Don't Sweat the Small Stuff!

Well, it's certain. I'm going to die. Yep. In the meantime:

I'm drinking bottled water left in the car.
Eating cookies that I dropped on the floor (5 second rule or not).
I'm spending time in the sun with or without sunblock.
Driving my car within 25 miles of home.
Eating fried catfish caught in the Mississippi river by my loving husband.
Eating the occasional bacon and sausage.
Walking out doors through fire ants and maybe getting bitten.
Walking outside at night and getting the occasional mosquito bite.
I plan on talking to total strangers at the check out line. In Wal-mart!
Plan on drinking my 2 shakes a day, drinking 5 bottles of water a day and getting some exercise.
I may even have a bowl of ice cream and a bag of popcorn.

How long do I have? I don't know. Maybe 20 or 30 years. But unless THE LORD comes...

No one knows the day or the hour or even the year, so live today. Enjoy today. And don't get too caught up, over-the-top twisted about "saving the planet" and eating only "healthy stuff" because THE LORD will have HIS day and the earth and the Heavens will all be made new.  And when that happens, guess what?  You will be, too, if you are a child of HIS.  So what you need to be the MOST concerned about is where you'll spend eternity, knowing that the only time you can become a Child of GOD is here in time.  Once time passes, it's too late.  The decision is made.  Become HIS now.  Be the best HE made you to be.  HE has great plans for you.
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#2014NoExcuses ‬ ‪#‎Christian‬ ‪#‎ViLife‬

Shalom!  Pray for the PEACE of Jerusalem!

Project 10 Challenges

PROJECT 10 CHALLENGERS
LOSING WEIGHT!  GETTING HEALTHY!  HELPING KIDS!!

#vilife join our challenge!! Tamika

"Just a little over a year on ViSalus! Down almost 140 lbs. on the Project 10 challenge, off all 5 of the prescriptions I was on, countless inches lost (yes, I need to measure) and feel better than I have in years! I Joined a gym, have a trainer (and those words are still amazing coming out of my mouth), workout 3-5 times a week and LOVE IT!" Kathy

“One year ago I would have thought it impossible to lose 100 lbs. I have no idea what I am capable of and that is awesome!” Congratulations, Rod! Never stop surprising yourself! #FitnessFriday — with Rod Medel.

March 27, 2012
My Body By Vi Challenge is:
lose 9 pounds which will take me down to 160lbs,
lose 3 inches on my waist,
lose 3 inches on my hips,
and add an additional 2 miles to my walk in the morning which will make it 4 miles. — with Wes Pigott.

Body By Vi - Pam Pigott shared Pam Pigott's photo.

Posted by Pam Pigott · April 12

For everyone who is embarrassed or afraid to go public with your weight:
I am sharing this again because I find it hard to believe that I have lost so much weight just by faithfully drinking "milkshakes"!!!

Oh yeah! That BMW I'm standing in front of wasn't mine. I have my own now!!

This is great!! I have been below 150. I'm about 152 now.
I am down to a loose size 10!!
I'll have to check on the other measurements.
WHOOO!! HOOO!!

Not my usual post, but I am excited to see the progress others and myself have made on the Project 10 Challenge.  The PROJECT 10 CHALLENGE DONATES TO HELP CHILDREN AS EACH OF US LOSES WEIGHT AND GETS HEALTHY!   TO FIND OUT MORE INFO CONTACT ME AT MY WEBSITE!  

Body By Vi - Pam Pigott

 Shalom!  Pray for the PEACE of Jerusalem! 

Do any of us know what it is like to be truly hungry?  Do any of us know what it is like to look death in the face day after day?  There are some portions of the world where people know, really know, hunger, fear and we are so far removed from them.  We must not forget them.  We must remember that for some, the coming day brings new terrors and more hunger.  What is their crime?  They are Christian, they are Jew, they simply exist.

