Not Just Any Place & Time

“The earth is the LORD's, and the fullness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein.” Psalm 24


Some autumn mornings, I still hear those voices floating through the fields. Familiar songs launching from the prayerful throats of newly surrendered saints. I see them. Copper- fleshed spirits in the sun. I smell old summer’s breath from dying corn rows and dry soil resins.  I peek and there they are! Coming and going through the old rustic barn that castled a select brethren. Each face is still young as if time never escaped us. Before trouble could snake its way into our joy and rob us of what had been given us for a future time. Before we knew that this was an appointment with the Most High God whose nurturing would complete our youth and prepare us for the joys and terror that find us. Prophecy for a later fulfillment.  We were considered crazy, but equally interesting.  Heretical, but forthcoming!

       It was the early days of Jesus folk and this collection of people was a unique mix.
Hippies with a new mission. Barefoot rebels against the religious system, willing to be changed at the risk of looking strange, far out. Fools for Christ. What looked like blind faith was indeed, an unorthodox means of walking on the water and stepping up the first rung toward our eternity. Newly called by the ancient Holy Spirit, the hovering Sword cut through the rough husk of careless sinners, preparing a tablescape for us,  the Lord’s  newborns. From this haunting memory, I saw a fuller picture of how precious it all was.  An unthinkable kind of Amish-like genre was born. We worshiped, befriending all creeds, cultures and  colors. Men took a stand to preach on God’s behalf. Rocking chairs creaked on rotting wood floors while women collectively breast-fed their babies.  It was pleasureable and disconcerting- a blend of favor and rebuke.

           This was “ Light of the World Fellowship”.  A place to begin, grow in and apart from and back again.  A spiritual sobriety of hand-picked spouses who would be grateful for one more name on the church’s cornerstone.

Ecclesiastes 4:10 

“If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!"

Media- Smoking Gun In Disguise

Seems there is double indemnity for Casey Anthony (once again) as there is yet another issue brought against her. Probation that supposedly was erroneously served during her 3 year sentence that stemmed from, not the 1st degree murder charge, but a check fraud offense before it started in 2008.

In spite of the confirmation letter indicating successfully completing the probation, she received a notification from Judge Strickland indicating otherwise. Clerical error or not, the state of Florida has jurisdictionof the issue and must be debated.

So what? Hasn't this astonishing case taken up enough of America's concern and attention? Isn't this a gross parody of lawful procedures? Casey has been handled by artful attorneys that won her an acquital of all murder and abuse charges of her 2/12 year old daughter, Caylee. The child's death never had to be proved, really. The court room theatrics was excercised wtihout bending many rules or causes against her. The shock of not guilty results won her a special treatment due to the inflamed media exposure that placed her in a dangerous position. She had to be hidden and can't freely roam the streets and that has its glitchy benefits as well.

Secrets

Secrets
From jasmine to jonquil
sleep-blessed in night's oil,
all prompt floral fireworks
sprung forth from the soil.
Let memories collect them
like summer-spent hearts
remembering kisses
that August imparts. 

Each woody wind whispers
whose feet trod passed love
then trampled its essence
below and above.
But once Solar offspring's
exposed by day bell,
 beguiled, autumn's left
with things mums dare not tell!

"Memories are ornaments, flowers on the evergreen,fragrant cones emitting secretsonly God knows."

© M.Dianne Berry 2012

Cookies In Her Pocket ( A Unique Custody Case)

**By posting your generous comments directly to this page, you are populating the attention this subject is getting world-wide-- from child advocates to strong media. Won't you please help!**

        Ready for a true story that reads like soap fiction, processes the mind like idiocy, and puts human trust on an animal level?  Let’s just say, that’s an emotionally understated set of questions. I don’t know. You be the judge. ( Names are changed temporarily)

         Twenty five years ago, a young woman turned her life around so that she could have a good husband and build a family. She’s not unlike many of us. Not perfect. Chose partners and husbands for the wrong, but traditional reasons.  The first time, she married young to someone with whom she trusted and it turned out that he was not all she thought he was. Not the knight in shining armor, much less a paternal candidate.  He was a teenager breaking away just like many newly weds of the sixty's and seventy's generation.  After all, Angela came from a happy Catholic family- two great parents while being the ninth of ten children. Though she knew the benefits of a large family, she was one of the babies who grew up wanting to extend the blessings of having one younger... a baby of her own. They tried, but motherhood was not selective for her as she had several miscarriages. The marriage failed.

