Bucurati-va cu cei ce se bucura: plange-ti cu cei ce plang.- Romani 12:15
Fratele Bandila din Hunedoara a plecat la Bunul Dumnezeu ieri. Condoleante familiei, o familie foarte frumoasa si plina de binecuvintari.
Doamne adu tu alinare acuma in sufletele indurera-te a familiei si prietenilor fratelui Bandila. Multumim Doamne de privilegiu de a cunoaste o persoana atit de speciala.
Amin.
Last weekend the annual women’s protest happened again and besides hatred towards the current president and the right to abort an unborn baby, I’m not quite sure what else are they protesting for, because the last time I checked we still lived in America where women have far more rights than most women combined in other parts of this world.
Personally, the vaginal hats and F*** signs are extremely insulting to me, but don’t worry that does not define me as a woman; my children do, my husband does and other things that have nothing to do with profanity and genital hats.
I’ll tell you a story- my story.
I was born with few health issues.
For one thing, my reproductive organs did not fall into place as they should’ve and my mother was told I would not be able to have children.
My Fontanella (the soft spot between the parietal bones and frontal bone) was bulged out- the doctor said I was going to be a retard or an idiot, in other words neurologically I was going to be slower than the norm. The Fontanella it looked and felt like jello and my mother hardly touched me for the first few months after birth for fear of hurting me further. So I lacked the bonding time, very important and necessary to a healthy development, but life was different back then and information was lacking.
I also had a severe vitamin D deficiency and I began having regular shots of vitamin D right away that lasted a whole year. These were among the issues that were visible right away and the doctor pressured my mother to have me aborted after I was born, worried that my quality of life would be a burden to the medical system and Marxist society in which I was born. I was a defect product and needed to be discarded so I would not become a useless eater. My mother vehemently refused.
“God’s will be done.” She tolled herself accepting the outcome, but if I wasn’t going to recover I was in danger of a “vaccine shot” that was nothing short of a euthanize method. I did recover.
At home, I grew up in pretty harsh poverty, mostly between the age of 5-19. We went many days in “involuntarily fasting” whether we liked it or not, but for that now some of us are rounder than we’d like to be:) God, yes God, took care of us. That is what I choose to believe, despite the skepticism of others.
We also went through physical and emotional trauma, abuse and at times torture methods until the day each and every one of us left home. Emotionally, if we give way the emotional abuse would continue to this very moment, but all of us have chosen peace, so we have departed from the source of the abuse.
So from many people’s modern standards of today, I should’ve been aborted. After all I had too many physical issues putting a burden on the family or society, I was born in extreme poverty (Eastern Europe poverty), and raised in a very abusive family environment. I fit most of the reasons given for an abortion, right?
Yet, I’m thankful for every day on this earth despite its hardships. I thank God every day for his love towards me shown mostly through other people, some of which are reading these words. We see the goodness in others. We see hate in others as well. So choose. I’ve chosen. I stand for life.
I do not judge anyone who had an abortion- I wasn’t in your shoes when you made the decision and it’s not my place to judge what I don’t know. But I do know the fetus is a living being and I’ve always fought for the underdog. Its just part of my character and I will continue to do so.
God Bless.
Saptamina trecuta a avut loc in America Protestul Anual al Femeilor, si inafara urii adresata impotriva presedintelui prezent in putere si rivna dupa dreptului de a avorta, nu prea inteleg ce tot protesteaza- vor egalitate, dar in America femeile au toate drepturile egale ca si cele a barbatilor, nu ca femeile din partea Arabica a planetei, China, Africa, Europa de Est, India, si alte tari.
Va spun o poveste- e a mea.
Cind m-am nascut am avut ceva probleme fizice de sanate si doctorul a dat de subinteles ca nu voi putea avea copii deoarece organele mele de reproducere nu erau cazute la locul potrivit. Fontenela (partea moale a capului) iesea afara intre cele doua oase (parietale) si era foarte transparenta, doctorul a spus ca voi fi idioata (adica cu probleme psihice sau fara o dezvoltare completa a potentialului creierului). Mama nici nu ma lua in brate in primele luni si ma misca foarte putin ca sa nu-mi faca rau, pina la urma usor, usor sa retras dar am suferit in primele luni de atingere fizica. Vitamina D era, de-asemenea imi era redusa in corp si am facut injectii de vit. D regular de la citeva saptamini de viata timp de un an. Ca atare doctorul a sugerat avort dupa nastere. Mama a refuzat categoric, spunindu-si in sine “Faca-se voia lui Dumnezeu.”
Da am intrat in lume cu probleme si votul de a fi ucisa datorita acestor probleme, dar cind ai credinta in Dumnezeu speranta unui miracol este fantastic de puternica.
