and in local news....

Recently, one of the small towns that make up my community has come under attack. Why? Supposedly, it is because of “Religion”. I feel however that it is because of a misunderstanding and a choice.

See, supposedly someone was offended by a nativity scene decoration on the lawn of “the square”, which is the place right in the middle of the town where the court house and other government buildings are located.

I think however there is a big misunderstanding though. Some people want to believe that when others talk about Jesus or God that they are trying to change someone’s mind. I know they are wrong.

To illustrate I’ll just make it a bit more personal since to me, it is very personal.

When I write personal pieces, comments on social websites, when I speak to crowds or in normal everyday conversations, anyone who has read or heard what I have to say will not that I often mention God, or Jesus, or The Holy Spirit, or the fact that I’m blessed or something of that nature.

Most people who know me realize that I am not proselytizing, making an “argument” for Christianity, or trying to persuade anyone. When I talk about Jesus, my personal Savior and Lord I am mentioning my love, my friend, the most important thing in my life.  Think about it, when you begin a relationship with anyone, you talk about them- a lot. When you meet someone you hold in high esteem, you also mention that you have met them, that you know them, the name comes up in conversation, a lot. I think that is why I talk about Jesus, God, so much. While I have known Him intimately for several years now, (since October 27, 1993) I fall in love with Him afresh every day; a lot like I do with my husband, but even more so.

Every morning when I wake up I’m amazed at all the wonders that God has made available to us. Personally, I remember every morning that my life wasn’t always so blessed and I thank God because I know He is the difference. I thank God that I have a home because I have been homeless and that I have food because I have known hungry. I thank God that can feel love because I see and hear hate all over when I watch the news, or turn on the computer, listen to the radio, or even sometimes just go to Wal Mart. I knew rage and pain and abuse at one time and now my life is filled with peace and hope and goodness. You better believe when I wake in the mornings I thank God for this life and lest you think my life is idyllic or I’m some sort of Pollyanna, think again. I know personally the ravages of living in this world and I make a choice, every day, not to pursue pain and meanness and hate.

I make a choice and my choice is Jesus.

I don’t condemn anyone who doesn’t make that choice and it isn’t fair that anyone should demand that I change mine. This is where the nativity comes in; that scene is a celebration to me. When we have a baby we send out announcements, we call people, we give silly candy cigars to everyone we meet, even strangers. They don’t have to take them but we do because we are happy, proud, celebratory, over this blessed event in our lives. Every time I see that decoration on the lawn in the square in Athens I am reminded of the celebration of the birth of one very dear to me. I don’t get upset because there are Santa decorations, or little elves or gnomes. I don’t celebrate these things but it doesn’t bother me that others do. So why does it bother others so much that I celebrate the way I, and so many others have chosen to?

I believe I know why. I believe that because they have chosen not to believe in God, or Jesus, they think we, those who do believe, are trying to change their minds. Well, I’d like to send a message to anyone who doesn’t believe in God or Jesus, ready? RELAX. No one is trying to change your mind. We are not trying to make you celebrate anything you don’t want to but it is wrong for you to “demand” that I not celebrate something so dear to me.

And since the Constitution was brought into this local matter, The Constitutional declaration that separates “church and state” was included so that no government would be able to force any citizen to practice a particular faith choice.

The local government ALLOWS citizens to erect the decorations, it does NOT REQUIRE that they do.

That same Constitution, that by the way I hold very dear to my heart as well, says that I have the right to free speech too, just as we all do, and to the pursuit of happiness. There you have it. Jesus makes me happy. He makes a lot of us in this area happy, and we have every right to demonstrate that happiness by erecting decorations that display that happiness anywhere it is lawful.

Since no laws were broken, and the local government didn’t force anyone to erect those decorations, it seems this was just all a big misunderstanding over choice.

So now we can all go back to decking the halls. Merry Christmas, oh and Happy Holidays if you don’t celebrate Christmas.

Getting Social

For the past year I have been working hard to build my writing portfolio beyond the comfortable and into the profitable. Over these past months I have learned this one lesson above all others: the more I learn about social networking, the less I feel I know!

I have learned that Word Press is another name for FRUSTRATING!, and that designing a website is way harder than it looks no matter how "user friendly" the "anyone can do it" advertising says it is.

I have also learned that it is okay, even imperative at times to ask questions. And I have learned that I despite all my fears and frustrations, I am capable of so much more than I thought.

"I can do ALL things through Christ who gives me strength" has become my mantra on some days. Knowing I don't have to "go it alone" makes all the difference.

