Sora Rotariu

Mama lui unchiu Marcel, a plecat la Domnul cu cateva zile dupa sarbatorirea zilei de nasterii de 87 de ani.

La un interval scurt, de numai cateva zile, doua surori deosebite si sotii de pastor au plecat la Domnul. Sora Rotariu, o femeie care a muncit din greu, si-a iubit familia si a slujit Domnului va primi rasplata in ceruri. La fel si sora Hada. Acum se pot odihni, unde durere nu mai exista, problemele pamantesti nu le mai tulbura, si suferinta nu le mai atinge sufletul. Amintirile ne vor coplesi, si le vom duce dorul pentru ca sunt iubite de cei ramasi in urma. Doamne iti multumim ca aceste femei deosebite au umblat o perioada printre noi, si ne-au invatat multe lucruri de pret.

Ne vom revedea intr-o zi dar pana atunci fiecare isi continua destinul lasat de la Dumnezeu aici pe pamant si ne vom aduce aminte cu mare drag de ele.

Multe condoleante familiei si prietenilor apropiati si din partea noastra.

Amin.

Sora Hada, o femeie extraordinara.


Printre miile de oameni care au cunoscut-o și au iubit-o pe sora Iosefina Hada, mă găsesc atât eu cât și Chet. Plecare la Domnul a acestui suflet deosebit este simțită profund de mulți acum iar memoriile acumulate delungul anilor vor rămâne pecetluite în inimile fiecăruia. Mâinile ei darnice au muncit din greu hrănind multe persoane dealungul anilor și personalitatea ei tăcută a ascuns un caracter puternic. Ne rugăm pentru întreaga familie care acum sunt îndurerați și trăim cu speranța că ne vom revedea din nou în ceruri. Amin.

Why did I march in BLM?

As Chet and I began marching along side thousands of silent protesters yesterday, Friday June 12th 2020, here in Seattle, I asked myself one very important questions: Why am I marching?

Fake news is not to be trusted and there’s nothing better than being present and see first hand what’s really happening, historically, in America today. The march was mostly attended by white people, it was peaceful if you exclude some of the hateful signs and the rainy-cold weather was something I could handle. (Due to sound sensitivity the silence was why I could be there and the weather was another plus.) I felt healthy and strong enough to be there, but the other reasons I was there are explained in the sentences below.

There’s two sides to every coin.

Back in 1993, when I stepped foot for the first time on American soil as a legal alien with no rights to vote and an American husband by my side I saw for the second time in my life black people in real life (it was my first time for Asians, Mexicans, Indians and Samoans) and I marveled thinking: I can’t believe how imaginative God can be in his masterful work. I never, not for one second considered myself superior. In fact it may have been the opposite- the communistic propaganda learned over the years does not drop off you just because you stepped across another country’s border- for you see I was tolled by the system, mostly in school, that I was an inferior human being for two reasons: I was a woman and I was a christian. But I digress.

Since that day in 1993 I’ve had many black friends, mostly women, and I loved hanging out with them, seeing nothing but a human being on the other side of my conversation and friendship. I like to give my mother full credit for that. She raised us, the Damean kids, to believe that every human being is God’s child, created equally and equally important. (You see, back during communism times when I was only nine years old or so, my parents hid in our small apartment an African missionary. If caught by the communist party they would’ve faced jail or worse- be put to death. All their christian friends were too afraid to take the poor man in but not my mother. Not my mother! Who I believe to be the strongest human being I’ve even met. She not only took this wonderful man in, fed him and sheltered him, but along the years took many street children in, if only for a day, bathed them, fed them, and clothed them. Her heart always had room for those in need and she saw everyone as God’s children, some marginalized by society.) Thus I grew up, along my siblings, eating at the same table with those rejected by society be that an African man or the poor or the rejected children living on the street. My mother thought us that all people were God’s children and we should take care of them, not harm them. So you see one of the reason for marching it has to do with my upbringing and seeing other people (not color), suffer. I marched because I understand suffering.

Now, time passed since 1993 and about five years ago I was startled by a black man. (It was not his fault. I was suffering the neurological consequences Lyme disease and its complications brought in my life at the time. The poor man apologized deeply even thought he was not in the wrong.) That’s when I also realized for the first time that a part of me was also scared of him, part of that fear was associated with Lyme disease the other part was associated …with what exactly? What changed in me since 1993? I took time and pondered on this, sorting time and memories to find the answer. It came down to two culprits: media and a close American relative who on numerous occasions showed fear and spoke that fear out loud while I was around, warning me of hidden dangers I never thought about.

