Whose Body is This?

“Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God? You do not belong to yourself, for God bought you with a high price. So you must honor God with your body.” (I Corinthians 6:19,20 NLT)

May I have your attention, please? All the things we do to the bodies we live in do not belong to us–they belong to God!

What! You mean, I shouldn’t have clogged up my lungs with foul-smelling smoke and poisoned them with nicotine? You mean, I shouldn’t have over-eaten for the last forty years all that fried food, desserts, with no vegetables, clogging up my arteries, causing damage to my heart? You mean, I shouldn’t have drank those forty-ounces, and tequila shots, or that fifth of vodka a day, killing off brain cells with drug use and abuse and alcohol? You mean, I shouldn’t have slept with every Tom, Dick and Harry or Mary Jane, Susie, and Sally that I met, forever incorporating a piece of them with everyone I slept with? You mean, I shouldn’t have misused my body to satisfy morbid curiosity by sticking things in places they did not belong? Is that what you mean? Have you identified you, yet in this list of–“I shouldn’t haves?”

Wow! The things we do to our bodies when we don’t understand they are just “on loan” to us while we are here on earth!

Had we known sooner than we discovered, would we have done anything differently? I’d like to think we would. In fact, had I been introduced to The Word and understood that it is the gateway to my relationship with God, sooner–there are a number of things I would not have done when I was younger.

I wouldn’t have started smoking cigarettes and kept up the horrible habit for eighteen years–I’m dealing with the consequences, now.

I wouldn’t have been so insecure about who I was because of things that happened to me that were totally out of my control that I did things I should not have done to my body.

I wouldn’t have been involved with some of the men in past relationships because they did nothing to provoke thoughts of Godly behavior.

This list could go on, but I think the point has been made. When we know better, we should do better. Now, that I know my body doesn’t belong to me–I try harder to take care of it because I realize that it deteriorates naturally with the aging process and it doesn’t need my help to destroy what God is doing in my life.

This is the body I need to house the spirit that God has given to guide me and I will not desecrate the temple in which Holy Spirit lives. After all, this is not my body, it belongs to God!

Thank God for second chances! I now know and do all those things that will hopefully prolong God using me in this body!

When a Godless Society Governs!

To say that our society has forgotten God would be the greatest understatement ever made. We see the results of godlessness, every day in every nation.

Prayer was removed from schools because of a godless woman who thought others praying around her children was an infringement upon their rights. Without prayer and God in our schools–our schools have become the devil’s playground as children get involved in drugs, sexual activity, disrespect of those in authority, and violence against them and others runs rampant, with no end in mind because society says–we should not pray in schools.

With the elimination of prayer, came the elimination of corporal punishment in schools and now that the kids know “no one can touch them” no matter how badly they behave, we have chaos in schools and foolishness with parents who cannot control their children and the teachers are not allowed to control them and we wonder–what happened to academic achievement in the schools? It was beaten up by a godless society that permitted Satan to reign with legal maneuverings and political correctness that has created a slow, but sure eroding of anything that promotes Godly behavior.

Societal outrage over kids getting spanked by their parents has led to kids controlling their parents and no one in our society is safe–from the lack of respect of others–these kids feel. They know and provoke parents into giving up on trying to parent them. Parents are afraid of the legal system and kids are running amuk–violence is on the rise and yet no one looks at the problem for what it is–a Godless society running things and then wondering why we have the problems with kids we have.

When politicians cave and submit to “societal leanings” about sin–we know we’re all in trouble and since those of us who know how God operates, we know that sin is rocking the boat–hence all the troubling events–we are all witnessing.

Chaos, violence, disrespect of all authority, unrest in all the land, fear, hatred and inhumane treatment of other human beings--this is what happens when a Godless society governs!

Father to Sons

June 2013

Dear Sons of Valor,

As I watch your every move, I’m saddened by what I see—the Creation, the image of me—no longer recognizable because of all you wanted to be.

I gave you power to get wealth and you instead chose greed because of your need.

I gave you sons and daughters to be your pride and joy and yet you abused and misused them all, the girls and the boys.

I gave you dominion over all the earth, took it back, and yet reconciled our relationship, but you decided to revile it by ignoring my warnings through all my messengers.

