Teaching Compassion and Christian Responsibility (Audio)

ITP #41: On Thanksgiving Eve our In His Shoes outreach delivered meals to needy families in the Glendale area. Anush and her husband and niece delivered food to three families in transitional housing. On this episode, we take a look at those families, and we talk about getting our children involved in helping out with compassionate acts and teaching them Christian responsibility. Come on in...it's all Inside the Pomegranate.
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Homelessness, HomeWalk LA, and being Grateful (Audio)

ITP #39: This week brought with it two opportunities to reach out to the homeless community. Hear about this month's homeless outreach and some of the challenges facing families in the shelter and how you can help. And then there's that Gratitude List Anush said she's share with you. Take a listen Inside the Pomegranate.
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Homelessness, HomeWalk LA, and being Grateful

Our crew for this months' homeless outreach including
Yn Susan, Me, Fr. Vazken, Meline (Harout's mom), Sonig
and Kevork (Harout's aunt and uncle) and Ani T.

If you tuned in to last week's episode of the Next Step with Fr. Vazken, or if you're friends with "In His Shoes" on Facebook, you've no doubt heard about our homeless outreach last Thursday evening.  I've talked out our In His Shoes homeless outreach quite often....in fact I feel like I'm talking about it all the time.  But it's important.  And I wanted to mention what a beautiful gesture it is when a meal is donated in memory of a loved one to those who have no way of repaying the kindness.  A couple months ago, the Hamparian family donated the meal in memory of their daughter Cathia.  This month the meal was donated in memory of Harout Mekhdjian by his family.  We've had many other donors who have donated in memory of a dear father and husband, sister or a mother.  And in all these instances, I can tell you that the families leave the shelter after a night of service feeling uplifted.  This past week was no different.

We arrived at the shelter at 5:00 p.m. to prep for a 6:00 p.m. dinner.  After unloading the car, we started cooking.  There were mashed potatoes and stuffing to be made.  Harout's mom and aunt and uncle were offering a prayer of Thanksgiving for their son and nephew's life, by preparing a Thanksgiving meal with all the trimmings for the shelter residents.  Together we worked.   We all had our jobs.  I have never made such a huge pot of mashed potatoes...it was something like 28 cups of water, 14 cups of milk, 8 sticks of butter, and packet after packet of mashed potatoes!  The turkeys were prepped ahead of time and kept warm in the oven.  There was cranberry sauce and gravy to go with the potatoes and stuffing.  Salad, pumpkin pie with whipped cream.  As we worked happily in the kitchen, I noticed a little girl looking at us through the window.  The kitchen at the shelter has a glass window where we can serve and pass the meals over.  And this little girl was watching us.  If she were a bit taller she would have been able to press her nose to the glass, but she was still a little too short.  She answered with a nod when I asked if she was hungry.

The shelter is home to families...and this month we had a record number of children.  The little

girl looked familiar.  I normally remember the kids from month to month and I like to surprise them by remembering their names.  But I couldn't remember her name or when I had seen her last.  But her face stumped me.  As we were cooking, the residents starting returning to the shelter, which is closed during the day as the men and women go off to look for work, and the children go to school. Some of the children were playing together in the main room while we cooked and I saw a mother with a baby in a stroller.  I had definitely seen her before and then it all clicked.  Last year, my siblings and our families had "adopted" a family for Christmas fulfilling their wish lists for clothing and gifts.  The little girl was four last Christmas but was tiny wearing only a size 2 toddler.  Now at five, she had grown a little bit more, but was still small.  The family that we adopted - who were then in transitional housing after  a fire had devasted their home - were now back at the shelter.  The mother, who was very pregnant last year, had had her baby - Gabriel.   I went up to her and reintroduced myself.  She remembered.  After commenting on how her children had grown so beautifully, I asked what had happened.  Plain and simple, she answered the funding for housing had run out.  Without that, they found themselves back on the street.  With four children, and having nowhere to turn, she came back to the shelter.  Grateful as she was to be inside, the shelter had no beds for them, and so for the time being, they were being allowed to sleep on the floor of the waiting room on blankets.  

I really can't imagine what I would do in this situation if I couldn't rely on my family or friends.  It would be so scary and difficult to be homeless just by myself, but throw my young children into the situation?  I don't know how I would manage.  I didn't know what I could possibly say.  I asked, "What's next?  What's going to happen?"  She didn't have an answer  She was hoping for some type of program that will help them get into housing.  "Hopefully," she said.   For the time being, she was grateful that they had a roof to sleep under and were off the street.

One of the things I've noticed about Ascencia is that because of it's small size, the residents all become a part of each other's family, sort of.  It's not uncommon to see the children sitting with their friends while the mom's sit and talk together at their table over dinner.  It's intimate enough for parents to keep an eye on their kids and for the children to feel safe.   Her younger children seemed unphased by all they had been through.  I'm guessing it was because this type of trauma had become their norm.  They sat with some of the other children, eating, laughing, playing with their food like children do.  Angel, her son, remembered me and came up asking me if I remembered his name.   I needed a hint and asked what letter it started with.   Once he said "A", I remembered.  And then Chris and Lauren who have been there for the past few months asked me if I remembered their names too. Of course I did.  : )  I worry about these kids during the month.   I wonder how this will effect all of them.  The one that I fear is most affected is the teenage daughter who is about 14 but already looked mature and street smart for her age.  I noticed that she was sitting with the women, listening to their talking and complaints, learning about life from these women there who have no support systems and no one to rely on. These women who have been abused and neglected.  I think about my own teenage niece who has a loving family, is doing well in school, has interests and hobbies and parents that nurture and love her.  Even when you have everything going for you, being a teen is tough when you think about it.  So then what are this girl's odds of getting out of this situation unscathed given the emotional, psychological and physical trauma she's had to endure at a young age?

Fun pics from HomeWalkLA 2014 with
my husband Ned, niece Madi and dear
friend Nancy

I don't have the answer, but I can't sit back and do nothing either. And so we walked.  This past Saturday, Team In Her Shoes participated in HomeWalk L.A.  This is a  5K walk/run organized by United Way.  It was our 7th year participating.  And this year there were a record number of us walkers:  13,000 of us took to the streets of Los Angeles to raise money and awareness for the homeless of our city.  I want to thank those of you who donated to my walk!  This year's walk generated $1.3 million dollars to be used for helping LA's homeless population.  With the money raised, 1,300 families will be housed!!!  I hope and pray that our little family in Glendale will be able to reap the benefits of our efforts.