Am crescut intr-un mediu destul de saracacios, si am dus greva foamei involuntar multe zile, atit eu cit si fratii si surorile mele si pentru asta multumim lui Dumnezeu ca sunte-m bine si prea rotunzi acuma de atita mincare:))) si cu dragostea lui Dumnezeu in suflet. Am fost raniti fizic, agresa-ti si tortura-ti atat fizic cit si emotional, acest abuz a continuat pina am plecat de acasa, fiecare cind a putut, si pentru asta nu folosim acest motiv sa ranim pe altii si nu dorim sa fi fost avortati. Am avut toti cei 12 frati si surori zile negre pe acest pamint, dar… am avut foarte momente pline de o dragoste infinita din partea lui Dumenzeu, atat direct dar de multe ori prin altii (ca de exemplu prin unii care citesc aceste rinduri), sau chiar si prin straini. Dumnezeu ne alina sufletul cind avem nevoie de alinare, si desi inca avem cicatrice sau rani deschise datorita trecutului avem si multa tarie pusa in noi de Dumenzeu. Viata care mi-a dat-o Dumnezeu este plina de momentele fermecatoare a dragostei lui Dumenzeu si a dragostei oamenilor prin care characterul lui Dumenzeu se manifesteaza zilnic.
Nu condamn de loc pe cei care au avut avort- departe de mine acest gind- pentru ca nu am fost in situatia lor cind au facut aceasta decizie, dar stiu ca Dumenzeu iubeste pe toti si iarta profund si non-stop. Dar sint un exemplu al unui caz care in ochii lumii sansele mele ar fi fost mai bune daca as fi fost avortata… nu stiu ce sa zic decit, voi ce crede-ti?
Doamne din tot sufletul iti multumesc de fiecare zi pe acest pamant, ca are mare pret orice secunda:)
Dumnezeu sa va aline durerea azi si-n fiecare zi. Amin.
Doamne Isuse, iti multumesc pentru o noua zi, desi sufletul meu se simte obosit, iti multumesc pentru o noua zi cu noi aportunitati, desi trupul e plin de durere si obosit de atita durere, iti multumesc pentru o noua zi, desi spiritul lupta in a decide in fiecare clipa pe cina sa asculte (intre tine si diavol), iti multumesc pentru o noua zi.
Poate va gasiti si voi printre rindurile astea, dar in final sper sa simti-ti victoria vietii pusa in noi de Bunul Dumnezeu. Ma lupt cu o singerare grea de ceva timp (cam o luna), slabita si incercind sa alung valurile negre a fricii care apar in forma de intrebari ca de exemplu: Ce se intimpla? si De ce nu se mai termina lupta asta? Am primit medicamente noi de la clinica care am vizitat-o pe 23 Decembrie, care ma pus in pat simtindu-ma si mai rau. Luni am fost la specialist de ginecologie, si mau pus pe progesterone, care mi-au facut rinichiu drept sa ma doare atita de sever citeva zile ca nu am putut dormi in timpul noptii. Asistenta medicala mi-a zis sa intrerup imediat medicamentul si azi astept alt raspuns. Intre timp, jumate de noapte iara nu am dormit, si cind somnul nu vine, vine frica sau indoiala sau grija etc, si a venit si la mine la fel, dind tircoale. O alta simptoma de la medicamentul nou este o depresie cu care trebuie sa ma lupt in fiecare clipa, si azi noapte asa am si facut, cautind raspunsuri la descurajarile mentale care ma invadau… si ele nu au fost putine.
Ce faci cind cazi in intuneric si te simti singur? Ce faci cind nu simti sau vezi raspunsul rugaciunilor tale? Nu stiu ce face-ti voi, dar eu raspund asa:
“Carmen, nu te vei vindeca niciodata, asa ca lasa-te batuta.” Raspuns: “Diavol, nu te voi ajuta sa-mi iei viata, ca mi-a fost data cadou de Dumnezeu, care lupta de partea mea.” “Dar unde-i acest Dumenzeu? Il vezi? Il simti?” raspuns “Desi momentan nici nu-l vad nici nu-l simt, el mi-a facut o promisiune si nu-i in characterul lui sa-si schimbe promisiunile, dar e in characterul tau.” “Uite ce umbra de om esti, fara simnificatie, fara nici o importanta in ochii altuia.” raspuns “In ochii copiilor, a sotului, a fratilor si surorilor, a prietenilor dar in deosebi in ochii Tatalui meu ceresc, a lui Isus si a Duhului Sfint, am cea mai mare importanta!” “Nu produci nimic, numai ei bani pentru doctori si esti povara familiei.” “Diavol, asta e mentalitate Marxista, nu Dumnezeiasca. Am importanta in ochiii lui Dumenzeu care ma creat.” etc
Nu e usor cind te simti singur, in durere, in intuneric, dar… daca copilul tau sar lasa batut de diavol, te-ar durea? Daca sotia, fratele sau sora sar lasa batut, te-ar durea? Daca prietena/prietenul sar lasa batut de diavol, te-ar durea? Daca rasunsul este “da” inseamna ca altii simt la fel daca tu te-ai lasa batut de diavol. Stiu precis ca mar durea pe mine daca te-ai lasa batut/batuta, sa nu mai zic de Dumnezeau care te-a creat.
