A pound of flesh

Good morning! 

*Please forgive the grammatical errors. 

I'm going to tell you a story about someone I've known since eighth grade. I have so many fond memories of her when we were young. In 2020 at the beginning of Covid I went back to my home state of Minnesota to spend time with her. My friend was a mess. A much bigger mess than she led on before I came out. She had a back farmhouse she rented with her now estranged husband who had moved out some months prior to my coming. She had a dog, and a half dozen cats on the property. When arrived at her farmhouse I learned she was months behind in rent since her husband moved out, and her dog and cats were literally going hungry. She had enough cat food to feed one cat, but she had about six of them on her property. It was winter. Not many mice to catch plus all but one were indoor cats. The dog ate whatever my friend ate. My friend worked a full-time job. "Where is your money going?" I asked her. And her response was maddening. She said she was giving all her money to her estranged husband who had left her and moved back in with his parents. Her estranged husband missed his mother taking care of him. He missed her cooking for him. He missed her doing his laundry. He missed her doting on him. Additionally, his mother said if he left his marriage and moved back home mom would buy him a brand-new truck. So, he left his marriage moved back home to mom and dad and as a reward his mom bought him a brand-new truck. This is not a boy we're talking about here. He's a grown man in his late twenties. 

My friend who is twenty years older than her husband met her husband when they both worked for the same trucking company. She was a dispatcher/secretary/bookkeeper, and he was a driver. I did not meet her husband before 2020. I didn't know he was twenty years younger than her. Nonetheless, all the red flags are there right. He's twenty years younger. He thought my friend was going to replace his mommy plus give him the freedom he did not have living with his parents. My friend refused to let him live with her unless they were married. Clearly, neither one of them really took into consideration what this marriage would be (her second, his first) with a twenty-year age difference. 

"Mommy, marriage is hard! My wife is a meanie and expects me to be an adult!" Or so I imagine that's what he said to his mom.

I tried to help my friend best I could. I gave her money to feed her cats. I bought her dog a giant bag of dogfood. I gave her money to help pay her back-rent. When her truck broke down, I gave her money to help fix her truck. A day later her truck was still broken down in the driveway, the landlord came by with a three day or quit notice, and her cats were still going hungry. "What happened to the money I gave you?" I asked.

My friend broke down in tears and loudly wept, "I'm trying to fix my marriage! I booked a luxurious weekend suite at the Four Seasons and (her husband) cancelled on me this morning! Four Seasons won't refund my money because the reservation is for tomorrow!" My friend didn't weep because she felt bad the money I gave her for back rent and pet food was gone. She wept because her husband cancelled on her. I put my foot down. "Surrender your cats. They're hungry. You can't take care of them." I demanded. That day my friend surrendered most of her cats. She could afford one cat but not all of them. I told her to keep feeding her dog dogfood not human food or she'll have to surrender the dog too.

The landlord took my friend and her estranged husband to court after the three days or quit notice. They lost of course. She moved in with a friend. Her estranged husband went back to mom and dad. I went back to California. A voice in my head told me to go back. About two months later I suffered an ischemic stroke. I was still a California resident with California state medical insurance. I'm glad I listened to that voice in my head. Speed it up to December 2024 and guess what my friend is still trying to get her husband back. Even after he took her to court on "abuse" charges because she grabbed his arm during a face-to-face encounter and left a bruise. My friend lost that case too and received a restraining order that day to stay (whatever the legal footage is in MN) away from her estranged husband, his mom and dad, and his parents' house.

Anyone who has ever been married will tell you hire an attorney the moment your spouse leaves the marriage. Depending on state laws she could sue him for marital abandonment plus he still owes money on the rent because his name is on the lease. But my friend didn't hire an attorney. She wanted her husband back. She wanted him to love her like before if he ever loved her at all. She wanted him back so badly she was willing to compete with his mom with cash and prizes. The only person getting everything was him. The only person winning was him. He had two women fighting over him and spoiling him like a King. Late twenties.

