http://crystalfugate.blogspot.com/

I have never been that great at math.  I suppose I just didn’t “get” it.  Fortunately, my dad, who couldn’t read, was a math wiz.  My fondest educational memory was my 5th grade year when he sat down and drilled me on my multiplication.   He drew a multiplication table from my 1’s to my 12’s.  I memorized them all. My parents then bought me a “Mr. Professor” calculator for Christmas.  At first I was thrilled to have a calculator until I realized that Mr. Professor wasn’t a calculator at all but filled with math problem games.  In any case, these tools helped me do well in math for awhile.

I remember feeling so proud and excited the day I passed a math multiplication test.  However, some of my classmates and the teacher were aware that I didn’t do well in math.  One girl even accused me of cheating from her test and told the teacher.  Even though I knew the truth, I couldn’t convince her or the teacher that my dad had helped me.  I felt as if they wanted me to continue to fail.  Eventually my math skills started falling once again as their negativity towards me got “inside” my head.

I’ve been meaning to write this article for awhile now but just like that incident, the negative thinking gets the better of me.  With the negativity “inside” my head, I can’t accomplish much of what I really want to do.  Those phrases like, “Who cares what you have to say?” or “You’re really not that good.” seem to hold me back.  Actually those sayings are pretty friendly compared to a lot of the negative opinions I sometimes have towards myself.

I endured a great deal of verbal abuse in my past. Though I am no longer in the situations of being attacked verbally, those weapons from the abuse are still lodged inside my head. Getting them out of my head is not an easy task.  Some weapons have been lodged in there for many years.  Yet I am determined to get them out someday.

Having a negative attitude and thinking negatively can feel almost like an attack to your own self.  Like the people of my past, I “lie” to myself by stealing my self-confidence and believing that I am not good enough.  So how do you defend yourself from…um…..your Self??

For me, awareness is the key.  There are those around us and even our own selves, who can steal our joy or bring us down, which may not be intentional.  However that negative atmosphere can cause us to lose the confidence in ourselves or even the world around us.  However, just by being “aware” that is happening helps us to see with clearer eyes.

A lot of times I may not take notice of the ”inner” me – what I am really feeling.  I can start feeling angry, bitter, and complain a lot.  The sadness, numbness, or just the refusal to “feel” anything may set in.  When I feel worthless, out of control, or refuse to “feel” anything at all, that’s a hint that the ghosts from my past are haunting my spirit once again.  I have allowed “something” to steal my happiness.

The sweet thing about awareness is realizing that we have choice.  I can choose to let the past control my future and fall into the same routine of being ugly towards myself.  Or I can choose to change my thinking and fight back.  I can choose to believe positive things towards myself such as “I am enough. I don’t have to be perfect.” I can choose to dwell on the positives of life by being grateful for every little aspect of my life.  Unlike my past, I can choose to associate with friends and family who have a positive impact in my life. Or I can be stubborn, like I am most days, and isolate myself. Regardless, I can choose my battles.
I use to believe and was lead to believe that I didn’t have choices.  Like many others in toxic relationships and addictive families, we choose to keep things “calm” on the home front.  We give up our confidence, feelings, needs, and wants just so that there is no trouble stirred up.  Amazingly, we bury those feelings so deep down within that we forget who we are, what we feel, and even what we want. Unfortunately, one of the worst parts about this behavior is that it’s like the gift {pain} that keeps on giving.  Verbal abuse, as with any abuse or negative pattern, can continue on within the family unless someone chooses to change the pattern.

Change can be easy but the willingness to change is the hard part.  We can take comfort though in knowing that we don’t have to take on this battle alone.  That willingness part comes from realizing that we can’t conquer those demons without God’s help.  When we are willing and ready, God will provide the courage, determination, patience, and other stuff we need to change our destructive patterns. All we have to do is ask for His Help.  Remember to think about what you are thinking about by practicing.

