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Hi there! If you are well, I am three times happy. Got an extra intense blog for ya today. Rated see. So lean back and enjoy the read.

From the invisible headquarters of H.B.I.D. (Human Bad Ideas Division), the Director briefs two of his prime operatives. Himself nor his operatives have a physical body. They all are invisible non physical agents sworn to cause problems within the human race.

The Director and the two agents with him are invisible to each other, but everyone in the room can sense exactly where everyone else is in the room.

The director of H.B.I.D. grins while speaking to the two agents.

“Agent Secret and Agent Affair, I’ve known both you guys for a jillion years now. You’re two of my very best agents,” the Director says, his grin stretching into a smile. “I want you two to handle a very important assignment for me, if you choose to accept it.”

“You know us Director.  We’re always up for any job you assign to us,” agent Secret says confidently. “Glad to hear that agent Secret. I knew I could count on you and agent Affair to get a job done for me. So here’s the deal.  I need you two to come up with a perfect plan for having an extra-marital affair, so that there’s zero risk of a person ever getting caught.  Can you guys handle that?”

     “No problem boss.  Affair and I will get the job done for you.”  The Director’ thought as much. “Glad to hear it gentlemen.  Well, I’ll just leave you to your task. But let me know the minute you have a plan ready to go. I’ll call a quick briefing session for all of our agents, and we’ll make Operation Perfect Affair one of the most successful marriage destroying plans of all time.”  “You got it Director,” both agents say together. “Good. You agents are dismissed.”

    On the way to the planning center, Affair leads off a conversation. “Secret, I don’t know. Do you think we can really pull this thing off?”  If Secret’s face were visible, it would be showing an annoyed expression. “Affair, you know me.  Have I ever not pulled off an assignment?”  “Yeah, sorry Secret.  I guess I forgot I was talking to H.B.I.D’s master of the marital break up. So let’s get down to business.  What ideas do you have in mind for putting together Project Perfect Affair?” Secret instantly replies.

“Okay, let’s take a look at the usual problems that an affair-artist runs into, whenever they decide to become a marital double agent.  For example. Like having to account for where they’ve been, or accounting for the time they spend away from home. This means we gotta come up with a plan so flawless, a spouse trying to have an affair won’t get caught either by accident, or by a miscalculation.”

    Affair’s invisible expression is showing his doubt. “I don’t know Secret. That’s probably going to be an almost impossible problem to get around. A high percentage of affair participants get tripped up by having flaws in their cover story. Flaws that can be easily picked apart when a spouse decides to verify a double agent’s false facts.” 

Secret invisibly nods. “Yeah, I know.  You got any suggestions Affair?” Affair instantly answers. “Well, okay.  How about this?  Say that a guy wants to meet up with his under cover other, someplace at about nineteen hundred hours.”  “Never mind the military time,” Secret instructs.  “No problem.  Seven pm.  Now all the affair double agent has to do is tell their spouse that they’re going someplace where there’s lots of people around who wouldn’t know them from any other stranger in a crowd.”  “So what are you saying specifically? Like a basketball game, or a baseball game?” Secret asks suspiciously.  “And what if the spouse wants to know who their marriage partner is going to the ballgame with?”

     Affair makes a snorting noise. “Are you kidding me? That’s easy.  They could say something like they were going with a group of new hires from work.  That way there would be no phone calls to a known co-worker to blow up their cover.”  “Not bad Affair.  Not bad. But here’s where your idea goes up in smoke,” Secret points out. “What if a spouse calls their double agent spouse while they’re supposed to be at the game, and the double agent decides not to answer? …Or even better. They answer without thinking, forgetting about the fact that there’s no crowd noises in the background.” 

     “Good point Secret.  …Didn’t think of those possibilities. Sigh.  I guess we’re going to have to have a few thousand back up plans to handle all of the what if situations, huh? So what do you say we come back to these particular problems a little bit later?”  “Fine with me Affair.  What do you say we tackle something a little easier?”  “Like what, Secret?”  “Like cell phone management.”  “Good idea,” Affair agrees.  “You better know it is.  Because a boat load of affair enthusiasts get caught because of bad cell phone management. Things like un-deleted texts, undeleted phone numbers, and undeleted emails.”  “You said it Secret.  So what you thinking?”

     “I’m thinking that an affair operative could use a second cell phone.  Not one hooked up to a major wireless company of course. But the kind of cell phone you can pay your service bill in cash,” Secret explains. “Hey yeah!  That sounds like a real winner Secret. But uh…  I just thought of something .”  “Like what Affair?”  “Like, what would happen if a double agent got their phones mixed up.  Or accidently leaves their burner phone at home.  Or…”  Secret immediately saw the problem and cut his partner off. “Yeah yeah.  I see what you’re getting at.  He or she would almost have to write down a wagon load of reminders, to make sure that they didn’t make any phone mistakes. All it would take is just one mistake of not making sure they turned off their burner phone, or forgetting to put it on vibrate, or it ringing when they thought they had turned it off.”  Affair nods his invisible head. “Exactly.  And I just thought of another thing too, Secret.”  “What’s that Affair?”  “The phone charger.” “The phone charger? What’s the phone charger got to do with anything Affair?” 

     “Think about it a minute Secret. What would happen if our affair operative forgot and left their undercover phone charger plugged up at home where it could be discovered? What would happen?”  Secret knows and agrees. “Yeah.  I’m following you on that.  The unsuspecting spouse might find it and get suspicious as to why a phone charger was sitting in an out-of-the-way location.  Maybe we better come back to the cell phone thing a little later too.  You think?”  “That’s what I’m thinking too, Secret.”

Secret let’s his frustration show. “Alright, then what else can we get started working on?”  Affair answers without hesitation. “Lies maybe?” Secret invisibly dances around with excitement. “That’s right Affair! That should have been first on our list. You can’t have an affair without being a really fast liar!”  Affair nods invisibly. “I thought you would say that, Secret.  So let’s just take a look at how lies can be improved to where they are just as solid as the truth.”

     For a second, Secret was angry that his face was invisible. He wished that Affair could just take one look at it, so that it would tell his partner what he was thinking. But he settled for getting his point across with words. “Whoa Affair. A lie as solid as the truth? Think about that for a second. Most affair participants get into trouble because they don’t keep an exact record of what lie they told to cover up their affair activities. …Or keep up with every detail of every lie they had to tell after that, to help cover up the first one.”  Affair couldn’t show it, so he said it. “No. I disagree Secret. ” 

     “I think that a lie can almost be as solid as the truth if you get other people to help make your lie as true as possible. …Meaning, getting people to lie for you, about where you’ve been, or who you’ve been spending time with.” Affair said all this very firmly. “You know, Affair…  You’re right!  I never thought of that.  Let me just memorize that.  We can definitely use this information to make project Perfect Affair a thousand percent more successful.”  “But wait a minute Affair.  I just thought of a few risk connected with people lying on behalf of a marital double agent.”  “Oh?” Affair inquired.