 

There was nothing that I could add to this writing to enhance it.  My feeble words could only detract.  Please go to this link to read the entire article:   Bergen-Belson Diary 1945

Bergen-Belsen Diary, 1945

The great Yiddish writer Chava Rosenfarb records the first days after her liberation, in a stunning document of survival

By Chava Rosenfarb| January 27, 2014 12:00 AM

 

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A group of women at the liberated Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in 1945. (George Rodger/Time & Life Pictures/Getty Images)

Soon There Will Be No More Survivors

Watch this presentation: We say people must remember the Holocaust in the future, but we’re ignoring its victims today.

By Matthew Fishbane

The Last Poet of Lodz

The untold story of the great epic poem of the Holocaust—and the generous, tragic hero who wrote it

By Chava Rosenfarb

Holocaust Poetry, Saved Again

New translations of three astonishing poems, which evoke the horror of the Lodz ghetto and its aftermath

By Chava Rosenfarb

Bergen-Belsen was liberated by the British Army on April 15, 1945. Conditions at the camp were so horrendous that the British burned it down in order to stop the spread of typhus and other diseases. They relocated the survivors to a former German Army barracks, two kilometers from the original camp. This new camp was called Bergen-Belsen Displaced Persons camp.
This diary by Chava Rosenfarb appears to have been written in this DP camp, when Rosenfarb was 22 years old. The following extracts were published in Yiddish in 1948 as an addendum to Rosenfarb’s first collection of poems, Di balade fun nekhtikn vald (The Ballad of Yesterday’s Forest). It is translated here by Goldie Morgentaler, Rosenfarb’s daughter and a professor of English at the University of Lethbridge.

Bergen-Belsen, May 6, 1945
Father, where are you?

Today, for the first time, I hold a pencil in my hand. My fingers tremble over the white sheet of paper. Where is your warm, sure hand to cover my trembling fingers and lead them again to open the sacred doors of our Yiddish aleph-bet? When I was a little girl, you guided my hand over the neat white lines. We wrote the word “Tateh” and there arose such a light from those five small letters that the word itself acquired a soul, and I saw that soul reflected in your loving smile: “Tateh.”

I sit near the window. The branches of the large chestnut tree outside reach up to the second floor where we are staying. Today I can see the sky and it is of the purest blue. Perhaps it is just an ordinary blue sky with nothing remarkable about it. But I see this sky as it must have looked to the first human being when he suddenly recognized God and genuflected before the beautiful blue expanse that stretched above his head. I want to write: “How beautiful you are, blue sky,” but instead I see your luminous eyes. I can feel your blessings and your dreams, your smile and your longing.

Below my window I hear a commotion. It is nothing serious. Soup is being distributed. Everybody will get a portion. People are impatient, still haunted by the anxiety of yesterday that lives on in them. Although they know that no one will go away without his portion of soup—if not at this window, he will be served at the next—but still they all try to be served first. They want to be sure of that little bowl of soup, to stir it with a spoon. There is a man standing opposite my window. He emerges from the tangled crowd holding his bowl in his hand. He does not go to his room. He does not sit down at the table. Leaning against the stone wall he gulps down the soup as fast as he can. God, how hungry he is! For years he has been hungry and for years he has been frightened. He is very thin. A heavy coat hangs from his shoulders and reaches to his ankles. Between one slurp of soup and the next he wipes his face with the sleeve of his coat. He is tired but happy. I can see his eyes dance with pleasure as they glance away from his pot to embrace everything around him, from the green grass beneath the window to the tall chestnut tree. He is so happy. What is he thinking about, this man, this Jew, this tortured emaciated Jew? Most likely, he is not thinking anything at all. Even so, I know and his limbs know and his body knows that soon he will cast off his heavy black overcoat. Soon the flesh will grow on his bones. Life has arrived!