I gave you chance after chance to get it right and take your rightful place in your home and you abandoned that which was given and left them alone.

I gave you opportunities to reach out and build and yet you chose to tear down those walls and tried to rebuild on your own foundation and not that of my Son’s.

I watch you slither and creep among those who wish you nothing but ill-will and I try to speak to your heart, but you tune me out, still.

I watch as you allow your daughters to never understand what a right relationship should be with a man.

I watch your sons go through life angry and hurt because you were not there, your manhood to assert what a real man does.

Time is running out for you to understand, I created you to be the head, not behind, and I need you to be the man, the strong foundation on which family is built to last, providing direction and counsel for all in your home that will last and to do all things with honor and integrity so your children will see what life is meant to be.

Look unto me, if you’re not sure what to do.  My love is unfailing towards you at all times and I am here, just call on me for direction and inspiration and stay in My Word and watch me fulfill all that I promised to you as the man, the head, the priest of his home, walking more like Me, every day!

Your Loving,

Heavenly Father

From Father to Daughters

June 2013

My Darling Daughters,

I have watched you for some time now and my heart grieves for you.  I know it’s not your fault and I know that you have done the best you can, with the life you’ve had.  All of the tragedies you suffered were not part of my plan for you.  My plans for you, were to bring you hope, a bright future, and all the joy and happiness you could handle.

What I have seen is men abusing and using you, making you feel worthless, when you are worthy of love—unconditionally.  Your body—my creation and gift to you—was meant to be cherished, not exploited by the media, fantasies of sick men and even sicker women.  Your body was meant to be beautified and appreciated by all who looked upon you, not detested and scorned.  I have dressed you with a beauty that cannot be found in a tube or a bottle, so why do you feel the need to expose all the parts of you meant to be seen by the wonderful man I had predestined to be yours?

My heart aches for all the pain you have endured at the hands of those who could not possibly know how much destruction they caused when they influenced you to thinking that you are just body parts, not part of a body that was meant to loved.  My heart is heavy every time I see men leer and lust after you when all I wanted was for men to see your beautiful spirit, not your partially clad skin.

Sometimes, I wish I could close my eyes and not see how you have been convinced that your body—my wonderfully, unique creation—is meant to be used as an instrument of torture when men and women stick all manner of objects in you and abuse you for their wicked pleasure.  I cannot bear to see your mouth, meant to praise me, used for the act solely meant for the purpose of procreation.  I cannot bear the pain I know you feel when men prod the parts of you meant to be used as a means of exit, not entrance.  I cannot bear the pain I see in your eyes, when your expectations of finding love are lost in the illusion of sexploits, in the pages of books, on the screens of television and movies, and in the music where you are constantly denigrated by those who have no clue as to how to love you.

Remember this, my darling daughters. I love you and would never use or abuse you because I Am Love and can do nothing else.  Learn to love yourself, as I love you, and watch all the wonderful things I had planned for you, come to pass.

Your Loving,

Heavenly Father

Women’s History Month

Women have made phenomenal strides in the history of the United States as well as internationally, but we still have far to go.  Recently, the President renewed the Violence Against Women Act to provide protections against women (and others) who are being physically, mentally, and sexually abused on a daily basis.  The real question to me is why?  Why do we need an act of Congress to protect people from being abused?  Don’t men know they shouldn’t abuse women, children, and the vulnerable?  And why did Republicans hesitate to approve the legislation?  Is it because they are men who abuse and stand the risk of being accused?  Is it that they do not care about those who are being abused?

Apparently, we won’t get the answers from the Congress of “no” but we can move forward as a nation to make sure that mistreatment of women ceases in every arena.  Women are entitled to a fair salary for the same work as men.  Women should be recognized for all of their accomplishments, not just those who tend to make men look good.  I am not advocating women on the front line (I cannot support that one), but there are men who have used the intellect of women to make forward strides in companies and then refused to acknowledge the women’s contributionsmisc and trapped 010.  This has to stop!  Women are human beings and as such, deserve equal magnanimous treatment proffered to men.

Ladies–take a stand–against abuse, misuse, and mistreatment against everyone, everywhere!  And while you’re at it, read a good book and see if you can find yourself or someone you know in it.  Available at amazon.com, barnesandnoble.com, xlibris.com and books everywhere.  Enjoy the book and excel in life!