     “Yeah.  Like will they keep a double agent’s secret secret no matter what, or be willing to lie and continue to lie for that double agent almost indefinitely? And we also have to take into account that a marriage double agent’s lie network might all fall apart the very second his buddies can’t keep straight what lies they have told on behalf of their double agent friend.”  Secret let the conversation go to silence. But it wasn’t three seconds before Affair had something to say.

“I see what you’re saying Secret.  Aaaaand, I see other problems we’re going to have making Project Perfect Affair successful.”  “Okay.  I’m sure I won’t like hearing about it, but let’s have it anyway.  What?” A more frustrated Secret asks .  Affair sighs. “Okay. Let me just count off a few for you.”  “You’ve got a list? That’s just wonderful. Go on,” Secret invites. “Yeah. I got a list.  So listen up. We haven’t tackled the subject of what happens if a double agent, or their outside marriage partner, falls in love.”

Secret sucks in a long breath and lets it out. He thought about it for a couple of time beats before saying, “Falling in love. Yup. That could put the whole project Perfect Affair underwater for sure.  Cause once someone gets emotionally attached, they might want to go public with the news.  Or threaten to break the secret if they don’t get what they want out of their affair partner. Or might break the secret out of anger, jealousy, or revenge.”  “That’s true, Secret. Like in that movie Fatal Attraction with Michael Douglas and Glen Close.”  “That’s a real old movie.  But you’re right. It could end up just like that.  …An affair partner terrorizing a whole family, because an affair partner denied them what they wanted.” Secret slowly nods his invisible head in agreement.

Thinking that it was getting late, Affair decides to speed things up a bit. 

    “Hey. Let me hurry things up. My list isn’t that long but we don’t want to be here for eternity.” “Fine with me,” Secret says. “Good. There’s the problem of cologne and perfume scents getting on a double agents clothes, the risk of going to places that have security cameras, or just plain getting spotted by people who know you.  And then there’s trust issues.”   “What trust issues Affair?  I’ve always believed that affairs are built on a basic discretion, and basic trust.”  Affair invisibly rolls his eyes at Secret. “Oh are they?  Okay, what if an affair partner has a secret affair partner?” “Uh… Affair…  I want to officially withdraw my stupid question and my stupid statement.”  “No biggy Secret.  Now let me hit you with the hottest topic on my trip list.”  “What’s that Affair?”  “Guilt.” “Oh yeah! How could I not remember that?!” Secret hollers, but then smiles.

    “Hey, let’s not be so gloomy partner,” Secret encourages. “We might not come up with a plan for the perfect affair today, but somebody out there might figure it out. And whenever they do, all we have to do is steal their plan.”

*********

     Stop and think about an affair for a minute, and what it really offers. Is it worth the cost of destroying a marriage and family life? Is it possible to keep it on the down low, with hopes of never getting caught?

Now me? I’m too big a chicken to experiment with finding out. My IQ is not genius level and I suck at gambling. So…

No, seriously. I will fight for my marriage just like I would fight for my own life. God expects me to. My life with my wife is worth fighting for.

Thanks for stopping by for a read. And may God bless you so well that you know it’s Him.  

    

   

Aloha mahalo nui for stopping by! Aloha mahalo nui? I only know these three words in Hawaiian. I better switch back to the language I’m better at. Aloha mahalo nui means hello and thank you big time. I can’t get enough of Google-ing things I don’t know.

I hope that you are doing better than okay today. I’m going to limber up my typing fingers and grab the bull by his ankles. I got a goody for ya. And it rhymes with the word commotion. So hi ho blogger, awaaaaay!!!

Does anybody know about emotions? Hey, right here dude! I got my hand up. Okay, I can see that. But let’s give a reader a chance to answer first, okay? But I can answer the question. Yeah but nobody asked you to answer the question. That’s not true! I just heard you say anybody. Okay, I did say anybody. But you’re not the anybody I was talking to. You are the guy that writes the Write Teller dot com blog. You’re the blogger, remember? Yeah, I remember. But hey. Wait a minute. Who are you then? Aw c’mon, don’t you recognize me? I’m you. Okay. Let me get this right. YOU are me, and I am me? That’s right. You are you, and I am you. We both have the same name and live in the same body. Now do you get it? Uh… I think I do. All this time I have been talking to myself, right?

Now before anybody, and I do mean anybody not in this room, starts to thinking that my mind is running a little low on gas, let me tell you the reason for my little self talk. It was to get an emotional expression. Laughter to be exact. Laughter is an emotional expression. …Or so it says on one of the major internet search engines.

See, what I did was provide a joke to get an emotional expression going. Hey, go ahead and tell me. I’ll keep it on the down low. Did it work? Nice! With a joke, laughter usually kicks in right near the end, or at the very end of a funny story. If it didn’t happen for you, I probably need to get my keyboard looked at. But don’t worry. I plan on trying another jump start on you later. But let’s get back to emotions.

Emotions can be pretty powerful stuff, right? -Joy, grief, fear, anger, or jealousy, just to name a few. Ever try to control some of your stronger emotions? It can be about as difficult as stacking water.

Just for grins. Let’s put the emotions I mentioned in a bag and pick one at random. Hey, what do you know about that?! We have a winner! It’s fear. Okay. You got me. I rigged the selection process. I feel terrible about it. But you know how it is.

Fear can be a monster emotion for sure! It can compromise our ability to move, think, make decisions, or have faith in God. When fear hits you square in the brain, it can be like trying to wrestle an angry six hundred pound gorilla with your bare hands. Is it humanly possible too overcome this emotion? I mean, without the use of a prescription, or anti-prescription drugs, therapy, or divine help?

From a child’s age to adulthood, the fear monster is lurking around to put us in a panic.

Now I’m no psychologist. Me? …A psychologist? Pleaase! But I can share with you what I know. Fear is something that is not the kind of thing you can control without some kind of help. …Like anger, envy, or arrogant pride, and some others as well. So what’s the solution?

Before I try to answer that question, let me just share with you what I know for sure. Nothing works better than having faith in God’s ability to help us handle whatever is stronger than we are. Or should I say, practicing having faith in God. This works by finding out what we need to practice to help control our emotions, and diligently trusting God to know what He’s talking about when we do find out. The bible is a good place for finding out how to practice controlling our more powerful emotions.

Oh, hey! Here’s a good place for that jump start I was talking about earlier.