I'm thankful for all the lessons this year. I made some writing goals in January and to my great delight and the cheers of faithful friends, family, and fans, I have met them, and even exceeded some.

So, while this whole "social networking" thing is still confusing to me sometimes (I am sooooo happy that I don't have a web cam!!), I know I will eventually figure it out. Maybe that will be next year's goal?

Until next time,

Peace

Pain

I am in pain. I have Fibromyalgia. I have been in pain for 13+ years. For the first few years we chased a diagnosis. I went to doctor after doctor and all they could tell me was that I was a "puzzle", an "enigma", and it was "all in my head". Only it wasn't all in my head. In fact, it was usually everywhere except my head as ironically, it began as migraines but I had very few headaches after the first year.

Symptoms came and went but the aches and swelling and fatigue stayed- they always stay.

I do have good days, but for the most part, I am in pain.

After a while, pain changes you. Once, I was an energetic, smart, easy going, capable, strong, and kind mom.

Now, I feel like none of those things.

After all these years, the only thing I have found is that I have an underlying auto-immune disease, nothing stops the pain, and I'm not nearly as adept at hiding things as I once thought I was.

I'm praying still for peace, and the strength to be alla the things I was before, again.

I refuse to lose hope, however, on days like today, it doesn't seem likely anytime soon. Today, I'm frustrated, and ,
in pain.

Standing

Standing

Silenced No More

I've written since I can remember. When I was a child it wasn't safe to speak, at least it felt that way. Now that I'm old, I realize it may not have been this way but it felt this way and sometimes the dangers were very real as I learned from experience. Because of this, I spoke on paper. I wrote to have a voice and I wrote a lot. I never published though, until my mom died. Oh, she was a cheerleader of mine and often encouraged me to write, but i let the ghosts of my past haunt me into silence. After my mom died, I did begin to consider publishing, if only because my mortality had been brought fully into view, and I felt compelled to share the things I'd so long held inside. But I was still afraid. After some applaud of my work I became even more afraid. "What if I write something really good and it is published and one of the monsters from my past sees it and finds me?" Sounds like the wondering of a child, but the truth is part of me never grew past a certain place because she remained hidden in fear. I continued to publish and be published in spite of the fear and one day, I penned this poem in response to that fear. I don't know what has compelled me to share it today, but I hope someone is blessed by it, and maybe is able to look their monsters and ghosts in the eyes and say NO MORE!!!!

Silent NO MORE

you could tie my hands and feet

but you could not tie me down inside

I found a place there to hide

even you could not find

the words and music washed over me like anointing oil

and I was free

your fist could gag me into silence

and your stares could stop me in my tracks

but when I opened my notebooks

you could not silence me there

and I erased your stares with the words and music

that washed me clean like The Blood of The Lamb

for so long you were the ghost that haunted my dreams

and the skeleton in my closet

but now my pen throws open the windows of my soul

and your dry bones are as dust

billowing out of me like words and music in a notebook from long ago

and I am free

and I am strong

and I am silent no more

by Andora Henson/ October 2, 2007

The Masks I Wear... written 3 years ago and saved as a draft, still relevant today.

I began this blog in an attempt to take off my masks and encourage others to do the same. I believe I have failed. I couldn't even keep mine off, so what kind of encourager am I?

Well, I guess that I am a great encourager to others. Man, I can cheer you on all day long. But when it comes to myself- I let me down without a wink and a smile. I find that even on my worst days, I tend to keep my commitments to others- taking, doing, going, etcetera. But if I've made a commitment to me- well, everything else comes first and I give in to pain, fatigue, emotions and just dang near anything.

See, this is why I wear the masks. This is ugly stuff. I show my best self when I'm around others and I'm telling off on myself here. It's not like I lie to everyone, I just hide i guess. And I'm afraid. I'm afraid of being rejected, of being mean, of showing too much and looking stupid. And sometimes, it is just easier to put the masks back on so I can hide for a while. It is easier- but is it best? I don't think so.

What I want, even now in this funk that I've found myself in- is to be an authentic, spirit filled, God honoring Christian and powerful woman who makes good decisions, good plans, and follows through on them.

But all the while, I hear the whisper in my head saying, screaming, IS that even possible? That is who I want to be, but frankly, I don't think I've ever seen a person in this life who is able to be that person 24/7/365. Is it just too hard? Am i fooling myself in trying? I want to "get back on that horse and try again" but frankly, I'm wearing out. I feel like such a failure because i can't seem to make a change and keep at it.

So what is the answer? IS there an answer to this dilemma? Is this singular to me? God I wish I knew and had the courage, the wisdom, and the stamina to make the changes I need to make to be the woman I want to be.