Trapped

Current books available on Amazon.com.  When 25K are sold, we’re donating $5K to a women’s shelter.  Your support would be greatly appreciated.  http://www.amazon.com/Mary-M.-Hall-Rayford/e/B00BAW31CQ

Put It Down!

Whatever is keeping you from getting where you want to go, put it down.

Whatever is causing confusion in your home, on your job, or in your community, put it down.

Whatever leads you to think you have a right to take a life, put it down.

Whatever leads you to think you have a right to physically abuse someone else, put it down.

Put down the crack pipe!

Put down the weed!

Put down the cigarette!

Put down the alcohol!

Put down your hand (fist)!

Put down the gun!

Put your ego on the shelf, start listening to those who are wiser than you, and start doing what is right in the sight of God–not you! That is–if you want put down the devil and his evil ways!

 

 

Just One Thing!

If there was just “one” thing you could do to make a difference in the world, what would it be?

Would you feed the hungry?

Would you house the homeless?

Would you establish world peace?

Would you stop all the hatred in the world?

Would you encourage everyone to love one another?

Would you create riches for everyone?

Would you provide a quality education for every child?

Would you abolish gun manufacturing?

Would you create a potion to stop child molestation and abuse?

Would you create a mandate for “parent training” or licensing?

Would you supernaturally find a cure for all terminal diseases?

Would you encourage independent thinking and reward those for their consideration of mankind over personal gain?

Would you create a society of people who understood right and wrong and lived a righteous life?

Would you promote the Gospel of Jesus Christ?

Would you share a testimony as to how good God is?

Would you share this post with others, just to make them “think” about just one thing?

While you’re thinking about that one thing, have a blessed day!

 

 

Brett (Excerpt from “Trapped” Chapter One)

After I got old enough to sit on my own, and then walk and feed myself—people for the most part left me alone.  It was almost as if I wasn’t even there—almost.  I was noticed if I got in someone’s way and shoved to the side.  I was noticed when I cried and sometimes my cries were quickly suppressed by the closest person to me.  I realized early in my life that no one was interested in hearing my voice—for any reason.  This was made abundantly clear when I started talking—the response I heard most was—“shut up!”   My mother tried, I guess to the best of her ability, but she was outnumbered and was not always around to see what was being done to me.  Left at the table unable to get down on my own, locked into the bathroom, unable to leave when I finished doing what I was supposed to do, and left out of feeling loved and wanted—because no one wanted me, not even my mother, I began to think.

As time moved forward and I began to sprout—up and outward—my brothers began to pay more attention to me than they should have.  They began touching me and making me squirm with the comments they made.  I told my sister and she just shrugged it off saying, “That’s the way they are.  They’ll stop sooner or later.”  My sister was three years older than I was so I thought she knew what she was talking about.  It turned out she didn’t.  The boys were all older than us—the oldest one was seven years older than me, the next one was five years older than me and then there was my sister. By the time I was ten—I had been molested by both of my brothers and no one believed me when I tried to tell it.  My sister just rolled her eyes, my mother didn’t have time to hear it, and my daddy—he looked at me real funny-like. Things got so bad; I simply stopped trying to talk and learned how to fight.  I left so many scratches and bite marks on them, they finally left me alone, but there I was—left to think that this is what life on the outside was all about.

Right after I turned twelve another trap was set for me.  My daddy finally noticed me—at least he noticed my budding bosom and started teasing me. At least I thought it was teasing me until he started touching me—telling me how pretty I was and how I was going to have to fight off the boys.  When he said that, I remembered thinking, “I’ve already had to fight off my brothers, how hard could it be?”  I was going to learn.

While Mama was at work one night—she worked two jobs; one during the day and one at night—my daddy decided to play a game with me.  It wasn’t a game that I liked since it involved him touching me and grinning at me.  I remember his eyes clouding over as if someone had turned on a fog machine and the fog lingered in his eyes and his fingers groping me in places where they should never have explored.  He always told me our game was a secret and no one else could know, but I didn’t trust him and I certainly didn’t like his game.  I tried telling my sister, but she just told me shut up and deal with it.  He had played the same game with her.  “And there’s no point in telling Mama,” she warned.  “I tried and she didn’t believe me.”  I found that hard to believe so I tried telling Mama.

