Category: authenticity

Just Breathe

Deana3 Comments

He (sic My father) used to hold his breath and pass out on the streets of Tokyo where his parents were Presbyterian Missionaries. I think he was a little angry: Held breath is the ultimate withholding; you’re not taking anything in, you’re not putting anything out. – Anne Lamott, Plan B Futher Thoughts on Faith.

Has it really come to this?

Freud will have a field day.

I’m having a field day.

Every year I pray and meditate and choose a new word, or scripture verse or phrase for the coming year. After two weeks of semi-fasting from the internet, prayer, retreat, and journaling THE word that resounds in my deepest of spirit for 2012 is “Breathe.”

It’s not that I’m disappointed really , okay maybe a little, it’s just that most years my phrases have been, well I’ll just say it, more encouraging than something as simple as “breathe.”

Here is an example of what I mean:

  • 2003 when I just began working in a church -– Deuteronomy 31:6 (NIV) “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”
  • 2004 (Isaiah 41:9) – “I took you from the ends of the earth, from its farthest corners I called you. I said, ‘You are my servant’: I have chosen you and have not rejected you.
  • 2005 – My word was forgiveness and letting go. It was truthfully a year spent grieving the loss of friends through death and learning how to forgive others. It was a dark night of the soul kind of year for me. I deleted all my writings and former blogs and got about the busy work of recovering from severe depression.
  • 2006 – “Baptize me, oh Lord, to the criticism of man, that I might one day become immune to it.” – Beth Moore
  • 2007 – Hebrews 10:35-36 – “So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded, you need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what He has promised.”
  • 2008 – Romans 31-39 – “in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
  • January 1, 2009 – Ephesians 3:17-19. “I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge – that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” – that was a year of exploring what it meant to LIVE with Intention. A year of celebration. It was also the year that I started doing stand up comedy and intentionally studying and growing my gifts/abilities as a speaker.
  • 2010 –  “Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls.” – I spent a year studying ancient liturgy under the auspices of a local pastor and reading authors such as St Augustine.
  • 2011 – Live with Intention which for me translated to Love/Laughter Inspiration Volunteering Encouragement/excercise. – okay notsomuch on the exercise thing, but the rest – I totally nailed that.
  • 2012 – I get one word. Breathe.

 I’m not really amused. My ego wants something grander or more grand whichever than breathe. I want something that will make people stand on their heads and listen to me as if I were EF Hutton himself. “Breathe.” feels so bourgeois really. So ordinary. I’m an artist and a poet, I don’t want to be ordinary I want to be captivating. Shooting a loving smile at my artsy fartsy neurotically insecure yet comical self – Grown up me responds – Yeah well suck it up baby girl — you get to be real this year. Welcome to planet earth. – Grown up me can be a real downer sometimes can’t she?

When I think about it though, it’s actually pretty deep. Held breath IS the ultimate withholding just like Anne writes. I can’t help but wonder, how often do you or I forget to breathe in the moments of life? I hold my breath a lot. Beauty can capture my breath, so can anger and fear. All last week I dreamt nightly of people trying to hug me and my holding my breath. I would write it off as just a silly little dream (or three) but then last night someone I hadn’t seen in a few years grabbed me in a spontaneous hug and — you guessed it – I held my breath until they let go.

I really forgotten how to breathe. No wonder my gut is a mess and my shoulders are in my ears. I will have you know that this doesn’t come as some great and welcomed epiphany. This self-knowledge comes to me with bits and spurts of denial and a great deal of fighting back. While I know how I feel about this new word that landed in my heart, I’m not sure what to think yet – and so I simply offer some thoughts by some of my favorite poets on this whole “breathe” business.

To one who has been long in city pent,
‘Tis very sweet to look into the fair
And open face of heaven, – to breathe a prayer
Full in the smile of the blue firmament.
~John Keats, Sonnet XIV

He lives most life whoever breathes most air.  ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

You know that our breathing is the inhaling and exhaling of air.  The organ that serves for this is the lungs that lie round the heart, so that the air passing through them thereby envelops the heart.  Thus breathing is a natural way to the heart.  And so, having collected your mind within you, lead it into the channel of breathing through which air reaches the heart and, together with this inhaled air, force your mind to descend into the heart and to remain there.  ~Nicephorus the Solitary

 Now — tell me, how was your Christmas? What did you do? Did you have a good New Years? Do you make resolutions or do you pick words or phrases for the year? Please drop a comment and let me know. Thanks.

