The Taboo I am Willing to Talk About

There is a topic that is constantly discussed on radio and TV talk shows. The topic has strong supporters and opposers. I will drop a few hints for you:  it is a topic that affects 1 in 4 women IN  THE  CHURCH.  In the United States alone it has involved 1.37 million in a year. Hitler’s horrific impact actually pales in comparison to the results of this topic.

I am sure you have guessed the subject by now.   Abortion.

Here is the thought I have been pondering. As wide spread and as loud as people seem to get about this issue, why is it not talked about.   Did that just sound like a complete contradiction? Let me explain. Politically, people will take a stand. Groups of people have no problem getting together with their signs to protest one way or the other. Churches will preach their belief  on the topic. But when it comes to one on one interaction with these groups, people all of a sudden have something else to do. Why is that?

We live in a time that people seem to be in such a hurry. Maybe it has always been that way, I don’t know. What I do know is that people seem to be afraid to look each other in the eye. What do you think the basis of that fear is? Are we afraid people will tell us the truth if we provide a safe place for them to open up? Are we concerned that we won’t be equipped to handle the things they tell us? Are we afraid that person will have to be another one we cross off our friend’s list because they don’t quite measure up to those with whom we choose to associate? On the other hand, why don’t we volunteer information and let people really get to know us? Why don’t we look people in the eye? Are we worried about judgment and rejection?  Are we naïve to think we are the only ones to experience certain things? Are we afraid we might have something to offer and it will take us too far out of our comfort zone?

Abortion is a touchy subject, no doubt. However, it is one that needs to be discussed. We have young women in our schools and our churches that are finding themselves in difficult circumstances and don’t have anywhere to turn. Statistics show that 74% of women who choose abortion state that it is for social reasons, namely they feel it will interfere with school or work.  These women/girls do not have a support system willing to come alongside them.  We have women in our churches that are hiding their secret, afraid of being judged. They may go for years, living in torment because they feel there is nowhere safe to turn.

We have to start truly ‘seeing’ people. If we could find the combination to the safe behind the eyes of people, we could enter a dimension that nobody has ever visited. Countless people (men and women) are hurting, entangled in the chains of their past and are aching to be set free. You could be the one to help them!  Are you willing to step out of your comfort zone and open up about this topic? If you know somebody who has been involved in this decision, are you willing to extend love to them and help them heal? If you are one who has made this decision, are you willing to break your silence and save lives?!

I am going to be doing a series of blogs discussing the physical, emotional and spiritual consequences of abortion. Many lives are lost due to this act, but many minds are forever tormented following this decision. Please invite people to this site or send them to the following links. Thank you for wanting to make an impact! 

http://www.amazon.com/Secrets-Behind-Eyes-JoEllen-Claypool-ebook/dp/B00FD65ZTM/

https://www.facebook.com/TheSecretsBehindTheEyes?ref=hl

Soul Sale: A Rude Awakening

It has been a while since I blogged and this is a bit of a different topic for me, however I think it is still fitting under my "Making the Most of Every Opportunity" heading.   I am about to tell you about a book I just finished reading entitled Soul Sale: A Rude Awakening  by Americus Dotter.  This is exactly what this author is doing is making of the most of every opportunity to tell people about her experience, heartache and consequences of becoming involved in ovum donation.

When I first read an interview that she participated in, I was immediately intrigued by the topic. It was something I had never really thought a lot about.   This woman, however, will have the rest of her life to think about it and the thoughts are not pleasant. 

Beginning this process with the purest of intentions, Amy Dotter had experienced the beautiful miracle of having a child of her own.   When she realized how many people were not able to conceive, she wanted to give that gift to them.   She was able to get connected with people that helped with the infertility procedures.   She went into this process not even realizing that there would be a compensation fee given to her. Maybe her first red flag should have been the fact that the woman she was working with explained to her that it was compensation for pain and suffering.

"Young women are lured into the ovum donation experience with the promise of helping to create life; not to contribute to stem cell research," the author explains. Yes, you read it correctly.   Amy was directed to go to different facilities to donate, including Yale University. She did get a red flag from that incident when she found out that, after an extremely painful procedure, they harvested 30 eggs from one session! She didn't know how they could possibly use that many eggs. She soon found out that many of her eggs had been used for stem cell research.   That was not her heart, that was not her choice. She wanted to bring joy into the lives of childless couples and now she was faced with the questions of wondering at what point were the eggs used? Did they have a soul? Where did they go? And why was she not informed? Why was she not given a clear explanation and then a choice?

All of this torment was amplified by the long term effects of the injections she was required to take during the donation period. They had created a severe hormone imbalance causing her to slip into a psychosis that she battles to this day.  In and out of facilities due to her episodes and when at home having the feeling that she could not be real for fear that her medication intake would be questioned and it may mean another trip to the hospital caused Amy to wear a mask constantly giving only answers that she knew would be accepted and not critiqued in any way. 