As we walked through the streets we learned about homelessness in our city.  There are 40,000 documented homeless men, women and children in LA.  If you count the undocumented in with them, it is estimated that there is closer to 53,000.  It's heartbreaking, isn't it?  Everyone deserves a home, a place to feel safe.  53,000 of us here in our city don't have that luxury. When you look at the even broader picture, the statistic is even more staggering. The National Center on Family Homelessness reports "One in 45 children experience homelessness in America each year.  That's over 1.6 million children.  While homeless, they experience high rates of acute and chronic health problems.  The constant barrage of stressful and traumatic experience also has profound effects on their development and ability to learn."  

So where am I going with all of this?  I don't have the answer.  Well, I guess that's not really true. What we can do...what we can ALL do is to keep them in our prayers.   AND we can extend the hand

of friendship and love to them as our brothers and sisters.  I understand.  Not all homeless people are friendly, but most are used to being invisible.  When I get off my bus in downtown, it's 6:45 in the morning when I start walking the few blocks to work.   I've got my headphones in as do probably 80% of those that I pass.  There are homeless individuals who are just waking up from a night on the street.  I can choose to keep my headphones in and pass them by acting like I don't hear them asking for help.  Or I can take the headphones off and address them.   I can't always help, but I can always acknowledge that I hear them.  I can always say hello and listen.  I can always show them compassion and treat them as I would want to be treated.  Last week, I challenged my readers to get involved in their local shelters.  Offer to serve or cook a meal, donate clothing, adopt a family for the holidays.  Remember always that without our own support systems (our family and friends), it would be very easy for us to be in their shoes.  So lets help by walking in the shoes of those that are suffering, and offer a helping hand whenever we can.  It's what we're called to do. 

Finally, last week I said I was going to share a Thanksgiving list with you.  Stuff to be grateful for.  I

What if it really happened?  What would you have?

actually started doing this last month and have continued well into this month and will take it beyond. I've been trying to do FIVE a day, and I'll tell you, it's really changed my perspective so much on all that I have in this beautiful life.  So here I will just share some of them with you in the hopes that you'll share some of yours with me!

So here;s my Gratitude List so far:

I am grateful for....

1.  This beautiful day that God has put in front of me.

2.  Our beautiful grandchildren Arek and Grace who bring so much joy into my life.

3.  The ability to swing a kettle bell and bend my knees today (I have arthritis and some days the inflammation is terribly painful...but for today, the knees are good!

4.  My mom and the relationship I share with her

5.  A boss that listened to me when I told her my job was unfulfilling to me unless I could be creative.....and allowed me to work a 4 day week and keep my benefits, so I could spend time growing my business.  Or the fact that she doesn't flip out when I tell her I'm going to be late when I have to take mom to the doctor.

6.  My faith...that teaches me love, compassion, tolerance and forgiveness of others (although I'm still working on being loving, compassionate and forgiving of myself)

7.  My husband who truly is my understanding and caring partner

8.  The relationship I share with my children.  I am blessed to be close to both my daughter and son.

9.  Cloudy mornings that are so beautiful and chilly

10.  Music...and it's ability to color my life with memories

11.  Running water/plumbing:  I am always reminded of how lucky I am to have clean water, plumbing, the ability to shower and wash myself when I see my friends on the street.  

12. My sister, brothers, and their spouses.  The support and love that we give to one another makes life so much easier.

13.  Good coffee

14.  A variety of healthy beautifully colored fruits and vegetables

15.  Friendly people at the bus stop that make my wait nicer

16  My health!

17.  The ability to buy groceries and pay my bills

18.  A phone that allows me to see photos of my grandson and how quickly he's growing

19.  Bright, sunny and windy fall days like today

20.  Heating that makes my home warm and cozy on chilly evenings

21.  My kitties who love me unconditionally

22.  Dear friends to share life's ups and downs with

23.  Healthcare - I've seen both sides of this one, and life is so much easier when you have health insurance!

24.  The ability to create, visualize, and actualize a project to completion

25.  Curiosity that keeps me wanting to learn new things and figure out stuff

------I'll keep adding to the list daily and I hope it will encourage you to take a look at all that is beautiful in your lives too!

 If you'd like to share your list (or anything else with me), or if you'd like more information about sponsoring one of our homeless outreach meals, please email me at anushnoor@gmail.com or you can find me on facebook too!  Or feel free to leave your comments!

Also, we're full swing into our Thanksgiving canned food drive.  If you're in our local area of Glendale, CA and would like to participate, please bring your dry and canned goods to our church by next Sunday, November 23rd.  We'll be boxing up food and turkeys for Thanksgiving distribution on on Thanksgiving eve. 

Wired with Compassion? (Audio)

ITP #34: Giving our youth the opportunity to serve the needy is an important life experience that all are equipped with, but not many embrace. On this week's episode Anush talks about this month's outreach and shares one young adult's reflections on his service.
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Wired with Compassion?

 This past week, we had our monthly homeless outreach at Glendale's homeless shelter.  As you know, each month we go with a small core group that is familiar with the surroundings and what we need to get done. And then we have a few new volunteers who sign up as well.  I think it's really important that we keep extending the opportunity and experience.  There are familiar faces among the residents and there are new residents as well.  Our crew served up meatloaf,  baked potatoes with butter and sour cream, peas, green salad and ice cream for dessert.  All served up with smiles and a heavy serving of love.

If you know me, you know I'm a sucker for babies.  I spotted a cute little one year old in a stroller that was pushed close to one of the tables.  All smiles and curiosity, his eyes were following his mother who was in line for her dinner.  His mother had to be all of about 20 years old.  A pretty girl, with sad eyes.  As she walked toward her smiling baby, I could see she had a marked limp and no use of her left arm.  I circled around the dining room asking if I could get anyone anything.  She asked me if I would wash out her baby's bottle and fill it with juice.  When I returned with the bottle, she asked if I could help her cut the baby's food. I noticed an odd scar on her face and didn't think too much about it.  I noticed that when she spoke, she spoke softly, barely opening her mouth.  Later, talking to Edward, the resident manager he commented about the baby...and how nice it was to have a baby around the shelter.  He said that everyone had taken to him sharing with me how smart he was at only a year old.  And he told me about how he and his mother ended up at the shelter. Edward called the baby a "miracle from God".  He said the baby's mother was shot in the face in her 8th month of pregnancy.  The bullet had caused her paralysis.  Thank God, the baby was born healthy.  It was a long time before this young mother was able to leave the hospital having to learn to walk again and fend for herself.  Thankfully, they are at Ascencia for the time being and in a program to get their lives back together.

For the past 3 months, I've noticed this beautiful girl at the shelter.  She is delicate, and pretty.  Always has her make up on, hair fixed, dressed as nice as she can be.  This month, she came to the dinner line with flowers in her hair.  She looks like a model.  When I asked about her, the resident manager shook his head. He said, she was here years ago as a litte girl with her mother.  They went through our program and moved on.  Then her mother met a man, and she was gone.  Left her daughter with nothing, no family, no home, to fend for herself.  Since this happened, she hasn't been the same he said.  She dresses up every day as if he were leaving to go somewhere.  Heartwrenching.