Info about Codependency (http://www.coda.org/)

Info about Alanon (http://www.al-anon.alateen.org/english.html)

Negative Thinking + An Unwillingness to Change = Negative Results

cgailfugate@yahoo.com

http://crystalfugate.blogspot.com/

The Gift of Belonging

What’s more important than a Gift?

When I was growing up, I couldn’t wait for Christmas.  Each year seemed longer than the previous one as I looked forward to what Santa left behind under the tree.  The majority of the time I didn’t get the gift I had written to Santa about but that didn’t matter.  At least he had left me something under the tree.

Growing up in poverty can cause Christmas to be a lot less fun when you see the nice gifts that other kids have, not to mention the stress that the parents have to endure. I was blessed to have gifts under the tree on many Christmas mornings.  However, we did have our share of quite a few Christmases where we debated about even decorating as we had no money for gifts or even a wonderful Christmas dinner.

As children, my aunts and uncle, who were a few years older than me, seldom had gifts under the tree.  Homemade Christmas decorations were made from paper, buttons, or whatever else they could find.  A scrawny pine tree that my uncle had dug up served as the centerpiece on a few occasions. Strangely, my Grandma somehow always managed to make delicious Christmas dinner, desserts, rolls, and breads from out of nothing. It was if she had magically whipped them up out of dirt.  I can remember a few times when I went with my aunts and uncle to the Salvation Army in South Jackson, KY.  A ministry would host a Christmas party in a big gymnasium where Santa would be there.  The children of Jackson would sometimes get coats, clothes, toys, and a bag filled with fruit and nuts.

As usual, our stressful times mainly came from school.  Every year at LBJ Elementary, our class had the option of picking names so that the students could give one another presents. What kid doesn’t want a present? Naturally almost all kids wanted to draw names. The name you picked was to remain a “secret” until the day of gift giving.

Of course I always threw my name in the bucket to be picked even though my mom had warned me many times not to draw names.  Fearing her wrath, I waited until a few days before our class gift exchange to tell her the bad news.  A few times the gift I brought was wrapped in white freezer paper or aluminum foil with yellow freezer tape left over from one of our hog killings.  Once I even took a gift in a paper bag. Regardless, I still had to take a gift for the name I had drawn even if my mom made me give away a toy of my own.

Like me, my aunt was warned to never draw names.  My grandparents could barely afford food on the table, so buying some strange kid a gift was definitely out of the question. Yet my aunt could not contain her eagerness one year and she threw her name in the bucket anyway.  When names were drawn, she barely took notice of the name she held.  Besides, she was certain to get a gift. Unfortunately the day of gift exchange came all too quickly.  She had “forgotten” to bring a gift.  As the gifts were passed out to the children, my aunt excitedly opened hers. A baby doll.  Not exactly what she wanted but at least she got a chance to open a gift.  One child sat without a gift.  Tears ran down her face. She was the “forgotten” name that my aunt had picked.  Before the teacher could investigate names, my aunt gave the doll to the “forgotten” girl. My aunt cared less about some doll.  She was just happy being part of a group that opened presents.

The gift of giving is always an important lesson at Christmas, but the gift of belonging is even more important.  It’s not always the gift that we seek but the joy of unwrapping a gift of belonging.

No matter what gift you give or get this Christmas, share the gift of joy and love with others. Help them feel “belonged” even if they are strangers to you.

The precious gift at Christmas is knowing that we belong in God’s family.  Merry Christmas!

cgailfugate@yahoo.com

http://crystalfugate.blogspot.com/

Spinning Out of Control

There they lay, taunting almost giggling at me, were my keys, shinning from the evening sun, in the locked Durango.  What was even more painful yet almost humorous were the backup keys were also locked in there.  Out of control? Uh….just a little!  What I did have control over were my emotions {almost}.  I was visiting with some new Christian friends, so my reaction to my locked up keys was much calmer than had I been alone in a parking lot somewhere. Stay calm, think, and pray for guidance. Most often these are not the steps I usually take.  I react with fear, anxiety, and panic.  On a positive note I was able to call a locksmith, which took him an easy 5 seconds total to break into my car and retrieve the keys.  Unfortunately my locked key incident cost me $70 and a little embarrassment in front of my new friends.