I shut my eyes. Deliberately I put out of my mind the man standing opposite. And suddenly I see you, Father. It is you. I can see how the strength is returning to your body. You are alive. Perhaps you too are standing somewhere at this very moment with your bowl of soup, leaning against another wall. Is it possible? I ask my heart, but it trembles with uncertainty.

May 7
Wherever I look I see you. No matter what other thoughts come into my mind, you are always there. Where are you, Tateh? Will I ever be able to caress you and beg your forgiveness? I showed you so little kindness in the lost days of my feverish past. I told you very little of my innermost thoughts. You were so thirsty to know my feelings and I was so stingy in sharing them with you. Where are you now, Tateh? I want to tell you everything!

Did you hear the firing of the guns? The shots are meant to tell the world that peace has come, that the hour of freedom has arrived; those very days for which you so longed when you were shut up in the darkness of the ghetto. Have you lived to see them? The uncertainty is torturing me. My only hope is that a miracle has saved you. You were so tired after those five years in the ghetto. But then, cut off from us, how could you have survived the still more terrible atrocities of the camps? Perhaps the longing to see us again helped you to survive? Tateh, we are here. The fire is glowing, but you are missing from our joy.

May 8
It is over. Our liberation has come, but she wears a prosaic face. No one has died of joy. No one has gone mad with excitement. When we used to dream of freedom, we bathed her with our tears. We crowned her with the garlands of our smiles and dreams. Now that she is here, she looks like a beggar, and we have nothing to give her. With what desperation did we call for her in those dark days. With what power did her far-off shimmer flesh out our thin bodies? Now she is here and she beckons to us from every corner. She is right before our eyes, yet we cannot see her. She begs us: “Touch me … enjoy me …” But we are tired. Our past, like a hawk, circles overhead, fluttering its black wings, devouring our days with horrible memories. It poisons our nights with terror. Poor, sad Freedom! Will she ever have the strength to free us from those dark shadowy wings?

Bats circle outside the window. Their wings flutter in a ghostly dance. My unfinished ghetto poem torments my mind. It used to accompany me in the camp. With its words on my lips I used to drag myself through the snows in the early winter mornings to work. I penciled the verses on the ceiling above my bunk. Each day a few more lines. In my mind, I hear them constantly.

Through the open window I can hear the loudspeaker announcing that today the war is officially over. Where are you, Tateh? I want to hug you. The air trembles to the distant salvos of guns. Thin clouds of smoke waft through the air. We celebrate this festive moment with a chunk of dry bread. We have nothing better.

May 10
At night when I open my eyes, I see Mother and Henia. They are wiping the sweat from my forehead and they constantly ask how I feel. We tremble over each other’s wellbeing. I want to comfort them. I want to tell them that we do not need to be afraid anymore. We are free now. But how can we protect ourselves from death? No, we are still very helpless.

I have a fever. Perhaps it is a cold. Or is it, perhaps, typhus?

*********************************************************
Shalom.  Pray for the PEACE of Jerusalem

The Holy Land Experience - Is it amusing?

The Holy Land Experience in Orlando was originally developed as a teaching tool to show people what the Holy Land was like for those who were unable to afford the trip to Israel.  I always wanted to go.  Zola Levitt even conducted tours there a couple of times a year before he "graduated to be with THE LORD." 

It has since been sold to a large "Christian" business and I no longer have any desire to go see it.  It is a glorified theme park.  It is advertised boldly as the nation's best "amusement' park.  But they have ordained ministers and churches and theaters and baptisms and The Lord's Supper and it's all so "spiritual" and entertaining, amusing and exciting.  Really?

No, I am not against people having fun and even enjoying the BIBLE, but the problem I have with this (and I may be on my own) is that we have grown to expect our Church to entertain us in Worship, in Sunday School, in Vacation Bible School and we embrace the world to the point that there is little difference between the Christian church house and the world we are to be separated from.  We are supposed to be sanctified, "set apart" not blended in.  We are supposed to attract people with our CHRIST likeness not our worldliness.

