The smell of the stable was ripe. The sheep, donkey, and cows filled the air with their special perfume. The straw was well used and dusty. The stone walls cool from the night air. The screams of child birth filled the ears of the animals. The sudden cry of a new born baby.
A special night for mankind, the most important night, took place in the lowest of places. Who would have thought that the One who would rescue mankind would be placed in a bed of straw? Who would have thought that the Shepherds, who next to the leper, was the lowest on the human scale of class and dignity, would be the first ones the Angels would announce the birth of the King to? Who would have thought that a virgin would give birth to the Savior? Who would have thought?
An uncommon place for an uncommon birth for an uncommon Baby. The Christ Child. The Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End. The Bright and Morning Star. Immanuel, Prince of Peace. Friend. Brother. Savior. God's free gift to mankind.
Enjoy this holiday, but embrace the reason for it. It isn't gifts, Santa, or even being with family. Those are the side benefits. The true reason is to celebrate the One who left Paradise to live among us, show us how to live, and then pay the price we could never pay. The birth of my Friend. The birth of My Savior.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
A Different Christmas Poem
I received this a couple of years ago in an email, still a remarkable poem;
A Different Christmas Poem
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night." "It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
PLEASE, Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S.service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.
LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
A Different Christmas Poem
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night." "It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
PLEASE, Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S.service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.
LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Why I Don't Write Poetry - Part 13
The temperature rises and falls.
My neck is getting tired.
My eyes are bouncing up and down.
Tightness all around.
My mind is all confused,
Can't focus on a single part.
The heart is racing,
Feet start pacing.
I must tell her,
To wear a bra,
Or I'll have a heart attack,
When she does jumping jacks.
My neck is getting tired.
My eyes are bouncing up and down.
Tightness all around.
My mind is all confused,
Can't focus on a single part.
The heart is racing,
Feet start pacing.
I must tell her,
To wear a bra,
Or I'll have a heart attack,
When she does jumping jacks.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Weight Update
At today's weigh-in I passed my 10% goal a month early - lost 6 lbs for a total of 31.4. I'm going shopping for a speedo tonight. Think Victoria Secret needs a male model?
Monday, November 1, 2010
Doris' Day
Ann's new prompt: "Give me a story that uses these five things: Beans, Doris Day, alligator, pillow, verb tenses." This is my take using the Doris Day theme:
The pillow was still warm and smelled of her scent, “Chanel No. 5″ I believe. Once again she leaves me lying here alone, wishing she would stay. I pull on my pajamas and walk to the window. I look at the rain bouncing off the window pane, the street light giving off a golden glow, and her, I watch her walking to her car, a light yellow 1950 Dodge Wayfarer convertible. She pauses at the door and glances up at my window, a faint smile on her lips. The car starts and I can hear the radio playing Doris Day singing “Que Sera, Sera.” How appropriate, “Whatever will be will be.” I stand at that window until her tail lights disappear over the next San Fransisco hill.
I walk into the kitchen and notice she left her alligator overnight bag here. That’s a start, I thought, maybe next time she, and not just her bag, will stay overnight. I place the bag on the blue and yellow Mexican tile, and open the bag. I touch the soft silk I find in there, it feels so much like her. I notice a brown paper bag, I smiled thinking of her drinking her Irish Whiskey out of a paper bag. Inside I find nothing but a bag of pinto beans. That was funny because she couldn’t cook, nor could she boil water, how would she cook this beans. Besides, with what beans does to her, I’d rather she’d leave them on the shelf. I put the sack back into the bag just as I found it and placed the bag back where she left it.
The phone rings, I know it is her at the pay phone three blocks away. “I’m tired of this “Pajama Game” and “Pillow Talk”, we may have to issue a “Storm Warning” but when it’s “April in Paris”, I want to have “Tea for Two” “By The Light Of The Silvery Moon,” because “It’s a Great Feeling” when I’m with you.”
I hang up the phone and unlock the door for her, I guess there will be a light yellow 1950 Dodge Wayfarer convertible sitting outside my flat from now on. Maybe one day we’ll have to trade it for a station wagon. But for now I have to go warm up her pillow.
(I have a 50 Dodge Wayfarer convertible and while looking on-line for parts, I came across a story about a light yellow Wayfarer convertible that Doris Day owned, thus the use of that car and the titles of some of her movies.)