         Radically, she chose the military for a few years, hopeful of getting a good education and job. As a career, it wasn’t for her. Time went on.  She tried again at marriage with one she truly loved . . . with whom she wanted children.  But after 9 years, and numerous miscarriages, she was heartsick that she was also in the center of her husband’s bizarre maze of bi-polar. With, still, no children, she didn’t want another aimless path. Before she could make a decision, the love of her life left and never returned.

          Angela tried nursing school, and worked with Home Healthcare. It was hard, and she didn't sense a full direction with it.  It was at that time she also decided to drop the idea of searching for Mr. Right and having children for awhile by pursuing a degree in social work, a decision she’s never regretted.   As an ironic plus, she counsels children in the school corporation, which has proven to contribute to her consistently moral and steadfast profile. But time was marching across her biological clock and she became involved with Palmer,  a graduate school educator,  and  she thought this was really it. He seemed to want the same things-- most of all, children. They moved in together and things were all right for about 3 years.  She, on the other hand,  didn’t think about what was about to happen. She couldn’t imagine that, what seemed like a miracle for her, becoming a potential wife as well as a mother, (by adoption) would turn out to be a nightmare locked in Pandora’s box.

             Stung by the grief of unsuccessful marriage, she took a chance with this man as they both signed a contract with a surrogate mother. In spite of Angela’s infertility, Palmer seemed willing to contribute with his own sperm along with the selected  woman's egg to act as surrogate carrier to have the baby he and Angela always desired. Simultaneously, Angela had to formally adopt with the father so that the child could lawfully be theirs- whatever it would take!  The contract indicated that all privileges would be theirs, as long as the child was raised equally by both of them.
             But, almost right after Angela and Palmer took Scarlett home after the birthing,  Angela got the shock of her life. Palmer verbally abused her, saying, in so many words,  that she was nothing to him and, in obscenities, told her to get out. Numb and disillusioned, a host of questions came to her mind. Oh, no! this can’t be another one with mental illness…surely not! What am I doing wrong? Where have I fallen so desperately that I 'd choose such a person--TWICE? 

            Yet sympathetically, she knew Palmer's plight as a child, whose mother directed every important aspect of his and his father's lives-- from the clothes he wore, right down to his choice of friends and lovers. She knew the struggle he must have had in the tender teenage year his parents divorced as he said he didn't remember a single thing of it. She felt sorrow for what was never his own... completely. Even in the signs of violence toward her, she tried to use the health of her own upbringing and great parents to justify her supporting this grown up juvenile whose own childhood must have been denied. Weren't for his high intellect and the understandably ferocious desire to enter the psychology world, he could not have survived what he'd  subsequently pass on. With all these indications of skewed reasoning, she knew she had to side with the health of the issue instead of the reasons for the abuse that produces a domino effect.

            The signs paraded on before her while Angela took the brow beating for as long as she could. Considering that she wanted to raise a child in a happy, healthy environment, she decided to act on all the red flags of abuse by taking their daughter, Scarlett and move. (Goes to show that a Mother's instinct by design, adoptive or not, can still rule!)

           Of course, the law stepped in. And so did chaos. Briefly, let’s just say that the father got his way, pulled the child away from her mother and has custody by using his power in the system to discredit and shamelessly slander Angela in tedious, invalid ways. In the meantime, she senses Palmer‘s reason for secluding the child, hardly ever taking her anywhere with other children or allowing more visits with Angela. When Scarlett stays with her, she observes signs of probable neglect.  She isn‘t always properly dressed for the seasons, (doesn’t have a coat at her father’s home) has seen odd physical reenactments that suggest possible sexual violation. Things she is trained to recognize.  (Her attorneys advised that the alleged implications would be short lived, but to legally hang in there.)


He plays mental games with her all the time while not allowing her more than eight visits a month.  Eight visits! I know there are always two sides to a story, with sometimes esoteric reasons for these oddities. But now that I know both sides and had the information confirmed from other sources, I’ve discerned this to be so pathetic and immoral, that I needed to share it with you readers!

Here’s a newer scoop: Angela’s had two attorneys who decisively dropped her case just because in this particular area of the country, lawmen stick together and, due to Palmer’s social influence and power,  don’t want to rock the boat. She is seeking favorable advocacy, but it is dragging along. She is virtuously waiting it out just so that she is not separated from her daughter completely, praying for someone to take the case before it is too late for the one who had nothing to do with the parents mistakes or father‘s neglect and manipulation!