Stories like this are not uncommon.  They are happening all around our country.  Lives are broken and shattered.  There is a lot of sadness out there,but thankfully, there is a lot of hope as well.  Those that help on our outreach for the first time around very moved.  And more importantly, they are hooked.  I have never had someone help that didn't ask me to let them know when they can help again.

One of my core crew, my friend Lida, shared a speech that her son Leo had written.  A few months back, we took a crew of teens and young adults with us to crew.  Leo was one of our team.  His mother said that he was so moved by the experience, that he couldn't get it out of his mind.  So much so that he wrote a short presentation about it for one of his classes.  I just wanted to share excerpts from it with you.

He writes:
"In the U.S., more than 3.5 million people experience homelessness each year.  35% of the homeless population are families with children - which is the fastes growing piece of the homeless population. People become homeless for many different reasons....

"...One of my memorable experiences was when I volunteered to help out at a homeless shelter.  When I was first invited to volunteer by our church, I asked myself several questions:  Why am I doing this?  Why would I have to help out complete strangers when they've done absolutely nothing for me?  Why would I waste my time?

"...When I got [to the shelter], we started cooking, putting together a nice meal for those in need.  As I was examining the place, I realized that there are a lot of people out there who don't have a roof over their heads, a simple bed to sleep on while there are others out there who are stressing about what their next car is going to be, or when the're going to get their next iPhone.  In the process of serving food to the people at the shelter, I came acorss an African American family of 5 children and their parents who had a great affect on me.  This family consisted of a mother and father, 4 young gilrs and 1 young boy, who was the most grateful and polite kid I've ever met.  When asking for something, he always made sure to say, "please" and "thank you," and when served dessert, this kid had the biggest smile on his face - as did his whole family, repeatedly saying thank you for everything.  

"...As we were cleaning up, I reflected back over my life and all the times I had felt I had nothing.  It really made me realize I had more than enough.  After serving the people food, the counselor at the shelter took us on a little tour around the place.  I got to see what it's like for people to live with absolutely no privacy at all. At least 40 people of all ethnicities shared one, big room filled with bunk beds."

Leo went on to say how much this experience had changed his life, and how fulfilling it was to help those in need.

This past week, my young cousin Ani joined us on our outreach.  She too was moved with the experience, yet shared it a little differently.  She said that she neither experienced pleasure, nor pain from it.  In other words, she didn't feel that happiness to serve that many experience.  Nor did she feel pain in experiencing the struggles of others.  What she did experience was a strange feeling that she was right where she was supposed to be at that time.  That she was doing exactly what she should be doing.

In both of these instances, in opening up our outreach to our youth, we provide the opportunity to experience

what most people - young or old - wouldn't normally experience.  To put themselves in the shoes of the needy, the homeless, and to get an inside glimpse of what their reality is like.   And by doing that, we raise the level of compassion within us, to carry on Christ's message of love to those we come in contact with.

It's important, don't you think?  To raise our children with compassionate and loving hearts.  God is within each of us.  I think that's the reason that helping others feels so good to us.  To some it's what they are supposed to be doing.  To others it's a way to understand how blessed their lives are as they put things in perspective. But I think in all instances, helping others with caring and compassionate hearts is an innate desire that is planted within us.  It's there for us to nurture, to nourish, and allow it to grow, if only we follow God's call in each of us.

Do you have a story to share about volunteering or helping the needy?  I'd love to hear from you.  Please leave your comments here on blog.

~Special thanks to Leo Ananian for sharing his reflections.

All Under One Roof, Under One Sky (Audio)

ITP #21: Ever get asked for help by someone that you know is not helping themselves? If you say no, do you feel guilty? We talk about that this week, and also reflections at the homeless shelter, and continuing on with the little things to be thankful for. Anush covers "All sorts of stuff" on this week's episode of Inside the Pomegranate.
Links:
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email: anushnoor@gmail.com
link to blog: www.pomegranatenadeye.com
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All Under One Roof, Under One Sky

Last week, my friend suggested a topic for me to cover. He said, "How about when we feel guilty when we stop to help people that always use us when they're in trouble...over and over again, without them doing the right thing for themselves. How does this make sense?" That's a big one, right? I'm sure all of us can relate to this - and it doesn't just pertain to the homeless but to anyone in need. Some people are just needy. Always making the wrong choices, asking for help just one more time. We help, and then the next thing we know, they're in trouble again. Sound familiar? It does to me. I have people in my life like this - who have been like this their whole lives. What do you do when it's someone in your family? More than likely, you'll not turn them away, but help them, albeit, help them knowing it's not the last time, right? Of course, because family is family. But let's take it a step further, because I think my friend was talking about people on the street. Do we just continue to help the same people on the street - even though we know they are not doing the best for themselves? Do we give money to the homeless guy who asks for money to buy something to eat knowing he's going to buy alcohol or a fix? I want you to hold on to this for a little bit, while I tell you what happened to us on our homeless outreach on Thursday evening because it was very special, and beautiful, and because even though 4 days have passed since then, I still can't stop thinking about it.

Last Thursday, it was our night to prepare food for the homeless shelter in Glendale - Ascencia. For the past 6 years, our In His Shoes outreach has been feeding and clothing the homeless of Skid Row, and earlier this year we expanded our outreach to cook dinner at the Glendale shelter. From the very start of the evening it was magical. Late Wednesday evening, I received a text from my sister asking when we'd be going to the shelter since she had girls' clothing to donate. She has great timing. I dropped by at 6:30 Thursday morning for pick up. When I got to Ascencia that afternoon after work, I was the first of our group there. This was the first time for us at the new facility which opened last month. And I noticed a lot of people out front. I guess the rule maybe that the doors open at 4:30 for the evening, and the residents had started to gather. Within the group, I noticed quite a few children in the group, and along with them, tired parents. I rang the bell, my arms filled with groceries for salad. A few minutes later, they opened the doors and everyone came in. The kids went into the common area, some watched TV, other's played, a saw one teen doing homework. It was very homey. I went to the kitchen to get started. And then I remembered the clothing. 