This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart. All rights reserved. January 1, 2012. No goods or services were given in exchange for quoting Anne Lamott — I just totally dig her vibe as an author – thought you might too. — and yes son, I really used the words “dig’ and “Vibe” in a blog post. HA!

I’m Not Hard-Core; I just want to Live.

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Three frogs are sitting on a log when one decides to jump off.

How many are left?

Three.

One only DECIDED to jump.

Deciding to do something and actually following through are not the same thing.

I decided to get in better shape in 2009 because of this story – Beaten By A Stroke: A True Story and even bought myself an automatic shift five speed.

While the bike was pretty, it is also difficult to ride. I peddle like crazy to get it to shift and as soon as I coast down a hill it shifts back to first gear and I have to start all over again. I rode my new bike a sum total of six times before hanging it up in the garage. As a result, I’ve lost and gained the same 20 pounds because I didn’t follow-up my deciding to do better with real action.

Now that’s not to say I didn’t try to do better.

I tried C-Fit.

I tried Zumba.

I tried walking.

I tried the couch to 5K thing.

I even tried riding my bike with a group.

I wasn’t the best and I quit.

I was inspired but nothing more.

I got sick in 2010 and wound up in the hospital and even had surgery. Again, I’m inspired to do better in this area of my life, but I don’t follow through.  I even read Fully Alive in 2010 – by the same author who now is not only riding his bike, he’s racing it. The dude is 62 at this point.

Another friend, whom I also met in 2009 has completed the Iron Man competition, not once, but twice since then.

I’m no longer inspired, I’m embarrassed.

I’m 46.

I have learned something very valuable.

Inspiration without perspiration is fantasy.

It isn’t enough to keep my sense of wonder, to be inspired, or stirred and do nothing with it. True inspiration births action.

To be fair, I’ve taken a great deal of action in other areas of my life. I’m out there performing comedy when I can, acting in movies, volunteering, and even taking writing classes. I’m feeding my brain and my heart but not my body. I’ve over come many fears and it wasn’t until today when I was riding Prince that I realized I have some physical fears to face.

I’m afraid of falling.

I’m afraid of getting hurt, which is ridiculous when I consider that I used to compete in Tai Chi and Shaolin. I got hurt all the time. While it’s true I do have a slight disability with my ankle being permanently messed up now, however, that shouldn’t be stopping me.

I’ve been riding horses since February. I’m now at the point where we can gallop for longer durations and are working barrels. Today, the speed scared me. My eyes were on the ground more than they were on the obstacle ahead. Because of that we couldn’t get good speed.

It’s the same with my bike.

I purchased a Giant Brand bicycle from a locally owned shop in Tulsa and it is much faster than my older one.

The speed scares me.

I’ve fallen off more than once and I stopped riding it for two weeks.

It wasn’t until I was racing Prince today, that I realized what was wrong.

I’m looking at the wrong thing.

I’m allowing my fear of pain, not the actual pain, just the fear of it, to keep me from fully committing.

I fixed that today and rode again. It was 33 degrees and sunny.

The wind hurt my cheeks. I froze my tukus off, and my legs hurt.

But I did it.

And I didn’t fall.

I shared on Twitter that I’m riding today and someone asked if I was hardcore or had a conspirator.

I gave him a smart-alack answer at first. “I spent $1,000 on a new bike and my husband made me promise to ride it every day.” — Later I told him the truth, someone inspired me and if he can do it, so can I.

Here’s the deal. I don’t want to be sitting here another year from now, weighing the same as I do today, reading how someone else I know won a triathlon or a marathon while I allow fear to keep me trapped.

So here is my challenge to you:

I promise to face this fear every day, fulling committing to  following through on Ken’s inspiration in my life. What action are you willing to take today that follows through on a decision you made? I’m not asking you to change your life, I’m asking you to name one action or one fear – and face it with me today.  Will you do that? When you do, I want you to pay this forward and be that inspiration for someone else.

Ready. On your mark. Set. Go!

This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart. All rights reserved and all that jazz.

Voice: Who Speaks For You?

Deana3 Comments
Photo from istock.