You’re outside. It’s nine something in the morning. You’re walking over to your neighbor’s house for something, when you notice a sixty or seventy pound dog in front of you, coming down the street. You didn’t notice him before because you were checking something on your phone.

The dog is staring at you, walking towards you like a leopard on the prowl, showing his teeth and growling like you kicked him. He’s only twenty feet away now, and you don’t have anything near you you can use as a weapon. Hello fear! Hey look. I would really appreciate it if you could please be nice enough to come back later. Now is really not a good time. I got this crazy animal to deal with right now, and I really need to think! But the only thing actually running through your mind is running, screaming, crying, or try to remember about what you read online about the best way to handle a dog attack.

This actually happened to me. -But without the phone, or thoughts about screaming or crying. And my neighbor was standing in his yard behind me.

The dog was close enough to easily catch up to me if I tried to run. I was sure he was about to force me into to making that choice. But my relationship with God helped me with almost all of the fear that was roaring to get my attention. All I had going for me was my faith that God would help me stand up to this bad tempered animal. And funny enough, right then another emotion was working on my mind too. It was the anger I felt towards the dog for his putting me in the position of possibly having to fight or flee for my health.

In the end, I knew that God was close me. I didn’t even have to think about it. I was ready to fight if I had to.

But the dog seemed to want to make our encounter a stand off. He wasn’t backing off and he wasn’t attacking. But after only about 3 or 4 seconds, my temper, and the courage God gave me to act, came together. I yelled at the dog to go away about two times and then took a small step forward. He didn’t budge, but kept on growling. I know, I know. What was I thinking? But let me continue.

I yelled louder for him to leave one final time, and took another small step forward. Now, you can believe what you want, but I say that right then and there that God took me off that dog’s mind. Because the dog turned around and left without exercising his option to hurt me. And I give God all the credit!

I wasn’t as afraid as I could have been. With God being firmly in my life I was able to control my fear emotion. And also, with His help, I was able to keep my anger under control, so that I didn’t let it control me to the point where I got reckless enough to attack the dog.

Like I said before. Some of our emotions are very powerful stuff. The more powerful ones are able to affect our judgment with ease. When we live our lives according to our strongest emotions, we become our own worse enemies.

If you are having trouble handling your strongest emotions, get yourself some help from God or somebody that knows about the side effects of strong emotions, or you can wind up getting handled. You don’t have to take my word for it. But I hear that God can work miracles in this area.

Thank you again for coming by and reading. May God grant you what you need the most.

Hey there! I hope that you are enjoying the kind of health that money isn’t able to buy, or are experiencing health improvement.

Now before I start rip writing like the wind. Yesterday was Memorial Day. So I’d just like to take a moment to pay homage to all the soldiers who sacrificed themselves for things like inalienable rights and duty. With great gratitude, I salute the memory of all these men and women.

Amen and amen. Let us blog on.

Every since men, women, and children have been around, people have been faced with making decisions from day to day. Ya?

Sometimes our decisions are made from a list of multiple choice choices. Remember those multiple choice test back when we were in… Yeah! I thought you hadn’t forgotten. Multiple choice test were the best, don’t you think? Usually the multiple choices were either A B C or D. Multiple choice test helped cut down on the odds of our choosing a wrong answer, a little. We eliminated the choices that didn’t sound right, and cut down the odds even more in our favor. With this kind of multiple choice test you had a one if four chance of deciding on the right choice. But life decisions are a little bit different, ain’t they? Before you say anything, ain’t is dictionary correct. I checked. But I think, I probably should’ve used the word aren’t instead of ain’t. Sigh. Here I am talking about decisions, and here I am in the middle of making a decision that lacks correctness. My apologies. Let me just get my foot out of my mouth. Now where was I? Oh yeah. Life decisions.

What kind of life decisions would be a good question to ask here. Well take for example, what kind of hairstyle to get? …Or what to wear? (Or what kind of words to use.) Or major decisions, like what kind of car to buy, or who’s a stable person to date, or just plain old who can you trust? Oh there are a continent-load of other life decisions we wind up making as we go through life. But here’s the thing. There are very few bad decision do-overs. That is, once you legally commit to a bad decision, and follow through with it, there’s very little chance of shaking off the consequences. Can I get an oh yeah? Really? Cool!

Okay, bad decisions… Usually we don’t realize how bad a bad decision is until we start to feel the power of the consequences. I know! Because I’ve only made one or two bad decisions in my life. WHAT??!!

Hold on! The truth be told… If I were to actually try to sell you this lie, it would bring my total amount of bad decisions up to an even umpity-ump hundred million bad decisions. But I’ve seen the light. I really do try hard to keep down my bad decision count down these days.

Amen! Now in as few words as I can think of, here’s what I think a bad decision is. It’s a decision we make whenever we think we can avoid running into consequences. “Chances are nobody will find out, or there’s a good chance I won’t get into any trouble, or I can always lie my way out of it, or I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” are usually what we’re thinking when we decide to make a bad decision.

Ever wonder just what pushes us into making a bad decision? Any guesses? Making easy money, maybe? Impatience? Anger? Hate? Greed? Wait. Before I run through a couple gigabytes of data, let’s just say that nothing good persuades us into making a bad decision.

Hey. Right quick. Let me type into existence what I think scares us about having to make a major decision. I’m thinking it’s fear. Aw… I knew it! I shouldn’t have given out any clues.

But to be exact though, it’s the fear of making a wrong decision. “Yeah that’s it!” somebody might be saying to themselves. “What in the name of good mental health am I supposed to do when my knees are knocking with fear, every time I have to make a major decision?”

Good questions. My answer? I can think of just two things that will take the fear out of making a wrong decision. That’s faith and research. Having faith that God is, and that He is a rewarder of those that follow His ways. And also having faith that He will create a way for us to know His take is on whatever we’re having trouble deciding.

Where the research comes in? It is in the gathering up of as much reliable information as we can from trustworthy resources. Like people that have had experience with what we’re trying to decide, along with reputable articles and reports. Me personally, from researching in the bible too. Combining all these things will give a clearer perspective. And so, somewhere between God’s willingness to grant us His wisdom, and filling up our minds with solid written information, and the testimonies of people who have lived through what we are having to decide, we gain the courage to decide with confidence.

While I’m here, let me add this little extra understanding about the fear of making a wrong decision.

My mom and dad both lived into their nineties. They both had dementia. I had to make life decisions for both of them. -Like whether or not to choose DNR for them or not. (Do Not Resuscitate/no trying to bring them back to life if they had an organ failure, or a life threatening accident).

I was scared and nervous about making this decision. I didn’t want to make a wrong decision. I was responsible for making decisions they couldn’t make for themselves. So what should I do?