Back in October my doctor started slowly removing me from anti-depressants.  Although there has been an improvement with my weight loss, I find my self drifting back into that emotional roller coaster at times, like putting on old shoes that really don’t fit or feel comfortable anymore. For me, the smallest failure or let down suddenly can become a major drama attack within my own head. The sudden lapse of thinking clearly causes the tears to flow, objects to fly, and a negative attack against my own self.

Like most health problems, depression is not an easy battle. Being out of control of your own emotions can be scarier than having locked keys in the car. Yet just as with anything else that we don’t have control over, we have to seek support and help. This means simply letting go of:

Self-pride and seeing our limits

Shame and admitting we are powerless

Guilt and accepting defeat

Admitting we are powerless is the first step in the 12 step programs and the root of prayer.  Accepting that things our beyond control but knowing that God can help is similar to retrieving the keys out of the locked car. The peace comes from knowing that there is no problem greater than God.  From health problems, job loss, divorce, marriage, having children, traffic jams, and even small issues with locked keys, God has control of all the issues.  Even if God’s time clock is not on our worldly time, He is always right on Time.  When we relax, accept that He’s in control and stop controlling the situation, He will guide us to the next step that needs to be taken.  We don’t have to be perfect or do things perfectly, just be….!

God is more than the locksmith. He is the Key to our peace within.

Serenity Prayer

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.

Never good enough…
I have spent the majority of my life trying to catch up with others.  Here I am, weeks away from being 40, and I still find myself trying to be smart, pretty, spiritual, or just good enough.  If I only I had that certain “thing” that some else seems to have.  I have fought for so long to try to “catch up” and be equal to others so that I would finally feel more lovable, well liked, and accepted towards my own self.
These past “grown up” years, I have spent many hours reading co-dependency books, attending meetings, and listening to motivational speakers.  I have bounced around in a few churches until I finally found a comfortable one.  I even have a few great non-judgmental Christian friends who sometimes mentor and pray with me.  So why do I always come back to this “less than” feeling?
We are told so many times to let go and give it to God.  Turn your life over and accept Christ in your heart. Take it one day at time.  Walk in faith and easy does it.  Why do these answers sound so simple? Probably because in the end, it is.
For me, I could complicate working on the easiest thing like gluing two pieces of paper together. “How much glue? Glue it on the top? What about the middle? What about the bottom? Man, mine’s not as good as yours!” Being the “drama” queen and emotional person that I am at times (which is OK too), I get so caught up that I miss the simplicity of it all.
It’s not always easy for me just to simply turn my problems and will over to God.  For a while, I had a control issue as if I couldn’t trust God.  I often thought that I couldn’t rely on Him as if He would let me down, as others had done.  Even though my trust in God has improved, I still struggle with not wanting to “bother” Him so I’ll just do it on my own.  In my eyes, my problems are not as important nor as of a big concern compared to the worldly problems. I am not as worthy as everyone else.  Thankfully, God doesn’t see it that way.
As I was crying over this issue again today, I remembered my counselor friend helping me in the past. She had me remember the earliest time of having the same inadequate hurtful feelings.  It helps to know that the majority of those less than (unworthiness) and shaming feelings derive from our childhood and can be ‘fixed’.  That part of me, the “wounded child”, sometimes get stuck on situations of the past.  By recalling those times and “feel” those shaming or unworthy feelings, the grown up part of me can console her as if she were my own daughter. With God’s help, I can get back on track in the real world.  I can choose not to live there in the pain anymore and be the “grown up”.  I don’t have to listen to the negative talk anymore.  I have to reprogram those yucky thoughts of criticism which then helps the wounded me be free.
Many recovery groups have a 12 Step programs for over complicators like myself. (http://www.coda.org/tools4recovery/twelve-steps.htm) These steps are simple spiritual concepts. Regardless of what you are going through, God never leaves your side.
We don’t have to live in the pain of the past.  Each moment can be a new beginning and a new love towards our self.