Edward - the resident manager - helped me with the bags in the car. I told him I had clothing for little girls and some adult clothing that I had collected as well. We brought the clothing in and put it in the dining area and I saw Edward give the "come here" hand signal to a middle aged woman. He told me, "She has 7 kids. She'll be able to use these clothes." Seven kids. Wow. She came over and I told her about the clothing and that my sister had said there was a duffel bag as well as a child's sleeping bag. She thanked me, and I went on to the kitchen to tend to the salad. But I was able to watch what was happening from where I was. The next thing I saw were two little girls that she had called over. (Later in the evening I got to meet them). These two little girls were so excited. It was like Christmas. They went through the bag of clothing, the woman holding the shirts/sweaters/pants up to size on the girls. The older girl got the pack. The little girl got the sleeping bag. They left the clothing that wouldn't work for them, and they in turn called over another couple of girls, older this time. And they were able to use some of the clothing. And this went on with more and more gathering. each taking only what they could use. I wished that my nieces could have been there to see the joy that this simple act of giving brought to this group.

Fr. Vazken came next, and I put him to work chopping tomatoes for the salad. And we talked while working - enjoying the time together before the rest of the group showed up. Next Yvette came. I had asked her to bring fruit to fill the fruit bowl. She had brought beautiful apples, oranges, bananas and pears,and they were brimming out of the large stainless steel bowl. It was really beautiful, just like those Thanksgiving cornucopias that symbolize abundance. As we took the bowl of fruit out to place on the table, I noticed the faces of the children as they were using the communal space. And then slowly they made their way over....taking an apple or a pear. The sparkle in their eyes as they were so happy to have such beautiful fruit. It made me remember stories my mom used to tell us when we were kids. Always at Christmastime, when we had finished opening our gifts on Christmas morning, amid the torn wrapping paper and the toys that we had just opened, she would tell us about how little they had growing up, and that always on Christmas morning, Santa Claus would bring them an apple. An apple! As a kid I remember thinking wow..what a gip. Right? I would think, she must not have been a very good little girl if that's all he brought her. But there and then, standing there watching these children enjoying something to basic that we take for granted, it made me understand what my mom had shared so long ago with us.

Next, Suzie and her mom came. They had prepared the main meal for the evening: chicken tikka, basmati rice, spiced lentils, rolls and butter. Lida and Jenny came to join us and brought with them dessert and juice, and there we were, working side by side in the kitchen, preparing the meal, getting things ready for the feast. I have always felt comfortable with the homeless. I've written before about how our parents would share our food with the homeless of our community. We grew up understanding that they are no different than we are. All of us created by God, who loves us all. Equally.

One of the residents there is a man I've seen for the past 3 times we've been there. He's got long hair, a wild look in this eyes, and wears a lot of jewelry, some of which is intricately beaded. I was admiring his bracelet as a fellow beader, and he told me he made all his jewelry himself. A fellow artist, he told me he had made some bad choices in his life and ended up on the street strung out on heroin until Jesus Christ saved him. He had been clean for 22 years. He shared with me that he wanted to put on a show/exhibit for the community, to give back, and had spoken to Fr. Vazken about talking to our teens about his story. He was so open and honest and ready to share his message with those who will listen. I was glad for the opportunity to talk to him and hear his story.

Dinner was served. Such abundance. Our friends lined up on the one side of the glass, with us on the kitchen side, customizing their plates. No rice? More chicken? Sure you can have a plate for your brother. So many beautiful faces, but the most beautiful of all were all the children, so hopeful, so excited. Once everyone has been served, we get a chance to make a plate for ourselves and join the residents in the dining room. At this time, we brought out this large sheet cake. Suzie had chosen this cake with pretty autum colored icing roses in the center. The little girls came over, "Who's birthday is it???" I said, "No one's birthday. We just wanted to share with you!" They watched as I cut the cake, eyeing it but not taking a piece. And then I connected. It took me way back to when I was a little girl. Watching the cake being cut and waiting, patiently, until the icing flowers were near so I could ask for a flower. These little girls were no different than I was. I stopped cutting, "Would you like a piece with a rose?" Punch stained mouths said, "Yeah!" I took the knife and cut into the center of the cake asking them which rose, what color. They were so happy! These two little girls were Shalyn and Lauren. Sisters. I could tell without asking from their beautiful blue eyes. I asked where their mother was? They told me their mother didn't live here. I asked if they lived at the shelter with their father. No, they said, they were here with their grandmother. All seven of them.  

A cute little boy came over to the fruit bowl. Same pretty blue eyes as my two little freinds. Eyeing the fruit, he was digging deep into it and pulled out a pear. "I love pears!" He said biting into it. A little while later, I saw him finding another pear. I asked his name. Nathan. We talked a bit. When I commented that he was pretty smart, he said that yes, he was smart, and his favorite subject was science. And he confessed this was his fourth pear! I told him to save one for his lunch tomorrow and asked if he had gone to school today "Not today," he said, "The district didn't give me permission. But I'm going tomorrow." I'm not sure how school works when you're a homeless child, but from what he said, I guess he had to have some sort of clearance to attend.  

The mood was so comfortable. We were enjoying just being there. Shalyn had become Suzie's new best friend, and was happy eating her cake and chatting her. As I was walking over, Nathan came up and tapped me on the arm. In a soft voice he said, "I really loved dinner." It was so sweet and heartwarming. I could't help but hug him. I told him how special he had made us all feel and that it made us so happy that he loved it. I asked if he'd like to meet the person who cooked the meal and took him over to Suzie. He told Suzie the same thing. She was touched, as was our whole crew. When I introduced him, he extended his hand to shake hands with us. Such a gentleman. Later, I found his grandmother who I noticed was probably close to my age. I wanted to tell her how sweet her grandchildren were, and how polite. When I first approached her, I felt her guard was up. But as soon as I told her how sweet Nathan's comment was, and how much we had enjoyed talking to him and her other two grandchildren. Her face softened and she got a little misty eyed. "Thank you," she said. "They can be a handful." I can only imagine how difficult it would be to raise 7 grandchildren on my own. God had blessed this woman with Love, strength and patience to raise these children so beautifully.

We were all so touched by the evening. There was so much good going on. During last week's bible study, Fr. Vazken talked about the family and explained our Armenian word, "Undaneek". Family. Literally translated this work means, "under one roof." Our brothers and sisters at Ascencia are family to one another. Sharing a home. Sharing life and themselves with one another. And once a month, sharing their live and love with us. God bless them all, and God bless the staff at Ascencia for the important work that they are doing.


So now back to my friend's original question, about feeling guilt when you don't help someone that continually asks for your help because you know they aren't helping themselves. I'll give you my take on it, and you can tell me if you agree or disagree.