          How can this happen? Where is there a judge who can rectify that leaving cookies or candy in the bottom of her coat pockets suggest the mother is unfit? Or a blue tongue from breakfast yogurt implying non-nutritive foods, such as cotton candy? (Are you saying "huh" yet?)  That just because she is not in communion with the father and questions his peculiar allotments to see their daughter, it indicates deteriorating mental health on her point? There are more things, but I’m too embarrassed to list them and not vindictive enough to carry on.  The CPS doesn't seem to care. They're still waiting for something to go too far, I suppose.  Long term damage from being held back from her Mother?  Fear of never knowing why she can't be with her? Maybe something life-threatening?

         Who, out there,  is willing to expose the scenario that epidemically places children in a sick environment while their innocence is being pilfered? Are you there, friend? Can you sleep knowing this?

Say no,... and comment. Please and thank you.

2014 UPDATE

          Enough is enough. Angela is  seeing her daughter change and feels more than ever that she needs to spend extra time with her.  She requested, and received, ad litem in order to confidently have the child's interests reviewed. Her home was investigated to see if there was a proper environment for a child, but Angela was put on hold till the father was interviewed.  (As a neighbor, I witnessed this little girl in a lovely, clean,  and eye-appealing home!  I also witnessed  Scarlett's little anger fits, which tells a story that is quite normal in my view. That she, only 7 years old,  is being torn and can't give the struggle a name! Struggling between a happier, more fulfilling activity with her mother, and the only other one she knows by a controlling father.)
         A hearing was scheduled where many witnesses were called to help her in this pursuit to acquire more time with her daughter. I was surprised that, though I knew I was to help her (without discrediting the father's custody) the father's appointed attorney  was asking me questions about Angela's mental health. This  didn't make sense nor did it seem fair to me. But, I suppose in a custody argument, the father's  legal counsel must use some kind of accusatory charge in order to support the father's opposition when there IS NOT A REAL ARGUMENT AS TO WHY SHE SHOULDN'T BE WITH HER MOTHER. If this was the view or questionable position preventing Scarlett from being with her adopted mother, what validates the amount awarded to her at all? Didn't make sense to me!
Results: No more time was given to Angela with her daughter. In fact, the judge ruled to discontinue, after 4 years,  the traditional phone calls that Angela made to start her daughter's day on a happy positive note.
From insult to injury, Angela, a social worker and community's counselor for middle school children, was given suggestion to get therapy to prove her mental capability! What capability? The one she already has or the one that is being contested for fear of not being in the controlling pursuit of her father? Was his home checked out?  
Looks like, she must only rely on her Christian faith and the prayers of others to override the unfair decision brought upon her arrangement as a mother of a child she thought was truly God-sent!
         A hearing was scheduled where many witnesses were called to help her in this pursuit to acquire more time with her daughter. I was surprised that, though I knew I was to help her (without discrediting the father's custody) the father's appointed attorney  was asking me questions about Angela's mental health. This  didn't make sense nor did it seem fair to me. But, I suppose in a custody argument, the father's  legal counsel must use some kind of accusatory charge in order to support the father's opposition when there IS NOT A REAL ARGUMENT AS TO WHY SHE SHOULDN'T BE WITH HER MOTHER. If this was the view or questionable position preventing Scarlett from being with her adopted mother, what validates the amount awarded to her at all? Didn't make sense to me!
Results: No more time was given to Angela with her daughter. In fact, the judge ruled to discontinue, after 4 years,  the traditional phone calls that Angela made to start her daughter's day on a happy positive note.
From insult to injury, Angela, a social worker and community's counselor for middle school children, was given suggestion to get therapy to prove her mental capability! What capability? The one she already has or the one that is being contested for fear of not being in the controlling pursuit of her father? Was his home checked out?  
Looks like, she must only rely on her Christian faith and the prayers of others to override the unfair decision brought upon her arrangement as a mother of a child she thought was truly God-sent!  
         A hearing was scheduled where many witnesses were called to help her in this pursuit to acquire more time with her daughter. I was surprised that, though I knew I was to help her (without discrediting the father's custody) the father's appointed attorney  was asking me questions about Angela's mental health. This  didn't make sense nor did it seem fair to me. But, I suppose in a custody argument, the father's  legal counsel must use some kind of accusatory charge in order to support the father's opposition when there IS NOT A REAL ARGUMENT AS TO WHY SHE SHOULDN'T BE WITH HER MOTHER. If this was the view or questionable position preventing Scarlett from being with her adopted mother, what validates the amount awarded to her at all? Didn't make sense to me!
Results: No more time was given to Angela with her daughter. In fact, the judge ruled to discontinue, after 4 years,  the traditional phone calls that Angela made to start her daughter's day on a happy positive note.
From insult to injury, Angela, a social worker and community's counselor for middle school children, was given suggestion to get therapy to prove her mental capability! What capability? The one she already has or the one that is being contested for fear of not being in the controlling pursuit of her father? Was his home checked out?  
Looks like, she must only rely on her Christian faith and the prayers of others to override the unfair decision brought upon her arrangement as a mother of a child she thought was truly God-sent!  