The pillow was still warm and smelled of her scent, “Chanel No. 5″ I believe. Once again she leaves me lying here alone, wishing she would stay. I pull on my pajamas and walk to the window. I look at the rain bouncing off the window pane, the street light giving off a golden glow, and her, I watch her walking to her car, a light yellow 1950 Dodge Wayfarer convertible. She pauses at the door and glances up at my window, a faint smile on her lips. The car starts and I can hear the radio playing Doris Day singing “Que Sera, Sera.” How appropriate, “Whatever will be will be.” I stand at that window until her tail lights disappear over the next San Fransisco hill.
I walk into the kitchen and notice she left her alligator overnight bag here. That’s a start, I thought, maybe next time she, and not just her bag, will stay overnight. I place the bag on the blue and yellow Mexican tile, and open the bag. I touch the soft silk I find in there, it feels so much like her. I notice a brown paper bag, I smiled thinking of her drinking her Irish Whiskey out of a paper bag. Inside I find nothing but a bag of pinto beans. That was funny because she couldn’t cook, nor could she boil water, how would she cook this beans. Besides, with what beans does to her, I’d rather she’d leave them on the shelf. I put the sack back into the bag just as I found it and placed the bag back where she left it.
The phone rings, I know it is her at the pay phone three blocks away. “I’m tired of this “Pajama Game” and “Pillow Talk”, we may have to issue a “Storm Warning” but when it’s “April in Paris”, I want to have “Tea for Two” “By The Light Of The Silvery Moon,” because “It’s a Great Feeling” when I’m with you.”
I hang up the phone and unlock the door for her, I guess there will be a light yellow 1950 Dodge Wayfarer convertible sitting outside my flat from now on. Maybe one day we’ll have to trade it for a station wagon. But for now I have to go warm up her pillow.
(I have a 50 Dodge Wayfarer convertible and while looking on-line for parts, I came across a story about a light yellow Wayfarer convertible that Doris Day owned, thus the use of that car and the titles of some of her movies.)
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Weight Update
Week five: -20.8 lbs total. Zeroing in on the first goal of 10% of beginning weight. And to go along with the weight loss, working out on my Total Gym has increased my flexiblity and strength. Only sixty more pounds to go.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
545 - A Common Sense Article
The following article makes sense to me......this article was written when Reagan was in office or around that time frame, but it is even more true today.
The 545 People Responsible For All Of U.S. Woes
BY Charley Reese(Date of publication unknown)-- -- -
Politicians are the only people in the world who create problems and then campaign against them. Have you ever wondered why, if both the Democrats and the Republicans are against deficits, we have deficits? Have you ever wondered why, if all the politicians are against inflation and high taxes, we have inflation and high taxes?
You and I don't propose a federal budget. The president does. You and I don't have the Constitutional authority to vote on appropriations. The House of Representatives does. You and I don't write the tax code. Congress does. You and I don't set fiscal policy. Congress does. You and I don't control monetary policy. The Federal Reserve Bank does.
One hundred senators, 435 congressmen, one president and nine Supreme Court justices - 545 human beings out of the 235 million - are directly, legally, morally and individually responsible for the domestic problems that plague this country.
I excluded the members of the Federal Reserve Board because that problem was created by the Congress. In 1913, Congress delegated its Constitutional duty to provide a sound currency to a federally chartered but private central bank. I excluded all but the special interests and lobbyists for a sound reason. They have no legal authority. They have no ability to coerce a senator, a congressman or a president to do one cotton-picking thing. I don't care if they offer a politician $1 million dollars in cash. The politician has the power to accept or reject it. No matter what the lobbyist promises, it is the legislation's responsibility to determine how he votes.
A CONFIDENCE CONSPIRACY
Don't you see how the con game that is played on the people by the politicians? Those 545 human beings spend much of their energy convincing you that what they did is not their fault. They cooperate in this common con regardless of party. What separates a politician from a normal human being is an excessive amount of gall. No normal human being would have the gall of Tip O'Neill, who stood up and criticized Ronald Reagan for creating deficits. The president can only propose a budget. He cannot force the Congress to accept it. The Constitution, which is the supreme law of the land, gives sole responsibility to the House of Representatives for originating appropriations and taxes. O'neill is the speaker of the House. He is the leader of the majority party. He and his fellow Democrats, not the president, can approve any budget they want. If the president vetos it, they can pass it over his veto.