You can’t find your voice if you only let others speak for you.

I love the photo from istock. The person in the middle standing out in red with their arms in the air seems so freeing. A visual “ME! I’m here!” in a sea of beige. It speaks to me and so does the quote about letting others speak for me. I think I’ve spent most of my life handing off personal power and pieces of my identity for peace.

I’m only on week two of my voice studies and my brain is already overflowing with Ah Ha moments and inspiration. The assignments have been relatively simple really and yet scary at the same time. I have an Associates Degree while everyone else appears to have a Masters in Lit or higher – heck yes I’m comparing. It scares me.

It’s no coincidence that I would find a writers voice class in the same season that I am questioning my own beliefs about life in general and wondering whose voice really transfers over. Is it my voice people hear or is my version of someone’s expectations? Since I don’t know the answer, I believe that is a question worth exploring.

My journaling goes beyond the lessons these days as I look at why I choose certain phrases and where opinions come from. Am I being rebellious? Am I being afraid? Am I being a parrot? or Am I being me?

Writing has become enjoyable again.  They don’t know me. There are no expectations of specific character and behavior. I have the freedom and permission to try on voices like a teenager tries on clothes. There’s no box to fit into.

This class is as freeing as the day I learned how to do stand up — granted I hope and pray writing produces better results.  Or maybe the fruit that seed planted *is* growing. Maybe stand-up is just another part of the path of finding myself again. Once I learned how to tell jokes on stage – kill or die trying – other things (like going back to being a Democrat) don’t seem nearly as formidable. I’m eyeball deep in Republicans, trust me when I say that changing back is a bit formidable. Other questions do arise however:

  • Just because I’m a Christian does that mean I *have* to talk about God all the time?
  • Can I have opinions that are left of center rather than right?
  • Can I talk about something else like how hard being middle-aged is sometimes?
  • Can I talk about love or nature or even sex.
  • Can I talk about the really sexy artist/poet that makes me melt?
  • I’m a Mom but do I have to talk about my kids?

Can I swear?

Anne Lamott does.

I remember the first time I read Traveling Mercies and I saw the F-word. It knocked my sensibilities right out of my socks and caused me to double-check the jacket. Yep, she’s a Christian.  My eyes lit up, I giggled and looked around wondering if anyone had heard what I just read. Then something magical happened, my soul settled deep into my reading chair and by the end of the book – I wanted dreadlocks too.

Wanting them and actually getting them are not the same thing. Trying them on for size? Totally worth it.  I just didn’t know how I was going to do that. I finally had my chance while on a cruise with some new artist friends and had my hair braided on the beach in Costa Maya last Spring. They lasted all of 12 hours. Dreadlocks  aren’t me after all — the wires kept poking me. I finally sat straight up in bed at 2 in the morning and spent two hours taking them out.

I don’t have to copy someone’s look or voice or opinion to fit in. And if I do then they aren’t my tribe.

I don’t have to be Anne Lamott or ee cummings or CS Lewis to be a writer. I don’t have to live off of someone else’s faith to be a Christian either.  I just have to be wholly me whatever that entails.

This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart. October 26, 2011. All rights reserved.

Put Some Tigger in Your Step

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I want to be a (Fill in the blank) _____________________________ (in my circle these days the blank is usually comic, but anything can go here)

what is the best advice you can give me?

My advice? Cheesy as it may sound, Be More Like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh.

  1. Be one of a Kind.  – Find whatever it is that makes you uniquely you and bring it with everything you have.
  2. Be a real Friend. – He may have gotten on their nerves a time or two, but in the end they celebrated friendships together. Don’t let petty squabbles, busy schedules or misunderstandings get in the way of friendship.
  3. Be willing to try new things. – Tiggers definitely don’t like honey, but he did at least try.  Who knows by trying new things, you may surprise yourself by finding new things you do like.
  4. Be able to Bounce. – The ability to bounce, whether it be forward, backward, up, down or just bouncing back is vital in this life. There will be obstacles to bounce over, disappointments to bounce back from, and goals that may require some bounce to reach.
And most importantly I leave you with this thought, it’s not what you do for a living that matters, it’s what you do for a life.
Live it with bounce.
This post written by Deana O’Hara, for Redemption’s Heart, August 14, 2011. All rights reserved.