Today, my friend's estranged husband is in his mid-thirties and still being taken care of by his mom and dad. He's not disabled or anything. He just likes being taken care of and his mom wants to do it. 

My friend was about 150 pounds overweight then. She is now over 300 pounds easily. Some of it is medical. Most of it is psychological. I mention this because it matters. Self-esteem self-confidence matters and can be hard for some aging women. She's still in Minnesota where well let's be honest not the most health-conscious people there especially among older folks. And I've thought about this for a long time. I've given it serious consideration. I've meditated and prayed on this matter since 2020. Clearly my friend would be so much happier if she just lost the weight. You thought I was going to say Jesus didn't you. ⌣ No, she needs to lose weight that's a given. However, she also needs to hire a legal mediator (an attorney) who will exclude his mom and dad from this legal conversation unless one of them is his lawyer. Legal mediators don't put up with mommy and daddy butting into their case. Mommy and daddy won't be allowed in the room.

I don't like divorce. I get why she wants her husband back. I hated divorcing my husband, but it had to be done or one of us was going to end up on Dateline. In my friend's marriage, I mean, it's obvious she's not going to let her marriage go using common sense. He's not going to file for divorce because abandoning a marriage probably won't award him alimony. A legal mediator though, while my friend might think the mediator will be on her side (and let her think that just to get everyone in the room) in reality that mediator has no stake in the game other than getting couples out his/her office as fast as possible. No one wins with a mediator BUT at least both my friend and her estranged husband might see the light of day on their marriage for the first time ever and the end result is legally binding. It's the same as going before a judge. 

Which is precisely why I will not marry people without lengthy counseling sessions first. I may never marry anyone and I'm okay with that. My conscious is clear. 

I miss my friend. I don't know this person she's become. I'm not strictly talking about her weight although I would be lying if I said, "She's beautiful at any weight". I don't subscribe to that. No, I miss the funny confident happy gal she used to be. Being obese wasn't a symptom of the problem it became the end result of one.

We all need good mental health, or we cease to function like my friend who by the way is a good person at her core but she's emotionally dependent. I will preach it until I am blue in the face be independent at a young age. Leave your mom and dad's house after high school. Get a full-time job doing anything like McDonald's, the gas station/convenience store, hotel housekeeping, waiting tables, whatever earns you an honest paycheck and live alone in a one room apartment with a space heater if that's what it is just live alone for a few years. Pay your own rent. Pay your own bills. Buy your own groceries. Learn how to be alone. Enjoy it! Your own private space. How wonderful! Trust this old gal when I say living alone for a few years after high school (or college) teaches you what kind of person you want to marry. When you do everything on your own taking care of yourself and possibly a pet too you will know in your heart what kind of person you want to marry. You will know in your heart the moment red flags start waving. 

I'm not making excuses for my friend but we Gen X gals were not raised by anyone. We learned from doing. We gave up pounds of flesh to survive. I don't want to see younger generation giving up anything. You guys are pretty darn smart on your own. Smarter than my generation that's for sure. But there are those still out there who want your soul, who want a pound of flesh, who feel that you owe them somehow. Don't trap yourselves. You don't owe anyone anything. If you already know the answer in your gut but want advice from your friends online look you already know what the answer is in your gut. Use gut-wisdom. God bless you.

Get wisdom, get understanding: forget it not; neither decline from the words of my mouth.

-Proverbs 4:5 

Do women hate other women

 Hello! 

*Please forgive the grammatical errors. ⌣

Question: Do women hate other women. 

Answer: Sometimes.

A legal adult female is eighteen years old in my country (USA) so let's start there. From eighteen to thirty years of age women are very competitive with one another for male (or female) attention, employment, marriage, and children. Not necessarily in that order. Men and employment will use this competitive edge to turn women against each other especially men. They do it for sport. Amusement. Possibly ego. From eighteen to thirty years of age most women want husbands and families of their own and are easily baited because of how badly they want something that requires a second person (although less and less as the new younger generations grow up with nonstop advancements in technology priorities change.) But for now...

