tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67011931741112434752023-11-16T01:34:27.343-06:00ServantPlanterEven the greatest investers desire eternal glory for the efforts of hard work and commitment. Does what we fully give ourself to have value on a global scale, in national loyalties, among regional interests, within personal obligations, and with an eternal profit? This discussion is dedicated to the trancendance of eternal views into a transformational culture.Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-56569396750021518982019-08-16T15:04:00.002-05:002019-08-16T15:04:23.257-05:00Perspectives of Struggleeveryone and everything was there when i went to bed last night * my wife * my children * my<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2SqaN1cghmSM67tHqj5O5Iyxa0EYu90Iqc0_UPrK9O1bWiTpL0vXF6rTLtSUEFH19t-A7lH_FKsHUKLDzpHdpZQEoz3OMBjZ1bNOFJEyB7BeFbojTWiBZr7_dbN1FHBTSpGzLTr25dZg/s1600/nightmare.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="565" data-original-width="849" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2SqaN1cghmSM67tHqj5O5Iyxa0EYu90Iqc0_UPrK9O1bWiTpL0vXF6rTLtSUEFH19t-A7lH_FKsHUKLDzpHdpZQEoz3OMBjZ1bNOFJEyB7BeFbojTWiBZr7_dbN1FHBTSpGzLTr25dZg/s200/nightmare.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
financial stability * my perfect and beautiful home* an extremely successful career * but overnight i had a nightmare * i dreamed it all went away * destroyed * taken * washed down the drain * it was the scariest thing i could ever imagine * i was in shock * i was angry * i cried * and then i woke up * and everything i dreamed was real *<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr9EgJ1aoNeqEayqUwCua4PBEzhIeh_NH0zpz-6LfV6A8SPFmfL86xjYUd_edEAEtozB0Us5KubwVKsNDqfMZtSAZtXSGm04CgHpgAEafU2Mlta-LcOr0CgnPPvWeoPJztDnbpyzEf1FA/s1600/3rd+world+living.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="277" data-original-width="468" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr9EgJ1aoNeqEayqUwCua4PBEzhIeh_NH0zpz-6LfV6A8SPFmfL86xjYUd_edEAEtozB0Us5KubwVKsNDqfMZtSAZtXSGm04CgHpgAEafU2Mlta-LcOr0CgnPPvWeoPJztDnbpyzEf1FA/s200/3rd+world+living.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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jake and sam traveled with their parents to the third world country on vacation * they had not always been able to travel with a family * at one time they had no family * at one time their lived a third world life just like the one they would soon experience * before the trip they struggled with how hard the past was * living in dumpsters * parents on drugs * evading law enforcement * but something would soon resonate deep * they had it bad * but how much worse might someone else have it * </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWQU1PGPC1ZlLK5BJOBM4uzsR6cdqijm1YRZJgUAzxPUWmSlPwanS1t3nfmzMs95LAJoeSI-zBGs3ReDnAG2pajxWfWhFu2D-9y1ZIJTRhtRNwz123zYrZXCgX78nSb5PxViaBnNlbhs/s1600/family+destroyed.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="201" data-original-width="251" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWQU1PGPC1ZlLK5BJOBM4uzsR6cdqijm1YRZJgUAzxPUWmSlPwanS1t3nfmzMs95LAJoeSI-zBGs3ReDnAG2pajxWfWhFu2D-9y1ZIJTRhtRNwz123zYrZXCgX78nSb5PxViaBnNlbhs/s320/family+destroyed.png" width="320" /></a>the jones family thought they had it good * they had everything anyone would want * they had built up their fortune as a family * they had power and prestige in the community * they had a great reputation in business * then one day they opened their lives up to a stranger * they wanted to be hospitable, kind, and charitable * what they did not know is that the stranger had other motives * the stranger stole from them and then tried to ruin their family and reputation * their dreams were destroyed * their lives would never be the same * their trust gone * </div>
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words from a wise man who had it all questions * what do people gain from all their labors at which they toil under the sun * all things are wearisome more than one can say * all things are meaningless * a chasing after the wind * w<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">hoever obeys his [Creator's] command will come to no harm, </span><span style="background-color: white;">and the wise heart will know the proper time and procedure *</span></span></div>
Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-35080307256793338642011-07-31T21:40:00.010-05:002011-08-01T18:34:35.301-05:00A Shine of Lightsean builds his houses in the finest neighborhoods * he has been a contractor now for twenty years * in tha<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdhJV7YmIWvVJHiX5leLyayuuu6YBGvpriiJ3YSciKJ_4iT1qK6vMSzUPs1g9qRL-eG9uFVxclirxHeC9vRyZuNB2gZXx9oGy7gacX2ZfJk-9LxDuvJPaULn3v5alvGdVQgnA-x6iwlY/s1600/buildinghouse.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdhJV7YmIWvVJHiX5leLyayuuu6YBGvpriiJ3YSciKJ_4iT1qK6vMSzUPs1g9qRL-eG9uFVxclirxHeC9vRyZuNB2gZXx9oGy7gacX2ZfJk-9LxDuvJPaULn3v5alvGdVQgnA-x6iwlY/s200/buildinghouse.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636027287946286930" border="0" /></a>t time he has earned the reputation that has skyrocketed his career * he builds to perfection * he has the unique ability to capture the heart of his clients through the work of his hands* building is seans escape * it is his wilderness * a place where he is the master of his destiny * but beyond his talent * beyond his gifting * beyond his creating is reality * sean often thinks to himself * if only i could stay in this moment forever * but life outside his sanctuary of peace always continues * he at some point * at some time * faces some of his most challenging endeavors * the times he is not doing what he is passionate and gifted at doing*<br /><br />jeff i read the words on your pages and was inspired by what you had to share * fav<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRawtp39FDR8D-0BJMSDhxTtJSuekZh44G1k6ZVa4HAuoWXUDzQ3GR26KBf4H4t-FgyoypzXLJ8Uxo5vd2sDdkk-k_OUhj7B4Uqqqt8bTWyKB1Tum0_efqzHcZjqjZFsuAocNRzXfRlk/s1600/dojang.gif"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 130px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRawtp39FDR8D-0BJMSDhxTtJSuekZh44G1k6ZVa4HAuoWXUDzQ3GR26KBf4H4t-FgyoypzXLJ8Uxo5vd2sDdkk-k_OUhj7B4Uqqqt8bTWyKB1Tum0_efqzHcZjqjZFsuAocNRzXfRlk/s200/dojang.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636027798367574546" border="0" /></a>or * i have always had it * talent * it was my strength too * the ability to succeed at everything i put my hands to * we are alike in so much more than you could ever imagine * but there is something i do not understand * how is it then that i struggle with such insecurity * time after time it has been verified that i am doing everything right * but i do not buy into it * year after year i make the comment that if i died today i would be completely satisfied * but why are there times i am so dissatisfied with who i am and what i have done * i speak in front of people who give me accolades and compliments * but i want to hang my head and slide into the shadows * if everything is perfect * and may i admit it always is * it is still never good enough for me * this is the realm of my insecurity *<br /><br />i will not<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZSATzWXpXSoyArVkSPH9UPrIPlpXGiErmA_Gc20DDSthWjqIlzeIsI_c1aGv_DRRg21kagz3pL5Wib1vfllhKGU07Wq_1C_E7-JWVCnPwwKw6p18b6ItI0uEVUmHWXhppgHglaERyxg/s1600/soldier.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 132px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZSATzWXpXSoyArVkSPH9UPrIPlpXGiErmA_Gc20DDSthWjqIlzeIsI_c1aGv_DRRg21kagz3pL5Wib1vfllhKGU07Wq_1C_E7-JWVCnPwwKw6p18b6ItI0uEVUmHWXhppgHglaERyxg/s200/soldier.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636028026731828114" border="0" /></a> ever come to you for religious advise * but i want you to know that i appreciate you speaking to me man to man * i reflected upon the words of my friend for days on end * i had been trying to help him for some time now but he seemed not to respond at all to me * i was not trying to be his parent * i was not trying to be his counselor * i was not even trying to be his pastor * i just wanted him to know i cared * but for weeks i got nothing * the cold shoulder * an arrogant remark * avoidance * and a show of no interest of what i was trying to do or be * i just wanted to be there * and i wanted to express my care and concern * and nothing in response * but now * that statement * powerful * moving * life giving * important * just a few characteristics for such a simple expression * it confirmed all i had hoped and desired in my heart * it did matter *<br /><br />there are often ghosts at night in our rooms that we battle time and time again * this is the limit of our perfection * however secure we may become at the reality that our room is safe * there are always those times that the lights are dimmed and the shadows that lurk in the dark become our reality * it is not the fact that the ghosts are there and that they haunt our dreams that we struggle with the most * it is the fear of not knowing how to deal with them or what our response is to be when we feel their presence lurking * our ghosts are similar in that many times they are created by the very one who struggles with them * sean has been haunted for years by the responsibility he has outside what he is passionate at doing * likewise * i have been haunted by the fear of failure * but what is it that confirms within us that the room is safe to rest in * where do we draw our security * maybe if it can not come from within then we need to be looking outside our own rooms * outside our own endeavors * even outside ourselves *<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_v_MXJCymxA4ZWnOJdlDA14qgiPTx5Dxy3TOIDAW4BowGiq4xoQUAX3w7D-rMiVpKItWEdJIuxI_r3woksuIYYDl900HLjQNIbqhnwQXLFkw8PalxkpBj7NsICop5_CVblYzBZZNdoCg/s1600/leg3ghosts.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 147px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_v_MXJCymxA4ZWnOJdlDA14qgiPTx5Dxy3TOIDAW4BowGiq4xoQUAX3w7D-rMiVpKItWEdJIuxI_r3woksuIYYDl900HLjQNIbqhnwQXLFkw8PalxkpBj7NsICop5_CVblYzBZZNdoCg/s200/leg3ghosts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636028203151887474" border="0" /></a>* who will you let in to your darkest places to shine the light on your biggest fears *<br /></div>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-48649172642056424892011-03-13T20:30:00.003-05:002011-07-30T19:39:34.354-05:00Night Life<div>its six in the morni<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbS003b58SEiLW_D333XO-BzuxwJdbt9q9Lam30cchcHywjN7FzpnZxX78KU5zVMaqgSPbdxVWdbJuPMV8h245EDCLIWuKgp7HDOxfKzvNVxJXlrWVU49dXBd_RmxO7XfBfSekhGTHoDM/s1600/nightwork.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 325px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbS003b58SEiLW_D333XO-BzuxwJdbt9q9Lam30cchcHywjN7FzpnZxX78KU5zVMaqgSPbdxVWdbJuPMV8h245EDCLIWuKgp7HDOxfKzvNVxJXlrWVU49dXBd_RmxO7XfBfSekhGTHoDM/s200/nightwork.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635309535149480338" border="0" /></a>ng when i lay my head on my pillow and close my eyes* at a time near when most people are waking up I am finally going to bed * but this is not something uncommon in my life * it is normal * night is my canvas * a time and a place where a masterpiece is created * the art moves from shadow to shadow across the room * the sequence to the rythmn of the sounds of twilight * visualizations reflect every decision * every action * every spoken word and interaction * every mistake * every success recalled from the days activities * as i look at the portrait of the life i have painted for myself and that others have painted for me * i critique * i examine * i passionately become intimate with * and i dreadfully hate * as i go over every detail of the masterpiece in the shadows* while the twilight * through the night *</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div> </div>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-70880504158046094032011-02-21T14:20:00.006-06:002011-02-21T22:22:27.847-06:00Alex<div><div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhadgVanf5cKs2VqYkm7LDh3Nu0hZUMskgRL3urYHC5ef38cLXHByMMi2dyIN_6dueRB1ZuQM5taZs48eBO_2QKxWjDHhyphenhyphen4Fq-kW2jDofsZ7_2oZcrgrmGGL4N9vMvpY6HULkS3qbjTHyE/s1600/homeless-child.