Well, I chose Faith and research. Now I know this going to sound religious, but I prayed to God to help me make this decision. And I also got information from doctors and hospice nurses on the subject.

I also talked to people I knew and trusted about what they would do. And through all the conversations I had about what decision to make, somehow God’s answer came through loud and clear. …In the form of a flash of understanding. Dementia was eating both my parent’s minds away. Their bodies were frail, and they were barely eating or drinking. And miraculously, both of my parents each let me know that they were tired of living. I made the decision with a peaceful mind. DNR, yes. So in the event they had a heart attack, they wouldn’t suffer any life extending medical care, just so that they could continue to suffer more wasting away.

Hey. Some decisions are way too big to handle alone. No tough decision is too small. But before you make a big decision, it doesn’t hurt to get help making it. From people you trust. But most of all, try getting help from the only person who knows everything, past present and future.

Bad decisions pile up consequences. Good decisions pile up peace of mind and favorable results.

Thanks again for reading. Until next read, May God let you know in many ways how much He loves you.

Hey! How’s it going?! Glad you could make it. I’m Blogger, and I’ll be your writer for today. Sit anywhere you like. Today we’re serving a social problem in a blog. And before anybody asks… Sorry, we’re all out of gossip appetizers. Your writer, who will remain nameless, forgot to order some. You know how it is. So let’s blog!

Ever got into an argument before? No, not the kind of an argument where two or more people are willing to, at some point, let Google decide whose facts or opinions are full of spam and whose are not. -But the loud noisy kind, where careless angry words are thrown back and forth faster than the speed of thought, with a kilo-ton of profanity bombs going off in every direction. If you haven’t… Oh you have? No kidding? Hey, would you mind sharing who won the argument?

No no! On second thought, don’t tell me. House riots are very private things. I already know how house riots can go. -Somebody taking a court ordered jail vacation, or somebody taking an emergency hospital tour. But hey, that reminds me. Let me tell you about this one couple I know. Kowabunga! I almost forgot. We’re supposed to be all out of gossip appetizers today. Please don’t tell the website owner I almost goofed. I’d really appreciate it.

Whew. That was close. But let’s get back to prime time.

Now, for the sake of illustrating an argument, let’s build a life sized model of a “He screamed, she screamed” conversation. Uh… Okay. Maybe we better make that two men in a bar.

One guy, we’ll call him Ruff, and the other guy, we’ll call him Tuff. Ruff and Tuff were on their first bottle of beer. They have only been in the bar a good five minutes.

Ruff is six-foot-two, built like a big league linebacker, with short brown hair, a thin moustache, and grayish colored eyes under dark brown eyebrows. He looks like a white guy who just walked off a construction site. -Blue jeans, tan work boots, button-up blue work shirt, and like that.

Tuff is five-foot-eleven. -A truck driver. -Wearing a beat up baseball cap, jeans, cowboy boots, a gray muscle shirt, and a black beard. He is the total picture of a black muscular guy straight out of a 1970’s trucker movie.

They both are sitting next to each other at the bar watching a night football game. They’ve never met before. -Ruff is for one team, and Tuff is for the other. Okay. Now we got our scene all set up for this made for internet drama. So let’s roll the cameras. And… Action!

Ruff looks at the TV screen, takes a swig of his beer, and says to everybody at the bar, “Man, it’s 34 to 3, in the first quarter. If every man on my team were wearing snow skis, they would still be able to beat this bunch of overpaid, chicken legged, football losers.”

Tuff stops looking at the football game, and slowly places his beer bottle on the bar. Then he cranks his head around about at the turning speed of a really old doorknob, to look at Ruff. There is a shining glint of resentment in Tuff’s eyes as he says, “I see you know a lot about what you ain’t seeing. First of all, my team has an eight and oh record this season. Now I need you to keep up with me sports fan. That means they’re undefeated right? And what do you think would be happening to your team if our starting quarterback and three of our best defensive players weren’t injured.” Ruff sets his beer on the bar and loads up his mouth with profanity bombs. Tuff doesn’t stop talking long enough for Ruff to get even one out of his mouth.

“Oh no no no. Nuh uh, Mr. Sports fan. Before you get to slapping your lips together, let’s talk about your team for a minute. Your chicken biting team has one win and seven loses. Okay, now you can tell me all about how your team invented the losing streak.”

Ruff stands up slow. “Who do you think you are talking to home boy? First of all, Sports fan, your team draws the most penalties and the most fines in all professional football. Second of all, you need to think about watching your big mouth.”

Let’s put this rumble in the making on hold for a second. I know I know. I’m a fun stop-cop. But let’s look at what’s happening between Ruff and Tuff.

An argument is lit between the two men. This is obvious. But what can an angry argument lead to?

Disrespect challenges people to go on offense. If someone feels like they have been disrespected, they are likely to want to return that disrespect with equal or bigger disrespect. The matches people use to light the fire of a disrespectful argument are name calling, profanity, and saying things to make a person look like a social disgrace. So when disrespect enters into any argument… Look out! People with bad tempers can take the leash of their tongues in a light speed hurry!

Arguments are fine. An argument is something we take part in when we disagree. But arguments can be real trouble for us, when we argue with our anger and pride lit up like a roaring camp fire.

Arguments should always be handled with care. Respect and kindness keeps an argument from becoming a road rage incident.

But let me just type this in right quick. When an argument gets to where it’s too personal, or nobody wants to agree… It’s not worth arguing over. Try to let it go.

Winning an argument ain’t the easiest thing to do in the world. Winning a point in a discussion, with the facts, is.

So glad you stopped by for a read. May God give you what you need to get through every day.

     Hi there!  If you’re here, I’m so glad that you are!  And why would I be happy that you’re here?  That sounds like a cross examination question doesn’t it? But never mind. I’m happy you are well enough to be here, and because I get to share a revelation with you. So while my mind is shaking and baking, let’s blog.

Is enough enough? Good question.

     Enough is a simple enough word.  One of those words that’s not spelled like it’s spoken. But it is a good word to holler when you’re all out of patience.

Enough is the greatest one word I can think of that defines complete satisfaction.  Hey! I’m going to write that down.  Nah.  Just kidding.  So let’s have a look at this here word enough, and then we’ll know enough. 

Ok.  Say you just received enough money to pay off all your major and minor bills, for the next twenty-five years. -Meaning that all of your property taxes would be paid up for the next twenty-five years, including all of your groceries bills, medical bills, plus all other health care needs, clothing needs, retirement needs, and household appliance repair needs. Included in this deal would be enough money, for the next twenty-five years, to pay for four new cars, in cash, every four years, along with any kind of repairs they may need. And, of course this includes all gas and insurances as well. Alright. Hold on. Let me take a deep breath. ….Okay. Let’s roll.  