Be Nice to You

I Found Me – Crystal Fugate

cgailfugate@yahoo.com    http://crystalfugate.blogspot.com/

I sat at my table watching the people drift by.  They barely glanced my way.  There were so many wonderful things to look at so why would they take a second look at me.  Those old feelings of shame, embarrassment, and failure began to creep into my soul.  Why did I come here? Was it really that important to share my thoughts and reach out the people passing my way? How foolish I felt compared the other bustling booths at the Honey Festival. What was even more frightening was that it was only Friday night.  I had two more days so sit at this table – two more days to sit and watch the happy families walk on by while I stared aimlessly at them.

The trip to KY had started off bad.  For the first time in my life, I had missed my plane out of Houston and had to sit for nearly two hours for the next flight.  In addition, I was so induced with my mom’s conversation that I missed the Mountain Parkway exit and got lost several times. By the way, why can’t they just add a dang exit for that parkway on the other side of the interstate? No wonder I felt like a failure at this point.

Like a movie preview, memories of my past began to flash within my mind.  My eyes began to water as I recalled them all — memories of never fitting in no matter how hard you tried.  Those same old feelings of never being good enough, smart enough, and always being shuffled to the side as if you never mattered.  I remember wanting to cry out, to have a voice, but it always seemed useless.  No would listen anyway. That was over 20 years ago and here I sat reliving those haunting memories as if they had just happened.

I feared the rejection. Most of all, I feared annoying people, the people of Eastern KY who I have such a compassion and love for.  Perhaps they would think of me as some weird stranger who had no idea about life in the hills of KY.  It has been awhile since I have had to walk up the holler, pack water from the branch, or nearly gotten ran over crossing Main Street in Jackson.  Funny how all that comes back so naturally.  Yet I knew I was here for a reason.  I had something to share.

Well, I am Truly happy that this was not the whole story from my Honey Festival experience. Friday night did start off awkward but by the end of the evening, I couldn’t wait to run to Wal-Mart before it closed.  I just had to have more goodies to give out and improve my booth a little more.  Of course, getting my 4-H corn dog came first!  It tasted even better than I remembered alongside the ice cold Coke!! Coke is our preferred option in Texas over Pepsi.  Sorry Pepsi Lovers!

By Saturday, I was able to sell nearly all of my books, I Found Me, leaving only 4 books left for Sunday.  I also gave out plenty of business cards, stickers, articles, bookmarks, candy, as well as Hugs and promises of prayers to those I met.  The old feelings of rejection and sadness were long replaced with laughter, smiles, and a stronger deep compassion for my hometown.

By the end of the weekend, I felt sad taking down my table and sign.  Yet I knew that I had made an accomplishment.  I had came here to serve as God’s purpose.  In fact, I was able to donate two copies of my book to the Breathitt County Library.  Check them out if you didn’t get a chance to stop by my booth! Perhaps I can attend the Honey Festival again next year!!

Trust God by obey God’s whispering commands, those inner instincts.

http://crystalfugate.blogspot.com/

In the past couple of weeks I have been gearing up for this year’s 2010 Honey Festival in my hometown of Jackson, KY.  In addition to making tote bags, stickers, and a host of other various freebies for my “I Found Me” booth, I had almost forgotten the most important part, Shoes!! If you are like me, I find every excuse I can to purchase some new shoes. Thankfully Payless was having a “buy one, get one half off” sale.  My intent was to get just one pair of comfy shoes since I will being doing lots of walking around the festival. Yet how I could I miss out on a sale like that? My one pair turned into four pair of shoes.  =) Now I am stuck debating which pair to take on my trip back home?