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 204px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 175px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576361953027879698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhadgVanf5cKs2VqYkm7LDh3Nu0hZUMskgRL3urYHC5ef38cLXHByMMi2dyIN_6dueRB1ZuQM5taZs48eBO_2QKxWjDHhyphenhyphen4Fq-kW2jDofsZ7_2oZcrgrmGGL4N9vMvpY6HULkS3qbjTHyE/s200/homeless-child.jpg" /></a>alex picks up the candy bar as he waits in the checkout line at the local grocery store * he thinks to himself * i could put this in my pocket right now and walk out of the store * but what would happen * maybe i would get away with it * maybe i would get caught and have the cops called on me by the store owner * so what * what would that feel like * who would care * in his mind he remembers his two brothers that only have him to rely on and the responsibility he has to protect them and keep them together * he puts the candy bar down and walks out of the store *<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576363419042612146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3xbN-1ivrCq79ZQ5725TCNMLqd7yAfrw0u9zRLcGUfeE8NXLTnA9g7W8D7XDZUVDyw1NCEuaX_6KzhoNEr0pUBH6grAUz_8it76Zvk8Nrtes2GzqsCtwqij1PYlLdfeVgVSDCpbUo_Y/s200/3-boys1.jpg" /><br /></div><div>alex is a good kid * at such a young age in his life he has experienced hardships that many kids his age have never had to endure * after his dad left when he was very young it was hard enough to manage * but when his mom later decided she would abandon the family and leave alex responsible for two younger sibilings the struggles really began *</div><br /><div>alex watched daily kids playing outdoors * kids going places with their parents * he heard his friends talking about allowances * getting grounded * eating home cooked meals * going fishing and hunting with their dads * and he longed to just be a normal kid * but alex could not have those luxuries * instead he had to be mom and dad and brother all at the same time *<br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaOm7NFfYFOs5Bo1E9T9ISYdgnNmS3LZRhMPOpHvuYQQKCzgFNCbXhuvjvti-8b24Er8kMU73QA1VTHjcfXfXqyhyQY0eIDGHrr_dT4rSeulvYlQmGfuAyF3NfmGBnKTZ3boksD7xl4Do/s1600/soupcan.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 102px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 137px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576363007203533410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaOm7NFfYFOs5Bo1E9T9ISYdgnNmS3LZRhMPOpHvuYQQKCzgFNCbXhuvjvti-8b24Er8kMU73QA1VTHjcfXfXqyhyQY0eIDGHrr_dT4rSeulvYlQmGfuAyF3NfmGBnKTZ3boksD7xl4Do/s200/soupcan.jpg" /></a>it is soup again tonight * alex opened the can of cambells * awww stated his brothers * again * we always have soup * why can you make something else *alex responded * that is all we can afford right now * just shut up and eat it * the teenager came out of him * he quickly shifted back into a parental role * did you get your homework done * hurry up and finish so you can get ready for bed * i will read you a story before you go to sleep *</div><br /><br /><div>alex never questioned why he had to take on the parental role for his two younger sibilings * he never hesitated to ensure that they were together and that they were safe * it came second nature to him * like it had always been his responsibility * it had always been his mission in life * yes * there were times he hungered and longed for a better life for he and his brothers * but never a life seperated and institutionalized * </div><br /><br /><div>one thought that ran through alexs mind was the thought of one day giving up the parental role and allowing a parent to take he and his brothers in * he knew for sure he <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbAiRvVHN1OHm3s__VmsJegI1IeagQSVfJEfEHXq9GJ0xWBNMmBMiSN6NTmhfzXmYBl2i0k22xLx796ghNeu27SkVEyU_-JMN3iFCnKgHe570VegzMMqV_2x7zzyJJmPVIjlFdoBX2-s/s1600/Parents.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 160px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576364089173757186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbAiRvVHN1OHm3s__VmsJegI1IeagQSVfJEfEHXq9GJ0xWBNMmBMiSN6NTmhfzXmYBl2i0k22xLx796ghNeu27SkVEyU_-JMN3iFCnKgHe570VegzMMqV_2x7zzyJJmPVIjlFdoBX2-s/s200/Parents.jpg" /></a>would never accept being split up * but one thing he questioned was what would it be like to give up the authority to another * to be a real teenager * to see his brothers loved * hugged * corrected * fed * bathed * tucked in at night * and read to by someone else * how would he respond to the same show of love and support * what if he allowed someone to come into his life only to be let down and abandoned once again * could he take such a chance with his heart * could he allow someone to do that to his brothers * </div><br /><div>living with his heart opened but his hands fisted alex endured another day anticipating what was to come *</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-18403420145222867432010-07-10T15:49:00.004-05:002010-07-10T15:52:15.956-05:00Spokendifficult * that is the word that described how it was for marty to share his deepest secret with you that<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUAWM0UoCYX8VjRjFImm_pEIKx0wtzaMe7iyI9VW0EPBV_SK8HTgS43AiZ6oSL1L5uEKDUmpbtsUBmProI29tetz7fAb6mm8cIKqmh16Mi3E4iNb43wIdGMrRE_-lct5hYVpoo-MSRzV0/s1600/friends.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 97px; height: 130px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUAWM0UoCYX8VjRjFImm_pEIKx0wtzaMe7iyI9VW0EPBV_SK8HTgS43AiZ6oSL1L5uEKDUmpbtsUBmProI29tetz7fAb6mm8cIKqmh16Mi3E4iNb43wIdGMrRE_-lct5hYVpoo-MSRzV0/s200/friends.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492382736962344738" border="0" /></a> saturday morning as you had a cup of coffee together * unexpected * was your first thought * fear was the synergistic emotion driving both sides of the conversation * but he did it anyway * he told you * you asked * why me * he responded * because i knew you would listen * the idea of telling his friend what he never thought he would tell anyone else played over and over in his mind for weeks * and now he had done it * he finally had gathered all the strength and courage within the deepest part of his soul and spoke * but now what * he stared into the eyes of his now enlightened friend in wonder * what next *<br /><p class="MsoNormal">my father spoke with my teacher that night at the parent<span style=""> </span>teacher conference * she told him of<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Us_WzsC7KlCero7iG1tEaYlizrPkh95FZycoWZTHgDQbyicO4oWG65RJbicS_GvYpw9WMkYlvdOeEgw2tdUcOaYd7CRVhTRwPzyhYW20xx5jCcAXb7UdmrRDCs3azGe7CAKRs1a4nxA/s1600/smiley+face.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 118px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Us_WzsC7KlCero7iG1tEaYlizrPkh95FZycoWZTHgDQbyicO4oWG65RJbicS_GvYpw9WMkYlvdOeEgw2tdUcOaYd7CRVhTRwPzyhYW20xx5jCcAXb7UdmrRDCs3azGe7CAKRs1a4nxA/s200/smiley+face.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492382877762897810" border="0" /></a> the many great things i had done in her class * how i was a good girl and did everything she felt a six year old should be doing in class* i was very happy to see how pleased he was * but not as happy as i was excited for my dad to see my work displaying a happy face hanging on the wall * so while my dad spoke to my teacher i tugged and pulled on his shirt sleeve * dad * i said * dad * hey dad * daddy * as he continued his conversation ignoring my pleas for his attention I began to wine * but dad * dddaaaddddyyyyy * sweetheart we must not interrupt an adult conversation * wait one minute * but daddy * do not interrupt * ok * so i waited but I could not stay still * when my father finally realized my urgent patience he responded with * now what do you want to show me darling * look * i said with the greatest pride * my work * my smiley face * i spoke with exuberance and great joy *<span style=""><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">spoken words * </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVnghEd9r38rXFkVcXpYC6jCi3EY0L4nhqUCgjHv5XHBehC5wNzTmPEAO2x0nX2vbof6W98rvOb9VRxkAGST3wxpp1FVpZFO_hQQmqPHmIVR0kZaOYuHBAdr7vrklLiEN_nJM32vmbkVg/s1600/mouth.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 110px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVnghEd9r38rXFkVcXpYC6jCi3EY0L4nhqUCgjHv5XHBehC5wNzTmPEAO2x0nX2vbof6W98rvOb9VRxkAGST3wxpp1FVpZFO_hQQmqPHmIVR0kZaOYuHBAdr7vrklLiEN_nJM32vmbkVg/s200/mouth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492383089454691282" border="0" /></a><span style="">treasures from the head and the heart * but what it takes to speak those words is sometimes as d</span><span style="">ifficult if not more difficult than the consequences that come from what has been said * why should things be spoken * because o</span><span style="">nce it is out there is the possibility of peace within * spoke * speak * spoken *</span></p>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-77474992775272735772010-06-09T14:35:00.007-05:002010-07-07T23:38:08.662-05:00Situation Awareness<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_3Bb1Dyt-oIgT9BrRzXNtq5heMC8LUnlFsgbQCmeeMZwniAA0juhJoKvrwgoOI7M_AYLOEKpn1ooff0CTxpuOFqCqUiNCNoPEWUWulUsGhDj2xLGfIWqcKp_6BfjdYce_vg5RQj_AI_U/s1600/potter.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 106px; height: 98px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_3Bb1Dyt-oIgT9BrRzXNtq5heMC8LUnlFsgbQCmeeMZwniAA0juhJoKvrwgoOI7M_AYLOEKpn1ooff0CTxpuOFqCqUiNCNoPEWUWulUsGhDj2xLGfIWqcKp_6BfjdYce_vg5RQj_AI_U/s200/potter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491388208846281618" border="0" /></a>only three more days to go and the project would have been finished * only one problem * i had missed a step in the instructions and put the project together all wrong * i came into the project with 110 percent effort and a passion to make something amazing with my own two hands * but several days into it i lost interest and just wanted to rush to complete my workmanship * that is where i got careless * that is where i lost focus * and that is where i made the biggest mistake * all that passion and hard work wasted now as i envisioned what was from what could have been * if only i had stayed focused * if only i had not become careless * if only i had not let my complacency get in the way *<br /><br />sam was leaving the baseball field after a long three hour practice with his team * the playoffs were c<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2KwAuVYQOAJ6WXVfFh0zsBMCaYrcBZI-TcsCwwwaKaXyWRQxMqjct6wiIb6sCm8qHfA76bIR0Dyb3HgS250A5wLk3Rj12RwAUQajtbxTLkS9iZrSfNVKeRbE5Jyp6Dd7h_pR-t4uqUlQ/s1600/angry.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 74px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2KwAuVYQOAJ6WXVfFh0zsBMCaYrcBZI-TcsCwwwaKaXyWRQxMqjct6wiIb6sCm8qHfA76bIR0Dyb3HgS250A5wLk3Rj12RwAUQajtbxTLkS9iZrSfNVKeRbE5Jyp6Dd7h_pR-t4uqUlQ/s200/angry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491388603146718322" border="0" /></a>oming up and so the extra time had to be out in so that they could be sure to place in this years tournament * sam was tired and worn out after the long practice so he just wanted to get in his car and drive home * as he approached his car he saw leaning against a nearby vehicle one of his teammate who seemed to be crying * sam considered walking up and asking what was the matter but he hesitated * after all it had been a long practice and he was very tired at the moment * sam put the key in his ignition but stopped briefly one more time to consider whether or not he should offer assistance to his teammate * no he thought he will be ok * i need to go home and get some rest * i will see him again tomorrow and if there is still an issue maybe i talk to him about it then * sam started his car and drove away *<br /><br />the jazz club was the place to be tonight as lanesha and damion walked in and took their normal seat at the bar * the music was right on and the ambiance was just perfect for a romantic evening * lanesha and damion were newly married and had committed to a night ou<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMtH-cc4FCpP1S8yj7nRXqByweN7DNw2tbIoOdaF6L22-zv4TaZ5DANK92_k_S0iYB99PMUbJ-0FfDbcXgVSTrKTHvGTx1RW0HRbkXGKqnZJLgb2VzCGg26ZEhPsDV4ke3NCdwAtaIPg/s1600/blackcouple1.