To Make It Real

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In order to better see where I’m going, I find it helpful to remember where I’ve been. January has been such a month of remembering for me. I’m always in awe at God’s merciful grace during a rather graceless season in my life; a season where I came THIS close to throwing it all in and calling it a day. –

I can remember feeling hopelessly alone and forsaken of God. I felt disillusioned, disgusted, and disappointed in everything – only to find out that my hope had been placed not on the one who tore the curtain (Matthew 27:51), but rather the ones who hide behind them. I had learned far too much, far to quickly and as disheartened as I was by that, I was even more heartbroken to realize that I myself am no better. I looked great on the outside, but inside hid the bones of dead men.

The bones were those of the church. They belonged to the men (pastors) who would not let me join their churches when I was a child. It was in their denial of my requests that I built my walls of protection and sought to prove them wrong. In my anger and hurt, I’d built an altar in my heart to their approval. Every time the bones screamed out for attention and healing, I poured on a salve of sweetness and honey hoping to silence them.

Those bones rattled with a deafening noise that manifested itself in physical shaking and panic attacks. I suffered for years with pastor-phobia – especially if they were dressed all in black. As time went on, rather than face the bones and seek God’s healing hand, I found myself becoming disgusted by the very men I was terrified of and yet I continued on with my painted on smile and false kindness. I erroneously believed that it was these men that held the life blood of my salvation and when discovering that those that had disapproved of me all those years ago, lived no better lives than I, the holes in my heart filled with rage and the bones began to shake.

I had become a liar. You can’t really love or serve people you are afraid of, no matter how hard you try. I wanted to believe I was a nice person, full of mercy, love, kindness and grace but I had grown to hate the very people I felt called to serve. The paradox was killing me. The day finally came when I could not contain my pent-up rage and rather than be honest in it, I blew up on a sweet bystander.

It was then that I knew that I needed help.

Up until that point, I thought my motives to be pure and of God. I was a little off on that perception. It was really heartbreaking for me to discover that I hadn’t jumped into ministry to serve God, I’d gotten into ministry out of my own selfish need. I needed to belong. I needed to prove “them” wrong. To me, the little girl no church would allow to join, being a paid staff member in a church was like winning the lottery. I’m in! — Take that you hypocrites.

Never once did it occur to me that this was an issue of my heart and never theirs. Live as they may, rightfully or wrongfully; full of Grace or full of bones themselves, they are neither my problem nor my cure.

God silenced me for two years after I blew up in that church office. In that silence, he gave me music. In that music he taught me how to pray. In those two years he also gave me new friends, and a new hope in Him. A hope that doesn’t rely on anyones approval but his.

While I am no longer a paid church worker, I am today pursuing His will for my life and his heart in my soul. Once I opened the door to my internal tombs for his healing touch, I’ve found that he’s opened doors I never dreamed possible.

I’ve held several funerals for those bones over the years, and I’m sure there will be more. In the meantime, I’d like to share one of the people and the songs that pulled me through. — While my breakdown occurred in 2004, I actually had discovered The Gaithers back in the 90’s and fell in love with Mark Lowry. I’ve never met him and yet when the time was right – God used his voice (among many others) to speak to my heart.

This particular song was actually written by one of Bill Gaither’s daughter’s. It say’s a lot. Enjoy.

“I’ve seen a lot of crazy things done in your name. I know the tricks behind the magic show.  I’ve almost thrown the towel in a time or two and walked away from everything I know….”

It is the Silliest Things Really.

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Have you ever had days where you just feel touched by God? I don’t have them often, but when the creator of the universe wants to touch me – he does it with such flourish that I cannot help but know he see me. I’ll give you an example. I like to spend time in my gardens, watching butterflies and birds make their way. I’ve come to appreciate the beauty of Oklahoma since moving here 18 years ago. The sky just goes on forever and most days I can see a hawk or an eagle if I’m lucky. The clouds are large and white and look like cotton candy just waiting for me to reach out and touch them.

I feel closest to God when I’m in my gardens. It’s there that I spend most of my time talking to him. I was having a particularly rough go at it one day and was spending a large amount of time just pouring my heart out. Feeling that I was being sucked down into a negative state of mind, I decided to start thanking him for the blessings in my life. I rattled off my family, my friends, the birds and wildlife in my yard. As I looked up to comment on the beauty of the sky I talked about how much I love the expanse, and the clouds. Except that one cloud God, that one looks like a monster’s head, I said and I shivered.