Yet getting a pair of new shoes was never easy to come by when I was growing up.  Getting a second pair would have been unheard of so I think I am making up for lost time! I always hated school shopping with my mom.  Not only did it mean that the summer was over but I had to be dragged to the thrift store or to Wal-Mart to get clothes.  Plus it really didn’t matter what clothing or shoes I liked.  I was stuck with whatever my parents could afford and whatever my mom liked.  Of course there were arguments which I failed miserable at as she would say that when I got my own money, I could buy my own shoes. 

When my dreaded freshman year rolled around I had a few dollars saved up from selling eggs.  Like most early teens, I thought I knew it all! I was going to have a “say so” this year when we went shopping for clothes.  Wal-Mart had just opened up the year before in Jackson.  Everyone flocked to it like a fox in a hen house.  My mom and I went through the same routine just like ever year.  We bickered over the clothes she picked out and I had to try them on anyway.  I hate trying on clothes still to this day!  After coming out of the dressing room, my mom and total strangers would be conversing on whether the clothes fit right or not.  She’d make me turn around several times before I’d have to do it all over again with another outfit.

My feet had grown quite a bit over the summer so it was hard to find shoes at Wal-Mart.  Somehow we got stuck going to a fancier store in Jackson like Rose Brothers or Dawhar’s.  It was there when I first fell in love with shoes.

The year was 1984 and of course Michael Jackson, break dancing, and music videos were HOT!  My cousin Alonzo had a break dancing book and he taught me a few moves.  Naturally, a dancer at heart, I fell in love with break dancing—moon walking, popping and locking and whatever other freaky moves we learned.  Yet in all the videos, the break dancers seem to have “special shoes” that made them look like they were floating.  THOSE shoes were on Sale at the store we were at and I HAD HAD HAD to HAVE them, no matter what!! Unfortunately, the shoes only came in RED.  They had no other colors or styles.  It didn’t matter to me! They were break dancing shoes!  I thought they were the most awesome, coolest shoes ever invented!

Unfortunately, even being on sale they were too expensive for my mom’s taste. I begged and pleaded with her. I even gave her my egg money, which in all honesty, was probably just about $5.  The shoes were a lot more than that! She reminded me that these were the only pair of shoes I could get for the entire year.  I tuned out everything she said and thought she was mean and dumb for not wanting me to get the shoes.  Unfortunately, I got them–bright Red Cloth shoes.  Cloth shoes.  Not ideal for walking in and out of a holler for a whole year in mud, rain, snow, and ice not to mention that the soles were pretty thin as well.  They also didn’t go very well with my school clothes.  I had to wear the RED shoes with Every outfit to school.

Those shoes lasted about a month or two before holes were torn into them from my walking and the rough conditions.  It didn’t matter.  They were my break dancing shoes and MJ would be so proud. My pride would not let me complain much either. Thankfully my Grandma felt some sympathy for me and got me some tennis shoes from the Dollar Store later that year .

What’s the moral of this story? Never buy red shoes? LOL  Nah…!  Sometimes God gives us what we want even if its not good for us.  Sometimes, like my mom, He’s says “Ok…but you will have to live with the consequences.”  

Choose carefully the life you want and the things you want, 

as you most often don’t get a second chance!

http://crystalfugate.blogspot.com/

Grad Gift (Click image to enlarge - Photo submitted)

It’s that time again–Graduation. It’s been a long while since I have been to a graduation – 2005 was the last time I believe. It’s been even a longer time since I graduated but we won’t go there.

Graduation is a sweet yet scary time.  It’s a time for new beginnings, new relationships, and new promises.  As we say so long to our former classmates and head down life’s pathway, we can’t imagine anything more important than graduating.  We can’t imagine that we will ever forget the names of our classmates.  Yet 5 years pass by then another, and we may be surprised to realize that we have drawn a blank to some of our teachers’ and classmates’ names.

What will not be forgotten though is graduation day.  The emotions, the music, what we wore, the family, and maybe even the name of some valedictorians who had a chance to speak will be forever engraved in our mind.