I have found, that there are two types of people that ask for help. The first are those who really need help, and the second are the scammers...those who take advantage of a soft heart. These are the ones that scope us out in the parking lot at the grocery store and tell us the story about how they need X amount of money to get a busride home because their car broke down, blah, blah, blah. Or that they can't afford diapers for their babies, and could I just spare $20. I know, I know. It could be true, but in these cases, I know they're lying because I fell for it, and then was approached by the same person a couple days later with the exact same story. Regarding the scammers, I don't contribute to them.  But I do help those that are in need. Regardless of drug and alcohol addictions. But one thing I do, rather than just hand them a passing dollar is stop and talk to them. What is their name? And what is their story? Believe me, most of these people are so used to being "invisible" they're often surprised when I stop to talk.  

If you want to help but think your money will go toward drugs or alcohol, then you can ask if they're hungry and get them something to eat. If you work in the city or some place where you see the same person on a daily or weekly basis, maybe you can offer them something to wear. Ask if they can use some socks (this is something we always get asked for on our homeless outreach). If you have nothing to give, you still have something important you can contribute. A smile. A conversation. Offer to pray for them. But don't give up on them. Because God NEVER gives up on us. As Christians, it's not our job to judge anyone. We will be judged the way that we judge others. Think about that. Is that what we want for our final judgement? Uh, I don't think so, right?

As far as feeling guilty for not helping them -- I understand how that feels too...and that's why I started talking to the homeless. Because I can't always give money. But I can smile or say hello. On those days, I just say, "I'm sorry, I can't today. But how are you? Are you doing okay?" At least you have acknowledged their presence rather than ignoring them as you walk by. And always, always, imagine that that person is Jesus. I saw the face of God in a homeless man when I was about 12 or 13 when my father had me take a plate of food to him on Christmas day. His eyes were piercing, blue, and kind and etched in my memory forever. I knew it was Him. And that's when my ministry started. I am doing it for God. Because of God. And because I follow the teachings Christ. To love and care for my brothers and sisters. If my God commands me to do it...then I do it, right? So that's how I view it. What do you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, so please leave your comments for me below.

So that's pretty much it. But before I finish up, I just wanted to share with you this week's list of the "little things I'm thankful for." As you know, I'm focusing on being thankful for the little things that make life so beautiful. And I'm hoping you're doing this along with me. So there it is:

1. Mobility! I think I take for granted so much that I am able to walk. And I walk A LOT. But I view it as a given. I am blessed with mobility. I can get around and not have to rely on someone else to get me there. You know, I often complain about my weight, or my legs, but these legs have carried me through life. I'm so blessed to have them to get around.

2. Clean water. All we have to do is turn on the faucet and we have clean water. Do we realize how fortunate we are? We're spoiled. The water is clean coming out of the tap, yet how many of us have to drink bottled water because tap water doesn't "taste good." Did you know that 3.4 million people die each year from water related disease. tthat's about the size of the population of los angeles!) And every 20 seconds a child dies from it? Check out Water.org

3. Popcorn - I love popcorn. Have you ever thought about who thought about popping corn first? And then who thought of putting butter on it??

4. Compassion. I am thankful for compassion and the ability to help others. Some get defensive. "They're milking the system," they say. But "they" is really "we". We all belong to one another. We're all part of the same family and it's up to us to take care of one another. I'm blessed with a compasionate heart and would rather be this way than any other.

5. Saturday morning coffee. It really is the small things. Saturday morning. Relaxed coffee at home. The best ever! One cup before breakfast when I'm cooking. The second cup with breakfast. The third cup about a half hour later, after I've cleaned up the kitchen. Coffee always tastes so much better when I'm at home.

6. Beautiful colors in nature. Look around. In my front yard the leaves on my tree have changed to bright vivid yellow. Last Saturday, I took a basketmaking class and the colors in the pine needles were so subtle and beautiful. Be aware of the way the sunlight affects nature at sunrise and then at sunset. The palette changes right before our eyes.

7. And finally, this is a big one for me...
I am thankful for the ability to create. My life is happy because I get to create. Basketmaking, crocheting, jewelry, cooking, drawing, blogging. Creativity is happiness for me and I am blessed that I have the ability and means to create.

So I showed you my list...now you show me yours!! Oh come on....at least list a couple in the comments section below!! Okay, give me one! When we focus on the little things that bless our lives, we'll appreciate each day a little more fully. I hope you all have a wonderful week ahead.

Wanting More

This past weekend, I took a trip to Las Vegas with some of my friends.  The little two day trip was fun, and it gave me a lot to think about and I thought I'd write about it over the course of the next couple of weeks.  This week I'm writing about about that need to want “more”.   I’m not a big Vegas person, but there are a few things that I enjoy there:  people watching (Vegas is the place to do it!), relaxing, and playing penny slots.  Slot machines have come a long way since the put-the-coin-in-pull-the-lever-hope-for-lucky-sevens type.  Now they are more like video games.  And a penny is hardly what you play on a penny slot.  You bet a penny a line with some machines having up to 100 lines.   And then you can multiply your bet 2x, 3x, whatever.  But I do like them because you can play for quite a while, winning and losing, and if I’m lucky, I’ll come out a few dollars ahead (which doesn’t happen very often).  In fact, most of the time, I lose what I started with, always thinking that if I put in just one more play, surely, I'd hit the jackpot...or get the free spins.  And this Saturday night, when I was digging through my purse for just one more dollar to feed into the machine, my behavior made me stop (after yet another losing pull) and think about human behavior and how we are wired.  Or if it's really wiring at all, or is it learned behavior?  What I'm talking about is this need to want more.  

Vegas makes its millions by this very thing, right?  The need to keep gambling.  The hope that “just one more bet” is going to be the winner.  I’m wondering if this is part of our hardwiring – a type of survival mechanism from our early days.  The need for self-preservation maybe?  The thinking that if  I won a little bit, that’s great.  But if I can win a little more, that’s even better.  It’s like that little girl on the AT&T commercial, “We want more! We want more!”

Is it greed?  I'm not too sure about that.  I think it's more about gratification. But the truth is that I'm still thinking about it.  I thought I'd have the answer, but I don't. 

Our monthly In His Shoes Skid Row outreach was this past Monday evening - the day after I returned from my trip.  What a huge contrast between the glamour and glitz of Las Vegas, and the poverty and homelessness on the streets of Skid Row.  What I was wondering is this:  Are we hardwired to want more for ourselves?  Or is this need something that is learned in our fast-paced, material world?   As I sat at the slots, putting in that last dollar, I thought about this: What if this same need to want more for ourselves didn't just stop with ourselves?  What if we had a need to want  more for others?  On our homeless outreach, we had prepared to feed about 170 people.  Sadly there were so many people living on the streets that we ran out of everything -- sandwiches, snackes, everything.  What if we couldn’t stop at helping just 170 people a month but we felt the need to help “just one more” person.  And now thinking about this on a more global level, I'm reminded of those tribes in Africa and elsehwere  where people truly live as a community, all helping one another and working toward the common survival of themselves and their community. When one person eats, everyone eats.  When one person struggles, they all struggle.  I think it's more of a nature vs. nurture issue.  