I firmly believe once Boomer generations and Gen Xers all die off the younger generations will explode with technology that will make being married a relic like dinosaur bones. That's why all the young dancing Priests on TikTok and Elon Musk are pushing women to get married, obey their husbands, and breed. Catholic churches need new parishioners to keep them in power, and Elon Musk needs new wallet holders to keep him wealthy. Any time someone preaches women to get married, obey their husbands, and make babies, they are either trying to sell you something or con you into something that requires a pound of flesh.

As a Lutheran, Church of Sweden, my faith with Christ is mine. Your faith with Christ is yours if you want. I have no need or desire for Priests, AKA men, to "instruct me" how to live. Relationships with Christ is a one-on-one devotion. No Priest, Pope, Bishop, or Deacon will ever come between Christ and me. I support women who want to get married or not get married. Have children or not have children. It's still a free country for now. You do you. 

Jealousy and insecurity are also on the rise especially with woman thirty to fifty years of age especially if there have been setbacks. Additionally, so much is going on with their raging hormones and thought process, their emotions are all over the place at any given time. Aging is setting in. Jealousy is creeping in with, "Why does she have money. Why doesn't she look as old as me. Why is she happy. What does she have that I don't have. (etc.)" And the answer is, why do you care? The Gen X credo is "Meh. So what." Exactly. Why do you care what she's doing. Mind your own business. Work on you. 

I'm content. I've accepted who I am, what I am, my strengths and weaknesses because Christ said to me, "My devoted child, put your woes on me. So long as you keep working on you, I will carry you when you fall." And He has. 

People who are intentionally cruel and intentionally invasive to other people are announcing their malice to the world. They're announcing themselves to Christ for who they really are and will be punished accordingly. One day they will exclaim, "Why is this happening to me?!" Welp, you put this on yourself, dear. Remember that time you invaded someone else's privacy without their consent? Christ abandoned you when you raised a harmful hand against one of his children. Christ doesn't protect those who willfully go against his children. He'll leave you to the wolves. Some people call that Karma. Some people call it the universe balancing itself out. Whatever you believe, fact is whatever you put out there will come back to you tenfold. That's why I'm content. Raise a hand against me, see what happens. I know who has my back. ⌣ (Smile)

When women are intentionally cruel to other women it's 100% done out of fear. They think to themselves, "If I stomp her down it will raise me up." This poor logic was tricked into her head by a man. Only men use trickery when they can't use force. Don't suffer fools, ladies. 

Young gals who are pre-teens and teenagers now will live in a whole new world as thirty and forty-year-old women. Technology will just be amazing. Will robots be able to microwave embryos into healthy babies? I dunno. Dang. Maybe. I mean really who knows. If that isn't reason for men to do better making relationships work with women, I don't know what is. Having a robot raise your children is like, I mean, going out with the boys? "I don't think so Dave."   

Being (almost) 56 years old, I have gone full circle. I am back to the gal I was when I was eighteen years old. Wisdom and exhaustion. Speak only the truth. It's a simple life. I love it. Neither I nor Christ suffer fools. Why should we. Why should you. 

Now, I know I don't live like most women. I'm a minister. I don't wear jewelry anymore. I've been chaste since 2020. Everything I have is replaceable even my prescriptions. My whole life now is devoted to knowledge, my ministry, and Christ. That's it. This is my path until the day I die. I would like to remarry but at my age I've accepted if it doesn't happen. My chosen path has alienated me from friends and family and that's okay. I can't live just to be a source of entertainment for them. That's all I was, entertainment. Proof of that is when I said, "Hey, I'm returning to the church." And they criticized me, made fun of me, and turned their backs on me. But that's okay. I'm happier now than when I was as their "friend". 

In my opinion, acceptance of one's immediate situation can only be achieved through prayer or meditation. To change one's situation for the better can only be achieved through hard work. If you find yourself alone with no one to talk to, talk to yourself. You might be surprised who's listening. ⌣

The more I work at bettering myself, bettering my education, bettering my future, the more I learn how not to suffer fools and that includes other women. I just don't have the time. Perhaps you have a similar method.  