As the Bon Jovi song, “Never Say Good-bye”, so sweetly played on my graduation day at Breathitt High, courtesy to our valedictorian, Missy Ison — OK, I went there –, the graduation memory was officially forever stamped in my heart.  I still get ‘teary’ eyed when I hear that song today. Although life continues on, we will never say good bye to the memories or the emotion of togetherness we felt that graduation day.

My family and I are very proud and happy to celebrate this year’s high school graduate, my cousin Amanda McAdams.  She graduated (with honors) and already has a semester of college hours. She is a natural beauty full of talent, wit, and a sweet personality who I know will accomplish her dreams.

Way to Go, Amanda and the Class of 2010!!

We are so very PROUD of You!!

(Click image to enlarge)

Being Robbed

Have You Been Robbed?

cgailfugate@yahoo.com

http://crystalfugate.blogspot.com/

I recently bought a circular fan as a donation to the gym room at my apartments.  It’s pretty neat that my apartment complex has this small room with a treadmill, exercise bike, and a weight machine. Hey, it’s not a 24-Hour Fitness or anything but the convenience works. Unfortunately, the apartment staff has a tendency to turn the A/C off after hours making the room sometimes unbearable.  The fan I bought was nothing fancy, just something I found at Wal-Mart the other day. After dragging my body to the room yesterday morning before work, I was so mad that I could spit nails–what a site that would be.  The new fan I bought was already gone! The nerve! You know that feeling, the disheartening and anger that someone would actually steal.

Usually it’s not the “things” we are really mad about but the complete lack of respect to robe us of our values. Often we think of material things as the stuff being stolen from us.  However things can be taken away from us almost on a daily basis. 

Have you ever “given” or practically “sold” yourself away? When we give away our rights, privileges, happiness, or settle for less than what we deserve, our peace and joy is robbed right from underneath us.  Unless we have peace inside of who we really are, the money and material things are just duct tape – a temporary fix for happiness.  True, I’d like to win the lottery someday just so I can see if money really does buys me happiness. Yet there are a lot more important things to me than that. 

My heritage, my family, my friends, my beliefs, and my values are priceless!  Those are the things that need to be protected the most.  Its unfortunate that the society we live in today are the thieves – the media, the politicians, the entertainment business, the economy, and even false religious leaders are the ones stealing from us.  We lose a part of ourselves when we become like mindless sheep and abide by what society says who we are or who we ought to be.   Like robots we allow these people to take advantage of our weakness instead of standing up for ourselves.

What’s more disturbing are the innocent young lives that have had their life literally taken away from someone because they were unable to defend themselves.

It breaks my heart to see and hear about those who steal or give away a part of themselves. Often I find myself giving away a part of me, trying to make someone happier or feeling that I am not good enough.  In my past relationship, I had to pay for nearly everything. In a sense, I “paid” to have a relationship and gave away the true me. The true lost is being without the inner peace. So in an odd way, those who steal are being robbed themselves from the inner peace.

Sometimes when I have had things taken from me, I want to seek refuge.  The anger and powerlessness I feel overwhelms me.  Then I am reminded of a couple of Bible verses, Leviticus 19:18 which states “Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against one of your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD” and Romans 12:19 that states “Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord.” God will restore what was lost.

Inner peace…blah, blah, blah…whatever and who cares…right? Well, once you find it and know it well, that inner peace will be your most valuable asset and the one thing you can take with you to the grave.

