Sunday, September 23, 2007

Music


Music is one of my passions. I love the piano but after years of practice and never really getting it, I consented to just enjoying hearing others play it. I play the guitar...even though rarely anymore. And I listen … always. I love to listen to music!

My taste however is quite diverse. One of the best lines I heard regarding music, was "the more you love music, the more music you love." I enjoy classical music, but I also love hard-rock. I absolutely melt when I hear a great guitar riff! And most of all I listen to music “with a meaning” – even Christian music. I love to sing along and tell God in this way that I love Him. I grew up on church music. I love country music.

Some people it seems like music to act as a sort of wallpaper when they are busy or to dance to with friends.
When I listen to music it’s always because of the words or because the melody has a meaning to me.

That’s what music is all about, in my opinion. It moves your soul (wow, great words, but true). Music can touch you as nothing else can. It can make you happy, sad or reflective. It can bring back memories or give hope for the future.

Whether it’s classical, pop or country (whatever your taste) … music always touches something inside you.

That’s what music does to people. It’s from the heart, because that’s what it’s created for.

See you next time...Ric

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Invisible Woman


By Nicole Johnson

It started to happen gradually. One day I was walking my son Jake to
school. I was holding his hand and we were about to cross the street when
the crossing guard said to him, "Who is that with you, young fella?"

"Nobody," he shrugged.

"Nobody?" The crossing guard and I laughed. My son is only 5, but as we
crossed the street I thought, "Oh my goodness, nobody?"

I would walk into a room and no one would notice. I would say something
to my family - like "Turn the TV down, please" - and nothing would happen.

Nobody would get up, or even make a move for the remote. I would stand
there for a minute, and then I would say again, a little louder, "Would
someone turn the TV down?" Nothing.

Just the other night my husband and I were out at a party. We'd been
there for about three hours and I was ready to leave. I noticed he was
talking to a friend from work. So I walked over, and when there was a break
in the conversation, I whispered, "I'm ready to go when you are."

He just kept right on talking.

That's when I started to put all the pieces together. I don't think he
can see me. I don't think anyone can see me. I'm invisible.

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the
way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask
to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the
phone?"

Obviously not! No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or
sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no
one can see me at all.

I'm invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this?
Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm
not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a
satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car
to order, "Right around 5:30, please."

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the
eyes that studied history and the min d that graduated summa cum laude -but
now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.

She's going she's going she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of
a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip,
and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting
there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard
not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my
out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My
unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could
actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when
Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I
brought you this."

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn ' t exactly sure
why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with
admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would
discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I
could pattern my work:

* No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of
their names.

* These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see
finished.

* They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

* The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes
of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the
cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny
bird on the inside of a beam. H e was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are
you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be
covered by the roof? No one will ever see it."

And the workman replied, "Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was
almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the
sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of
kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is
too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great
cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a
disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own
self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the rig ht perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As
one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished,
to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the
book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our>lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend
he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in
the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for
three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd
built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come
home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add,
"You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We ca nn ot be seen if
we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will
marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been
added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Thursday, September 13, 2007

My 3 Angels


Angels have always been one of my favorite subjects, as they represent the good and true things in life. Angels are always among us. A world without Angels would be a world without grace and beauty. Angels are the guardians of our well being and serve as inspiration to that which we should aspire to, in order to live a life that is happy harmonious and fulfilling.

Angels are sent by God to bring the truth, especially the big truths, to specific people in critical situations

Angels guide us in the way God wants us to go in a specific situation, sometimes calling us to take a specific action.

Angels have another task : that of protecting people. In their protective roles, angels are in no way Precious Moments-like creampuffs. They can be the fiercest of warriors and the swiftest of rescuers, and angelic determination knows no bounds. After all, they're on a mission. From God.

Where big things are happening, angels are there.

When angels "appear" to humans, so as not to scare them, they usually appear in the form that those humans "expect" angels to look like. But this may be nothing at all like the form they normally take (if any!)