Loving and recognizing that all of humanity are God’s children created no fear in my heart, but suspicion and prejudice did. I was not aware of the American history on race until I came here and learned it. But the media fueled what once used to be and no longer needed to be repeated. Communism used media to control people’s minds and separate them. By separating us it’s easy to conquer us. So I marched because I refuse to allow the lying media separate us.

Since my future son-in-law is part black this hits even closer to home for us. He’s an extraordinary young man and I see thought his silent eyes some of the struggles he’s had to endure. I also hear loud and clear the grace and forgiveness his heart constantly bestows on those who wronged him. I see God in him, I see Jesus’s example in action. It’s very healing and so human. I marched in the thunderous silence for those wonderful human beings who lost their lives while innocent, or less perfect, because of expressed hatred.

While marching I thought of all those suffering from lyme disease or other horrible illness which leave them disabled and stuck in their bed or behind closed doors too fatigue or ill to march alongside me. I thought of you and your desire to come along if only the frail body would allow it. I like to think I represented you in that march.

Here comes the other side of the coin, the conflicting part within myself.

I do not believe in the politicized version of Black Life Matter movement, you know that part which expresses anger and hate by destroying other people’s hard earned livelihood.

I do not believe in police defunding. Why? They follow orders from higher up; it’s the politicians who give the orders of how the society should be run. If I believe in defunding anyone, and I do, I believe in defunding the crooked politicians with hidden agendas and their megaphone puppets we know as “media”. They are the ones that made me aware of racism, not God. (Here I don’t add the misguided people who speak in the name of God spreading hate meanwhile seriously disconnected from Jesus’s message. For Jesus did’t die on the cross for white, rich people that believe only a certain denomination is “the right one” he died for all, including those who hated him and didn’t believe in him.)

In conclusion, I’m not sure if I helped anyone by writing this blog, or if I’ve simply added to the pile of opinions out there irrelevant in some manner, but I do stand for one thing: All people (be them nice or not) were made in the image of God and all are his children and if every single one of us really believed that we would not have marches of any kind because we’d be too busy living peacefully among ourselves.

God help us see that.

Amen.

From a frustrated mother

My eldest, who’s twenty-four, and my youngest, who’s seventeen, both work in a big grocery store. Since the coronavirus frenzy scare, they’ve been working overtime, loading trucks full of groceries until 4 am some days, only to come home exhausted and do it all over again, day after day, sometimes ten days in a row without break. They’re heroes in my eyes. While some employees refused to come to work for fear of contamination, my boys stepped up and shouldered the burdens of short staffing, high demand and panicked clients who many times are down right rude, entitled and ill behaved. White old women are the worst coming with entitled attitudes and utterly abusive behavior. I’m a tiger mama, and thank God I wasn’t present when they were abusing my children otherwise I would’ve wiped the floors with them.

If you go to groceries, be nice to the staff! They put their own lives and the lives of their families back home in danger every time they show up to work and sell you food or other products. Like all the medical staff, these guys are heroes helping you out! They’re both at risk for contamination and exhaustion. So be nice! If you don’t know how, learn! You old people should know better! Be better examples! (Not all are like that).

Anyway, I think my family had the coronavirus back in January. Chet got so sick I was worried for him and almost took him into emergency when delirium hit his mind. My daughter was also at a scary level of weakness and I had a full house of very ill people for for couple weeks but with God’s help, strong immune systems and lots of at home remedies they overcame. So we’re immune I believe, regardless, I’m asking the rude people who read these lines- be nice! That’s right. Be nice!

Have a good day and don’t forget the ones that serve your entitled selves for they put themselves at risk daily.

There. From a frustrated mother. Have a good one.

Your potential goes beyond your dents.

The rice cooker dish in my soapy hands is full of damaged bumps. As I wash it and plan on replacing it God flashed a piece of understanding to my heart and my eyes shifted their focus.

They no longer focused on the bumps and dents, but at its potential. This bowl has been successfully cooking all sorts of rice recipes for many years, not only that, it’s steamed so many vegetables and I remembered the amazing meals it helped me make, meals that nourished not only our bodies but our souls and spirits, for you see when a belly is full, many good things follow in any person’s life. I saw the future meals we’ll cook together and despite its bends and dents it became valuable to me.

Just because there’s dents and bruises in our lives it does not mean our potential is lost. We’re not the bends and dents, we are the potential around the dents, the potential despite the dents, we are the potential!