REPLACE SCOUNDRELS
It seems inconceivable to me that a nation of 235 million cannot replace 545 people who stand convicted -- by present facts - of incompetence and irresponsibility. I can't think of a single domestic problem, from an unfair tax code to defense overruns, that is not traceable directly to those 545 people. When you fully grasp the plain truth that 545 people exercise power of the federal government, then it must follow that what exists is what they want to exist. If the tax code is unfair, it's because they want it unfair. If the budget is in the red, it's because they want it in the red. If the Marines are in Lebanon, it's because they want them in Lebanon. There are no insoluble government problems. Do not let these 545 people shift the blame to bureaucrats, whom they hire and whose jobs they can abolish; to lobbyists, whose gifts and advice they can reject; to regulators, to whom they give the power to regulate and from whom they can take it.
Above all, do not let them con you into the belief that there exist disembodied mystical forces like "the economy," "inflation" or "politics" that prevent them from doing what they take an oath to do. Those 545 people and they alone are responsible. They and they alone have the power. They and they alone should be held accountable by the people who are their bosses - provided they have the gumption to manage their own employees.
This article was first published by the Orlando Sentinel Star newspaper
The 545 People Responsible For All Of U.S. Woes
BY Charley Reese(Date of publication unknown)-- -- -
Politicians are the only people in the world who create problems and then campaign against them. Have you ever wondered why, if both the Democrats and the Republicans are against deficits, we have deficits? Have you ever wondered why, if all the politicians are against inflation and high taxes, we have inflation and high taxes?
You and I don't propose a federal budget. The president does. You and I don't have the Constitutional authority to vote on appropriations. The House of Representatives does. You and I don't write the tax code. Congress does. You and I don't set fiscal policy. Congress does. You and I don't control monetary policy. The Federal Reserve Bank does.
One hundred senators, 435 congressmen, one president and nine Supreme Court justices - 545 human beings out of the 235 million - are directly, legally, morally and individually responsible for the domestic problems that plague this country.
I excluded the members of the Federal Reserve Board because that problem was created by the Congress. In 1913, Congress delegated its Constitutional duty to provide a sound currency to a federally chartered but private central bank. I excluded all but the special interests and lobbyists for a sound reason. They have no legal authority. They have no ability to coerce a senator, a congressman or a president to do one cotton-picking thing. I don't care if they offer a politician $1 million dollars in cash. The politician has the power to accept or reject it. No matter what the lobbyist promises, it is the legislation's responsibility to determine how he votes.
A CONFIDENCE CONSPIRACY
Don't you see how the con game that is played on the people by the politicians? Those 545 human beings spend much of their energy convincing you that what they did is not their fault. They cooperate in this common con regardless of party. What separates a politician from a normal human being is an excessive amount of gall. No normal human being would have the gall of Tip O'Neill, who stood up and criticized Ronald Reagan for creating deficits. The president can only propose a budget. He cannot force the Congress to accept it. The Constitution, which is the supreme law of the land, gives sole responsibility to the House of Representatives for originating appropriations and taxes. O'neill is the speaker of the House. He is the leader of the majority party. He and his fellow Democrats, not the president, can approve any budget they want. If the president vetos it, they can pass it over his veto.
REPLACE SCOUNDRELS
It seems inconceivable to me that a nation of 235 million cannot replace 545 people who stand convicted -- by present facts - of incompetence and irresponsibility. I can't think of a single domestic problem, from an unfair tax code to defense overruns, that is not traceable directly to those 545 people. When you fully grasp the plain truth that 545 people exercise power of the federal government, then it must follow that what exists is what they want to exist. If the tax code is unfair, it's because they want it unfair. If the budget is in the red, it's because they want it in the red. If the Marines are in Lebanon, it's because they want them in Lebanon. There are no insoluble government problems. Do not let these 545 people shift the blame to bureaucrats, whom they hire and whose jobs they can abolish; to lobbyists, whose gifts and advice they can reject; to regulators, to whom they give the power to regulate and from whom they can take it.
Above all, do not let them con you into the belief that there exist disembodied mystical forces like "the economy," "inflation" or "politics" that prevent them from doing what they take an oath to do. Those 545 people and they alone are responsible. They and they alone have the power. They and they alone should be held accountable by the people who are their bosses - provided they have the gumption to manage their own employees.
This article was first published by the Orlando Sentinel Star newspaper
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