Without warning, the clouds began to shift and the monster head disappeared and became something that looked like a lamb. In a state of total shock I asked out loud, “Is that you God?” and again the clouds shifted and revealed a hand.

Show off.

I giggled for days.

When the creator of the universe wants to dazzle me, he makes it intimate, and he does it with subtle flourish. Why not? He is an artist after all.

I have times and seasons where I really do wonder if I’m doing the right thing, on the right path, or if I’m even seen. I’m really not one of those women who is content to stay behind the scenes and work unnoticed all of the time. Not that every day should be my own private Oscar celebration, but still – sometimes I need to see small snippets; some kind of reassurance that I’m heading in the right direction. Don’t we all?

If you cannot relate to that statement, please let me come check your pulse. Everyone needs those small moments of acknowledgment or thanks at least once in a while and if you don’t – well then I believe you might be lying to me or even to yourself. That or you’ve bought into the lie that not needing affirmation is a sign of strength. It isn’t. It’s a sign of self-reliance and tells me you’ve isolated yourself to such a point that your relationships are dried out. And maybe your own spirit as well. No one is an island. Whether we are capable of admitting it or not, we need each other.

I’ve been second guessing myself lately. This whole going back on stage, learning stand up and improv, auditioning for movies and plays and commercials, and interviewing agents is a scary deal. I’m not a kid anymore. I find the irony of officially joining SAG at 46 years of age both funny and frightening. I’m a mother now, shouldn’t I be doing something more respectable? I caught myself making a plan B. Well if this doesn’t work out, I could always go back to school and become a nurse.

Where does that thought come from? Is it fear? Self Reliance?  The desire or need to hang on to an assured ending?  That’s why I remembered Second City not that long ago. I did the same thing to myself when I was 22. Remember? I chose the safety of a data room and guaranteed income over my dreams. I did the same thing when Ringling Brothers came to town. I had a chance to audtion and I chickened out.

Not that I was wrong to do that, after all I met my husband that year, but still Plan B doesn’t get me where I want. Plan B is always about safety, lack of risk and is loaded with fear based choices. Plan B doesn’t come close to leading me into being the woman I always wanted to be; Fearless, strong, interdependent, and full of purpose.

I did what I’ve learned to do which is pray and ask God for direction or okay a sign maybe. I can’t tell you what he did, I’d be a little embarrassed actually if you knew. But he did something so closely tied to SC that I cannot help but know that I’m seen and yes, I’m on the right path.

You might say he moved the clouds that were distorting my vision and revealed again the endless sky of possibility.

And you guessed it, I’ve been giggling for days.

 2011 is a new year, ripe with possibility for all of us.

While we have the gift of life, it seems to me the only tragedy is to allow part of us to die – whether it is our spirit, our creativity or our glorious uniqueness. Gilda Radner

Putting Kindness to the Test

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one day you finally knew what you had to do,

and began.

though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice,

though the whole house began to tremble

and you felt the old tug at your ankles,

 “mend my life!” – each voice cried,

but you didn’t stop you knew what you had to do.

though the wind pried with its stiff finger at the very foundations,

though their melancholy was terrible,

it was already late enough and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen branches & stones.

 but little by little as you left their voices behind

the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds.

 and there was a new voice which you suddenly recognized as your own

and that kept you company as you strode deeper into the world,

determined to do the only thing you could do,

determined to save the only life you could save. – mary oliver

I love Mary Oliver, her voice is expectant and hopeful.

Where 2010 brought sickness, rest, and healing, 2011 is bringing many new things into light. I cannot mend another’s life, I can only tend to my own. Knowing that has been far more healing these past few days than I expected.

One of the things I am tending to is rather than leave you with half-finished stories and incomplete thoughts, I’ve decided to cut back on how often I post. I didn’t give you my best last year, and I’ve decided that 2011 is no year for table scraps for anyone.

A funny thing happened today while I was sitting here writing. I opened my eyes to look at the piled up things of stuff surrounding me. The Christmas tree boxes, decorations, scraps of paper, and empty boxes waiting to be filled. I’m surrounded in the chaos that comes with having two homes and not fully letting go of a holiday. Everything is in transition, either waiting to be taken to the lake house or to be put away or thrown out and I’m smack in the middle of unfinished business.