Being an ordained minister I have the power to marry couples. I've only been a minister since October this year but even so, I'm not one of those ministers you can throw $200 at and I'll marry you. I value marriage too much. I have a prerequisite of ten thirty-minute council session every other week for five months before I'll marry anyone. I have to believe in my heart the couple before me is devoted to making their marriage a lifetime commitment to one other. If you need a quickie marriage, there are hundreds of ministers you can toss two hondos at and they'll marry you tomorrow under the 101 freeway. I think in this day and age, young women are not getting married as much because their dogs show them more love, kindness, and affection than any men they've dated. That's on men to do better. These dancing Priests on tiktok need to speak to the fellas. Not pressure the women folk.

I'm always saying now, the best thing a young person can do is find something you enjoy doing, be amazing at it, and use the internet to sell it. Gain your independence first before entering into marriage. Be independent first. Learn how to live alone first. Learn to be self-reliant first. THEN if you meet someone you want to spend a lifetime with, you'll be better equipped making that decision. I'm truly impressed at how young people are using the internet to make millions of dollars. I'm not into money but I'm impressed with their innovation. 

I cannot urge women enough with first being independent for two years (i.e. your own apartment) before entering into any living arrangement with a significant other. Living alone first will teach you what kind of person you can live with. 

And ladies, seriously, just mind your own business. Don't invade other peoples' spaces. You have plenty of self-work to work on. You don't have time to hate other women. You've got a career to work on, and travel, short term goals, long term goals, those movies you want to see, those books you want to read, a few days a month volunteering somewhere, girl you're too busy! God bless you.  

 

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

the courage to change the things I can, 

and the wisdom to know the difference. 

Amen

Choose happy

Good morning! 

* Please forgive the grammatical errors. I'm a writer not an editor. If you understand Dr Seuss, you'll get through reading this just fine. I promise. ⌣

As a Gen X elder, I observe a lot of anger among my single male peers, among the single Boomer male generation as well. Anger. So much anger. I see it in older women also but not nearly as much. Granted this anger could be caused by early stages of mental decline, or perhaps mental disturbances in need of psychiatric help. Regardless I focus on my generation (and older) for the simple fact that we're too old for angst or having midlife crises. This anger is something more serious. The common denominator being that these men are single.

As a divorced (almost) 56-year-old woman, sure it can sometimes suck being alone but those moment are too few and too far in between to have a grain of the anger I observe in men. With one man I'm acquaintance with he wants me to be as angry as him and the fact that I'm not just makes him angrier. How are you not angry?! Well, it's simple. I keep myself busy with activities I love. Among other things, I love to knit. I love to read my Bible, pray, and study religions. I love movies. I love keeping up on new technologies. I love learning about science and medicine. I also love learning about bees, etc. I don't have time to be angry, nor would I allow that type of unnecessary stress into my life on a daily basis. Being angry is a choice. Being happy is a choice too. And while it is a free country, what benefits are you truly receiving with a choice of being angry?

Why do I care that so many men are angry? Because angry men elect other angry men into political offices who have the power to make other people suffer needlessly. "I want others to hurt like I hurt!" Misery loves company. Wanting other people to hurt is a loud cry for help. It's like stalking, harassing, or any other types of behavior that hurt other people especially women. Ah! And there we have it, no?

Hurting women, hurting LGBTQ, hurting children, hurting animals, hurting any living being is a loud cry for help. It is a loud cry that they themselves have suffered for a long time. "I want you to hurt like I hurt!" I know people think it's entitlement that makes men behave this way but (and this is just my opinion) these men are in excruciating pain. They feel their masculinity is being taken away from them because of sexual decline, perhaps a decline of employment, additionally age and death are scary facts of life for men. 

Mothers are to boys what fathers are to daughters. Mothers and fathers lay the first layer of concrete to a person's foundation. How stable a person grows depends on the concrete. Gen Xers fended for ourselves from the moment we could walk. There's no reason for any Gen Xer to not be able to make themselves happy at 60, 70, or 80. Regarding Boomers, the only one I really got to know and love died in 2023 shortly after his mother died. Let me tell you a little story about my dearly departed friend Sheldon.

