
My younger brother asked me why Drudge Report and American Thinker appear so atavistic compared to other contemporary sites. I replied, "Its because the value is in the ideas". Isn't there something refreshing about the understated design of American Thinker? Like its peers, it fails to pander to novel sentimentality. It only bequeaths its rewards to those willing to think!   
Sometimes I feel as though I am slamming on the doors of the preschool saying "let me out" and in unison the collective says "that's not very nice." Perhaps it is already “The Brave New World” wrought with “warm fuzzies” and Soma drug (pot?) to anesthetize a generation fixated on its own reflection.
Millenials are adult children lying in a crib looking upward with etch-a-sketch minds as a digital mobile slowly revolves for our sensory pleasure. If it doesn’t make us feel good “here” and “now” we’ll throw it out of our crib.

In the Natural Order of Life, Most of Us Will Live to See Our Mother's Die...

In the natural order of life, women (and men) live to see their mothers die.  As inevitable as that event may be, it is still an especially traumatic and complex loss for a woman. Whether her relationship with her mother was close and loving, distant or distressed, death stirs deep emotional responses which may be difficult to manage or resolve.

My mother, Mary Carr Breuilly, left this world one year ago today, November 9, 2013…  The news of her passing came not from my sister but from friends who had ensured that I was kept up to date on her health and happiness despite the distance that kept me so far away.  Sadly I learned that her happiness was lost when she was placed into a nursing home… a fate she had dreaded all her life.  I learned this from so many of her old friends and neighbors… I wish my sister had called.  I would have brought her to be with me.

I live with that knowledge now, daily, and grieve even more the loss of her and the loss to so many.

How I wish I had been with you

Whispering words that would soothe,
To guide you gently to that door.
So I could give you the confidence
Of the relief I know you now find there,
The solace and comfort of your next adventure,
The shedding of your once beautiful shell,
Delicate now in all the years and gravity,

How precious you will always be to me,
And how life will embrace you again,
Glorious journey of curiosity and glimmering,
Shining hope of another journey.

The heart of a now broken family

My beautiful mother,

My once-upon-a-time,
Savior of my perseverance.
Today, though far away,

Let me quietly sing to you of
What I know you have now found

The  Light,
The gateway to the Next.

I love you Mom. Be at Peace

We will all be together again

One day, soon.

One day, soon.

The impact of a mother’s death ripples through several circles of an individual’s life.

The loss can be felt in a number of ways, from practical to emotional to spiritual. If the relationship was close, the loss of emotional intimacy is profound. If the relationship was ambivalent or troubled, researchers say, unresolved feelings of anger or frustration may become stronger and more disturbing after the mother’s death.

 Typically, a woman/man must deal not only with her/his own reactions to a mother’s death, but also those of the family. Women and men often are expected to be a source of strength for all in the grieving process. He/she has lost a mother. If he/she has children, they have lost a grandmother. The quality of these and other relationships may have varied dramatically, and the survivors’ needs may be quite different.

 If the mother was an integral part of her daughter’s/son’s family life—cooking, caring for children or helping family members get along with each other—then the loss may be crippling for the family as a whole. The child care crisis may threaten the family’s financial stability. Rifts among family members may worsen without the matriarchal “glue” that once smoothed them over.

 A person may find their closest relationships unsettled by the loss, as well. For instance, a common response for some (this included me) is greater involvement in work and other external interests.

Another person may more often turn inward. He/she may struggle through a range of emotions and may, for periods, lose interest in routine or outside interest.

Grief has no prescribed timetable; normal mourning moved through endless forms.

Regardless of the nature of the loss, it presents and often demands an opportunity for emotional growth and self-knowledge. And, I know that my mother is with her beloved husband Ed Breuilly, her sisters and friends…

I hope my journey to meet them is not too long…  I miss her… all of them… so very much.

Heaven has another sweet angel… I miss you mom.

As I journey toward life's sunset
Mourning her who went before
Faith assures me, I'll be with her
When I reach the other shore.

The Next Two Years will be Dangerous Ones for Our Country and Her Citizens

President Obama and his "regime" took yet another, and more serious shallacking yesterday in the midterm elections. The Republicans won landslide victories throughout the country!  Congratulations to each and every one of them!

Voters clearly and forcefully rejected the party, politics and policies of President Obama. They slapped his socialist agenda back into the days of Soviet gulags, where it belongs.

His grand visions of mighty government ruling unchecked over desperate ghettos have been snuffed out.

Gone, too, were the so-called “low-information voters” who have been coaxed to the polls since 2008 on lies and false promises that the federal government would solve all their problems.

They are used up and wrung out.

Even the onslaught of threats and desperate accusations in endless emails to their Obamaphones couldn’t motivate those people to the polls one more time.

Voters rejected the craven, crass and Mafioso tactics of Senate Leader Harry Reid.

Voters stripped him of his baldly partisan use of the United States Senate as a graveyard for all House legislation in order to protect his Democrats from tough votes and insulate the President from reality.

The little man with giant fists got staggered by a nasty uppercut from voters even though Reid saw it coming for weeks. Now, the ex-boxer stumbles on the canvas all tangled in the ropes, waiting for the bell.

And voters also rejected the loony-toon delusions of House Democratic Leader Nancy Pelosi. Honestly, the woman should be running a hat and wig shop in Haight-Ashbury, selling weed and prescription pills on the side. How it is that Democrats in Congress have taken her so seriously for so long will baffle historians for decades.

The silver lining for Democrats today is now they now have the perfect excuse to bounce both of them out of leadership forever.

And this is where things get very, very dangerous for America. President Obama still has two more years left in his final term.

Already, he has demonstrated again and again that he has no regard for the constitution or the legitimacy of laws when they do not suit his agenda. He flaunts his disregard for the constitutional process, dismisses laws he doesn’t like and rewrites others.

He mocks the powers of Congress. The Supreme Court has slapped him down more than any president in recent times. All of this as he tells us he is an expert on constitutional law.

He is now making VERY explicit threats to pass more illegal and unconstitutional presidential edicts to grant amnesty to illegal aliens already in the United States. This, in turn, will issue invitations for millions more illegals to come streaming across the border.

It will not end at immigration. Unchecked power is addictive.

Disowned by Democrats and made to feel irrelevant in this election, President Obama’s enormous and unjustified ego is deeply wounded. He is frustrated and feels caged, cornered. This is when people like him are most dangerous.

Buoyant Republicans will make an effort to engage him.

But President Obama is not a listener. He is not a negotiator. He is not a learner. He will just take what he wants. It is easier that way.

Franklin D. Roosevelt’s court-packing scheme during the Great Depression was nothing like the strains this president has put on Constitution. Indeed, not since the Civil War has America faced such a dire threat to her existence as a lawful, constitutional republic.

The difference in leadership between then and now could not be more striking.

To bind the union, Abraham Lincoln took an economic and political war and elevated it into something higher. He made it about emancipating slaves and won. And saved the Republic.

This president does the opposite. He got elected promising to elevate politics but instead finds unity and sows discord, often inciting racial divisions.

America’s only hope today is that President Obama finally turns to the bust of Lincoln he keeps in the Oval Office and listens.