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 97px; height: 145px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMtH-cc4FCpP1S8yj7nRXqByweN7DNw2tbIoOdaF6L22-zv4TaZ5DANK92_k_S0iYB99PMUbJ-0FfDbcXgVSTrKTHvGTx1RW0HRbkXGKqnZJLgb2VzCGg26ZEhPsDV4ke3NCdwAtaIPg/s200/blackcouple1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491388802378677234" border="0" /></a>t once a week at their favorite club in town * at the jazz club they enjoyed listening to the smooth sounds of the music while they stared into each others eyes wondering how they could have ever been without one another * this couple was in love and it was more than just obvious * after a few moments of being seated lanesha got up to go to the restroom * while she was gone damion decided to order their food and drinks * the waitress brought the food and drinks out to them just as lanesha returned to the table * as she sat down she tipped over her purse and out came a pill bottle * being a gentleman damion reached to pick up only to realize someone elses name was on the prescription medicine *<br /><br />it is the constant changes around us that seems to slip through our hands * or do they * maybe they have been in our hands all along but we were not aware of the situation and neglected to ask any questions or stop for just one moment to notice * my project was never the same as it could have been if i had only gone a little ways further to see it done right * is there something that needs our focus that we have neglected or avoided * are you the recipient of responsibility and yet you choose to bypass or ignore that responsibility because it takes you out of your comfort zone * sams teammate did not go home that night nor was he ever able to play for the team again * lanesha laid her head on the table and closed her eyes for the last time * neither sam nor damion had a clue that their awareness was important in the choices their friends and loved ones made *<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJouTCzcXsjjKOpwKm_Ye8Y-FbVEtqpLuFGJHLWSKDZWNyDuq7XUcTaNWc6xhNqa4hgE_4KZYnJAGMtSfD4c8I1-uc4iZyGBwUjVYf3ex-PxtUNtzhqmZ-ZI_Vkm0pi9WFbGfv1U8KxzM/s1600/window.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 171px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJouTCzcXsjjKOpwKm_Ye8Y-FbVEtqpLuFGJHLWSKDZWNyDuq7XUcTaNWc6xhNqa4hgE_4KZYnJAGMtSfD4c8I1-uc4iZyGBwUjVYf3ex-PxtUNtzhqmZ-ZI_Vkm0pi9WFbGfv1U8KxzM/s200/window.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491389777555702482" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div>seeing beyond the ridge of our nose will take us to small places with large windows *Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-69942206229242001352009-04-06T18:28:00.000-05:002009-04-06T22:42:30.157-05:00The Shattered Glass<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmf9xC2gT2TL-iyQF3OuccQz5tI1o6Jw5s0P7gEJ1o36D31Xu_DkJivRZ63_QJAfb-D7B18ZLxSpcU-D_VfLhSWwVlW9rtkKt3wBgIDpBYkzmmYZDLPFEon-GAu3YYXerB60AS2hGIgYc/s1600-h/shattered+glass.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmf9xC2gT2TL-iyQF3OuccQz5tI1o6Jw5s0P7gEJ1o36D31Xu_DkJivRZ63_QJAfb-D7B18ZLxSpcU-D_VfLhSWwVlW9rtkKt3wBgIDpBYkzmmYZDLPFEon-GAu3YYXerB60AS2hGIgYc/s200/shattered+glass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321782073186809154" border="0" /></a><br />he had only been at his friends house for a few minutes when he accidentally bumped the the antique glass pitcher and watched it shatter on the floor* devastated the teenager fell to the floor reaching for the pieces as if he could somehow save the valuable heirloom* to late - what was once one of the most treasured belongings his friend's mother owned had become no more than a pile of glass* shattered* destroyed*it was her favorite piece that had been passed down from generations of women starting with her great, great grandmother* now it was nothing but pieces of glass scattered on the floor* after breaking the antique pitcher and staring at the shattered pieces on the floor the boy burst into tears* all he could ask himself is how could this happen* he left that day feeling shame and guilt inside as if his world had ended*<br /><br />as a man i look back on my childhood* the years in middle school where i was picked on and <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZKu_wYUcV9i3Tfdfye3Fn0CzhyphenhyphenEp0z4FLJxmDWdalRFV-SSJBM0x_YnLcyegrUyXSbpqXEQWoEfvWaw8kUQbK3QBk_IzhrM8wXQavJ4n-UIkEiOYCinCMMvEVhU7dx_1s-Ml40VcWLnc/s1600-h/bully4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 103px; height: 87px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZKu_wYUcV9i3Tfdfye3Fn0CzhyphenhyphenEp0z4FLJxmDWdalRFV-SSJBM0x_YnLcyegrUyXSbpqXEQWoEfvWaw8kUQbK3QBk_IzhrM8wXQavJ4n-UIkEiOYCinCMMvEVhU7dx_1s-Ml40VcWLnc/s200/bully4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321782512140303042" border="0" /></a>bullied* many days i came home to an empty house and i would quickly escape to my room and think about ending my life* with self esteem shattered* with confidence in myself shattered* with hope shattered* with a sense of self worth and value shattered* the pieces were scattered and i could not see with my own eyes how they could ever be whole again*<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmK0SUA8dRIuzsOfy3zRyZLWRob5WcWb5ZDMts4CJ5rEGd21ic-TqxY9eYfFNM1QivRtmyXNwkIc7baLRpmX9kzv8y2T51snTMgBQ7LjL-G8j88ZpSRF_zP7EmbTiQt6Gl_11xsAY7RaU/s1600-h/broken+heart.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmK0SUA8dRIuzsOfy3zRyZLWRob5WcWb5ZDMts4CJ5rEGd21ic-TqxY9eYfFNM1QivRtmyXNwkIc7baLRpmX9kzv8y2T51snTMgBQ7LjL-G8j88ZpSRF_zP7EmbTiQt6Gl_11xsAY7RaU/s200/broken+heart.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321782892421685474" border="0" /></a><br />miranda was only seventeen years old* how could it be that at such an early age* an innocent age* that a boy could break her heart* what went wrong* how did it all happen* she could only make sense of some of the details of their breakup since it happened so fast* she felt so used* she felt so dirty* shattered was her dreams of marrying this boy* torn to pieces was her self esteem* broken was her heart which was one so trusting and vulnerable* she looked in the mirror that night and stared into the eyes of a confused and lost woman where once a young innocent girl once looked*<br /><br />the boy who had broken the antique pitcher returned to his friends house the next day* he had tossed and turned all night with the pain and humiliation of something so dreadful happening to him* now he had to face his friends mom and see the hurt in her eyes* he knocked and entered their house feeling for once like an intruder* like he did not belong* he met his friends mother in the kitchen with his eyes on the floor* tears falling* ashamed of life* she gently lifted his eyes to meet hers and wrapped her arms around him holding him close as she spoke these words ever so softly* <span style="font-style: italic;">i heard what ha</span><span style="font-style: italic;">ppened to you yesterday* i am sorry that it upset you so badly* can i show you something i made</span>* then she led him into the living room and pulled out a small mosaic filled with all the pieces of glass from the broken picture* <span style="font-style: italic;">you see* although the pitcher was broken and it could never return to its original form* the shattered pieces can be used to make something even more beautiful and valuable that ever before*<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc3cKuaF5OdTMLJsp6qizBAlvAdmGT0z0kY3sYA4HPdk3TDKiTSYHV7LmcTfnO8ZSzFM3ttdH5mCFnxPyDbTZ1sihy95n6Ov-KfvepeP2eaujLovEfvrnc5lmnMGlI05bQ4DBrc5-Hvfw/s1600-h/AngelMosaic_000.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 161px; height: 174px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc3cKuaF5OdTMLJsp6qizBAlvAdmGT0z0kY3sYA4HPdk3TDKiTSYHV7LmcTfnO8ZSzFM3ttdH5mCFnxPyDbTZ1sihy95n6Ov-KfvepeP2eaujLovEfvrnc5lmnMGlI05bQ4DBrc5-Hvfw/s200/AngelMosaic_000.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321789303254812514" border="0" /></a>the broken pieces of the pitcher became a beautiful mosaic and was restored to a beauty beyond that of what it was before* likewise i became a stronger man more compassionate for those less fortunate than i because i knew what it was to be less fortunate* and the young girl who had her heart shattered can know what true love is because she has experienced the hurt and pain of a shattered relationship*<br /><br />there is a reflection of hope in the shattered glass that only a trained eye can see* eyes tested by time* focused in faith* persuaded by purpose* may your shattered pieces be restored once again*Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-60950583721673875052009-01-11T20:02:00.005-06:002009-01-11T20:54:58.887-06:00The Door: A Story of Choice<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhszzO9e8fiYh5571_xKSYTfH2MOhzhIE3QRCJiruqhHH9oUzh2CZwW14KjJvBi-ea3xV-7UnDYmlRTNb8yPi0TiFbCFqexcQaNPHPAMsqYtBccwEH_3HlC3h7Ky0MUyDXvk0tQ29oAGqM/s1600-h/door+to+nowhere.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 136px; height: 145px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhszzO9e8fiYh5571_xKSYTfH2MOhzhIE3QRCJiruqhHH9oUzh2CZwW14KjJvBi-ea3xV-7UnDYmlRTNb8yPi0TiFbCFqexcQaNPHPAMsqYtBccwEH_3HlC3h7Ky0MUyDXvk0tQ29oAGqM/s200/door+to+nowhere.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290234592671896210" border="0" /></a><br />michelle knew of a door that had never been opened before* she had seen the door many times but had never even ventured near the door* she witnessed many people coming in and out of the door many times in her life* all of their faces seemed confused and overwhelmed with grief* michelle therefore stayed far away from the door never anticipating that she would open it one day herself*<br /><br />michelle was a very joyful person with a great outlook on her future* many would consider her a success at what she did* she had everything she ever wanted family* wealth* laughter* content* security* and so much more*<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtTpPfki9a9CquF-txNtqnzLutg8PNl8pUpFXGmubG6BLPqAZkJLlXNR1BtBaqO3LJipiz8vAL2nOZoo0PV33Fz6-9phWtagqERV3eCD2LYYB0dGB2oqRUzwQ3cNKS8P9Aoh7Btr88k4M/s1600-h/door2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 93px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtTpPfki9a9CquF-txNtqnzLutg8PNl8pUpFXGmubG6BLPqAZkJLlXNR1BtBaqO3LJipiz8vAL2nOZoo0PV33Fz6-9phWtagqERV3eCD2LYYB0dGB2oqRUzwQ3cNKS8P9Aoh7Btr88k4M/s200/door2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290234851019366210" border="0" /></a>as michelle journeyed through life her path would bring her close to the door* close enough some times that she could reach out and touch it* but she would hesitate remembering her concern for the faces of the people she had seen coming in and out* how she never wanted to look like that* how she so wanted to continue the wonderful life she had just like it was without having to worry what lied behind the door*<br /><br />but there began to be birthed deep down a thought in her mind if maybe her concern was for no reason* and that the door possibly was not as bad as she thought* i wonder what could exist behind the door she would ponder to herself* is there something i am missing* is there something more that could add greater value to my life* as she thought these things she eased closer and closer to the door* leaning up against it* straining to hear what was behind it* but there was no sound at all* she thought i will just turn the knob ever so gently and peek in* but nothing of any concern* maybe i will open it a little wider to get a better look* and she flung the door open* silence* peacefulness* such a woinderful feeling for michelle to think that her concerns were pointless*<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7xjR6-sMNQx8N4bqvWIlhGkQgITMzzhwcCl9aV-9u-dT2rbLBr3lFSjiQ4X3LqMhVUsCTWheqooZ4AuqepqMjKab6hvKqyefQ2NjRLo5zFUqd5C6mQFwwYzguxQiGOBLXDp78dhkg0s/s1600-h/door+opened.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 109px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD7xjR6-sMNQx8N4bqvWIlhGkQgITMzzhwcCl9aV-9u-dT2rbLBr3lFSjiQ4X3LqMhVUsCTWheqooZ4AuqepqMjKab6hvKqyefQ2NjRLo5zFUqd5C6mQFwwYzguxQiGOBLXDp78dhkg0s/s200/door+opened.