When I think about our homeless outreach group, I KNOW our main reason for doing this outreach is because we have been commanded by God to do so…to feed the hungry and clothe the naked.  But I also know that there is a lot of gratification in it for each of us when we spread Christ’s light and love to others. And I do think that for us that that gratification is enough to keep us coming back for more.     And so now the question is: Has God created each of us as compassionate, giving human beings...and then do we learn to want more for ourselves for survival in society?   I think this is more likely.   At least I would like to think so. 


Finally, I'll leave you with a little food for thought. Just this morning, I read Pope Francis' address and it tied in to this beautiful idea of community and compassion.  He said, 

"The Lord has redeemed all of us, all of us, with the Blood of Christ: all of us, not just Catholics. Everyone! ‘Father, the atheists?’ Even the atheists. Everyone! And this Blood makes us children of God of the first class! We are created children in the likeness of God and the Blood of Christ has redeemed us all! And we all have a duty to do good. And this commandment for everyone to do good, I think, is a beautiful path towards peace. If we, each doing our own part, if we do good to others, if we meet there, doing good, and we go slowly, gently, little by little, we will make this a culture of encounter: we need that so much. We must meet one another doing good. ‘But I don’t believe, Father, I am an atheist!’ But do good: we will meet one another there.”

“Doing good” the Pope explained, is not a matter of faith: “It is a duty, it is an identity card that our Father has given to all of us, because He has made us in His image and likeness. And He does good, always.”

Like I said, I don't have all the answers on this one, but it's "ripe with possibilities!"  What do you think?  I would love to hear your thoughts.  Please comment on my blog below and let me know what  you think.

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You can hear the audio version of this post read on this week's episode of "The Next Step with Father Vazken" on epostle.net

Thoughts On Fasting

Empty lunchbag:  Fasting on Tuesday

It's a typical Tuesday.  I got up, got ready for work, watered the garden, fed the kitties, went into the kitchen, rinsed my sprouts, and and then I grabbed my lunchbag and started packing food for the day: something for breakfast at my desk, something for lunch, some carrots for a snack....and then I remembered....Oh yeah, it's Tuesday.  I'm fasting today.

I am fasting today, and every Tuesday until July 14 in solidarity and remembrance of our brothers and sisters in Darfur.  It's been ten years since the violence has escalated there.  It's hard to believe for me that so much time has gone by, but it must feel like an eternity for those in the IDP camps.  As a granddaughter of genocide survivors, I heard similar stories of horror and displacement from my grandmothers.  While there is nothing I can do about our 98-year-old Armenian genocide, I can work toward stopping one that's going on today in Darfur.  And so I have joined this 100 day, tag-team fast.

Fasting makes me realize how much I take food for granted. We have food in the fridge.  Even when I open it and don't see anything I want, there's still food there. I am spoiled.  There's food in the cupboard too.  When I get to work, there's food there, in the kitchen. Not only food, but water, and 4 kinds of coffee, and hot cocoa and tea too.   There is food in our work area.  We are able to eat when we're hungry.  And we're able to eat when we're not hungry.  Fasting helps me understand that life is not fair.  Not everyone has what I have.  And as a practicing Christian, it is commanded of me to do something about it.  Not to look down and say, "I'm fortunate that I'm not like them," but to ask, "Why don't they have it?  And how can I share what I have with them?  How can I feel their pain?  How can I help?"

In the movie, "It's a Wonderful Life", it's said that an angel gets its wings every time you hear a bell ring.  Well, I have a different version of that.  When I'm fasting, every time my stomach growls, it's a reminder that tens of thousands of people are without food.  They don't have the choice that I do...to end the fast.  The growling is their reality.  Fasting is a very powerful tool.

Fasting helps me to move myself into a more spiritual realm of faith and power by putting aside my physical desire for food. We put our faith first above our physical needs.  And with fasting comes prayer.  A prayer for healing and focus.  That God heal our hearts to understand the needs of others before ourselves.  That we have the strength to push for justice; keep our focus strong and our hearts compassionate to their needs, and also for a realization that we all belong to one another.  I also pray for the courage to tell the story, get the word out, and remain vigilant in the cause.  Join me and many others.  Let's be the change we want to see in the world.

If you would like to join the fast, please click on this link for more information, to sign up, or to donate:
100 Day Fast for Darfur

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To hear an audio version of this post, please tune into the April 11 episode of "The Next Step with Father Vazken" at www.epostle.net

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Making a Difference

I watched this video this morning on Facebook and thought it was so beautiful - how one man made the difference, and ended up bringing the community together.  It's stories like this that bring out the best in humanity.

The Right, the Left, and a New Look at Direction

Today was election day.  We voted for city officials.  It's always amazing to me how much junk mail is generated at election time.  Most of the time, I don't even look at it...it goes from mailbox to trash.  But all the junk mail and phone calls to vote for this person or that person got me to thinking about my own views, not political but spiritual.  And I started thinking about the Left, the Right and what makes them so.

One of the groups I follow on FB is called The Christian Left.  I can't say that I always agree with them, but for the most part, we are aligned in our belief that Christ and his teachings are all about love and compassion.  So what makes them "left"?  We tend to think of the left as more liberal; and the right as being conservative.  I even sent off an email to my brother and said, "We are the AOL - The Armenian Orthodox Left" because at our church - our many ministries focus on a more global outreach rather than the usual ethnocentric views of other Armenian churches.

The Left side tends to be more rebellious and radical in their ideas traditionally sharing and distributing the wealth more among the needy.  While the Right is more set in their ways, more about growing business and wealth.  And then there's the Christian Right.  The ones that give the rest of us Christians a bad name.  They're the ones that judge (even when we were told "Judge not lest ye be judged." Matthew 7); and they have a lot of  hatred in them (when they condemn those that are different from themselves).  And so what they are successful in doing is drawing people further and further away from Christ's teachings in the name of Christianity.  The way that I defend my faith when I explain their actions is by telling someone who asks my opinion in comparison to theirs? - Their Jesus is not MY Jesus.  I mean seriously...we believe that God is Love...Christ is love incarnate...so what Christ is commanding us is what our God is commanding us.  It's not  just some guy off the street telling us that we should love one another and care for one another.  It's God telling us.  And if God said it, then that's good enough for me!