I was considering leaving it all for another day while I continue to find ways to mend that which isn’t my own and a voice whispered in my spirit – “Is this really how you treat my home?”

You would have thought my husband said that, but he didn’t. He’s kindly and gently side-stepped this now visual image of how cluttered I’ve allowed my insides to become. Most men would be apoplectic by now.  I had to stop and really think – is this how I treat someone I love? He’s even-tempered, kind to a point that I don’t always understand – and trust me when I tell you he is the nicer of the two of us. I’m putting that kindness to the test, taking it for granted when he really doesn’t deserve that.

So, having said that – I have two homes to put in order and won’t be here as often as I was. I hope you understand.

Behold, I make all things new

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2011 has already been off to a wonderful start. We began by celebrating a 50th birthday with friends on Friday and on Sunday we celebrated another friend’s 50th wedding anniversary. It’s a year of Jubilee — what a gift. Leviticus 25 proclaims the 50th year as a year of holiness and rest.

Three things jump out at me when I read this chapter of Leviticus. The Bible speaks of the Year of Jubilee as  a year of  redemption of things lost or sold because of poverty. It also speaks of kindness to others and freedom from bondage.

These are three great thoughts as we face the new year together.

Some things to think about:

1. REDEMPTION: What things, ideas, values, et all have we sold off over the years because of our own spiritual poverty? Relationships, truth/honesty, health, self-respect? How can we return to those right, meet, and salutary things this year. How can God help us restore those broken places?

2. KINDNESS: Can you think of a way to extend kindness to others this year? It doesn’t have to be complicated. It can be a smile, a warm hello, or maybe even volunteering at a soup kitchen once a month. – what random act of kindness can you share?

3. FREEDOM: In this passage, we are talking about bond servants or slaves who are set free — is there anything holding you back from experiencing all that God has in store for you? Are there places of bondage that you need to be released from? Is there forgiveness, hurt, anger, or fears that you are hanging onto? Now would be a good time to let go of those things. Can you write out a prayer asking God help to break those chains?

Let us make this a Jubilee Year all the way around and celebrate the gifts of God.

We Are Not Consumed

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“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” ~ Lamentations 3:22-23

I’ve seen that scripture verse no less than ten times in three days. It’s popping up everywhere — and maybe for good reason. It’s loaded with promise not only for me, but for my friends who are hurting, and for everyone else.

It’s easy to feel consumed by:

Expectations – both of ourselves and of others. It doesn’t matter if these expectations are realistic or not. They weigh on us.

Responsibilities: For family, job, ministry, life. We carry heavy burdens of responsibility and sometimes think we have to carry it alone.

Fear – Of the unknown, the future, the past catching up with us.

Guilt or Shame: Hidden sin or secrets.

Grief: — Hurts over the loss of a loved one. The death of a marriage. The pain of hurt feelings from a friend.

Anger: – Whether righteous anger or anger caused by hurts, misunderstandings, or unmet needs.

The list can go on, but all of us can can feel consumed by many things. The great thing about this promise is that God’s love for us keeps that from happening. His compassion for us, even in the face of the loss of compassion in ourselves or from others, never fails us.

Every day is a new day for hope, for strength, for healing, and forgiveness. And the best part, it doesn’t matter if that day starts at 5:00 am, or at 3:30 in the afternoon. We get to start our days over whenever we need to.

Maybe you need a restart today. If so, why not take a minute and say a prayer.

Am I Jaded or Compassionate? I’m Not Always Sure

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I’m sorry, but the post you are looking for is no longer here.  Please note that I write most of my posts 1 – 2 weeks in advance and schedule them for future publication. While this particular post dealt with my own eating issues and abuse of over the counter diet pills, as well as revelations I’ve received from my present Bible Study, I’m afraid that it published on the cusp of another very important announcement. The two have nothing to do with eachother, but out of respect for a friend and a family grieving, I’m taking my post down.

Please pray for those you mentor as well as those who mentor others. I’ve heard it said that the minute we step into public ministry, Satan points a loaded gun at the backs of our heads. That is so true. May God fill you to overflowing with his Grace, his Mercy and His Peace.

Thank you for reading my blog.

Blessings

Deana