Real Forgiveness

Forgiveness is not where you continue to remember and acknowledge the act occurred but you forgive the act because this is the "right" thing to do or what God wants you to do. That is a false forgiveness and an ego strategy in which you "take pity" on the other person but you make sure they continue in bondage (as well for you) by never forgetting what happened. True forgiveness is a part of Love, and Love looks past. Love looks past the false to see it itself. When you operate from Love, from true forgiveness, you come from your heart, not from your ego mind which is trying to punish. With true forgiveness you see from a much higher perspective, a heart/God perspective. When we "for give," we are literally giving away all of the anger, resentment, and bitterness around what occurred, and when we do this, we are truly giving away the memory, as if nothing happened.

Why do you wait? You can love God with all of your heart and being, right now. Give yourself over to Him, fully and unconditionally. Do not delay, because you only delay your joy. Without Him, you experience hell. With Him, you are in Heaven. Why would you choose to be dead in hell over a living Heaven?

Make a way for the Lord, cleanse your self now and repent, as we wait upon his arrival.

The Birth of CHRIST IS NEAR!

Cleanse yourself in spirit and ming and soul, shout out praise and jubilee for he is coming!

Be a watcher and point the way! Merry Christmas to all!

How much do you let wordly things influence you life, or govern your thoughts?

Are you a once a week study of the word(Sundays), if so, do you think this to be enough for your salvation, or to stay in his grace?

Would you consider that all Christians should unite?

• You never realize how shallow man made religion is, until you see Jesus, not just as God, but as a person. He is so real, and "religion" is so plastic.

p { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }

After my brother had died, my parents, who were still in shock over the loss, decided it was best that Nonna and I leave. I was young enough to easily forget about Robert, and Nonna was told to go back to the south for 6 months-year. And while she was at it, maybe she could travel to see her family in the deep south and in Italy, as well as France. I was whisked away with Nonna to get my mind off the tragedy. Nonna and I actually did extensive travels during that time. From the hills in south-east Germany, we met up with my uncle, who was a dentist, and worked in his office for a while. (I was 5 at the time.) From there, we traveled through Munich and Austria, to Italy, where I would meet my great aunts, and the rest of the family that lived in that area.

First we ended up in Spilembergo, a nice small town between Venice and Milan. I loved that town. It is famous for its Mosaic school (where they make pictures out of tiny pieces of colored glass.) I loved it, and asked could be enrolled in the school. I was told I had to be older (remember, I was 5 at the time.) I thought, “What did they know?!” I was more creative than most kids are at that age. Much to my chagrin, they wouldn't budge. I told myself, “That's okay...you all just wait! My daddy will come and he'll talk to you.” But when he did come, he never even entertained that idea, and told me that was enough of that. I was crushed. Little did I know that my dad just could not handle me at that time.

I didn't know it at the time, but the guilt of my brother's death hung over dad like a rock. I believe it took everything he had to hold me in his arms. I had not thought about my brother anymore. One night, I overheard them talking in the kitchen, and I got up and listened by the door. “She's a good child—so curious and so loving. She's not asked about him....” I wondered, “Who are they talking about?” Dad answered, “I knew this would be the best thing for her. In time she'll remember. It is best to leave it alone.” I remember my Mutti saying, “Can you believe that we are being accused? That we are responsible?” I wondered, “She holds him responsible? Who were they talking about?” I heard sighs, and the despair broke my heart. I burst into the kitchen and cried out, “Please don't be sad! Bobby is all right!” The shock in their eyes...I felt their pain. As I wrapped my arms around my Pappa and said, “It's my fault he ran out in the street. I couldn't hold on to his hand.” My Pappa held me tight, perhaps to keep me from seeing his tears. He asked me to get off his knee, and I cried, “I'm still here!”

Nonna took me to bed, and I think I cried all night. My parents stayed for two weeks and then they left.

Other things occupied my mind, and Bobby was quickly put on a back-burner again. Nonna and I traveled from Spilembergo to Milan and there the routine continued—eat, sleep, and eat some more.

As you already know, they love to cook and much more than they could comfortably eat. Although I'll admit that I tried (to eat all the food)...until I thought I would puke. I remember thinking to myself, back then, that I did not want to live here during child bearing years, because I would end up cooking for masses and cleaning up afterward...and it would be a never ending process. No, that was not what I wanted to do. I did, however, like the siesta-time after these big meal—everyone had to lay down.

Spaghetti with every meal...I started to despise it. I quickly learned to not sleep too long, because Nonna would give me enough money to get ice cream. I would dance and sing, skipping down the street. Well, that didn't last too long. I dropped the first one and after I got money to get a second one, I schemed up to just get enough money to buy two!!! But, I got caught!

From there we went to visit my real grandmother, Tante Irene. More cheese in meat dishes, bread in everything, salami for breakfast lunch and diner. What happened to oatmeal? That is what I wanted, with some Cinnamon on top. Or a bowl of hot sweet rice! Yuk!!!

Boy, I got so many spankings I thought I never would be able to sit again. Not to worry—I never needed to buy blush either, I had so many hand prints on my face, my cheeks were permanently pink. Tante wore loud perfumes and so much make up, she reminded me of a circus clown. The poor woman worked as a cleaning lady, and she used to clean two 5 story buildings by herself—in high heels!!

Every room she cleaned needed no air freshener. I got to go with her and help. She said, “This girl will work.” I thought, “This is for the birds.”

I asked her one day, as she took her swollen feet out of those shoes, “Why do you wear them?” I never did get an answer...I just got smacked again....twice. “You do not ask such a question. You are a child!” I sputtered, “Damn it, her feet hurt! Wear Tennis shoes!!” then I found myself running into the bedroom, already protecting my backside, holding it with both hands. I found out that that's not such a good idea. A switch on your knuckles hurts worse than on your backside.

Do not think for one minute that we were abused...no sir! I, in fact all of us, deserved every whooping we got. And I'll tell you what...I was sure glad when my siblings arrived. They were more stubborn than I. Can you spell relief? I had a hey-day! Actually several hey-days....

I got to go to Venice, and ride in a gondola, while some Italian sang to me. I didn't feel in the least bit romantic! I was almost 6years old. I wasn't in the mood, but my aunt sure was! Yuk!!

I got to see how they make glass, I'm talking about crystal—beautiful glass. Expensive! I had to be watched, because I was like an elephant running through that place. It was an expensive trip!!!!!

I had never seen a city like Venice...partially submerged like that. I asked if we could buy a fishing rod. I could learn how to catch fish right out of my bedroom window. Oh well. I thought it was a practical idea. “Christella, this is saltwater—the ocean. If you catch a fish, it will be whale. And just like Jonah, he'll pull you and the fishing rod right out of your window, and swallow you whole.” The thought of that was not pleasing. I hated fish smell. But I retorted, “That's okay, because Jonah got spat out. If the whale gets me, he'll spit me out...right back home with my Pappa. “

It became painfully obvious to all it was time to get home. So we did.

I wish all Americans a "Happy 4th of July"

I thank all military personnel for your devoted service past and present.

May God bless YOU and keep us save. The greatest country in the world.

GOD BLESS AMERICA........MY HOME SWEET HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LAND OF THE FREE..HOME OF THE BRAVE. HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY EVERYONE................

Delight in him, daily!

Smile when you see his creations, and his wondrous works.

Smile beacuse he loves us,

Smile because we are his children,

Smile because this is not the END