In that supply of cash, for the next 25 years, is money enough to be able to eat out five times a week, go to the movies three times a week, go on a twenty thousand dollar vacation three times a year, family and all.  And let’s just throw in a brand new six bedroom six bathroom modernized home every eight years, with new furniture provided every four years, professional style gym equipment, replaced every two years, a 60 foot yacht, replaced every five years, two jet skis, replaced every three years… Hey am I getting close to enough yet???  

     Now I know that I’ve left out a whole bunch of stuff, but if all these things were to be provided for you and your family for the next twenty-five years, would this be near enough? 

Why are you looking up at the ceiling?  If you had that kind of money in your hand right now—a cool two hundred and fifty million; would you say this might be close enough to your idea of enough?  

    Now I’m just guessing, mind you.  But I believe the first thing somebody might say is, “Yeah, it would be enough if…”  IF??? !!!!  Stop the car.  We just hit a two-foot deep pothole.  Because if there is an IF in your answer, what would be enough? 

     I get it though. How can enough ever be enough when a person isn’t so sure what enough is. Now hold that thought.  Let me hurry up and change into my human guinea pig disguise. 

     Give me a seventy-five inch flat screen smart TV, with 4k UHD, 2160p, that has all the other bells and whistles, and man I’m going to get happy feet! Who, me?!  Yup! I’d pop that Hi-tech monster out of it’s box, hook it up, turn it on, and then plop myself down on the couch to enjoy some real fine TV binge watching!  -Like Austin Powers used to says. “Yeah Ba-by!”  Now we’re talking about enough for sure! 

    But wait!  Now check this out.  One good old day, I go over to a friend’s house, and sit down to watch a little pro football on his ninety-eight inch flat screen, techno-monster. Aaand… You guessed it!  Right then and there, enough is going to kind of really start getting on my nerves!  Hey wait. Are you out there snickering at me?  (Insert the teeth grinding sound track here.) Hey that ain’t fair! I got a really good excuse! I’m only human, you know?! And… Okay, whatever!  

    But I know you see why the word enough can be hard to live with.  Having enough, a lot of times, competes with “If I only had a little bit more.”  For example:  Once upon a time, in the land of prime real estate, there was a brand new eight bedroom house with a pool, Pickle Ball court, and a Jacuzzi.  Derek and Monique were walking by it and thought.  “If we could just get this wonderful house, we would never ever want something this expensive ever again.”  Derek and Monique, are you sure about that?

Or how about this…  Jack B. Hip looks into the window of a tanning salon and sees the kind of woman he has always dreamt of.  She reminds him of a Ferrari he had once seen in a showroom—all racy curves and engineered for excitement.  He thinks to himself, “If she would just be my lady, I would never ever want any other woman for the rest of my life.” Are you sure about that Jack?

    Hellooooo!  Here’s a real live news exclusive to think about. Straight from the folks at Channel True News.  Until a person knows what enough really is, and accepts it, they’ll most likely keep looking past whatever enough looks like to get at something more.

     Ever really thought about what enough looks like? 

Well, don’t look at me! Everybody has to answer this question for themselves.  But in my mind, enough is the point where I stop looking for more than enough.

Here’s one example of my having enough. Having a woman who really loves me and cares about me, just as if I were a living piece of her arm.  My wife may be reading this blog today, so… (Enter here the sound track of my head turning slowly to look left and then right.) Aw, let me be serious just for a second. My wife is enough woman for me! 

A few of my other enoughs are just being able to go out and see a movie once in a while.  -Or staying in and streaming a couple of favorite shows or a sporting event. …Or going out to eat maybe once a week, or every other week.  Having my bills paid up. Hanging out at the park on a nice day. Enough for me is also hanging out with family and friends. Or having enough money in the bank to make a needed purchase, or the occasional saved up for purchase. -Like a 98 inch TV Bubbah! Just teasing. It’s too big and expensive for me.

  Don’t get me wrong. There are a few small purchases I’d like to make that are not in the budget. …Like a couple of plane tickets to Virginia to visit some good friends, or taking a few road trips with my wife and kids. -Simple things. But these are only some of my enoughs. Everybody’s are different. -But are they the kind of enoughs that really satisfy, or are they the kind of enoughs that don’t?

If you have God influencing your life, believe me, you’ll know every time you’re standing next to enough.  Thanks for reading.  And may God bless you in the most interesting ways.       

Hi. My accent of choice today is British. I do hope that it translates into the way I’m typing. And I do fancy a hope that you are having a splendid day of good cheer. Okay okay! I’m no Ed Sheeran. Criminy! Try to be a little bit different and… Uh oh… Did I just type that on the screen? Sorry. Sometimes I don’t edit as fast as I type. Any hoo. I really do hope you’re having a great day.

Today I’m going to crank out another short story for you. You look like you could use a little fun. Enjoy!

“I’ll Be Doggone”

Doctor Stanley Emmet stood casually next to his exam table. He is the living photo of a short/slim middle aged balding man, dressed in light blue hospital scrubs, wearing a white lab coat. His light blue eyes sparkle with kindness. With a neighborly tone he says, “Don’t worry Mrs. Gillory. We’ll take really good care of Champ for you. We’ll get his tail bobbed, and he should be ready to go home in just two days.” “Doctor Emmet. I really appreciate hearing that. I heard that you’re the best veterinarian in the city. I wouldn’t trust anybody else but you to clip Champ.” “There’s nothing to worry about Mrs. Gillory. Your Champ is in good hands.”

Mrs. Gillory smiles and bends down to pat Champ on the head before she leaves. She didn’t have to bend very far. Champ was a good size Pit Bull.

Sarah Gillory’s small dear face was crinkled with the lines of a thousand smiles. Most people wouldn’t think that such a smallish plump black woman, would never be the owner of a muscular, seventy pound, fighting dog breed. Outfitted in her pale-blue, knee-length summer dress, her fifteen year old beige sweater, and a pair of old style white sneakers, she looked more like a grandma than the owner of a canine brute. She responded to the doctor.

“Thank you Doctor Emmet.” Then she looks down at her tan colored puppy. “Now Champ you be a good dog and don’t give the Doctor no troubles, you hear me sweetie?” Champ wags his tail and looks deeply into his owner’s eyes.

Since he was ten weeks old, his heart was filled with love for the elder black lady that sang him to sleep at night, gave him his baths, played with him in the backyard, and gave him lots of doggie treats. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and as close as he could come to a grin, he grins at Sarah.