There was a song about 30 years ago and the only line I can remember is "Would Jesus wear a rolex?"  Wonder what JESUS would do with the HLE and their T-shirt and book sales and souvenirs?  Would HE praise them for their ingenuity or would HE braid a whip and run them all out.  I don't know.  I just know that for me it's nauseous.

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Ray Stevens
(http://youtu.be/76ohvqwsNkk)
"Would Jesus Wear A Rolex" Lyrics

Woke up this mornin', turned on the t.v. set.
there in livin' color, was somethin' I can't forget.
This man was preachin' at me, yeah, layin' on the charm
askin' me for twenty, with ten-thousand on his arm.
He wore designer clothes, and a big smile on his face
sellin' me salvation while they sang Amazin' Grace.
Askin' me for money, when he had all the signs of wealth.
I almost wrote a check out, yeah, then I asked myself

(chorus)

Would He wear a pinky ring, would He drive a fancy car?
Would His wife wear furs and diamonds, would His dressin' room have a star?
If He came back tomorrow, well there's somethin' I'd like to know
Could ya tell me, Would Jesus wear a Rolex on His television show.

Would Jesus be political if He came back to earth?
Have His second home in Palm Springs, yeah, a try to hide His worth?
Take money, from those poor folks, when He comes back again,
and admit He's talked to all them preachers who say they been a talkin' to Him?

(chorus)

Just ask ya' self, Would He wear a pinky ring,
Would He drive a fancy car?
Would His wife wear furs and diamonds, would His dressing room have a star?
If He came back tomorrow, well there's somethin' I'd like to know:
Could ya tell me, would Jesus wear a Rolex,
Would jesus wear a Rolex
Would Jesus wear a Rolex
On His television show-ooh-ooh?

*********************************

Shalom!  Pray for the PEACE of Jerusalem!

Are we ALL equal ALL the time? No.

Be careful what you give your children to read. Read the books before they do and if you work in a school and would not have certain books in your home, then don't put those books on a required reading list. Don't use them for "reading time with the tots" at the public library either.

What do children's books teach children about men? If the father is portrayed as well-meaning bumbling fool in every book, it is actually teaching your child at a very early age that men are bumbling fools. If the parents are always portrayed as being on the same level as the children, it is teaching disrespect for authority. If we are all "equal" then there is no need to respect authority.

Let's face it. No one is a bumbling fool ALL the time. Just as we should not ALL be treated equally ALL the time. Before you start, unsaddle that high horse, take a deep breath and settle down.

We've all seen the commercials where the momma bear needs to make sure junior bear's butt isn't littered with TP and poppa bear uses too much and has some sort of inordinate fixation to the TP.  It is ALWAYS momma bear that controls the situations and ALWAYS brings order. Poppa bear is the nincompoop that spends too much time in the bathroom playing with the TP. 

A five year old is not EQUAL to Mom or Dad and when the accomplishment charts are put up on the fridge, Mom and Dad's name should not be there. This is a teaching tool for children. Your spouse is not a child. Although you both may act like children from time to time, you are NOT children and should not be treat each other as such. A certain amount of respect should be given to the position of an adult (i.e., Mom or Dad, Grandma or Grandpa). What if, what if, what if. There is always "what if."

Figure it out folks.

I mean, does Mom really have time to examine everyone's butt for TP scraps?  Or does Mom have time to give a star to Dad every time he ties his own shoes?  What about that bathroom time?  Isn't there some time that we can have just a little bit of privacy?  Who really cares how you clean your butt, unless their nose is in the wrong place?

It's just like the Office of President. You may not care for the one in the chair, but he is where he is and is deserving of respect due to his position of power. Scripture tells us that GOD raises up leaders and takes them down. He gives us what we deserve, not necessarily what we want.

Shalom!  Pray for the PEACE of Jerusalem!

#2014NoMoreExcuses  #ALLthingsarepossible