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290234682301870418" border="0" /></a><br />michelle stood with the door open for what seemed like hours* things seemed so wonderful on the other side* but as time passed what was once a great feeling began to get scarier* darkness began to descend on the door* hurt and guilt started to set in* feeling like she did not belong there anymore forced michelle to set back in and close the door* but it did not budge* she pushed and she shoved with all of her might but the door stood its ground against her* out of the shadows came the most frightening thing michelle had ever seen and she screamed to the top of her lungs for help* it got closer and closer and closer until it its shadow enveloped her whole body*<br /><br />at that point she was deperate and could do nothing but cry and hope for the best* but there at the worst time of her life two friends came to her side and togther all three forced the door closed on the darkness until the door was locked and nothing could get in or out* there michelle sat on the floor feeling overwhelmed with relief and accomplished* her battle was over* she could have never d<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqNKuOXbCfHwZ0igRyE7ZpNWPRY3yHGzj7vQG4_J9HiZ8i2hV8Wox4j6P84rrL5jRB8qC33qW6NYmoQlY_CaxJ930HVQHlXoBEfZRsTXUtPR5s9f4vU4MjqUyaU7Loea0hhcVY6Wv0W_I/s1600-h/demondoor.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 96px; height: 145px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqNKuOXbCfHwZ0igRyE7ZpNWPRY3yHGzj7vQG4_J9HiZ8i2hV8Wox4j6P84rrL5jRB8qC33qW6NYmoQlY_CaxJ930HVQHlXoBEfZRsTXUtPR5s9f4vU4MjqUyaU7Loea0hhcVY6Wv0W_I/s200/demondoor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290235064995530178" border="0" /></a>one it alone*<br /><br />michelle returned to her happiness and went on with her daily routine just as she had before* she grew closer to her friends and they thought back on the experience they shared together that saved her life*but one day michelle thought about the door and wondered if the darkness was till there* she considered opening it, but this time just a crack*<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*the door in this story represents a choice that we make each day to endeavor things that are harmful to our lives* to a young adult the door is a choice to venture into a bar and take the first drink of alchohol because he/she is of the drinking age* to single adult it is the visitation to a non-sexual porn site for the first time just to "see" what it is like* for a married man or woman it is the lustful look at someone else in the passing and wishing he/she was with them* for others it is the choice to lie* to cheat* to steal* to murder* etc*<br /><br />the door is the enteryway to a place that is percieved as wonderful* satisfying* gratifying* full of wonder and amazement* at least until we face the dark consequences of venturing into a place not made for us where we do not belong*<br /><br />inside the door we get caught up and trapped in the addictions while being battered by the consequences</span>* <span style="font-style: italic;">and by ourselfs we cannot defeat them* it takes the accountabilty of friends to help us remove ourself from the darkness and close the door and ensure that it is locked*<br /><br />once we have opened the door* seen what was on the other side* and even been delivered from it* the battle to never open the door continues the rest of our life* it is not ok to journey near again* it is not ok to take a peak* it not even ok to listen close or feel the texture of the wood* stay near your friends and never forget what it was like to be in the situation and how hard it was to overcome*<br /></span>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-85451733797166978932009-01-10T00:51:00.004-06:002009-01-11T20:04:03.849-06:00A Burden to Belonging<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP2qfJOLqCe_XNEZPElc2nntkek8LyrVRnR2PGrbVWVCBNooQMF2nF43c2bY3YZQ0ohUDuXWIx1cGFJQYX-pwEhh8n6UE140TNJH9wT9Y0VXIMBaUFkJtq8jtHK0zbbU3_FJuESQHnAhg/s1600-h/childhoodfriends.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 145px; height: 96px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP2qfJOLqCe_XNEZPElc2nntkek8LyrVRnR2PGrbVWVCBNooQMF2nF43c2bY3YZQ0ohUDuXWIx1cGFJQYX-pwEhh8n6UE140TNJH9wT9Y0VXIMBaUFkJtq8jtHK0zbbU3_FJuESQHnAhg/s200/childhoodfriends.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290218514336079266" border="0" /></a><br />luke is my best friend* we grew up together playing in the woods* going to movies* hanging out at each others houses* talking about life issues* laughing about good times* crying about difficult times* if someone messed with luke i had his back and i always knew he had mine* luke and i would get in trouble setting off smoke bombs in front of a neighbors house* ringing the door bell* and then running as fast as we could and hiding just so we could watch the expression on the persons face as they struggled through the smoke to try to find the pranksters would would do such a thing* my grandmother died when i was ten and luke was there by my side the whole time* this was a very difficult point in my life* it was good to have a freind who lifted my spirit*<br /><br />today though i met luke for the first time ever although we have been friends for over twenty years* luke and i went our seperate ways* i became a teacher* luke became an optomatri<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN0-sdCOIfVZS_EX7-9_w_qrXOIGiVFbNEogVuVzP8UoGbf2Md4B4vQQAHVdKbqgRyOW8od95Ud5CglL0ci4v7ADPN52ouZKpoQr_lKB-0X6v2aIA22YiINLh1oH6Lscb5NoWbC2SU-8c/s1600-h/phone.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 90px; height: 67px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN0-sdCOIfVZS_EX7-9_w_qrXOIGiVFbNEogVuVzP8UoGbf2Md4B4vQQAHVdKbqgRyOW8od95Ud5CglL0ci4v7ADPN52ouZKpoQr_lKB-0X6v2aIA22YiINLh1oH6Lscb5NoWbC2SU-8c/s200/phone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290219734746683330" border="0" /></a>st* i gave luke a call and asked if he wanted to get together and hang out maybe hit one of our burger-joint hangouts and he agreed saying he wanted to ask me something* we met* caught up on old times* laughed a bit* and then came the question that i will never forget* would you still be my friend if i told you i was gay* i thought it was one of his ways of poking fun at me* i thought maybe he is play<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu_yTufCUGHXvyGBWUkVfrrJem0n69rPfnNmrTzqsDhVluJHuReyBgVa-toAXoOwrFuaNdXMkDeTPP5wFNYHA38PnWrVrnLk4ZsGl2ZVCTLEZxshYRf05N8jgelr1tNA21f_KBdNH58Vw/s1600-h/depression0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 117px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu_yTufCUGHXvyGBWUkVfrrJem0n69rPfnNmrTzqsDhVluJHuReyBgVa-toAXoOwrFuaNdXMkDeTPP5wFNYHA38PnWrVrnLk4ZsGl2ZVCTLEZxshYRf05N8jgelr1tNA21f_KBdNH58Vw/s200/depression0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290218841559777602" border="0" /></a>ing the devils advocate* could it be that he is really gay* hundreds of questions rushed through my mind* the silence at the table was unprecedented* was he gay when we were kids* was he attracted to me* does being friends with someone who is gay make me gay* what would others think about me now that my best friend is gay* in a moment whether right or wrong i felt the burdon of the world had just been laid on my shoulders*<br /><br />several weeks went by and i had not spoken to luke* i needed time to think* i needed time to cope* i had questions in my mind* i needed to understand this thing fully before i could answer his question* during this time two senarios played through my head that went a little like this --<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">senario one* i would avoid luke and just go on with my life* not have anything to do with him anymore* after all I could find a new bestfriend couldn't i* i would not tell him i had </span><span style="font-style: italic;">a problem with him being gay* i would just slowly slip away* ignore his calls* avoid his emails* maybe he would forget me over time and get the point on his own* this seemed easy for me* that way i would never have to confront him* i would not have to struggle with my disagreeing with his choices* i would save myself the embarassment of being in public with a known homosexual*<br /><br />senario two* but then i thought about how luke was there by my side through </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpGhBZIv15-Hu9Ja_x-QeN4lO4Sj8-1dY3rvmT92MFfuZxEkFhCwjbLAqnfZCBai6ufz2fx8Jp0Qs5YUPfWVrsVHf-EuKY2wIGVbmYGVc5QYMZJOvPXGDOORUxLQDjAZdLxpyTUyiiKg/s1600-h/empathy2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 147px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpGhBZIv15-Hu9Ja_x-QeN4lO4Sj8-1dY3rvmT92MFfuZxEkFhCwjbLAqnfZCBai6ufz2fx8Jp0Qs5YUPfWVrsVHf-EuKY2wIGVbmYGVc5QYMZJOvPXGDOORUxLQDjAZdLxpyTUyiiKg/s200/empathy2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290219094112143106" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">the m</span><span style="font-style: italic;">ost</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> difficult time in my life when my grandmother had died* i realized that there was a reason that we had been bestfriends for so long and shared so much laughter and so many tear</span><span style="font-style: italic;">s* i also understood that what luke shared with me was </span><span style="font-style: italic;">probably as difficult for him to share as it was for me to hear but he had be</span><span style="font-style: italic;">en open and up front with me* i thought about some of my imperfections how i had struggled with lust for women* about lies i had told to teachers and to my parents growning up* i realized that maybe there were some things about me that were not so perfect and that maybe i needed to be honest with myself about* it was going to be difficult -- but that is the gift of life that we will struggle and we will walk with others in their journey as they walk with us in ours*<br /></span><br />each day more and more people admit to struggling with homosexual tendancies* our culture is emersed in a battle between what of this is right and what of this is wrong* and while i might not condone the act of homosexuality just as i would not agree with looking at porn or high <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1rpnR9T_UgOsBwbLGbRTPgKmhC9IFmbVjweNlzAn2-Y9Bba-LBAKByewqyzfWJ0hAJnfovG56wC1dpxa0WFKh6HKK18hNqSgNxEz0eFUxKM4imGQ1stdQAlIzApisDEeHQhk4yweZSXc/s1600-h/empathy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 151px; height: 121px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1rpnR9T_UgOsBwbLGbRTPgKmhC9IFmbVjweNlzAn2-Y9Bba-LBAKByewqyzfWJ0hAJnfovG56wC1dpxa0WFKh6HKK18hNqSgNxEz0eFUxKM4imGQ1stdQAlIzApisDEeHQhk4yweZSXc/s200/empathy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290218671751003618" border="0" /></a>consumption of alchol or even the use of illegal drugs i thought of a quote i heard many years ago that <span style="font-style: italic;">people need a place to belong before they need something to believe</span>* luke needed a place to belong* <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span><br />it was an afternoon two weeks later when i picked up the phone and gave luke a call* i shared with him my appologies for the distance i had put between us* he shared his understanding* this was the first of many calls to follow*Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-48164501919206624572008-12-21T19:25:00.003-06:002008-12-21T19:52:14.276-06:00The Present<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNsbIHRl1vFOKMATsonwly8fBHPjVMtA62_jbfn3pfk-76MBXic7U7fvXjACJrihQAluLZZo3vpWG_hy7qF7Br-KATsGqworiW3u7tHgR7r8O_iZ1B_XOre2jCznk43fV3Ria-e7G1jtY/s1600-h/Christmas-gift.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 135px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNsbIHRl1vFOKMATsonwly8fBHPjVMtA62_jbfn3pfk-76MBXic7U7fvXjACJrihQAluLZZo3vpWG_hy7qF7Br-KATsGqworiW3u7tHgR7r8O_iZ1B_XOre2jCznk43fV3Ria-e7G1jtY/s200/Christmas-gift.