And of course, angels are famous for their angelic choirs. It is not uncommon to have 50,000 angels singing in exquisite unison. Why do angels have such beautiful voices? Simple - because they have beautiful feelings. When you pick up the phone, you can immediately tell how the other person is feeling from their tone of voice. The tone of the voice always has encoded within it the emotional state of that person in that instant. This is true of humans, elementals, and of course angels. If you wish to have a more beautiful voice, rather than taking voice lessons - get to the source, the cause - just focus on cultivating more beautiful feelings! When angels greet each other, it is a triumphant and ecstatic symphony of gorgeous colors, music, fragrances, and feelings.

Angels want to serve you! They also want to play with you! They even want to worship with you!


The appearance of wings in many of the depiction's of Angels, is merely to portray their flight between heaven and earth... call it artistic license, but it serves as a reminder that they are not of this earth plane.

Angels will always be necessary in the lives of men, as long as people are of closed mind and hardness of heart, lacking compassion, understanding, forgiveness, faith, love, and trust to name but a few of the virtues that Angels have.
*****************


My 3 Angels……..by Ric Justiss

They Guide Me
They Protect Me
They Sustain Me

Why I was given 3 angels I don't know
But they watch over me wherever I go.

They keep each day perfect,
Chosen by God, handpicked.

They know me inside and out.
They know what I am all about.

The keepers of magic and dreams
Keeping me safe, what a great team.

My 3 angels, filling me with Love
A perfect Love, sent from above.

Somehow they always know,
And help me find a place, just when I think
there is no place to go.

They are the music in my heart.
They are my solace and my rampart.

They see me through the darkest hours.
And cheer me like a bouquet of flowers.

So if you see me out in a bit
Don't mind the angels in my pocket

They will always be on board
Leading me home to My Sweet Lord.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Great Sex


What makes great sex? What keeps the passion alive over time?


In the early stages of a relationship lovers are full of passion and excitement and often experiment with lots of different positions and approaches and explore their likes and dislikes. As they get to know each other better they tend to settle into a routine -- certain preliminaries and a specific way of reaching (or not reaching) orgasms -- with occasional variations. This is a crucial point in a sexual relationship.


Are both partners having satisfying orgasms (not necessarily simultaneous) when they make love? If a couple's routine leaves one partner sexually unsatisfied (and it's almost always the woman), there is trouble ahead. These lovers may confide in their friends that sex has become "boring," but boredom is not the real issue. The heart of the matter is a lack of deep satisfaction for the woman, which robs lovemaking of mutuality and depth -- and may affect her partner's level of satisfaction as well.

Without the deep satisfaction of mutual orgasms, there's a tendency to focus on sexual behaviors that by themselves can seem repetitive and even tiresome. It is boring to go through the same routine week after week if it doesn't culminate in good mutual orgasms.


Conversely, those genuinely happy with their sex life for several years, reveal that at some point they discovered a good sexual finale and continued to use it (perhaps with variations) over time.

But doesn't using the same mutual-orgasm approach get monotonous? Strangely enough, it doesn't. People don't get tired of having orgasms together.


Our appetite for sex is a basic drives that builds up over time. When we've had a good orgasm, we feel mellow and satisfied and our drives are temporarily stalled. When lovemaking is mediocre, our appetite goes down; when the sex is good, our appetite increases. If we haven't had sex in a long time, we are less fussy about the finer points of lovemaking. We can have too much of a good thing: with sex, we get exhausted and sore and our appetite disappears, and we have no desire to make love for a period of time. But the basic drives are still there, and before long, they're back. The kissing, hugging, different positions, techniques, toys, etc., can be great fun, sharpen the palate and heighten sexual arousal, and even boost the eventual level of gratification -- but foreplay activities are a means to an end:; it's the orgasmic finale that really hits the spot. The quality of this final stage of lovemaking is what delivers the lasting physical and emotional payoff. Getting that part right is the key.

Another reason that using the same mutual-orgasm technique can be satisfying year after year is that the feelings lovers experience from orgasms can change from session to session. One of the remarkable things about sex is the potential for great variety within the same technique. Lovemaking in which a couple uses a single mutual-orgasm approach can be hot and lustful, sweet and gentle, loud and raunchy, whispery and quiet, and everything in between. Subtle differences in mood, time of month, level of arousal, positions, pressure, and timing can produce quite different feelings and climaxes. So within the context of one successful approach to mutual orgasms, there can be great variety over the years.


Ric