On impulse, he looks over his shoulder at the veterinarian, barks once, then turns his head to look back at Sarah. “Don’t worry Miss Sarah. Me and the doc will get along real good, just as long as he leaves my tail alone.” Champ tells her this with a great big doggie smile.

Sarah Gillory’s face shows surprise. She stands up slowly, clasping her purse tightly. Her eyes lock onto the eyes of Doctor Emmet, and his lock onto hers.

They told him in veterinarian school that no dog could ever master human speech. So he was most certainly stunned! The shock was so big that he couldn’t think of what he should say first.

But in only a few seconds, Sarah smiles apologetically and says, “Doctor Emmet. I had no idea that this rascal, Champ, was going to change his mind before we got here.” She said this with her eyes opened wide with amazement.

With embarrassment plastered all over her face, Sarah takes her eyes away from the doctor, and quickly bends down to attach a leash to Champ’s collar. “Doctor, I’m really so sorry we bothered you.” And in a scolding voice she says to her six month old puppy, “Now Champ, you go ahead and tell Doctor Emmet your sorry, and thank him for seeing us.”

Do you have a Champ at your house? You never know.

I sincerely thank you for reading. And may God bless you in ways that let you know He’s there.

Happy What Day is This!  Glad you could happen to be here! Today I’m going to throw a quick story at you. Got to keep the variety going. Ya? Hopefully my short stories are as much fun as fortune cookies. –A surprise in each one. Enjoy!

On the second floor of the Austerian embassy, two figures move with the stealth and alertness of jungle felines down an unlighted hallway. The two figures are covered from head to toe in black ninja clothing and wearing back packs. If not for their eyes being covered up by sophisticated night vision goggles, their fear of getting caught would show. Walking almost shoulder to shoulder they move towards the office at the end of the hall.

They are not in the Austerian embassy by accident. They are on a mission to steal on behalf of their government. The chances of their succeeding are not as good as their chances of being caught.

Eight paces from the office at the end of the hall, the taller of the two burglars, in the dark, whispers. “Keep it on your mind Stetson, we won’t have much time to get out of this Embassy if we don’t open the safe on the first try.  Okay, we’re here. The office door lock is all yours.” “I’m on it Williams,” Turner Stetson whispers.

Only an inch shorter than his tall partner, but every bit as well muscled, Stetson reaches into the chest pocket on his stealth suit and produces an electronic device. He applies it to the door’s electronic reader and turns it on. Within six seconds both men hear a buzz and a click. Without hesitation Stetson pushes the door open and they both go in.

Stetson closes the door while Desmond Williams walks quickly over to a mini bar. In only seconds Stetson joins him there. Williams is already reaching around to the back of the mini bar feeling for a button he knows is there. Stetson checks his infrared chrono. It is three minutes past midnight. Under his mask, he smiles. They were still good on time.

Williams finds the button he’s looking for in less time than it takes to clap three times. The mini bar immediately sinks into the floor and a light gray safe slides down out of an overhead cabinet to take its place.

The safe has no buttons or a dial. Just a small four inch LCD display screen with the same size speaker underneath. Stetson turns his smile into a frown as he stands studying the safe. Williams notices his partner’s hesitation and prompts him to speak. “Well? You having a coronary or what? Let’s go Stetson. We ain’t got a millennium you know.”

Stetson’s eye goggles lift up from the safe to look at Williams. “Man, this is a newer version of the ZRB51, Voice Command, Sonic Safe.  It has an improvement that’s going to cause us trouble,” Stetson gripes out loud. “A newer ZRB51 huh?” Williams replies semi-calmly.  “Stetson, I swear, those Intel guys are going to be the death of me one of these days,” he whispers fiercely.  But without missing a beat he shrugs his shoulders and says, “We don’t have time to sit here and Google our way out of this mess.  Go ahead and try opening the little pain in the seat cushion, and get ready to run for it.”  “I copy you Williams.  Let me the get my micro recorder out of my back pack. Either this recording of Baron Von Grueden’s voice will open this gadget safe or it won’t. And by the way, those guards we left downstairs with those anesthesia darts in them… They just might be early risers you know.”

    “Roger that Stetson.  But don’t worry, we’ve got more darts. However, tell me again what’s supposed to happen with a voice command safe,” Williams asks, feeling sweat dribble down his back. “Okay, Williams, real quick. We play Von Grueden’s voice, saying that he wants to access the safe, then the safe asks him a prearranged question. We use the micro recorder’s voice synthesizer feature, synthesizing my voice to sound like the exact match of Von Grueden’s to answer it, and wa-la!  The safe door is supposed to whoosh open, like the door at your local supermarket.”

     “So then what’s the hold up?  Play the thing already.  I don’t see a problem,” Williams whispers aggressively.  “The problem, my good co-agent, is that the ZRB series safe usually asks the same question every time you attempt to open it. Which is no problem. I have the verification answer on the micro recorder. But the problem with this latest model is that it asks a legal question for user verification. So you see, I would have to guess the answer,” Stetson informs.

All of a second goes by before Williams says, “Stetson. I see your point.  But man, let’s get with it! We got to open this silly safe!” 

     “Keep your voice down you idiot!” Stetson whispers loud enough to be heard outside the office.  “Williams are you trying to tug on my patience?  You can’t be serious.”  “As serious as a felon trying to avoid the police after he commits a felony, “Williams confirms. 

     “We gotta take a shot at getting the plans Von Grueden has in this safe. Because either we get the plans in this safe, or the Austerian government uses these plans to build a machine that can cause a coast to coast blackout in the US. So let er rip.” Stetson takes a deep breath, lets it out, and nods. “Let’s do it.” He presses the play button on the micro recorder. It whirs to life, and in Baron Von Grueden’s voice it says  VON GRUEDEN, ALPHA 2-1-5-7, DELTA EPSILON.”

     *BARON VON GRUEDEN VOICE MATCH CONFIRMED* the safe announces in a robot voice, and then asks.  *WHAT IS THE STATUE OF LIMITATIONS ON A BURGLARY FELONY IN AUSTERIA? YOU HAVE THIRTY SECONDS TO COMPLY.*  “Stetson!   Why you just standing there with that stupid look on under your mask?!  Man do something!”  “Didn’t I tell you to keep your voice down?  Let me think, let me think!  Uhhh…” Stetson vocalizes.  *Doot! Doot! Doot! Doot…!*  “Stetson, what’s that?  That’s not what I think it is, is it?” Williams asks.  “Yeah, I’m afraid it is.  That’s the count down to our getting locked into this room, if  I don’t come up with the right answer, in Von Grueden’s own voice, before the last doot!”  “Now who’s raising his voice?”  “Will you shut it?!!!!  This ain’t funny, super spy!” Stetson grouches. 