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282425446739415762" border="0" /></a>so there it was* under my christmas tree* the present* nothing like it had i ever seen before* but what did i expect i had never been loved like this before* it was so unimaginable how just a simple little thing like this could mean the world to me* i had received bigger things before* brighter things before* nicer smelling things before* even more attractive things before* but something about this present was like no other* it had meaning* it had value* it had purpose* it was mine and i was very happy*<br /><br />snow fell on the small town of marionville this year* everyone rejoiced but <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRS4pcUodKBfSJvhSmBuY8TYPYaFJStYwLNHsIyOGMqtHzVJEqEzQY6Jar-4R8GaOdt75uSlaYgszFLrfDXcAnegabf4CPDFNCrYMcrb24ya9_m2W35M5aa3owbbxnNG03E7giKG5fmbQ/s1600-h/sad+girl.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRS4pcUodKBfSJvhSmBuY8TYPYaFJStYwLNHsIyOGMqtHzVJEqEzQY6Jar-4R8GaOdt75uSlaYgszFLrfDXcAnegabf4CPDFNCrYMcrb24ya9_m2W35M5aa3owbbxnNG03E7giKG5fmbQ/s200/sad+girl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282425817011235330" border="0" /></a>one little girl* her name was karry* karry loved the snow just not this year's white wonder* one year it had been since she lost her mother* one agonizing* painful* lonely year without someone she was so closed to* someone she cherished* someone she thought would be there with her forever* it was amidst the falling snow last year that she held her mom's hand for the last time as the faint wisper of a promise came across her mother's lips* i'll be in your dreams forever* and karry replied* i'll never forget you* such powerful words* such powerful memories* such a powerful feeling of loss as the snow fell down on this time called the present*<br /><br />the present for so many can be such a rush of the emotions* whether the joy of a tangible present one can hold and admire* or the hurt of the present one can live in and experience* the fact is that there is no greater present than that of the one that transends anything we could ever hope for or desire and expresses its love through the moments we can hold on to* it is the present that will never fail or forsake us* the present that will never let us down* a present that will last in eternity* it doesn't take a thought or emotion* it simply is a present that is* relive that present everyday and be greatful for this gift goes on*<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">even so we* when we were</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> children, we</span><span style="font-style: italic;">re in bondage under the ele</span><span style="font-style: italic;">ments of the world* but when the fulness of the time was come* god sent forth his son* made of a woman, made under the law* to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons* </span>christian bible scripture<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYcChKd6jJp6U4jMdQeq6qM6-Ch5Iws-OcEsv4zI_ROBjHqFvvzBqMsZOKRXTjvggMCQ34VTWi8P_M7GUJCt2M7DeyxmAcAvgjumKL49fCASa5sZwYrVNzpOZf6dA-YXDQrm-5SVUDU8w/s1600-h/285.nativity.story.112806.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 106px; height: 77px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYcChKd6jJp6U4jMdQeq6qM6-Ch5Iws-OcEsv4zI_ROBjHqFvvzBqMsZOKRXTjvggMCQ34VTWi8P_M7GUJCt2M7DeyxmAcAvgjumKL49fCASa5sZwYrVNzpOZf6dA-YXDQrm-5SVUDU8w/s200/285.nativity.story.112806.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282426040633611010" border="0" /></a>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-28832457123310831442008-07-28T19:47:00.003-05:002008-07-28T20:21:55.212-05:00Paradox of our Time<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxC7YUT9ilBjsDkfh5M3gWlBW8iIrKbncESuGopg_oj5Tg7U49ZHtsI7h-jE4-_hSzT1nDyh3RMulTwJr6CRQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-24719354427341034362008-07-10T22:53:00.004-05:002008-12-11T00:10:13.573-06:00A Deaf Culturevulnerability* that is what it was when i shared my heart with you today* i felt like i poured out all that was within me* it was difficult* but i moved past my fears and anxiousness and opened up to you as my friend* my family member* my refuge* my hope*<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPYgXDHl4Gk7WQDGxUJaidEm9RdduQcmyKxTvbjDthXK6eYslkc7O5s3yMIkr-1420a3aSrgQRkz_5bxAWwqFlLSsA1GXEwFN_ykkcXqStwo5tBbmGYQc85jwH2UcvHQke0uuJsx80zc/s1600-h/upset.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPYgXDHl4Gk7WQDGxUJaidEm9RdduQcmyKxTvbjDthXK6eYslkc7O5s3yMIkr-1420a3aSrgQRkz_5bxAWwqFlLSsA1GXEwFN_ykkcXqStwo5tBbmGYQc85jwH2UcvHQke0uuJsx80zc/s200/upset.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221606775432009410" border="0" /></a>you were there* you spoke to me* frequent uh huhs* sures* i understands* and then you did it<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYKaO5Xg5yZ1bxxN0vK_KdGpN2-LaPKfAcVklFAAkErm4iwmWGBOHZsC8dQrGsgKlNeYY-q6zqBk79pfD5rY1WdHlUHV_0m-nU8NOvr1rKqD_cxwA72EMYUmQn8vVEz66ky3KPG_p_iec/s1600-h/silence1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYKaO5Xg5yZ1bxxN0vK_KdGpN2-LaPKfAcVklFAAkErm4iwmWGBOHZsC8dQrGsgKlNeYY-q6zqBk79pfD5rY1WdHlUHV_0m-nU8NOvr1rKqD_cxwA72EMYUmQn8vVEz66ky3KPG_p_iec/s200/silence1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221606932386015346" border="0" /></a> you spoke the words that i cringe to hear* "i know what your going through"* taken back* appalled at such a poor judgment of words* i do not want to hear what you are saying* and then you did it to me* you tried to fix things*<br /><br />i do not want to hear you because you are not willing to hear me* i never asked for an answer* i never wanted a response* i do not want you to know what i am going through* you are not me* only i can know that* i do not want to be fixed* to have the right answers* to make everything all right* i want to be where i am right now* in this emotion* amongst my own feelings* and all i want you to do is listen*<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN0aHi6Q71Uu6lW-mMrGGVPBmaVsWPkudGeJ-ju4YQwvHKq_Eq5JfMDykcPPaLSiniSpoR5WgunFpBLfMI47yQe9PK0EObWcK7m6gRPUCBSJvGXpHmh0AlB0agJRhmkhq7ZvjSZBs_1o4/s1600-h/silence2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN0aHi6Q71Uu6lW-mMrGGVPBmaVsWPkudGeJ-ju4YQwvHKq_Eq5JfMDykcPPaLSiniSpoR5WgunFpBLfMI47yQe9PK0EObWcK7m6gRPUCBSJvGXpHmh0AlB0agJRhmkhq7ZvjSZBs_1o4/s200/silence2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221607058335458146" border="0" /></a>i live in a deaf culture today* people who have the ability to hear* but choose not to listen* hear me out* let it just be what it is* do not speak to my head* instead hear my heart* truly listen to the rhythm of its beats* follow the message it shares* and look beyond the misconceptions of the outer shell to see the real need for a listening ear deep down inside* a place where there is no wrong or right* just that it is what it is*<br /><br />silence could be the greatest vaccine to cure our deaf culture*Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-5204323056867714102008-06-28T14:55:00.008-05:002008-12-11T00:10:14.505-06:00A BandAid for a Broken Life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJPiXsEcifBKcYhWLdUlWhlsjuL3NeN5aLF4u86TsLHgPXrKViStam-nT7PTJfNewR4PrhUW2rZr9WL3l-cuKvvHOtPbUTWTsqVdswT9l24eUgxGBHC_D7Ud03C7Z3XgxcDvgfkSP98lo/s1600-h/stairs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 217px; height: 164px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJPiXsEcifBKcYhWLdUlWhlsjuL3NeN5aLF4u86TsLHgPXrKViStam-nT7PTJfNewR4PrhUW2rZr9WL3l-cuKvvHOtPbUTWTsqVdswT9l24eUgxGBHC_D7Ud03C7Z3XgxcDvgfkSP98lo/s200/stairs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217025706773816210" border="0" /></a>it was friday morning a very important day for sherri as she left her house headed for work * as she drove she thought about all of the goals that she wanted to accomplish that day * there was so much to do and so little time to do them in as was usual for every day too * but today was a little different * there was a little pep in her step * a little will to succeed * a desire to get it all done and still have time to enjoy for herself * sherri reached the parking garage and pulled into the first parking spot she could find and got out of her suv * that is when things really began to get interesting * when she neared the stairs she was still thinking of a plan that would help her accomplish all that had to be done for the day when she missed the sign that said wetstairs * she slipped * fell * and landed awkwardly on her leg * thinking now she had broken it she frantically and painfully looked around for what to do next * she reached for the rail but could not grab it * she called out but no one was around * finally she reached into her purse to only find an old Bandaid *<br /><br />coming before the bishop a young man studying to be a priest knows that<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgloeOXb_EVO8wBI5esyVopjC6_rvOur7nj8yzR1tNUePQ_92p98YOmTfIlp9ZlA3gYrhuxVtF9Ep895XZz9cQg56eb21F0YDEIUozZO8a-IkLCPMyLGm_pKWmsApwyFCKdL-Xj4ttB9X8/s1600-h/priest_collar.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 155px; height: 164px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgloeOXb_EVO8wBI5esyVopjC6_rvOur7nj8yzR1tNUePQ_92p98YOmTfIlp9ZlA3gYrhuxVtF9Ep895XZz9cQg56eb21F0YDEIUozZO8a-IkLCPMyLGm_pKWmsApwyFCKdL-Xj4ttB9X8/s200/priest_collar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217029127029622482" border="0" /></a> his future is in the hands of the man he stands before * nothing he can say or do can change the bishops decision and all the future of this man is wrapped up in this moment * if it had not been for past mistakes all might be well * but no one is perfect * we all make mistakes * but sometimes because of our mistakes the consequences can be greater than we can bear * it has taken years of preparation * training * studying * praying * believing * and serving * to get to this moment now * and a simple no from an authoritative figure could make it all worthless effort for the young man * the young man reaches deep inside for an answer but all he can find is pain and worry *<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJAsmW6HkA2Hp-0NpieqfAipVB5a_WeiUkTkdp50GYzt0SP1JXuacRr4oDPCBwryMOYh3Sw3RxTvcHAQnjVuZo2H6TOkPnfcrHS4KZr7C8gbPkDtdErb5L15g3FTwYJnhUcfFI-oDes8s/s1600-h/cave.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJAsmW6HkA2Hp-0NpieqfAipVB5a_WeiUkTkdp50GYzt0SP1JXuacRr4oDPCBwryMOYh3Sw3RxTvcHAQnjVuZo2H6TOkPnfcrHS4KZr7C8gbPkDtdErb5L15g3FTwYJnhUcfFI-oDes8s/s200/cave.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217034622838341666" border="0" /></a>if ever he had needed a hand it was now * john struggled to see out of the small hole into which he had fallen thirteen feet down * earlier that day he was sure he had passed by that same area and didn't see a hole * but finishing his hike he decided to return to the area to rest and enjoy his dinner before it was time to step up his tent * last he could remember he was stepping on what seemed like a soft spot covered with leaves * an then * falling and falling and falling to the same spot he now lay hurting all over * barely able to move * with simply a bag of chips in his hand * john needed to scream as loud as he could * he tried * but all that came out was silent air<br /><br />many times we find ourself in places where we face overwhelming odds * the unexpected comes and goes from day today * it creates for us inconvenience * stress * pain * and constant worry * sometimes no preparation could ever ready us for the circumstance that might be right around the corner * it is common for us to want to fix these things ourselves but sometimes our own voice can not reach the very top of our obstacle * our own worry can not get us through the giants we face* and our own bandaids can not fix our broken lives *<br /><br />it takes something greater than what we have to offer to come to our rescue in times of trouble or doubt* something that sometimes is not even tangible or able to be seen or heard * this is the infinite wonder imposed on a finite being * the miracle of hope and faith * when the answer to your problem is not there in your hands try to find your answer in one who is greater than you and has all things under control *<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyu5BTpZ_oN4ZFTzho18NWg5MB4WyxgUIDivGQJtoAak8pJSaVUdHs8MBEsI97pBu6Bl9OcfmazD9GYLcFkdSk-ghtEZD684L4ZnA9epOEOmad1yAe9kKrfuDnMnIkizUGv2OBKIoGZI/s1600-h/reaching+christ.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyu5BTpZ_oN4ZFTzho18NWg5MB4WyxgUIDivGQJtoAak8pJSaVUdHs8MBEsI97pBu6Bl9OcfmazD9GYLcFkdSk-ghtEZD684L4ZnA9epOEOmad1yAe9kKrfuDnMnIkizUGv2OBKIoGZI/s200/reaching+christ.