Azi dimineata am auzit o poveste despre o vrajitoare dezvaluind unei crestine ca nu se poate atinge de ea pentru ca are o protectie in jurul ei, protectie facuta de singele lui Isus si alegerea crestinei de a petrece timp in prezenta lui Dumnezeu in fiecare dimineata. (Sa intimplat acum o luna in Deva) Ma incurajat enorm pe mine aceasta revelatie si sper ca te va incuraja si pe tine in lupta ta.
Doamne iti multumesc pentru o noua zi, cu oportunitatile zilei de a confrunta si infrunta, de a incuraja si de a fi incurajata, de a iubi si de a fi iubita, de a te proslavi si de a lasa pe Dumenzeu sa fie proslavit prin noi. Amin si amin!
Va doresc o zi plina de speranta in mijlocul luptei, nu sintem singuri:) Sintem copii lui Dumnezeu, nu are cum sa fim singuri!
I’ve begun reading “The Naked Communist” by W. Cleon Skousen and it’s not an easy task for me as flashbacks from my own experience while living through the last of the communist era, back in Romania, rise up.
I’ll let you know in my up and coming posts some similarities that I see in the America of today and communist tactics I’ve experienced while back home. This is a subject that I would love to capture it with my brother Alin’s philosophical point of view and have a recorded debate on the matter. It would be both entertaining and informative… and done in our native Romanian language. But not yet.
Today, after bleeding for the past 27th days, and clearly a little lightheaded from losing so much blood, I become philosophical:) (I have an appointment tomorrow with gynecology.)
I was truly hoping 2018 to be void of doctors, pain, pocking, needles and medical stress, thus hid the bleeding issue for as long as I could. Thanks to Elizabeth I did end up going to a Zoom clinic and thanks to my mother-in-law’s insistence I finally made a gynecology appointment. I must admit I struggle emotionally. I’m fighting with a Marxist syndrome, a disease in itself, and trying to grasp a truth as seen through my husband’s eyes, a reality built on being born here in America. I like his view so much better than mine, but in reality, it seems to be just a beautiful fairy-tale I like to listen to often. I have changed quite a bit living here in America, for the better I think, but when disease keeps on knocking at the doors of my soul, the old Marxism rises up debating loudly while trying to win.
When one becomes sick and unable to provide for the motherland (this can be geographically anywhere the mind goes) a man’s value disappears, thus he is no longer needed, according to the communism/marxism laws. If you can’t produce you’re no more than a useless eater (Hitler, Communism movement, Margaret Sangers, Darwinism are the best known for this type of thinking). Raised in that type of thinking, I automatically think like that. Back in Romania, you can see this in divorces, affairs, abuse, neglect, blame, and shame, after one becomes sick vs. here in America, where you see support systems, encouragement, and fighting until the end on behalf of a loved one. (This is a generalized point of view based on the majority of cases, for I have seen harsh consequences following the tragedy of loss or disease here in America as well).
“Oh well, at least they’ll not be a burden to the family now. The sooner they die the better. This is God’s judgment for your sins, your father’s sins, your children’s sins, etc.” Are some of the more normal expressions as a response to any disease in Eastern European culture. (Eastern Europe has migrated into other lands and that philosophy can very well follow.)
In America that differs: “What else can we do, doctor? You’ll get better. Focus on getting better. Don’t worry about the money, you’re more important,” to name a few, not to mention all the “Go Fund Me” types of support.
To top it all off, I’m a woman, raised and tolled in my formative years to believe that I matter less than the life of a dog, born to please a man only and nothing else. Now here’s the tricky part, this belief was preached loudly from the churches pulpits, all done by males, not communism. In communism law (gender or age didn’t matter, you simply didn’t have value). In Romania, I was nothing else but a Christian woman (that’s not a compliment:) to be used and abused than tossed aside when no longer needed or able to perform my duties- at least that would’ve been my lot in life if I would’ve remained there. (Not all men are cruel, alcoholics or abusive in Romania, but most are). I know great Romanian men that are very decent and loving to their wives, their children and in general to everyone else around.