Okay, so now, here's where it gets tricky.  So, as an orthodox Christian, I adhere to the teachings of Christ. We follow the rules of our faith - what I like to call "Applied Christianity".  We believe that Christ is love incarnate.  To follow His teachings is to follow a path of love and compassion.  We follow the fasting traditions and dietary restrictions of our faith. We feed and clothe the needy and care for those that are suffering.  So if the RIGHT is traditionally the ones that are supposedly "conservative"; then shouldn't we be more aligned with the Right?  It seems that it all got jumbled up somewhere.  The extremists should be on the Left as they've taken the tenants of Christianity and rewritten it to their own liking.  And then there are those of us that believe in the true message of Christ who are just practicing what He preached:  Love one Another.  Take care of one another.

So forget what I said about calling ourselves the  AOL - I think we should be known as the OAR - The Orthodox Armenian Right!   Just paddling through the flotsam in the sea of life!  We should strive to live our faith through action as Christ taught.  We are not so much conservative as we are traditionalists - Traditionally, our Christ was free thinking, a non-violent revolutionary, non-condemning, loving and compassionate and forgiving.  .  Those are the qualities that I work on following in my spiritual path.

So there it is.  Something to think about.  New definitions.  It seems to me that what was Left, is now Right; and what was Right is just, well...wrong.

A Loving Divorce

I was talking to a friend the other day.  She is going through a failing marriage.  We sat and talked over coffee, sharing our pasts and thoughts and emotions, and then, and then what came out of my mouth kind of took me aback.  Not that it was surprising, because it's what I knew in my heart to be true.  But the way it flowed out came out so naturally.  What I told her was this:  Open your heart to love.  Do all things out of love, always.  Because when your heart is open to love, you will attract goodness.  And don't be afraid to fail.  Because in failure there is growth.  Learn from your mistakes, forgive and move on.

Going through a divorce is not easy.  I know because I have been there.  There are a lot of emotions, hurt, anger and pain.  And so how is it possible to have a loving divorce?  Weird question, right?  First of all, I'll tell you, it's not easy.  But it can be done.  The key is prayer and forgiveness.  Prayer has always been important to me.  It took prayer to guide me to make my decisions.  It took prayer to help me heal.  And it took a lot of prayer to forgive.

As I talked to my friend, the analogy of a wound came to mind.   In the beginning, the wound is fresh and painful.  If you keep it clean, nurture it, and take care of it, it will slowly heal.  Eventually, it will heal over and all that will be left is a small scar...to help you remember the good parts and learn from the past.  If you treat the wound with bitterness, anger and hatred, it will keep opening and festering.  A constant reminder of the bad hand you were dealt and the pain that you're going through - over and over again.

Forgiving one's self is the hardest of all.  Growing up in a family where divorce was not in the vocabulary made it especially difficult. So forgiving myself for a failing marriage was the hardest, especially when I thought about my children, division of the family, and all that bad stuff.   I am fortunate in that my ex-husband understood that we would forever be in each other's lives because of the children we have together.  We tried hard to never speak badly about one another in front of the children or otherwise.  We never allowed our kids to feel that they had to choose sides.  We worked hard to be there together for their birthdays and family events.  It was a lot of work, quite often very awkward, but in all things we thought first of our children.  And as they grew older, we had less parenting to do together, and so our differences became less and less prevalent.  Eventually, time healed the wounds and both of us  moved on and remarried.

Our children have now grown into adults.  My son was telling me the other day that he has so many friends who have divorced parents that can't stand to be in the same room with one another.  I am blessed that things worked out as they did, but it's not random chance.  Like I said, it takes a lot of work, an open heart and an ability to forgive. And it takes faith and prayer.  None of us are perfect.  Once I came to terms with this key fact, it became easier to forgive and move on.  When we pray the Lord's prayer, we ask, "forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."  In other words, forgive us the way that we forgive others.  I try very hard in all things not to judge someone.  I leave that up to God.  When it's time, He will be the one to judge.  My job at this time, is to spread His love and light to others.  This is my daily prayer.

This past October, we had the honor of sharing a very blessed moment together.  My ex-husband and I walked our daughter down the aisle together as she approached the altar to marry her best friend and the love of her life.  When we kissed her and gave her over to her handsome groom, we took our place in the pew as her loving parents - next to our respective spouses.  Love is forever.  Sometimes it changes shape and reinvents itself.  Old wounds heal, and all that remains is a small scar to remember the good times, to learn from the difficult times, and to revel in the beauty of a life well-loved.

An Amazing Love - or - The Love Gene

I don't know how they do it.  Nurses.  I read a post on Facebook just yesterday and in a nutshell, it said this:  They don't have time to take care of their physical needs because they are taking care of ours.  They get yelled at because our medication is late, they are away from their families because they are there taking care of ours.  I know this all too well because in 2011, I was hospitalized three times over a six month period.  And while I was going through all that, my daughter Ani was a nursing student.  As a nurse's aide, I heard all about her day to day and so I tried, despite my pain, to be kind to my nurses.  When I was going through my bouts of cancer, my daughter was there by my side, not quite a nurse yet, but so loving and caring.  She would follow up with my appointments, question my doctors, sit beside me to offer support.  All good training for what was ahead.  That very year, I proudly watched her graduate nursing school just 6 weeks after my surgery,  and the following year I was there to celebrate the completion of her nursing residency.  And so why am I bringing this up now?  Old news, right?

Well, today is Valentine's day.  A day to appreciate those we love.  And I wanted to share this with you because it touched my heart.  This morning I got on the bus at 6:30 a.m.  In my mad rush to get out of the house on time, I grabbed my phone off the charger, threw it in my pocket and made it to the bus on time.  Looking down at my phone when I finally sat down, I saw a text message from my daughter:  "I just went to see my patient.  He's not looking too good.  Please keep him in your prayers."  My daughter and I are united in a lot of things, but one of the strongest of these is prayer.  So I prayed - on the 409 Commuter bus - for her patient.  That God give his body strength to receive the medications, treatments and care.  But also, that if that was not possible, that He not allow this child to suffer long.  I texted her back.  and looking at my phone I realized that her text had come to me at midnight.  6.5 hours earlier.  I wrote her...apologizing for the delay...asking how her patient was, hoping that he made it through.  But she responded that he had passed away during the night.  This patient had been in her life in and out of the course of a year.  Diagnosed with cystic fibrosis, he was in the hospital frequently.  I could "hear" it in her text message, and later in her voice when she drove home in the early morning.  Just as our nurses grow on us; so too do their patients grow on them.  They think of them; pray for them; and have hope for them.  And this loss affected my daughter.

I rode into downtown thinking about all of this.  How do nurses do it? Faced with life and death everyday?  I don't know if I'd be able to be so strong.  And it got me thinking of the difference between them and us.  I think that some people are blessed by God with the "love gene".  It's not a scientific thing...or maybe it is...but it's the love gene that makes a nurse able to comfort someone's sick child in the middle of the night.  It's the love gene in a nurse that restores a hospitalized teen's dignity when they need cleaning up;  It's the love gene that enables a young nurse to dry her tears at the loss of a patient, and in their grieving, turn around, put on a smile and help someone else that's in need.  The love gene is patient, kind and nurturing.  And it is filled with hope and compassion.