I met Sheldon around 1994. I was in my mid 20's. He was in his late 40's. A mutual friend introduced us and because Sheldon and I had so much in common from our love of travel, going to rock concerts, exploring new eateries, red wine, art museums, etc., we became fast friends. I got to know his family, friends, business associates, one of his cousins was my attorney after a car accident. Speed it up to 2001 I met a man, fell madly in love and got married 2002. I tried keeping Sheldon in my life. I introduced him to my then fiancée, but Sheldon just wasn't having it. He didn't want anything to do with my husband. My (ex)husband is a Swede and if you know anything about Swedish people, they're doers not talkers. When Sheldon made it loud and clear to both my husband and I that he wanted nothing to do with my husband or a married me, my husband just shrugged it off. I, however, was upset by Sheldon's decision. It really hurt me. My getting married hurt him. In return, he was going to hurt me by taking his friendship away. So be it. I was married for almost ten years. During that time Sheldon made another female friend he had nothing in common with he said. They both needed to eat. That was all they had in common he later told me. In 2012 while getting divorced Sheldon and I renewed our friendship. It was as if no time had passed. Then Sheldon's mother suddenly died. In 2014 Sheldon had to have a pacemaker put in. During this time my own dad was battling cancer. For the next few years, I went into hyper "nurse" mode. I babied Sheldon hard. Literally from the time he woke up until he went to bed, I was babying him on top of having a full-time job and a father dying of cancer. By 2017 my father had died. I desperately need to work on myself. Sheldon said, "Go. Do what you need to do. Take your time." Which I thought was an odd thing to say but I appreciated his understanding I wasn't going to be around as much. Speed it up to 2020 and Covid. No one was working. Everything shut down. Sheldon assumed I would come live with him. He assumed wrong. He was struggling in my absence he said. "Struggling how? You're a grown man." I said. More words were exchanged but the bulk of his problems were that no one was there to care for him and his housekeeper was a "useless old woman" who didn't care for him like I did when I had gone into nurse mode. Sheldon assumed nurse mode was going to last forever. He thought I was going to baby him forever now that his mother was gone. I said no. I told Sheldon he can take care of himself which was true. He had a pacemaker, yes, but other than that he no life-threatening illnesses. He would have told me if it meant my babying him some more. We got into a huge fight over it. Three years later Sheldon died. I now take prescriptions for hypertension, cholesterol, thyroid, diabetes, and low dose aspirin for my heart. Back in 2020 Sheldon was taking the same prescriptions. He died because without me babying him, without his mother cooking for him, he just ate cheeseburgers, pizzas, pastas, sausages, every day for three years, and drank himself into cardiac arrest death. 

I believe people should die the best way they see fit. It's not my job to raise your children. It's not my job to see that you get into Heaven. It's not my job to babysit you because you're too lazy to do for yourself what most of the world, especially women, do for themselves every day. It's not my job. Sheldon had the free will to eat better. He had the free will to exercise. He had the free will to talk to his doctors about how he can improve his health, even his mental health. He had the free will to do so, and so do you, and so do I.

Men being angry because they have to do things to make themselves happy is no excuse. Blaming others, blaming women for your lack of happiness is a guaranteed way to fail in life. 

I've known men over the years who own their own homes, have a steady income, have their health, own a car and can drive themselves, 100% self-reliant, but instead of feeling joy for their hard work and success, instead of finding excitement trying something new to meet women when their current method is unsuccessful, they rather be angry instead. No one, and I do mean no one, is going to find a man fun, or interesting, or enjoyable to be around when he's too busy waiting for someone else to make him happy. Women can smell that dependency a mile away.

Being a happy person is intoxicating to be around. Being genuinely grateful for life and all that you have like water to drink, food to eat, a roof over your head, means of transportation, clothes on your back, people who call you and check in on you, etc., being happy, mindful, and feeling blessed for these wonderful gifts of life is an automatic lure. Who doesn't, at the very least on a social level, want to be around a genuinely calm peaceful happy person.