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217035522037297346" border="0" /></a>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-84418797071673138052008-04-12T14:49:00.006-05:002008-12-11T00:10:15.009-06:00No Tears For Me<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFP7Ufjy9EbV1DwQIh6-sqoJwrjftjIE1eRi-OYBbJdQo9cMKRmSCtCyhz9FNI3oBp9-pohnveMI7N9loHeQcvmRw0_luYlhMF_sLO6PkhvrtgZ6PXHis4z8PX51nKosqvM0C4TSRVhc/s1600-h/airplane.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 103px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFP7Ufjy9EbV1DwQIh6-sqoJwrjftjIE1eRi-OYBbJdQo9cMKRmSCtCyhz9FNI3oBp9-pohnveMI7N9loHeQcvmRw0_luYlhMF_sLO6PkhvrtgZ6PXHis4z8PX51nKosqvM0C4TSRVhc/s200/airplane.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188454369564241842" border="0" /></a><br />i didn't think it would be this easy* me leaving and everything* of course i did not think it would be this hard either* mixed emotions* joyfully waiting* anxiously anticipating* sacred out of my wits* yet at the same time overwhelmed with excitement<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzBfIGAhm9Goo0BozewQ-mMrIRpmCoxCzPHV9xDdRhkJ4jb8q1tgjrqFENMNKif4rmYbLhe4-2o40w2zuJCOxJ5lPTg-4rmELRcFsZ35XIzrdLZ7CIMFpJ3g2YFFxiUdGEWQW5u6oYfZA/s1600-h/suitcase.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 96px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzBfIGAhm9Goo0BozewQ-mMrIRpmCoxCzPHV9xDdRhkJ4jb8q1tgjrqFENMNKif4rmYbLhe4-2o40w2zuJCOxJ5lPTg-4rmELRcFsZ35XIzrdLZ7CIMFpJ3g2YFFxiUdGEWQW5u6oYfZA/s200/suitcase.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188454004492021650" border="0" /></a>as i pack up my things with exuberance and quickness* ready for the road ahead* something tugs at my heart like a boat ready to set sail yet still tied to the dock* there is a simple little reminder of you* i pick it up* i read it* i hold it close* i remember* oh the smiles* the tears* the laughter* the battles* so many emotions* so many things to recall* so little time before it is a thought in the past* a faded memory of who i once was<br /><br />it should be easier than this* after all i have left others before* here one day gone the next* but this time is unique* this time is now*<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd_FyJUw46uU7D5kFNBkKunG89A4M89a8733FYqvtcjCrOZ7AVQ2tD-E-roeMgaOiOUi7xAdsd5us2IwIf7s-rj6SFdaR32nN8XulTkaCod-NoyC2DsdiAS_eq8gvq6-l3agbKkJTHG0E/s1600-h/hansshake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 145px; height: 113px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd_FyJUw46uU7D5kFNBkKunG89A4M89a8733FYqvtcjCrOZ7AVQ2tD-E-roeMgaOiOUi7xAdsd5us2IwIf7s-rj6SFdaR32nN8XulTkaCod-NoyC2DsdiAS_eq8gvq6-l3agbKkJTHG0E/s200/hansshake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188454171995746210" border="0" /></a><br /><br />i want no tears for me* no heart ache* no grief* not even a good bye* just a simple "until again" will do to get each of us through* this shall be the marker of a journey that never ends* but one that shall begin* again*again* and again* it is not a salutation but an invitation that keeps on giving of itself to friends and family who never forget and never close the door on wonderful relationships*<br /><br />with that i make the last words of this post...<br /><br />"until again"Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-91343752046751903472008-04-06T21:17:00.004-05:002008-12-11T00:10:15.284-06:00Reflection<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnG-HEeM7bf5j_aeJzcXoWpJnhsjTudAu5DhaqWBgJAlkAGNxBnpcNGEJEndHyFdHAq_pxJX7vf29JCn0FlKfyQ95ncAgJOPhOuMRC5MMvCXCjxWG_Feua0faotHdym5hNWjsoDNFd6LU/s1600-h/boy+looking+in+water.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 97px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnG-HEeM7bf5j_aeJzcXoWpJnhsjTudAu5DhaqWBgJAlkAGNxBnpcNGEJEndHyFdHAq_pxJX7vf29JCn0FlKfyQ95ncAgJOPhOuMRC5MMvCXCjxWG_Feua0faotHdym5hNWjsoDNFd6LU/s200/boy+looking+in+water.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186327844357420962" border="0" /></a>staring in the clear blue water i see myself* like looking in the mirror it shows every aspect of who i am* only reversed* at this point it doesn't matter what anyone else sees or interprets in the reflection* all that matters is what i see and how i view myself* that is hard for me because i can be my greatest critic* somewhere deep down inside i want to see greatness* purity* uniqueness* joy* a whole person* with everything all together* but something on the surface notices the negative things about myself* that i do not like*<br /><br />i see all the blemishes* the paleness* the scars and wrinkles*<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDTJv3YzBFQsVpuvOuX7pQBO3Ze-alCardNa4ZR_PPhBLB39xcfdzJbJhOjCBX2uqvfYGbWvjxdl5Toqj6thaoHtYRKz9cdRy3BKXOWzfVUq9ij4951F_hWkaS0bV5h5otb9Ob_ndkhOk/s1600-h/tree+reflection.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 118px; height: 177px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDTJv3YzBFQsVpuvOuX7pQBO3Ze-alCardNa4ZR_PPhBLB39xcfdzJbJhOjCBX2uqvfYGbWvjxdl5Toqj6thaoHtYRKz9cdRy3BKXOWzfVUq9ij4951F_hWkaS0bV5h5otb9Ob_ndkhOk/s200/tree+reflection.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186327002543830930" border="0" /></a><br />i am sucked into the image staring lost in a world of thought and wonder* i wonder what it would be like if the blemishes scars paleness and wrinkles were not there* it is at that point that a leaf falls into the water and the image is disturbed* i return from the world of wonder and again see deep inside*<br /><br />i gain a sense of self worth just for a moment and i appreciate me* all that i am* all that i value* and all is well again* i stare as the ripples of the water move over my reflection and know all is going to be ok*<br /><br />i learn something in that time of reflection* it is easy to doubt myself when i am distracted by all that is wrong and miss the valuable aspects of a life of purpose*<br /><br />*walk away*Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-62399361424026588352008-03-31T16:31:00.006-05:002008-12-11T00:10:16.025-06:00This is blasphemy...this is madness...this is church<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlyxBiAkm-ELQX3_g9PlWcMPv_6BFrjmx4vZR4dkCdU626vcNWNRY8rIwjMr8gTCziNKqR-bAm43QYKAcP-O54J9L8JFIWlvTOV1fhJMhFHjXBr6WUBsh7eLiFA9vUnF0q5vN7d7pkht4/s1600-h/precher.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 166px; height: 117px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlyxBiAkm-ELQX3_g9PlWcMPv_6BFrjmx4vZR4dkCdU626vcNWNRY8rIwjMr8gTCziNKqR-bAm43QYKAcP-O54J9L8JFIWlvTOV1fhJMhFHjXBr6WUBsh7eLiFA9vUnF0q5vN7d7pkht4/s200/precher.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184085141284468450" border="0" /></a><br />the long boring sermon went on and one*no humor*no purpose*just rambling options about what he though was right and what he thought was wrong*but then the faint sound of snoring from the back captures my attention and i laugh a little on the inside*i am not alone* one more story and i will be done -- the fourth time he has made that statement and yet i still do not believe him* my butt is starting to hurt* it feels like it is 60 degrees in here* ahhhhh* why does she keep looking at me rolling her eyes*get me out of here now<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdEq88UOrHXJfa1BM6txPdTZLbZova_ukaSgD5ub2Kjuwof03JyprqSUt11Bu1Q948_fmaR0Ic5l7Ew1d8_9nZsrfO01vdO4LTeVpspvFCvhReuHes1vm44JsS0cPfWtN7oZWemACrB14/s1600-h/gossip.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 102px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdEq88UOrHXJfa1BM6txPdTZLbZova_ukaSgD5ub2Kjuwof03JyprqSUt11Bu1Q948_fmaR0Ic5l7Ew1d8_9nZsrfO01vdO4LTeVpspvFCvhReuHes1vm44JsS0cPfWtN7oZWemACrB14/s200/gossip.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184085373212702450" border="0" /></a>whispers*did you know that sarah just stopped coming* i heard she now goes to the lake on sundays* really* i thought she was just embarrassed about being impregnated for the second time by the man she is not married to but sleeps with*huh* she doesn't even take care of that baby she has got right now* she left it a few weeks ago in a hot car all by itself* i heard cps almost took the baby from her* you know she is doing drugs again* well she better not come around my house that little slut drug dealer* hopefully she will not bring that spirit in this church* (sarah who has never done drugs and has never had sex walks out of the hospital sunday afternoon after donating a kidney to her diabetic brother)<br /><br />beautiful aesthetics* lots of programs and events* friendly greeters at the door* expensive suits choir robes electronic equipment* large steeples* exciting fellowship gatherings* financial campaigns* coffee shops and restaurants* flyers mailouts promotionals* websites and podcasts* all inside<br /><br />drunkards* homeless* lonely* radicals* liberals* atheists* agnostics* pagans and wicans* buddhists* homosexuals* thieves* murders* child molesters* rock and rap music* intellectuals* all outside<br /><br />what seems so pretty on the inside really belongs on the outside and what seems so ugly on the outside should be on the inside* is this blasphemy...is this madness...no this is church* jesus came to seek and save what is lost not lose what could be saved* the church needs to be radical* it needs to tear down wall and barriers* it needs to be relevant* or it does not need to be at all<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzJszABP__kKVtbXKqW3AL8ScV9uv85Rf95IG_c6wOCcIaQZL-_5z3_EDf42jVvkAY2MfGd6VKNYmnKp6D5X_uFFMOtQnLdNYd6a68Cr5V9KCqCiWU422yfsIrXsDZduqaW1wZt8LlXE/s1600-h/neon+cross.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 72px; height: 99px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzJszABP__kKVtbXKqW3AL8ScV9uv85Rf95IG_c6wOCcIaQZL-_5z3_EDf42jVvkAY2MfGd6VKNYmnKp6D5X_uFFMOtQnLdNYd6a68Cr5V9KCqCiWU422yfsIrXsDZduqaW1wZt8LlXE/s200/neon+cross.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184090157806270210" border="0" /></a>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-66980056855347163742008-03-25T21:15:00.005-05:002008-12-11T00:10:16.622-06:00I Cried in the Wildernessdavid sped up* faster*faster* his breath visible in the cold air as he gasped for every inhalation possible*no time for looking back* branches breaking under his feet as he journeyed deeper and deeper into the woods* away from civilization* away from people*away from the pain and suffering<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8J2uQEReItE3O7vOg5orC1-TSyX5NYMHAiUkaex0xPXVNEmcBcHIDqI3tNIcUvlaH1dkBsKWu9IN-Lb0xmjQCUAsnz2i-Vu5q4jBIpCf8bqU-w-TldAQLqv8x3nlzkwf-oTHM4lkYaI/s1600-h/tree.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 76px; height: 103px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8J2uQEReItE3O7vOg5orC1-TSyX5NYMHAiUkaex0xPXVNEmcBcHIDqI3tNIcUvlaH1dkBsKWu9IN-Lb0xmjQCUAsnz2i-Vu5q4jBIpCf8bqU-w-TldAQLqv8x3nlzkwf-oTHM4lkYaI/s200/tree.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181874371293361858" border="0" /></a>just a single tree stood in the wooded area* old* weathered* enduring time* yet now withering away* the leaves had all fallen off its branches long ago and the bark on its trunk rots as the days go by*forgotten*abandoned*hope resting on the thought that one might just pass by<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEZ3R3GO4_-X7HDOEYE-tBNLEsPUIAYy7fgrSc6cGT5yXvn1drHMjYaakhr0vVaI30ZPKlo3tDC-1kIYHIrcZSYrlqZfeA5R1_ivVUvc9jOV76brEgDhCz0NuzVPlza3UEUUl4zYwyks/s1600-h/depression_in_youth.