So on this Valentine's Day, I wanted to send a special love note out to all those amazing nurses!   Thank you for all you do.  From all of us: parents and patients.  Thank you for being patient and kind with us with us even though  sometimes we aren't patient and kind with you.  Thank you for hurting when we hurt.  And for your amazing love.  You are a blessing in our world.  Oh, and a special note to my daughter...I love you,  Ani.  You are my hero!

The Jumper

I kept hearing laughter, loud talking, joking coming from my boss' office.   It was late afternoon.  I had just said goodbye to my boss.  So what was going on in her office?  I kept working.  I had an hour left til the end of the work day and too much to get done, so I didn't get up to go check.  But the noise went on, for a good 45 minutes.  And slowly -- as I subconsciously tuned into the conversations - I realized what was going on.

The reason for this gathering?  It wasn't a party.  But it was a "disconnect".  They were gathered there for a better look at the jumper.  Because we're on the 19th floor, we have a view of the city and the freeway below.  In the nine years I've worked in downtown L.A., I've seen several like him climb over the bridge railing and  think about ending it all.  People kept coming and going into the office. And I heard "is he still there?", "anything yet?", "wish he'd jump already."  There were jokes made, someone suggesting "music to jump by."  More laughter.
I am so  hurt and saddened by this display of insensitivity by my coworkers.   As I sat at my desk trying to focus on my work, I couldn't.   I thought about the crucifixion, and how the people taunted Christ when He was on the cross.  I thought about how alone He must have felt and how alone the jumper must be feeling on the bridge.  From the corner office I could hear them calling him a "loser", an "idiot", a "nut".  

We hear so much about bullying in schools.  What about bullying in life?  That's what was going on.    Sure, the victim wasn't right there, but it was that same taunting, and the banding together of those that were doing it....with a common goal.  To mock someone less fortunate.  What would have happened if instead they showed caring and concern for this poor man in his time of need.  What would have happened if they came to his aid and helped him off the bridge?  But it was probably that very mocking that brought the jumper to this point in his life.  Maybe by others, maybe by his own inner self.

As disappointed as I was though, my deepest disappointment was in myself.    I didn't participate in that corner office gathering, but I am no better. By choosing not to say anything, I allowed it to go on.    I thought about what I could have done.  I wouldn't have been able to go down to the street level and deal with the jumper, but I could have gone into the office and expressed how I was feeling and maybe that would have made some of them think about their comments and actions.  So why didn't I?  Did it have to do with fitting in?  A little.  But it was more that I felt it just wouldn't make a difference to them..or to the jumper.  But the truth is that it did make a difference.  And because I did nothing, it made a difference to me.   Try as I might to work, I couldn't.   I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Eventually, the police got to the jumper and convinced him to step off the bridge.  Thank God.  The show was over, and everyone went back to work.

That night, I said a prayer for the jumpers of the world -- those that are lonely, the taunted, the bullied. I prayed that God show His love to them through us.  I prayed for the bullies...that God open their hearts and fill them with compassion and love toward others.  And I prayed for the silent - that God would open our mouths to help us to speak out for injustice.  And give us courage to do what was right. 

This morning, at my desk, I received an email from my boss.  It was a mass mailing to the entire office.  A photo from the previous afternoon accompanied the email - "Here's a view from my office, " it said.  "What's new with you?" and a happy face.

This time I did speak up.  I wrote her an email response, and told her how sad the whole thing made me...what had gone on in her office...and how this man on the bridge was someone's child..someone's son.  I told her how disappointed I was in myself for not speaking out.  And I continued, "...and so I needed to write this in response to your email...because staying silent didn't sit well with me."

I received a response: "thanks for the reminder that I need to be more sensitive. I know that was not your intention, but I need to work on that for myself."

I need to work on that for mysef too.

Pray for Peace. Believe in Peace. Live Peace

Have you every been in conversation with God when you receive a message so clear that it sort of makes you stop and say, "Is that you, God?"  I had one of those moments today during my morning prayer.  Except for one thing.  There was no doubt.  I didn't have to ask, I just knew.

I always pray for peace.  That our world leaders will wake up and work toward peace.  That we choose the right leaders for our country.  An end to fighting.  That our soldiers - all soldiers - return home safely.  For Darfur.  For my sponsored children in Chad and Malawi, for Iran, Afghanistan, you name it.   But this morning was a little different.  The concept of "if you want peace, you need to work at it.  "Pray for Peace.  Work for Peace.  Live Peace" was very prominent.

I can't explain to you how it was conveyed to me. And I finished my prayer knowing that I was going to - I was commanded to -  share this with whomever would read/listen.  And let me just say, it's nothing like the heaven opening up, actually the concept is so simple you'll probably not think it's that profound, but receiving it, it really was!  So here it is.

I was thanking God for hearing my prayers.  So many people that I have been praying for are doing so much better and I'm so thankful. I was thinking about why those prayers were answered yet we are so far from peace.  Maybe it's collective prayer:  in these instances, many are praying for the afflicted.  And because we are praying, we are living the prayer, daily, we're aware of that person's issues. We call them, we care about them, when we see them we are genuinely happy and go up to embrace them sharing our concern. And then when healing takes place, it's evident, sometimes tangible. 

With peace it's different because it's a concept.  But like anything we pray for, we have to believe, and live it.  We have to vote for candidates that will govern with Love, not hatred.  Might can't be right.  Love can be.  We have to live in peace with one another - not letting the little things bother us, forgiving people that hurt us.  Moving on from the petty.  Caring for each other.  Doing what is

What about vegetarianism?  It opens that door for me to think about.  If I'm going to live in peace, is the killing of animals keeping me from living in peace?  I haven't decided that one yet, but inside, I know that it's true, right?  It's my own pleasure that I'm seeking when I say, "yeah, but...."

This was the clear message.  We have to pray it, believe it -- correction -- "I" have to pray it, believe it and live it.  I have to keep it in the forefront of my consciousness.  If I want it as bad as I say I do, then I have to work for it (just like weight loss, walking 39 miles, like anything!)  It has to be a top concern because without peace, there is no future. 

That's the message I got today.  Pray for peace.  Believe in Peace.  Live Peace. Today I will take steps toward peace.  I want to think about this more in the coming days, weeks, months ahead.  I would love to see a world of peace and love replace the hatred and violence.  I think working together, we can achieve it!  What are your thoughts?  I would love to hear from you.