Now, don’t you worry about me, God’s helped me heal quite a lot from many of these issues, by providing proof of ignorance, instability, indoctrination, culture and a theory (Marxism) based on violence and narcissism (read about Marx’s own pathetic life, his example as a father and husband, and his inability to live up to his own theology). I’m healing, that’s why I can start talking about some truths without disintegrating and with a healthier perspective. Now let’s move on.
Its been only God’s presence and patience, working either directly in my heart or through people such as Chet, my parents-in-law, Elizabeth, my Romanian friends and so many other people I know, that helped me heal. My siblings have been the biggest help, other than Chet. Chet wants to help but it takes someone who went through hell and back with you to understand the darkness you must heal from. I know I’m not the only one feeling this way. There are far too many that have seen an even greater darkness than I have.
In the days when I’m not feeling well it’s easier to fall into that autopilot old way of thinking, yet, those same days are the ones healing me and teaching me some of the best lessons about myself and life itself.
Why have I let the lies of others (religion, a devil, etc, call it anything you want) take such residence in my heart for so long? Guilt and ignorance of the truth.
I’m dying. (I’m being dramatic here) We all are. Some faster than others. But I’m the one who decides if I’m going to help the evil end my own existence with feelings of fear and hopelessness, or if I would much rather spend that time laughing alongside my loved ones.
When you really get this, life even at its hardest will be worth fighting for. It’s our life, given to us as a gift by God, so guard it and fight for it, it’s our right to it.
Well, like I said, the philosopher in me came out today:) Be happy with the simplicity of life, for a farmer is far happier with his life than a philosopher usually is.
And ultimately, I’ll keep on learning or unlearning, sharing with you parts of those lessons hopefully to help you heal faster and sooner, and be grateful for everything.
God Bless:)
I’ve expressed in my last post of my desire to write more. Don’t you know by now that most New Year Resolutions are simply a “to do” list for the first week of January:)))))
I have been writing more, in fact, two hours a day on my new fiction adventure novel called “Finding Home”, but enough about that.
New Year brings out the “health nut” portion of ourselves, usually for a couple of weeks for most and a bit longer for others (unless your “health nut” person is out all the time having fun running, in that case, this may only be one of those easy reads for you). The “health nut” usually tends to go right back into hibernation for the better part of the year. It may have a few breaks now and again. It will come out in full and temporary feverish mood, usually before summer for that amazing bikini look, or before a wedding when you want to look better than the bride herself.
I began my yoga exercise again, after a nice break of six months. Breaks are necessary too, especially when one fights an autoimmune disease. In fact, I must be going through something this very moment because I’m misspelling every single word as if my brain would rather sleep instead of think.
The yoga program I followed for more than ten years now is a Canadian based program called “Namaste” Yoga Practice by Kate Potter. It used to be a television program, maybe still is, but its the only exercise routine I stuck with all these years. I’m not a believer in the spiritual side of the yoga practice, I simply like its smooth moves and relaxing way of moving the body. I tried all sorts of other programs before this one, programs more rigorous, and found them downright annoying.
Anyone fighting Chronic Lyme, Cancer, MS, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Fibromyalgia to name only a few of the autoimmune diseases, does not have the energy most days to take a shower, or go up and down their own home’s stairs, let alone exercise. In most of these cases, any and all energy present in the body, it is wisely distributed towards activities such as doctor appointments, dinners, laundry, lunches for the kids and maybe sex with your spouse. However, when these diseases are in remission the fun begins. I remember celebrating the walk to my own mailbox, which progressed to being in the car when my husband drove to do the grocery shopping, to taking five, ten then twenty-minutes long walks, to playing tennis and now to driving small distances. Oh, the joy of stabbing one’s toe and crying happy tears because you actually felt that pain, where once used to be a tingling numbing spot.
Well now I’m stronger and I can do the complete 20-minute yoga program. I love the stretching part (although if you decide to start yoga don’t overstretch: it’s like the medication, you take a big dose and a Herx reaction is sure to follow, so build up to it slowly:), I love the smooth movements and the calming music (neuro damage is very often present in people who fight Lyme disease and overstimulating the senses is often very unpleasant, to say the least).
For all out there who are fighting these nasty diseases and live in pain why too much, if you can, yoga is a pleasant possibility of exercise. Mostly, I wish you the best of health so you can choose for yourself what type of exercise you want to do- no matter how strenuous.
Have a blessed new year full of hope and laughter, both are great medicine for the soul.
God Bless:)
Journey 