Re-evaluate Your Values and Protect Them!

http://crystalfugate.blogspot.com/

When I was growing up, election time seemed to be an eventful time in my family.  On occasions I was able to visit the polls as my parents voted.  Since my dad couldn’t read, it was not uncommon for voting volunteers to assist him in the voting booth.  It also was not uncommon to see him and my Grandpa as well as many others drunk (intoxicated) on Election Day.  In fact, everyone I knew was aware that Election Day brought many alcoholics to the polls. As a child, I had no clue that selling your vote was any harm nor given an alcoholic a 5^th of Jim Beam for his vote was illegal.  It all seemed natural to me.  In fact, many of the poor like my family looked forward to Election Day so the electric bill could get paid or groceries bought.  So it doesn’t surprise me that this tradition still continues today except the candidates have graduated from alcohol to pills and other drugs.  It’s very easy for officials and candidates to take advantage of those who are poor, addicts, or just uninformed.

I had nearly forgotten about voting fraud until recently.  Like nearly everyone else in Eastern KY, my mom and many of my family, live in a holler.   The road near her home is Fugate’s Fork Road, a simple 3 mile county dirt road running up the Fugate’s Fork holler at Hardshell. Since it is considered a public road, the Breathitt County officials are responsible to maintain the conditions as well as the safety to travel on the road.

Fugate’s Fork Road has never been in the best of shape, especially in the last year or so. Last year’s flood caused so much damage to the road to where many parts of the road was breaking away plus large trees that had slide into the road. A while back it had gone even to the extreme.  For three weeks the garbage service and mail service was unable to travel up the road. In addition, my mom and many other residents were not able to safely leave Fugate’s Fork for many days.

My family spent countless hours notifying the Breathitt County officials and even the district representatives. Yet their requests were ignored, thrown away, or either simply forgotten about. A staff of one of the officials even made a comment that the road would be fixed if my family voted for him. Naturally I contacted every state representative I could, including the Governor’s office. Fortunately some minor work was done on Fugate’s Fork Road but just enough to quiet the residents for awhile.

All this made me wonder why officials are still able to get elected into office if many of the residents disagree with their leadership. Obviously, people either 1.) Refuse to vote, 2.) Vote out of guilt for friends or family, or 3.) Bribery.

Although voting fraud seems impossible to stop, it’s important that people know the importance of voting.  Nothing will improve in the area if residents continue to sell or give away their right to vote. Nothing will improve in the area if residents don’t stand up for what they believe in.  With what little rights we still have left, it’s not worth selling out or risking jail time to corrupt candidates who obviously care less about you and your community and more about themselves.

DO your part – anonymously report voting fraud to 1-800-328-VOTE (8683)!!!

(Click image to enlarge)

I’m happy to announce that my uncle recently received a liver transplant at the wonderful St. Luke’s in the Houston Medical Center.  He had been on the waiting list for about 7 months so when the call came, we were surprised and thankful. He had went through tedious amounts of tests, blood work, paper work, and other routines just to qualify. Though he was frightened and excited to trade in his old non-working ill liver for a newer one, he was thankful more than anything for the donation from the person who obviously no longer needed it and who was laid to rest.

(Click image to enlarge)

Unfortunately, one of my younger cousins, Ronda, was involved in a tragic motorcycle accident back last year in Campton, KY.   Though she lost her own life, 3 lives were saved because she was an organ donor.  This is a true example on how God can change something so tragic into a wonderful blessing.

We rarely dwell or even like to think about death.  It’s something we hope is an event that is way-way-far off! It can be a scary or depressing topic. On top of that, who even wants to think about what happens to our body parts after the fact? However, preparing for your death should be another item on your task list for life’s ever occurring events.  Since death is an event that none of us can avoid, it’s best to get prepared now instead of leaving the unhappy tasks to our grieving family members. 

There are so many people in America still on that ever long waiting list just hoping and dreaming for a donation of life.  Many still pass on without having the chance or being educated about donating to save a life. Growing up, I heard absurd horror stories about organ donation. Check out some of these organ donation myths at http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/organ-donation/FL00077.  Yet organ donation can be the greatest gift you could ever give to someone….just ask my uncle! Become a donor at: http://www.organdonor.gov/ or call 1-888-ASK-HRSA.

Don’t fear death for God created the cycle of Life.  He made a donation to you so it’s your turn to make a donation of life.