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 75px; height: 114px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEZ3R3GO4_-X7HDOEYE-tBNLEsPUIAYy7fgrSc6cGT5yXvn1drHMjYaakhr0vVaI30ZPKlo3tDC-1kIYHIrcZSYrlqZfeA5R1_ivVUvc9jOV76brEgDhCz0NuzVPlza3UEUUl4zYwyks/s200/depression_in_youth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181874817969960658" border="0" /></a><br /><br />she was handed the paper by her teacher* he knew she had cheated on her final exam*F* the grade was obvious* had she have ever thought she would be caught the attempt would have never even been contemplated*but it was* guilt*humiliation *fear *hopelessness *a feeling of loneliness as if secluded in a vast and dangerous wilderness crossed her mind<br /><br />i cried in the wilderness* no one was there* i so longed that someone would hear my plea* no one was there* tears fell in my wilderness* they never hit the ground* caught up in my frustrations they simply faded with time* anger in my wilderness* no one to blame* just my own ambition* neglect* choices* mistakes* why is none found in my wilderness*<br /><br />a simple plea and there it is* a light shining through the darkness of the forest* a glimmering sign of hope* joy* peace* and there in the depths of my mind a small voice saying i am here in your wilderness* so i run to as fast as i can from the doubt that consumes my soul to the edge of my wilderness where life comes into view* i turn to see my wilderness behind me and without hesitation we return to lifeJody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-55085444627490637072007-11-08T22:11:00.006-06:002008-12-11T00:10:17.530-06:00Fuzzy Purple Slippers<div><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQ10lYcmPNqP5deWLyLsT3C210dWRPQYDhrxLEiuHKHk_vqjR2dOcvG5fcmf9nrkDphrZ2eUwaO-6AJEyE7MVjSANUYy-mIqXLg6_oK-wlupXREtuA8hHfav9BFwXa3bQbsHoSWvaPCA/s1600-h/couchcity.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208087759944262994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQ10lYcmPNqP5deWLyLsT3C210dWRPQYDhrxLEiuHKHk_vqjR2dOcvG5fcmf9nrkDphrZ2eUwaO-6AJEyE7MVjSANUYy-mIqXLg6_oK-wlupXREtuA8hHfav9BFwXa3bQbsHoSWvaPCA/s200/couchcity.jpg" border="0" /></a>step back from work why dont you * embrace the solice of rest and relaxation * feel the comfort of the couch with a book on your lap or the remote in your hands * change into something comfortable* stop thinking of the past * stop pondering the future* it is time for you* slip into the coziness of you warm fuzzy purple slippers *<br /><div><br /><div>manic* chaos* hectic* noisy* transition into quiet* seperated* peaceful* enjoyable</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208086795379244242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QmIRViP8YlfwqY2UXGxwIZst6zt6845XzzFDrc-9n35p8OlsCpubqPcBuZbDPYFsDrYCbVxYcdvDwhgf2QdhTVbIxLjBRpvABo6fmjIv9BcO7d3r6TlWwUj4RFr8nt2nfr2eYyU0IsA/s200/busy+people.bmp" border="0" /><br /><div>what is it that people cannot stop for one moment to enjoy the moment* is it that one does not appreciate the moment he/she has* is it that one cannot trust that the moment in itself can and will exist without contemplation or effort to some degree* then why the effort* why the restlessness*<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgczmUUgUx9tVixH9Zolt7vfdrPPopbvZQh2Fj3oXudwwE0Wgpl6QhE7V_D-Fsb0H-Bm_E83s_L2l7hP9L7nK0dt3RMsvSXdnHJxilam67yTuG4PIeQTGfmiyxC3Ga19jiANvFgjjYCw9I/s1600-h/paperwork.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208089707814189106" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="129" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgczmUUgUx9tVixH9Zolt7vfdrPPopbvZQh2Fj3oXudwwE0Wgpl6QhE7V_D-Fsb0H-Bm_E83s_L2l7hP9L7nK0dt3RMsvSXdnHJxilam67yTuG4PIeQTGfmiyxC3Ga19jiANvFgjjYCw9I/s200/paperwork.jpg" width="94" border="0" /></a></div><div>sue plans her vacation from work for a week* but it seems like a harder task than it is worth* after all she cant leave the office without preparing for it in advance* there is the working at a greater degree to get not only this weeks work done but also the next weeks* and what if sue wants to go out of town* there is the packing* the calling* her animals* her plants* the mail* bills paid on time* security* money* sue determines is it really worth it -- ill only concern myself while i am gone*<br /></div><br /><br /><div>reality is that in todays culture rest* relaxation* comfort is not priority* it is almost something that is an option instead of something we really need* we do not think ahead and consider that rest should be an intricate part of our life and our calendar* </div><br /><div>the results of a lack of comfort and rest: burn out* anxiety attacks* depression* moral failure* giving up* etc etc etc* does not this reflect the a statistical anaysis of our society in our hussle and bussel world*<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHw6xPstLd3Oh2AmbI3JFvCE7MQ_efxEAHTALG5aYFULP2huYtJQA6DWF7I2uJIgxG-_sSzNQ2MJqeBVvu7FvVeVM__y7XSb6slzvCvDRlV13X8_HeZcBqlz_0yIVIN65ntbEMw0HEkTg/s1600-h/purpleslippers.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208088383069865394" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 97px" height="88" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHw6xPstLd3Oh2AmbI3JFvCE7MQ_efxEAHTALG5aYFULP2huYtJQA6DWF7I2uJIgxG-_sSzNQ2MJqeBVvu7FvVeVM__y7XSb6slzvCvDRlV13X8_HeZcBqlz_0yIVIN65ntbEMw0HEkTg/s200/purpleslippers.jpg" width="104" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>get radical* take time to put on the fuzzy purple slippers* </div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-41214581503309577172007-10-26T11:19:00.000-05:002008-12-11T00:10:18.447-06:00Jetsons Meet the Finstones<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeb7Bv2o0YPBuw50GAKXZbQ5QhfTvTpxxdSl8VksSFoOzcECkkbZv6XqV6bqnFkhSetPN_NVP7P8YL7nRnxml3oYh2W_-zPYIM89YWEFfKA5CELu5BgO6gQR9BI78_K_x6Bpl8XlRvkgk/s1600-h/jetsons-the.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 131px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeb7Bv2o0YPBuw50GAKXZbQ5QhfTvTpxxdSl8VksSFoOzcECkkbZv6XqV6bqnFkhSetPN_NVP7P8YL7nRnxml3oYh2W_-zPYIM89YWEFfKA5CELu5BgO6gQR9BI78_K_x6Bpl8XlRvkgk/s200/jetsons-the.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133656622186340962" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNs1iQxhn9SrH3NTx7iGN7jZc509lwpygBejgqwv9cZxJCdBMNcNx31VyWXUHhloifVd97DI2AqgwAdtzgbn7Pm90bObrEdhg_H0_rEq7Gf3zMZ9vbCcptqW0LhYdmnCEcvmfW9Ygou78/s1600-h/misc-Flinstones-Land.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 147px; height: 137px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNs1iQxhn9SrH3NTx7iGN7jZc509lwpygBejgqwv9cZxJCdBMNcNx31VyWXUHhloifVd97DI2AqgwAdtzgbn7Pm90bObrEdhg_H0_rEq7Gf3zMZ9vbCcptqW0LhYdmnCEcvmfW9Ygou78/s200/misc-Flinstones-Land.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133660955808342690" border="0" /></a><br />i literally felt my blood pressure rising as i saw her slowly, but willfully pull out in front of me* it would have been different if she had planned on speeding up or turning soon -- but for a long journey i was forced to drive behind an old lady going only seven miles an hour in a thirty-five mile an hour zone* it is not that i was already speeding or anything, but i had places to go and things to do and to me time meant the world*<br /><br />that is when it hit me like a mac truck coming one hundred miles an hour at my face* to me time meant everything -- but to this older citizen of our small town time <span style="font-weight: bold;">was</span> everything*<br /><br />michael held the hand of his father while he watched the man who raised him slowly fading away in a hospital bed* michael's father had always been there for him throughout his life -- the little league baseball games -- the high school football games -- his graduation from west point military academy -- and the wedding of the love of his life* dad had left him the family business to run, but beyond all the times that michael turned away his father's help and fought for his independence -- "just let me do it on my own" -- michael felt needy and helpless now more than ever before* how would he ever fill his father's shoes*<br /><br />one said, "he'll change everything"* someone else stated, "what were they thinking bringing him in here?"* still another explained, "he's just a baby"* the new company ceo was only 34 when he was brought on to the multibillion dollar industry* the company needed a fresh need look on their product and the young man came highly recommended and exceptionally qualified for the position* too bad no one else felt that way* leading men and women twice his age and with double the number of years experience was a difficult task -- but the new ceo was up to the challenge and ready to empower all those serving with him*<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0l3erlj4znbBm4QLIWoP-G1iZkqF-kuivHJEd7-JTm_DvPchAMySpwW13sszDWF7GmjozxA8cY4Cyuux8fPiVwo_hRf2H6iCbNh4iUhmVi1wwRPiiVzRmpBfqryFbmArsQa6aj0_yD7o/s1600-h/bwoldman.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 113px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0l3erlj4znbBm4QLIWoP-G1iZkqF-kuivHJEd7-JTm_DvPchAMySpwW13sszDWF7GmjozxA8cY4Cyuux8fPiVwo_hRf2H6iCbNh4iUhmVi1wwRPiiVzRmpBfqryFbmArsQa6aj0_yD7o/s200/bwoldman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133660410347496082" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxswPyhJlXrI-IWhg_tQmkg7Uv2MXbKGwdFiCPxgZhhS94uxgOBiIhJInSR6JFKgj4-mIoPAL6h8PYoooLA3dXpzIUvEgdd8rM1jNpScpgstnMVjiF0u1WbcqJXm19T0IRfqaQQvl0brc/s1600-h/bwpunkkid.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 121px; height: 167px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxswPyhJlXrI-IWhg_tQmkg7Uv2MXbKGwdFiCPxgZhhS94uxgOBiIhJInSR6JFKgj4-mIoPAL6h8PYoooLA3dXpzIUvEgdd8rM1jNpScpgstnMVjiF0u1WbcqJXm19T0IRfqaQQvl0brc/s200/bwpunkkid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133660152649458306" border="0" /></a><br />what happens when two cultures collide -- when young meet old and old meet young* young men and women today struggle respecting those who preceded them in life* due to the internet age the young now days have access to far more knowledge and information than older citizens so why should they respect ignorant elders who really don't know that much* everything an older man or woman has he or she worked for -- respect in this world didn't come easy to us so why should we give it away to some little bratty kid*<br /><br />i wonder what the jestsons and flinstones would have done if they had met each other in another time and another place* could there be a mutual agreement between fred and george* could they share in each other's values* i think that's the key -- understanding and sharing the values of different cultures -- whether it is a matter of time -- dependence -- importance -- or anything else - we want what matters to us to matter to someone else --therefore we must respect (not so much agree or accept) but respect another culture's worth*Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-88469860199071140012007-10-26T10:02:00.000-05:002008-12-11T00:10:18.683-06:00Filling an Empty Wall<div>empty* barren* blank* pure* desolate* void* the wall hasn't been touched* no holes* no color* no scrapes or scratches* yet i am compelled to put something on it -- what? start with color -- dark? light? eccentric? conservative? earth tones?* maybe a picture --religious? modern? historical? global? does what we put on the wall reflect who we are? our values? our morals? how about what we stand for?<br /><br />i asked a close friend of mine to help me cover my wall* i liked the color she painted the wall, but not so mu<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYWxg3EWIMN7MGx1cIWBjy6D5yOEjubAF_POD-sJQcAXdMcloFvbf6KXV96EpN_0fe6N-omEvrPwg_Zq9a_zqY1wZ9AQ1SLDZ3OncCFRMsXXMpWGx1DIgwKrD-a8Uxj6GtShjgYoVMybI/s1600-h/painting.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125789868986484466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYWxg3EWIMN7MGx1cIWBjy6D5yOEjubAF_POD-sJQcAXdMcloFvbf6KXV96EpN_0fe6N-omEvrPwg_Zq9a_zqY1wZ9AQ1SLDZ3OncCFRMsXXMpWGx1DIgwKrD-a8Uxj6GtShjgYoVMybI/s200/painting.bmp" border="0" /></a>ch the picture that she placed on it* actually the picture was quite offensive...but i kept it to myself just thinking i don't want offend her by speak out or taking it down --the picture stayed up for quite some time and visitors who came by *i think* also found it offensive, like me they didn't say anything...just turned and walked away shaking their head* </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>before long noone really wanted to come and visit the house where the offensive picture on a once blank wall hung* not many people really thought very highly of me or even wanted to go places with me* there wasn't anything wrong with me...but something just wasn't right about the picture i allowed to hang on my wall* even though it might hurt my friend who placed it there, i decided finally to take it down...</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>**our lives don't just begin with bad things defining who we are...we make the choice to allow things to be put in our lives that corrupt our being and reputation* we can be the greatest person in every other aspect, but we will aways be judged by that one thing that just isn't right* it's not until long after we make a decision to take that thing out of our lives that we see our reputation and dignity restored to us once again. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>*what paintings have you allowed to hang on your wall?*</div>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-31291674989481775382007-10-26T08:25:00.000-05:002008-12-11T00:10:18.993-06:00The Tattered Hundred Dollar Billas t<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5NNv7W6nt7LTB1gb44FuyfZcO6DrFnoS3bdgonkEmeJawBqX4GIAMSMwQSVyqFgKNq07lD926GNDz0UZQ3XyDdNx2gMCRCJNq1pZOb6OGZ9zuvH8SJh5VluwaBnQ20zX4hSdJdS2jJfc/s1600-h/homless.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125654856689534610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 83px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 119px" height="177" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5NNv7W6nt7LTB1gb44FuyfZcO6DrFnoS3bdgonkEmeJawBqX4GIAMSMwQSVyqFgKNq07lD926GNDz0UZQ3XyDdNx2gMCRCJNq1pZOb6OGZ9zuvH8SJh5VluwaBnQ20zX4hSdJdS2jJfc/s200/homless.jpg" width="111" border="0" /></a>he weather grows cool and winter turns the corner a hungry man sits under a bridge keeping warm and staying dry* tired from walking he stops to think of a time when things weren't so difficult* he remembers warm evening meals with his family, hot morning showers before work, and weekends shopping for new clothes that would be impressive to those he came accross during the week* but not now...things have changed...all is lost and in the past...But, in a brief moment his world changes -- a local business owner approaches where he is sitting* stops* looks* thinks*<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcuS3M5cmshaZ4g4OA1-2BzThhqUUumr9HCAFrUGZVIXXkeMQM43W9tmOqfBNkYFA26qO3tRQp8cnnyCD8kfJOrrjrIBdzoESV5Mjcewu6HUXLM8VMHDOrtsgsiWqF8BbVWv86v00EgCY/s1600-h/master.jpg"></a><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div>a martial arts master who has been training for over forty years enters into the post office* wearing jeans and a teeshirt noone knew his profession was teaching martial art leaders worldwide* he entered the long line in the front instead of the back* accidentally* suddenly another man reached up, grabbed his shirt, and pushed him out of line* the martial arts master lowered his head turned and moved to the back* the other man stated as he walked past "that's what i thought! best you know your place"* the martial arts master smiled to himself*</div><br />it was on the campus of yale university that i saw it* slightly covered by candy bar wrappers, empty coke cans, and unwanted class notes was a tattered hundred dollar bill* i don't know how on this huge, busy campus that this bill had been overlooked or how it was on this day that i happened upon it* but it was there -- dirty* tattered* crumpled* it didn't look like much, but that didn't change its value* i started thinking about what i could do with this hundred dollar bill --what could i buy?-- how would i spend it* right now it didn't matter what it looked like...where it came from...or how it got there...right now i saw the value and worth in my new found prize*<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1OAsLmuyWVUNqegt-tizaf4sqzZrtxSvOajEXlLSQ-G8hw5bT3j5oEW9x-OR0M1Lf8MbsJgf4Gp-Dng_nfPYHWpYlihK8fNN8YM7MZxIhPwylZB-sPeW8zcweMqUFV1JmUSCei8ElOQ/s1600-h/helpinghands.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125656454417368786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="109" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1OAsLmuyWVUNqegt-tizaf4sqzZrtxSvOajEXlLSQ-G8hw5bT3j5oEW9x-OR0M1Lf8MbsJgf4Gp-Dng_nfPYHWpYlihK8fNN8YM7MZxIhPwylZB-sPeW8zcweMqUFV1JmUSCei8ElOQ/s200/helpinghands.jpg" width="76" border="0" /></a>in reality there are "tattered hundred dollar bills" all around us* do you see them* if not -- you're not looking close enough* they may be stopping under a bridge to take a rest on their journey or they may be standing in line behind you* they have worth* they have value* but can you see it beyond what they look like on the outside...maybe like everyone else you missed it the first time you passed by* go back* look closer* look with intent* look with purpose*<br /></div><div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-49867613413847286792007-10-25T11:44:00.000-05:002008-12-11T00:10:19.510-06:00Common Unity = Community<div><div><div><div>a lady told me the other day about how much she had stuggled over the years with so many different issues* one of the issues she disscussed was that of "not being able to financially get ahead in life." She said, "every time i get a little money (i.e. a pay raise at the job, income tax return, etc.) something comes up and that money quickly goes out the door" * </div><br /><div>i used to ask myself why sometimes we go through what we go through in life?* why do bad things happen to us?* why does it seem like we go through so many struggles?* is it all meaningless or can something actually come out of it*</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGR5I1LZ80MX3T2Inp2Xyg_nEcoOBC2cLgz_xKJ0p66yD5IRud48wN6UmMrN31hJTDsfC-YimgX5H08liI9_49L4qRaN5A11MlWG34_emHCkgnrY_Ggu1Z2gWeElSGOyN4uN3lWIjcNjs/s1600-h/loneliness.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125360032954467906" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 138px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 90px" height="90" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGR5I1LZ80MX3T2Inp2Xyg_nEcoOBC2cLgz_xKJ0p66yD5IRud48wN6UmMrN31hJTDsfC-YimgX5H08liI9_49L4qRaN5A11MlWG34_emHCkgnrY_Ggu1Z2gWeElSGOyN4uN3lWIjcNjs/s200/loneliness.jpg" width="147" border="0" /></a><br /><div>i pondered this lady's concern and i remembered a time when that stuggle seemed so real to me* "how will i pay my bills this month?" why can't i make enough to invest or set up a savings account?" -- these were questions that used to consume my every waking moment...</div><br /><div>but one day while taking my focus off my needs and instead investing that time into focusing on something greater than myself and reaching out to serve someone else's need, that soon became less of a concern and i was content with the fact that by believing the provision would be there*<br /></div><div>sharing this experience with her -- although not so profound -- she likewise became content upon hearing the encouraging guidance of "look for God's ways first and while you do, all that you need will be given to you."* it's the thought that there is something greater than we that when going after it, it will provide for us.<br /></div><div>understanding where she was, because of where i had been -- i was able to develop a common unity (community) with this lady, in which a relationship was built* maybe that's why i myself went through my stuggles so that in overcoming i could build a testimony that would develop a relationship and thus bring purpose to my own journey and life* </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_FgJvkcJ-7BapfHVqTMoglTMt5BlWVY3gpuQbNWPNgsupxBBtlcfqPVhMO0lBkXZgM69hq-Sx7CoXNQqrOl0Zf6alY_vwVys7g-wuNKXJWkcWe8gwnGoW1XXwd7TVIni-HCwFtsDX8OU/s1600-h/reachingout.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125360797458646642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 93px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 116px" height="121" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_FgJvkcJ-7BapfHVqTMoglTMt5BlWVY3gpuQbNWPNgsupxBBtlcfqPVhMO0lBkXZgM69hq-Sx7CoXNQqrOl0Zf6alY_vwVys7g-wuNKXJWkcWe8gwnGoW1XXwd7TVIni-HCwFtsDX8OU/s200/reachingout.jpg" width="77" border="0" /></a>*so today's living may just become tomorrow's foundation in which you might develop a stronger community with those you come in contact* </div></div></div></div>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6701193174111243475.post-67397871931842601812007-10-24T11:48:00.000-05:002008-12-11T00:10:20.383-06:00Smile Emo Kids<div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124969460272583794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 198px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 52px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="163" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpXPsQXnpPH5IpcwYY9vQMP3m1JzdrTGB8Ft0x-mT2MKjrfNf5Fs993P4igA-KAGbIQZgbamAgL0gAPS_duuBmq-QLGgvmmiJwWcRmvooZD3x_mX1RPTS6J5xgsZpJDfSBkj__-bvSJaI/s320/emokids.bmp" width="231" border="0" />when asked why he did it the youth simply stated "because i felt like it!" * feelings * emotions * desires * questioning a young girl today, i asked, "what do you like to do when you're not in school?" "it depends," she said "it depends on whatever i feel like doing at that moment." * feelings in the moment* one boy stated, "i feel sometimes that i really like girls, at other times i wonder if i'm gay." *wondering about what to feel* typical to a young culture today is the emo revolution -- some say it has played through its season -- dead? i would say hardly* alive and maturing is this movement of emotional feelers* </div><div><br /><div>in hobbies young people move from activity to activity barely spending enough time to develop a liking for one thing* "i didn't feel it was the right thing for me"* socially they fight and make up, fight and makeup, fight and... "they didn't respect my feelings"* they don't allow role models to speak correction and guidance into their lives because they choose someone who is distant (i.e. Poe, Manson, Kant, a dead grand, etc) *"they understand what I am going through - not my parents" most emo kids will hold at least five different jobs before finding the right one, and even when they find that one it will be a tough fit* "i feel this is the one...but maybe not" *constant change * differing expressions* making it through today* </div></div><div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124972243411391618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 152px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px" height="139" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66jQy1l4rFSo32jLIx5aiq-z2xZZmVgzcCyAkJ7G67mVcXGB7LyYIDYe4rcTBTW-6Skzaak4s-b-QBIJAEMDD5k_c-66hle2Z0v27uUzrXqyNyr7ys9cAIcik77F58AzfFtpsXMiTypE/s200/emopic.jpg" width="160" border="0" />it's not healthy for those in authority to ignore, overlook, turnaway, or criticize this unique culture in our generation* i hear "oh, this behavior is just a phase - it's not real - it will pass." "Why don't you grow up and act like a normal human being?" * i respond to this: maybe it is a phase, maybe emo's will grow out of this pattern of behavior -- maybe they won't * emo kids have a place* they have a purpose in our society -- reaching emo kids takes a little extra effort* connecting with them simply requires innovation and creativity:</div><br /><div>*Commitment* Emo kids are eclectic and sometime ecentric* commitment is learned through patient guidance and positive feedback recognizing effectiveness of effort -- recognize success -- accept feelings toward the activity --</div><br /><div>*Healthy mentoring* Emo kids will "listen" to us if we "listen" to them. Acceptance is an exchange. Authorities must realize that prioritizing the battles they fight for these kids is of crucial importance -- don't embrace bad choices BUT DO (and show) love (to) the kid --</div><br /><div>*Invest in emotions* discuss* encourage* spend time [crucial]* speak into emotions --</div><br /><div>meet emo kids where they are* understand their differences* make the effort to reach and teach* what a great assest to our future society -- how will you determine how they will use what they have to offer?</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125014304026121378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 315px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 52px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="63" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwm_zmqUebgWIpmjLgmXl4FsZBcxIIU4Lai44VYOEDycTuh3SxYMCySRFglFcrtZ-9pN752JXv1j7Js0btnpKGAY8BrBLp3_x0qbTrnsudAw1k6dhhS7sCmtYUzGC11iPhJTgnRaZoYR4/s400/emobanner.jpg" width="342" border="0" /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div></div></div>Jody Harlowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02390045290441704570noreply@blogger.com0