Us...Just Inside Out

         There is a precipice between you and me. Some of it has little to do with us, but our parents, and theirs before. Who knows how far back and how many combinations of elders rolled the tide that you and I are ebbing? Time is the most warbling and disabling of all factors which inhibit the clarity. But it is equally as adjoining. Like glue affected by the temperature, life's seasons change, melt, distort, yet connect during its changing forms.

        It can disfigure the way we think of one another, yet send us a familiar message--that we are still the embodiment of friendship or whatever we were placed together for! So we float the waves, wait, sink a little, and still... there is a craving to crash into further unfamiliar waters just to love one another. It must have to do with a more than human unseen force which produces these abstract descriptives-these indescribable attributes of being in someone's life with or without purposeful resolve. What do we call this in and out of the human condition and a sometimes misdirected set of principles by which we find destiny? What are we really looking for?

      It's called religion. That obscure intangible belief system that means we are tied into a "higher" plan. A definition from Dictionary.com reads:
"a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, especially when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs."  The practice of this religion is not a solo interlude in fellowship. Churches are places to gather, support one another, and confront or rebuke when or if necessary. 

     Hence, we find God through one another. We see that something or someone is knocking at our subconscious door or we would not be having this conversation. Through others, we KNOW we're not alone. We might differ in the route to the Supreme, but it's obvious we are destined to know ,or, besides politics, why we make such a huff and puff as to which is right or wrong? I call that passion. It's the stuff that fills the already designed space of absence in us.

      Let's face it. We're a mess without some kind of direction. And there is such a beautiful world that only a higher being can put together. Such perfect order- such intent! I say, religion is too overstated in the "can-do" premise. Nobody can be holy. Nobody. The Lion in "The Wizard of Oz" said so! " Not nobody... not NO HOW!" Can't argue with the Lion.

       I don't bombard, but I suggest you and I can at least consider this to be the general truth that we need one another. Then, let's go another step and seek the truth. Pray about it whether you believe something or NOT!  Expect an answer. You wanted a Big Mac at the last Super Bowl and got one, didn't you? You knew where to go to get it, and were satisfied. Why wouldn't there be a Lover of our souls to which He designed all of these things, and give us the tools to learn about it?

      As for me, I am a Christian. I was called by this unseen compelling Creator, or I would never have come to the knowledge and love of Jesus. Yep. Even the calling's got to be from God. (You'll know it when it happens!) We can seek the mountain top experiences, travel to ancient countries, study, compare, discuss, argue, and go to the ends of the earth, but we could NEVER come up with what God did and how He does it. Not NOBODY...NOT NO HOW! 
      For me, religion wasn't enough. I read tarot cards, palms, used astrology, and did everything to help God ( Uh...that was arrogant, eh?) It was very exciting. Sensational, even!  I wasn't puppeted. In a single moment during a read, I just suddenly realized it was either ME running my life with the gamble of eternity, or surrendering to the alleged unseen God. ( Emmanuel- which means "God with us". Jesus Christ.)
It's sequence, not a religion. Born, lived, executed,  resurrected and every drop of blood had a name on it. Our names. Yours, mine, hers, his. Just ask.

    I don't mean to sound smarmy, but Bishop T.D. Jakes said it in the best way I can without gagging someone. I paraphrase. He said he'd rather live like there's a God, die, and find out there isn't one, than  live like there isn't and find out there is! What a horror that would be! Every breath is a second toward the end of this life as we know it. Let's turn inside-out and rid the valley between. Why not rid the religious aspect and pursue a RELATIONSHIP with the Living God? Ask someone now!

Oh, by the way. I'm more like Dorothy than the Lion. She just needed the other to get to where she was going! Sound familiar?

This article was Inspired by fellow writer/comedian, Leslie Silverman, whose following post
created more followers than folks have reunions! Ya' gotta give it a read. (Thanks, Leslie!)
http://relijournal.com/christianity/i-confess-organized-religion-scares-the-hell-out-of-me/