     Williams catches his breath, then says out loud. “Hey Stetson, that music the safe is playing, isn’t that the music from the Jeopardy game show?”  “Yeah it is.  And I just wasted another three seconds listening to you telling me about it.  NOW WILL YOU SHUT UP AND LET ME THINK!”  “Okay, go ahead and think.  But you better come up with something in a hurry.  Anything!  Just don’t expect me to be here for the last doot, ten seconds from now.”  Stetson slaps his partner on the shoulder. “In that case I think we better run for it Williams!” 

Right as both men turn towards the office door, to start running for their lives, Stetson turns to look at the safe, and says, “You stupid safe.”   Out of the micro recorder comes the same words, bringing about an immediate response. The safe opens and says *ACCESS GRANTED* Stetson freezes in his tracks and signals to Williams.

“Pssst.  Hey Williams, hold it.  Come back here a minute will you.  Guess what?”

I’m glad you could stop by today. Thanks for reading. And may God bless you with everything you need.

Getchya fresh wrote blog here! Get it while it’s… Naw lady, we ain’t got none a dat. Yeah I’m talkin ta you. The lady down in front, with her baseball cap on backwards. We ain’t got no eye candy no more. You got the wrong blogger fa sure this time.

Hi. Huh? Oh, the stuff about the eye candy and all? Just remembering the good old days at the ball park. Back in the 1950’s somewhere, when they use to bring the food and drink out to your seat. The eye candy thing is from today’s times. …Just threw that in for a wow factor. …And the accent I was writing in was courtesy of the early day New Yorker.

Got a hot topic today. An ancient oldy but still a good conversation piece. Lock your wheels, cause it’s Weekday Blog Live!

Telling a lie, sets the truth awry, and exposes a liar’s disrepute.  Because after it’s known, a liar’s nose has grown, a liar must fear running into the truth.

And though they wail, they have told no tales, that their lie is really better than the truth. The lie remains, an utter stain, a genuine Red Letter attribute.

So it’s plain to see, without any doubt to be, a lie creates serious disruption.  Please, don’t be fooled, a lie is tooled, to promote deceit and slithery corruption.

I got caught in the middle of a lie once. Ooops! Now that’s twice! Aw man! …Just lied again! Sorry. Sigh… I just did it again, didn’t I? I better quit. I seem to be having trouble telling the truth today. Dang it all! …That’s another lie! I’d like to apologize to everyone. [We are experiencing technical difficulties at this website.] That is it!!! You know what… Sigh. I wish that George Washington were here. The history books say that he stated he could not tell a lie. Good for you George, but I’m no General.

If only telling the truth could cover up a lie, right? Then we would all be in business, wouldn’t you agree? But I guess the truth can never do that. Only a lie can. And they’re are so easy to tell, aren’t they. Right here, let the choir say you are so right.

But like it said in the poem above, once your nose grows like Pinocchio’s, people tend to expect that you are not above substituting the truth with a lie or two, or three, or more.

Tell just one lie and your reputation for honesty gets skunked, and people’s trust in you starts to crumble.

Now what causes a human citizen to lie is… Oh man, will you just look at the time! I’m coming up on blog overload! I better get going before I get boring.

I appreciate you stopping by for a quick read. May God’s peace find you, good health be your mainline, and God’s love fill up all of your life’s calendar days.

My office chair is at room temperature; Check. Blog writer is prepped and ready to rumble; Check. Electric bill is paid up for the month, I think. Now did I pay my internet provider this month? Maybe I should give them a call. Never mind. It can wait. I believe Writeteller.com is ready for a post lift off.

I probably should have Ai write me up some jokes, huh?

Hi! Got a a new post to host. Let me just type it out for you.

What do you think about when you hear or see the word forgiveness? …Anybody?

These days, I’m thinking that it’s a word that doesn’t have a functioning definition. What does not having a functioning definition mean? I’ll be honest with you. This idea of a non-functioning definition just came to me. Forgiveness has been on my mind for a long time now. So this revelation is kind of catching me by surprise. But I think that the revelation information came just at the right time.

First, when you forgive somebody, how do you think it works? I use to think that you just say you forgive a person, and that would be the end of it. All better. All good. So now, let’s be friends. But does it really work that way? Does saying you forgive someone have some kind of magical effect that makes hate and hard feelings disappear?

I’m guessing that most of the time “I forgive you” is code for “I forgive you, BUT..” Forgiveness with a “but” in it is usually forgiveness with conditions. Hard feelings included. Can you read what I’m saying?

Okay. What if a person says “I forgive you,” but after they say it, they still can’t stand to be in the same room as the person they’ve forgiven? Forgiveness? …Or say that they forgive, but won’t pray a word on the forgiven person’s behalf. …Or after a forgiver says that they forgive, can’t look at the forgiven person without unforgiveness still burning in their eyes. I’m no PhD. But this is not the dictionary’s definition of what forgiveness is. I wouldn’t blame anybody if they didn’t take my word for it. Ask Google what he thinks. …She? Google is a guy, right?

Folks, when it comes right down to it, which kind of forgiveness is worth giving or receiving? The kind God gives or the kind that is only on the outside, with no real forgiveness on the inside. But, right quick, let me spread a little starlight on something very important about the kind of forgiveness that is worth giving or receiving. Forgiveness of this kind can only be given if it comes from the kind of love God has for everyone on Earth. It’s the only power I know that can power forgiveness that is given without conditions. …Meaning forgiveness without any hatred, prejudice, false good, or grudges added in. Without God’s kind of love in it, there can never be the dictionary’s definition of forgiveness. God’s love is at the heart of all real forgiveness.

To forgive someone who framed you, for a crime you didn’t commit, would take the power of God’s love, wouldn’t you agree? And not being willing to forgive; wouldn’t that highlight an anti God’s-love kind of power?

Hey. Got to let my keyboard cool off now. Glad you stopped by. Until next blog. Keep a good thought handy.

Hi! Hey. Pull your chair a little closer to the screen you’re reading from. …A little bit closer. …Closer. Okay. Perfect. You didn’t move your chair an inch did you? I was hoping… Never mind. Blogging on.

Going to post a short story today. Enjoy!

Mean Spelling Bee

“Nefarious. N-E-F… Could you use it in a sentence please?” “Of course Miss Spangler. Devon was nefarious for picking things out of his nose in the cafeteria.” “Oh yes. I remember. Thank you. Nefarious. N-E-F-A-R-I-O-U-S. Nefarious.” “That is correct Miss Spangler. Please take your seat.

Henry Waldrop, you’re up next please.”