Sheldon complained constantly about the new female friend he made after I got married, who remained his friend when he and I reconnected our friendship. He complained she only did things on a superficial self-serving level. She would only call him on her way home from work because she wanted the company while she was stuck in traffic. Instead of seeing this as quality time phone conversations, he chose to be upset by it time after time, after time.

Women handle being alone better than men because men have taught us how to be alone. Reread that if you need to.

Men have taught women how to be alone and then get angry that women prefer being alone. Reread that if you need to.

Having long term anger is a choice.  If you have a roof over your head, food to eat, clothes on your back, an income, means of Transporation, means of independence, you have no reason to be in a perpetual state of anger. None. "Then why can't I find a woman to love me?!" Go ahead reread this entire blog as many times as you need to understand why. God bless.

Our Father, which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy Name. 

Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, As it is in heaven. 

Give us this day our daily bread.

 And forgive us our trespasses, 

As we forgive them that trespass against us. 

And lead us not into temptation, But deliver us from evil. 

For thine is the kingdom, The power, and the glory, 

For ever and ever. 

Amen.

Greetings! An introduction is in order.

Good morning! Welcome.

* Please forgive the grammatical errors. I'm a writer not an editor. If you understand Dr Seuss, you'll get through this fine. 

An introduction. A little history about the gal typing these words out. My name Is Lisa Koo. I'm a non-denominational ordained minister as of October 2024.

There’s so much to catch up on but we’ll take it all in stride. First, I should mention I’m a protestant, Lutheran. I grew up Lutheran thanks to my sainted grandmother Louise. My dad (from Utah, naturally) was raised devout Mormon. His then wife Vickie, not my biological mom, was raised Lutheran. Grandma Louise is Vickie’s mom. My dad and Vickie met serving in the Air Force. To put it mildly, Dad was a bit of scoundrel in the Air Force and as a civilian, but we’ll get into that later and as time goes on. 

I did not have a good relationship with Vickie growing up. She was extremely unstable and abusive to everyone and for some reason we all took it for many years, but I absolutely adored Grandma Louise. She played organ in her church. She had a large garden. She loved art. She bought me paint-by-numbers in hopes I would get into painting. In the summers I would paint on Grandma Louise’s porch with her little white dog, Taffy, at my feet as she pruned her flower garden. I was so happy. Grandma Louise was everything I wanted in a female role model. Although widowed young, Grandma Louise was calm, creative, and a joy to be around. She was extremely fashionable. She had outfits for every occasion. She wore stylish hats. She wore stylish gloves when she left the house. She wore a different pair of leather gloves for driving, of course. She loved Sunday drives after church. She drove a white Cadillac. Grandma Louise believed ladies ought to look like ladies. It was a different time then. I just adored this beautiful, charming lady. My grandma was widowed and never remarried. Never dated. She loved her husband until the day she died. This deeply affected me. 

My relationship with Grandma Louise strengthened from just a holiday-grandma to every-weekend grandma after what I call “a visitation” or “a sudden awareness” if you prefer. I was about seven years old when the “sudden awareness” happened. The next morning (short story version) I marched up to my dad and Vickie and demanded to know why we didn’t go to church. My parents decided to raise my brothers and I non-religious. I’m now 55 years old. 56 in January 2025. Back in the 70’s parents didn’t talk to their children; they reacted to their children. In response to my demanding query about church my parents sent me to Grandma Louise every weekend thereafter for Sunday school, group, church, and a few summers in Bible camp. In all honesty I couldn’t have been happier. And since I was one of those kids who loved to read, I was in absolute Heaven with all the Biblical books grandma Louise gave me over the years. Life with Grandma Louise was so peaceful. We truly saw ourselves in each other. I saw the woman I hoped to one day be. Grandma Louise saw the little girl she once was. But then, as with all great tragic love stories, bitterness and jealousy would invade our happiness and tear us apart.