One review stated that this book was disturbing and unsettling. Well, there's real life for you.   There is no doubt about the spiritual battle this woman experienced in the facilities she was confined to. She was plagued with nightmares and horrid hallucinations. Through it all though she was able to find God, the One that has been able to make her situation tolerable and the One Who has given her the strength to tell her story and come against opposition regarding the "false hope" of embryonic stem cell research.

My heart broke for this woman over and over as I read her book. I was amazed at the fact that through all of this pain and suffering she was not tempted to sue anybody involved.   Her heart at this point is only to make people aware of the things that go on behind the scenes. Some of these procedures did result in children being born, a couple of them being open donations so that she is able to watch these children grow. However, the many that were not properly handled are the ones that will forever haunt her.  You can read her interview at this link:  http://www.eggsploitation.com/story-adotter.htm and can find her book on Amazon at http://www.amazon.com/Soul-Sale-Awakening-Americus-Dotter-ebook/dp/B009191A32/

Chillax!

Why are we always in such a hurry?  What does it really benefit us?  We need to learn to slooooowwww down and chillax a bit. I personally learned that there are a whole lot more benefits to that.  

I am married to my complete opposite. My husband goes by the philosophy that if you are not early, you're late.  I tend to wait til the last minute for anything, thinking I am utilizing every minute up until the time to leave but always seem to run behind and have to play catch up.   I have always felt bad because it seems that I am constantly telling my kids, "Hurry up we're late."   I try to catch myself but am not always successful.

One day I was near tears because I had waited too long before taking the kids to their sports practice. On the way out the door I remembered I had forgotten to make our lunches so ran back in and was frantically doing that. My youngest son calmly came up to me and said, "You're a good mom."  That was all I needed to help me breathe that day.  I realized that I wasn't invisible and he acknowledged the things I was doing. We were late but we got there safely. My boys are usually who have to pay for my lateness. They would have to pay for my lateness with pushups at their karate class. I felt terrible.  

I then went to a women's retreat and the speaker said we can be addicted to many things.  We can even be addicted to hurriedness. That's where I was at!  I decided to begin a self implemented hurriedness recovery program. 

It worked!!  I started making sure that first thing in the morning all of my stuff was prepared and ready for me to walk out the door when the time came. This meant that I was able to leave even on schedule and not have to run back for ten forgotten items.   I have always had to make lists or nothing would get done.   All of a sudden I realized I was not having to depend on my list.   I was able to think clearer.  It was amazing! I was calmer inside. In fact I calmly got inside my car one day and easily organized my things. My youngest asked me, "How ya feelin' Mama?"

"I am mellow like jallelo," I said softly. "I am really loving this new thing I'm doing. I think I'm cured." 

So there really are benefits to slowing down. It will help your relationships, your schedule and your sanity. Enjoy your life , don't hurry through it!

I have something to say

I am really enjoying doing this blog. It gives me a chance to play around with different attitudes and a variety of topics. I have had a hard time getting the hang of some social media sites.  I love Facebook and can jot some things down although I know if it gets too long people won't read it. I have managed, however, to keep most things short and to the point.

Twitter is a ridiculous option for me; 140 characters including spaces?! Are they kidding me? I am a writer. I can't limit anything to 140 characters. I have had to use it because one person I kept in contact with was only on Twitter. But when I would have something to say to her, I would have to use up three personal tweets to get the full message to her! 

There are days that I don't have time to sit down and write in any new project I am doing (because once I get going, there is no stopping me and then I am there for three hours or more). So blogging has been the perfect little daily exercise for my mind and writing. It makes me feel that I still had some 'me time' getting to do something I love and that I had an accomplished day.

So there, my day is complete. Hope your day was too!

Where is my Ginkgo Biloba?

I call baloney on the article that told me that doing crossword puzzles would improve my memory since it is a mind-exercising activity.   I have invested much money into the games magazines, doing word searches, crosswords, pencil pointers (my favorite).  I look ridiculous at night because instead of using a reading lamp, I attach a headlamp to my head so that I can do my puzzles til all hours of the night without waking my husband.   My children have mocked my silly appearance, but I am exercising my brain and it is worth looking a little funny if it means my memory will be spot on.

My mom used to tease me for always having a crossword book in my hands. I said, "Mock away, but when I'm old and snuggled into my nice warm bed, don't come crying to me when you are out wandering the streets not being able to remember where your house is because you never exercised your brain."

Well it hasn't worked at all! My husband knows that when I leave the house to go to town that I will come back into the house no less than three times to retrieve things I forgot.  Routine has me coming back once for my phone, once for my purse, once for keys and then extra times if I am to bring other things to town with me, like my children.  No, actually, it is my children whose memories I borrow.   Also, they have learned to try to ask me before we walk out the door, "Mom, do you have your phone? Keys? Purse?"  My husband used to laugh at me out loud. Now he just smiles and doesn't say a word.