I guess until I figure it all out I will have to keep the masks handy and pray that it doesn't crack from over use.

peace-

Reality? TV

Really? This is what we have come to? Some of the current programming on television has become, well, trash. I was all for reality television in the beginning. It was interesting to see the dynamics of a group of people who didn't know one another stuck in a house for a summer. I couldn't believe some of the antics, but people are different so I just chalked it up to poor decision making and moved on. Most of the people seemed genuinely engaging and I enjoyed watching how they interacted. Big Brother, the first show of this genre, (that I am aware of anyway) opened a whole can of worms though didn't it?

Now we have people ready to do all sorts of craziness for their 15 minutes of fame. I don't understand it. I worry for the young people who are now spending their time swearing and drinking and "hooking up", on camera no less. I wonder if they realize that one day they will be older, have responsibilities, and want to forget some of these crazy things they have done. Only, unlike those of us who are older than cell phones with cameras, they won't be able to because all of their poor choices will have been documented.

And are any of the programs even real "reality"? I mean, do wives in Orange County or New Jersey really behave that way? Do young women really join "bad girls clubs"? For years women's libbers have been screaming about Playboy and Penthouse and other such magazines defiling and degrading women. Is this any less degrading? I think not. Most of these shows have some female element behaving badly and calling it good programming. That, in my own humble opinion, degrades us far more than nude photos. Not that I'm a fan of those either. How can society as a whole have a genuine respect for American women when these are the images of them that are available?

I guess where there is demand, there will be supply. Could it really be as simple as that? And could we ever go back? Now that this particular cat is out of the proverbial bag, can we ever get it back in? Will we, as a society ever come back to morals and family strength and hopeful programming? Gosh I hope so.

Procrastination, thou art a foul fellow!

Okay, so I have done every little thing I can possibly do to procrastinate…. now I have to get to work.

The thing is I love writing, so why do I put it off so diligently? I enjoy the process of putting my thoughts into words, on paper. I enjoy sharing the things I write with others, at least most of the time. So why do I put writing off till my head is about to explode and my soul aches to let go? I wish I knew. Maybe, just maybe I would stop doing it.

Of course, my desk, which is loaded with post-its, filing that needs put away, and various other clutter calls me a liar on that point. Maybe, just maybe I’m a procrastinator of many things and not just writing. But I understand why the desk is messy- I get into a project, work on it, take notes, then get called away to help with a homeschool project or issue and work on that for a while but just before I’m finished I have to help with a 4H thing, or some other thing and before you know it, my desk is a roadmap of works in progress and only I know the destinations. My husband absolutely hates coming in my office. It is very small to begin with and the clutter is just suffocating to him. And to me. And to my creativity!

So, here is the question I find myself faced with at this particular moment…

Do I stop writing to clean my office/desk, or do I keep at the writing till I’m either finished for the day or called away by a child in need of tutelage? Hmmmm, I think I may have just identified one of my problems.

See, this is why I love writing. Discovery is in the process. I love writing, I love the process, and I love the discovery.

I think I will keep writing today, and give myself a break. The mess will be there when I’m finished, history proves that.

Happy writing and peace to you all-

TheWritingMommy

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

Insert Primal Scream here please and you will understand how i have felt today. Actually, for over a year now my lovely tween daughter has had the power to cause these screams at a moments notice.

When did i give my power away? Why? I don't know. It just sort of crept up on me one day i think. Or maybe, like the frog who is placed in a pan of water and doesn't notice he is being slowly boiled, i have become so accustomed to dealing with the puberty driven chaos that i didn't notice that the heat had been turned up and suddenly, it seems like life or death.

I wonder if the frog ever jumps out of the boiling water before he becomes dinner? Hmmmm, i think more research is needed.

Meanwhile, i will keep praying. For our relationship mostly because i really worry that we won't have one by the time this child grows up. I mean, not a great one like i would want for us. I never want us to be one of those mom/daughter pairs who only call on birthdays or major holidays, and then grudgingly. I never had that sort of thing with my mom, and i never wanted to have that with my own children. When i was mad at my mom, i told her. She didn't always like it, but at least we were honest about it. When she was mad at me, she told me. Usually, we were both rather loud about it too, but we always loved each other, even when we didn't particularly like one another. And that was rare. I think it was rare. Or maybe, just maybe, like the painful memories of childbirth, God allows us to eventually forget those angry words and heated moments? I hope so.

I love this kid. She will be a great lawyer, politician, or other paid arguer one day. Until then, i wish she wouldn't practice so much on me. (you may insert weak smile here...)

Peace to all you mamas. and to you children too. May god bless and keep you all-