When I was twelve years old Grandma Louise had asked my dad and Vickie if I could come live with her full time. Grandma Louise plead her case to my parents. I was happy with Grandma Louise. We got along perfectly. I would get the education I wanted and who better to mentor me in receiving it. Grandma Louise even offered to finance my college after graduating high school. My dad thought it was a wonderful idea. He appreciated the offer and was grateful for Grandma Louise’s kindness and generosity. But Vickie, she was infuriated. She felt spited. “Why didn’t you make the same offer to me?! Why didn’t you love me this way?! I’m your daughter not her!” Vickie’s spite and jealousy tore my relationship with grandma Louise apart. The last tearful conversation I had with Grandma Louise she said, “Try to make the best out of a bad situation, sweetheart. It’s what your father’s doing.” And just like that, Grandma Louise went back to being only a holiday-grandma. I didn’t know until years later that Grandma Louise proposed I come live with her. Grandma Louise wanted to surprise me not thinking my parents would actually turn down her offer. My dad was the one who told me years later when I was in my 20’s during a heartfelt father-daughter phone call. Back then however Vickie told me the reason for Grandma Louise returned to a holiday-grandma was because she had grown sick of me. But I knew better. “Try to make the best out of a bad situation, sweetheart. It’s what your father’s doing.” Grandma told me.

I can still recall words exchanged between Grandma Louise and my dad when I was little. Grandma Louise would scold dad, “You know where babies come from. You did this to yourself.” I myself have said those exact same words to both men and women over the years. After Vickie tore Grandma Louise and I apart I became extremely resentful and rebellious. I was twelve years old now and only getting older. I was out of the Lutheran church. Strayed from the flock as they say or rather held back from joining the flock. Vickie was no longer able to physically abuse me, but she was still my legal guardian until I turned eighteen. She was a skinny woman maybe 100 pounds. Her only exercise was occasionally sweeping and mopping the floors plus she smoked two packs a day and had started a drinking problem. By the time I turned thirteen years old the mere sight of Vickie ruined my day and I let her know it, loudly. I later learned my dad had a mistress back then with whom he bought a second house and had started a second family. Vickie knew. Dad told her apparently. But Vickie told my dad she wasn’t going anywhere. So, whether dad thought it was a good idea that I live with Grandma Louise because he was thinking of my well-being or his, I will never know. Either way dad should have stood up for me, or so I then thought.

I knew about dad’s mistress but not the house and kids. He eventually divorced Vickie and married his mistress when I was seventeen years old. I didn’t know about his other kids however until dad died in 2015 and his widow mentioned it in his Legacy announcement. Talk about shocking, but then again, knowing dad, maybe not so much. I still to this day have never met dad’s other children who would be around my age.

And for all this, back then, from the time I was thirteen until I was fifteen years old, there was no living with Vickie in peace. I’m sure I contributed to her drinking problem. “I’m afraid of her!” Vickie screamed at my dad, meaning me. So rather than sending me to live with Grandma Louise, dad sent me to live with a Catholic family. Well, they were ceremonial Catholics, I call them. Sunday-Easter-Christmas Catholics. Private school, Catholics. Pretty, well-dressed, Johnny Walker highballs at noon, Catholics. I was the only one who read a Bible and prayed in that house. From fifteen to eighteen years old I lived with this family and for a brief, very brief moment in time I considered serving the Catholic church for the rest of my life. I eventually came to my senses of course. In the 80’s the Catholic church to me was what social media is to kids today. The Catholic church held a flashy fascination over me. I was hypnotized by the opulence and grandeur of it all. And then a few years later, by the time I turned eighteen, I was reminded of why I loved Lutheranism so much... baptism, communion, reading my Bible and praying, is how I receive oneness with Christ. Immediately after taking a second look around with eyes wide open, I was disgusted by the Catholic church’s opulence and grandeur of it all. Glitter and glam, how phony. Now, please keep in mind this is where I stand. This is the hill I will die on. Too many wars, all started by men I might add, have broken out between Catholics and Protestants. I personally do not care what your denomination or non-denomination is. First and foremost, are you a compassionate, patient, aware, considerate and mindful human being? That’s what I care about more than anything else. Character matters first. Live and let live. All things in moderation. Good health. Balance. The ten commandments which really doesn’t need to be Biblical. You know what’s right and wrong. You know. 