Now, the next step is to believe this revelatory information, beginning with myself.

Have a healthy day today and God Bless you and your family. Look up. You’ll be alright.

Coronavirus, We’re Stronger!

Coronavirus,

You’ll end soon and we’ll be nicer to each other as a result, we’ll care more for each other and love more, we’ll have more patience and mercy, we’ll also forgive often, we’ll smile more and giggle often, we’ll inspire others and be inspired by others. We’ll love our children and parents, our friends and strangers. You hear us?

You’ve come to kill and though we’ve lost some precious people they will remain alive through stories of their strength and uniqueness. We were privileged to have had them in our lives.

God did not bring you in this world. Man did. Despite that God walks along us whispering words of comfort to our broken hearts and reminding us we’re not alone during these harsh times. He tells us that we matter!

God’s not trying to teach us a lesson by allowing you on this earth! He never wanted you here! You snaked your evil head in our lives intent on killing yet, God walks ahead of you so his shadow will confuse you more than anything. He’s on our side not yours, washing away our fears, smiling when we rise up and help each other, when we come together in one voice praying. We pray because our humanity is under attack no matter what part of the world you live in.

To the whole world God whispers: You’re stronger than you think you are! You matter! This will pass.

So you see, coronavirus, you will not succeed, you can’t! Not with God on our side! So good by!

The people of the world.

Poezie

Azi am simtit nevoia de a scrie o poezie de imbarbatare pentru cei abatuti de anumite necazuri in viata asta.

Desi nu am expertiza in acest domeniu, sper ca aceasta poezie sa incurajeze pe cine are nevoie de incurajare.

Va doresc o zi binecuvantata in continuare la toti:)

Am auzit ca nu se vede bine poezia, si atunci o scriu aicea:)

Durere,durere, soptesti in tacere

Cu foc si putere in madularele mele

Si sufletu-mi arzi cu-atata durere

Si ochii-mi inalt cu-atata sfiala

Spre cerul de sus, spre pura speranta

Dar cel de sus tace, ma simt far siguranta.

Oh Doamne? Sunt singur? Am nevoie de pace!

Si lumea vorbeste, pe-n dos ma barfeste,

Si vorbele sapa, din plin ma doboara

Si-n urma las urme, adanc ma coboara

Si suflet, is trup, si spirit omoara.

Oh, Doamne vorbeste si de rau tu pazeste

Caci durerea sopteste si multe trezeste

Si pacea mi-o fura, fiinta-mi oboseste

Iar tot ce-i curat si pur ofileste.

Oh Doamne! Ascult! Tu vorbeste!

In lacrima ta presenta mea este

Pe patul de suferinta al meu spirit pazeste

Eu plang langa tine, copilul meu, fireste

Cazut este-acum si tatal sopteste:

Domul, eu adica, al tau pastor este

De nimic lipsa nu vei duce.

Eu te culc in pasunile verzi,

Tot eu te conduc pe api odihnitoare,

Si sufletul-ti trist tot eu il inviorez.

Si cu mult drag eu te calauzesc

pe dreptile cai, datorita Numelui meu.

Si in valea umbrei mortii cand vei umbla

Sa nu te temi, copile, de raul apasat

Ca tot eu sunt langa tine, singur nu vei fi lasat

Iar toiagul si basonul meu te vor ghida.

Eu iti voi intinde o masa bogata

in fata dusmanilor tai,

Si-ti voi unge capul cu undelemn

si cupa tot eu ti-o voi umple,

sa vada cei ce-ti vor raul, ca al tau tata sunt,

de partea ta raman,

pentru ca bunatatea si credinciosia mea

te vor insoti pe tot parcursul vietii tale

si tu loc in casa mea

vei avea cat vor dainui zilele. Amin.

Lyme's sufferers prayer

We are the hosts of utter frightful monsters

who hunt and hurt and spread with rapid glee

Too small to see, too tough to kill, oh me!

And here an now our limited existence,

Must be the grounds of such rebellious resistance?

We cry and hurt, and hurt with such persistence,

but doctors stare and give us no assistance,

and all we want is that our frail existence

be void of pain, but full of sheer emittance

of health and joy but not of coexistence.

My God, how can such lack of balance

exist in tissues? Why so much present malice?

Why are we hunted from within, asks us?

When will these monsters be unmasked?

A cure is all I ask today

I’m not alone in this I say

For such dark monsters our bodies they decay

And we need hope, for that I’ll surely pray. – Carmen McKnight-