There are many other things I am beginning to forget. I think many times I am just afraid I will forget so I will repeat myself. Yesterday, I asked my son if he had his cell phone. My husband said, "Do you realize that you have asked that same thing three times now?"  I get so frustrated with myself.

The one thing that drives me insane is that I lose things constantly. I could be sitting in the chair with a pen in my hand, and before I know it I have lost the pen. My husband refuses to even loan me his pens anymore.  In fact, I've taken so many of his pens and then lost them that every holiday I get him a new pack of pens.

Stealing pens has proved to be embarrassing for me at one point.  I was at the church with one of the girls from youth group and she picked up a pen off the pastor's desk and said, "Well, this is interesting.  On the side of this pen it says 'This pen has been stolen from A Plus Awards'." Busted. A stolen pen on the pastor's desk. I started laughing and said, "I probably stole it when I went in and asked for a donation for the Relay for Life!"  Oh brother.  

So, I completely disagree with the statement that crosswords improve your memory.  I will continue to do them because I enjoy them but I will not become dependent on them.  Utilize this information and hide your pens when I come near.  Have a great week!

Have a Cup of Jo

Good morning! Pull up a chair and have a cup of Jo(e) with me.  Have you found that a pot of coffee tastes better when it is shared with a friend? Why is that?  I think part of it is that it is probably the one point in our day that we are relaxed. We can just sit and enjoy a conversation with a friend.  We can laugh, we can cry and just be us.

What gets us to that point of friendship though? It is a process. I have to admit, I am a bit of a recluse. I have always struggled with being shy from the time I was little. As I grew, it didn't get any better. In fact, I would have rather crossed the street if I saw somebody walking up the sidewalk towards me for fear I would have to look up and say 'hi'. People scared me to death.

I remember a comedian back in the day (the 80's were 'my day') said that "it is the quiet girls you have to be careful around because they have skeletons in their closets. The reason they are quiet is because they are afraid if they speak, one of those bones may come up and choke them in the throat." Maybe. We all have our stories, that is for sure! My husband told me one day, "Honey, you need to get a friend outside of the church."  My response was, "And how am I supposed to do that? I homeschool and I go to church. That's it!" 

So reader, you are my friend. Oh, of course I have friends, in the church and outside but life just gets so busy for all of us that it is hard to personally connect in today's world. It's not easy to make friends. We have to take risks by tearing down any walls we may have and let them into our world. We need to learn to look people in the eye and realize that they may have walls built up as well. We need to learn to trust each other. I truly believe there is a reason why each person crosses our paths. We can learn something from them but you may also have something they need: a kind word, a healing touch, a listening ear.  Make the most of every opportunity! Build those relationships! Invite your friend over for a cup of Joe!

Have a blessed day!

Whatcha Thinkin'?

We all probably understand at this point how much different a woman's mind is from a man's. Men are said to be waffles and they compartmentalize their thoughts. They think only about what is inside the ONE box they are in at that time.  Women on the other hand are said to be like plates of spaghetti. Their thought process is such that they have to touch each noodle that is on that plate.

My husband asked me one day, "Whatcha thinkin'?"  I am reminded of the first episode I watched of the sitcom, Titus, in which it was flashing back to when Christopher Titus was a small boy and he was heading towards a light socket and was going to put something in it. His mother is frantic but Papa Titus is sitting calmly in his chair, saying, "No, no. Let him do it. He will only do it once." The kid gets zapped and learns his lesson. Sort of the same thing that happened when my husband asked me "Whatcha thinkin'?" I touched every piece of spaghetti on my plate to answer that one question. Hmmm. Yep. The kid got zapped and lesson learned. 

That's okay. I made the same mistake and was just as disappointed.  We were watching TV one night and I snuggled up next to my husband, hoping he would notice my new perfume and comment on it.  "Whatcha thinkin'," I asked flirtatiously.  He looked at me with his deep blue eyes. "I'm thinking about the show on TV," he said as if that were a silly question.  He was in the TV box and that was all he could think about at that time. 

Although it was hard for us to understand each other that way, we have been able to get used to it. My husband very hesitantly asked me one day the question again. "Whatcha thinkin'?" I could almost see him wince. I didn't overwhelm him with information this time. I gave a very simple answer and  I smiled and said, "Was that so hard?"

On the other hand, I have studied and learned my husband also. As we were following a slow moving vehicle the other day, I noticed how quiet he was. I wondered what he was thinking and reasoned that he was probably cursing the car in front of us since that was what was in "his box" at the time. However, I questioned myself because normally he would voice that frustration out loud. I wanted to test my theory and asked, "Whatcha thinkin'?"   His answer was spot on, "I'm wondering why this car is going so slow!" We chuckled as I told him my thought process in that moment and I pondered how we were able to make our vast thinking differences work without it causing major conflict every time.

The moral(?) of the story I guess would be:  Waffles and spaghetti can go well together as long as they are seasoned correctly. 

Enjoy your day!