Kids today are smarter than my generation ever was. Case in point, how many under 30 millionaires are there in America today? Know how many there were in my generation, NONE. Kidding. There may have been a few who inherited.

In my 20’s, 30’s, and 40’s I stepped away from the church. I married a man who wasn’t religious, but everything looked great on paper. I am divorced. I would like to remarry one day.

In my 50’s I have been called back to the Lutheran church. Funny thing about being a protestant, the Catholics scream, the non-religious scream and I’m just over here silently peacefully, doing my thing. But I’m compelled by a nagging resoluteness to do more, be more, and since I’m a better reader and writer than entertainer, here we are. Not everything here is about religion. Some things are especially when Catholics scream, I am compelled to reply. I once lived among a community of Catholics for a short period of time and that was plenty. The purpose of starting my website this way is to let you, dear reader, know I came from a very broken home but, I have lived a long time and through experience, Christ and prayer, I am more cerebral than rightist, to hear you and perhaps give advice if you care to listen. 

I’m also from Minnesota and say things like, “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”

Interestingly enough, even though dad and his mistress, Caroline, were both married when they started their affair and family way back in the 80’s, Caroline is Catholic (not sure what kind of Catholic, hmm?) therefor dad converted to Catholicism as well. That was a deal, let me tell you. But it made dad happy, so I did my part to see to his happiness. I could be bitter, sure. I could scream, "Why didn’t you stand up for me when I needed you!” But then I would be no better than Vickie and look how her life turned out. She died alone in 2023 of lung cancer. For the whole of her adult life, she refused to believe cigarettes gave you cancer. Even in the hospital on her deathbed she fought with doctors and screamed she didn’t have lung cancer it must be something else. "Now cure me! Earn your diplomas!"

I believe life happens the way it's supposed to. You endure pain and suffering as you do because it is the only way to prepare you for what lies ahead, good or bad, life or death, yours or someone close to you. I believe I lived the way I lived to better serve others. I believe that is what Christ chose for me back when I was seven years old. I believe Christ gave me a solid foundation and then made certain I went out into the world and experience the things I have so that I may come back to Him mentally armed and ready to serve Him and those lost to Him. Make no mistake, I have no interest preaching you into joining the church. I have no interest dancing or cleverly performing for you in hopes of seducing you into joining the church. I serve Christ. That is my calling. And He told me, “Talk to the people. Let your words be their choice to read or not read, hear or not hear. Be an option. Talk to the people.” I have my opinions, philosophies, and Faith. I don’t know everything, nor will I ever claim to. I am a servant and pupil of this earthly world for Christ. I believe humans are individuals with individual needs and rightly so. Let’s hear a Catholic say that! I like giving Catholics ribbing from time-to-time. God knows Catholics rib Protestants every gosh-dang chance they get. In fact, I’ll end this intro blog with my first Catholic ribbing:

Catholics, especially Catholic priests, don’t worship the Virgin Mary. (Big sigh. Here we go!) God’s Adam was sinful, disobedient, and unworthy to be His son. God then chose the Virgin vessel Mary who was pure and without sin to birth into the world God’s true son Jesus Christ, and then... Virgin Mary was cast aside.

As we say in Minnesota, what the serious heck?  Use Virgin Mary and cast her aside?! Heck no you didn't!

Mary was just God’s breeder according to, I’m guessing, at least 90% of Catholic men. Aaand that’s all you really need to know about these dancing Catholic priests on Tik Tok, ladies.

There are Catholics who do worship Virgin Mary. I suspect because they had strong powerful moms and/or sisters, God bless them!

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is

with thee; blessed art thou among

 

women and blessed is the fruit of thy

womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of 

God, pray for us sinners, now and at 

the hour of our death. Amen.