Eleven year old, Black American, Roddert Harley, with every black hair on his head barbered, black shoes highly shined, and white shirt and navy blue slacks professionally pressed, whispers, “Wow Miss Spangler—I mean Jilly. At first I thought you were going to blow it!” “Me too Roddert. For a minute I couldn’t remember if the word had one F in it or two,” Jilly Spangler whispers back. Her clothes and age matched Roddert’s exactly. Her being a Caucasian girl with dark curly blond hair and dimples were where they differed. “Yeah, me neither. But you got it right Jilly. That’s all that counts,” Roddert said with a friendly smile. Rolling her eyes, Jilly commented, “Yeah. I’m just glad they don’t ask us what these big words mean. It’s tough enough for us sixth graders just to spell them.” “You got that right Jilly.” “Oh. Shhh, Roddert. Merissa Ogglemeyer is up now,” Jilly whispered. “People say she’s the best speller in the whole city.”

“Miss Ogglemeyer, the word is prerequisite.” Merissa, also a Caucasian girl, age 11, was dressed the same as her competitors, but with a superior look on her face, that was scrunched up with disapproval. She flipped some strands of her long brown hair over her shoulder, then folded her arms like a Sargent in the Marine corps.

“Prerequisite? Lady, you’re kidding me right? That word is way too easy for me to spell. I’m not like these Spelling Bee wannabe’s. Give me a harder word to spell.”

The pronouncer adjusted her glasses and stared at the sixth grade rude thing standing on the stage, after which she proceeded to read the girl her rights.

“Uh, excuse me Miss Ogglemeyer. Your assigned word is prerequisite. And you have now only twenty-seven more seconds to spell it, or you will be disqualified. Or is that too easy for you to understand?”

“Okay, okay. I got it. Prerequisite. P-R-E-R-E-Q-U-I-S-I-T-E. Prerequisite.”

“That is correct Miss Ogglemeyer. Now please kindly return to your seat.” Mr. Roddert Harley you’re up next please.”

Going back to her chair, next to Jilly Spangler and Roddert Harley, Merissa Ogglemeyer whispers to them as she takes her seat.

G’day mates! Just trying to perfect me down under accent, hey?. Pretty good, huh? My problem is though, I wrote the words with an American accent. I know, I know. Stick to blogging, right? Yeah. I been meaning to get my sense of humor hammered, but you know how it is. Excuses excuses. Time to write on.

Not being able to see is very devastating. I’ve never experienced real blindness, but I have walked around a while in the house with my eyes closed. I’d just like to say, I couldn’t see not one obstacle, or person, or anything dangerous. I had to move by feel, counting on my hands and feet to be my eyesight.

But now, let me throw in a “What If” atchya. What if I could see, but couldn’t see danger? Would you say then that I had a kind of blindness?

Whoa blogger! What do you mean by “what if you couldn’t see danger?” Now that’s a great question! I was hoping somebody reading this post might want to know just what in the name of Sam Hill I was talking about!

But first, let me just go and see why my neighbor’s barking dog seems to be outside losing its mind. Just kidding. Seriously though, what I mean is, take for instance, if I were walking in the park and there were a venomous snake on the trail. What if I saw the snake, but did not recognize the snake as being a threat to me. Or, even better still! If I saw an angry person running towards me waving a stick, but I didn’t see that what I was looking at was an instant hospital vacation. Wouldn’t you agree that I would have a kind of blindness?

Blindness, by definition, means a state of sightlessness. That’s what being spiritually blind is. Not being able to see evil for what it is, or good as not evil. Confusing, huh?

It was for me too! I had to go and see a specialist to get some spiritual understanding! Nope. Not an ophthalmologist or an eye surgeon. Because my human eyes weren’t the problem. I needed to be able to see spiritual truth. I had to be able to see so well that I could see what was a threat to my body and my soul, and what wasn’t. So I… You guessed it! I made an appointment to see the Son of God!

When I got down on my knees and asked Him to accept me as one of His loyal and dedicated patients, He accepted me, gave me spiritual sight, and paid my bill! Then he put me on the Jesus healthcare plan for eternal life.

Imagine what it really means to be spiritually blind. -And not being able to see that when you’re doing something wrong it isn’t any kind of right, or not being able to see why getting into heaven is so important. …Or see what it will cost eternally if we run out of time before we sign up for Jesus’s healthcare plan for eternal life.

I was spiritually blind, but now I see! Thanks to my accepting the Jesus plan, I’m able to see what’s good or evil just fine now. Call now, and get enrolled! His prayer line is open 24/7.

God bless you. And thanks for reading!

Well, here I was, sitting in front of the keyboard with my head as empty as a new piggy bank straight out of the box. I was Just sitting and staring at the screen. Then after a short eternity it hit me. I wasn’t supposed to be just sitting and staring. I was supposed to be typing! But what?! There wasn’t any answer for my question. The silence around me was kind of spooky. I knew that blogging wasn’t supposed to work this way. But fear not, everybody. A cartoon lightbulb appeared over my head. The light didn’t light up the whole room as I expected. I think it was a forty watt bulb. But anyway, it was like God dropped off today’s blog idea to me. So I leaned forward and started typing.

You ever take notice of anyone laughing and crying at the same time? Strange, huh? I’ve seen it happen in the movies plenty of times. But I never really thought about it as being a big deal. …Not until it happened to me in church.

I represent only one man’s opinion here, but I think laughing while crying is a marvel. …Laughing while crying?

Only two things I can think of that would cause this phenomenon to happen. Hysteria or joy. -Which is the exact thing that happened to me in church. No! Not the hysteria thing. The joy thing.

I was singing a praise song to God. Not like the way we sing happy birthday. You know. Kind of without that much bounce to it. Nope. I was singing with the power of big gratitude and thankfulness that was blended with enthusiasm. I was clapping, with my eyes closed, my head was tilted up, and I was step dancing, side to side, like a choir member. Then all of a sudden… I know, I know. You’re expecting me to say “It hit me, right?” Well, when you’re right you’re right!

It felt like a charge of antigravity energy went through my head and shoulders, making me feel like I weighed less than my usual 235lbs.

I was so overwhelmed my tear ducts poured uncontrollably and I started laughing. Now ain’t that something? -A grown man laughing and crying in the middle of a crowd. Undignified huh? But I didn’t care. As long as that charge of power was in me, I could handle the stares.

I guess I’m sharing all this to get people to recognize the human phenomena we see and overlook. -To take a look at one thing concerning being human and being blessed. Being human and being loved, and so on. Yup. I know you can tell where I’m coming from.

When you can recognize how real God is, it really changes how you look at things. Here’s hoping you experience the happy joyful side of laughing and crying. Thanks for reading along!