“Shush, girl.” She said.  “You know yo daddy didn’t do nothin’.  He was just playin’ around with you.  He’s like that.”  She sighed and went to her room and went to sleep.

For two years, I endured “daddy’s game” until one night he forced himself upon me. I was a big girl, but I couldn’t keep him from entering me and when I screamed—he quickly covered my mouth so tight that I passed out.  I remember drifting off into another world where people wanted me and kept me safe.  When I woke up, the sheets on my bed were bloody and tangled and I screamed, and screamed until my mother came into the room.  All I could do was point and scream.  When she saw the blood, she visibly paled and walked out the room.  I couldn’t believe she just walked out—never attempting to comfort me or to reassure me things would be all right.  Her reaction unnerved me, but I finally got up and went to the bathroom to clean myself—horrified at the thought of my daddy had done to me.  Before I could get out of the bathroom, I heard the sound of pistol shot.  Terrified, at first I could not move, then when I heard my sister scream, I catapulted out the door.  I could not see anyone, but I could hear crying and as I walked down the hallway, I saw my daddy lying in the floor and my mama standing over him with a 45 revolver in her hand.  I didn’t even know we had a gun in the house.  I think she heard my stifled gasp and she turned around.

“I’m sorry.  I should have listened to you a long time ago.  He’ll never touch you again,” she said woodenly, tears streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could change things, but I know that I can’t, but I am truly sorry.” She stood there still holding the gun.  By the time we heard the sirens in the distance, she had already made up her mind.  She turned the gun on herself and pulled the trigger.

 

This excerpt from my latest book, Trapped, will be released by Mid-February through Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, and Xlibris.com.  The book reveals the lives of nine women who feel trapped by circumstances, until they discover a way to overcome.  If you’d like to read more of this fantastic fiction, please stay tuned and don’t be afraid to offer some feedback.  Blessings to you!

 

Promoting Writing

After I got old enough to sit on my own, and then walk and feed myself—people for the most part left me alone.  It was almost as if I wasn’t even there—almost.  I was noticed if I got in someone’s way and shoved to the side.  I was noticed when I cried and sometimes my cries were quickly suppressed by the closest person to me.  I realized early in my life that no one was interested in hearing my voice—for any reason.  This was made abundantly clear when I started talking—the response I heard most was—“shut up!”   My mother tried, I guess to the best of her ability, but she was outnumbered and was not always around to see what was being done to me.  Left at the table unable to get down on my own, locked into the bathroom, unable to leave when I finished doing what I was supposed to do, and left out of feeling loved and wanted—because no one wanted me, not even my mother, I began to think.

As time moved forward and I began to sprout—up and outward—my brothers began to pay more attention to me than they should have.  They began touching me and making me squirm with the comments they made.  I told my sister and she just shrugged it off saying, “That’s the way they are.  They’ll stop sooner or later.”  My sister was three years older than I was so I thought she knew what she was talking about.  It turned out she didn’t.  The boys were all older than us—the oldest one was seven years older than me, the next one was five years older than me and then there was my sister. By the time was ten—I had been molested by both of my brothers and no one believed me when I tried to tell it.  My sister just rolled her eyes, my mother didn’t have time to hear it, and my daddy—he looked me real funny-like. Things got so bad; I simply stopped trying to talk and learned how to fight.  I left so many scratches and bite marks on them, they finally left me alone, but there I was—left to think that this is what life on the outside was all about.

Right after I turned twelve another trap was set for me.  My daddy finally noticed me—at least he noticed my budding bosom and started teasing me. At least I thought it was teasing me until he started touching me—telling me how pretty I was and how I was going to have to fight off the boys.  When he said that, I remembered thinking, “I’ve already had to fight off my brothers, how hard could it be?”  I was going to learn.

While Mama was at work one night—she worked two jobs; one during the day and one at night—my daddy decided to play a game with me.  It wasn’t a game that I liked since it involved him touching me and grinning at me.  I remember his eyes clouding over as if someone had turned on a fog machine and the fog lingered in his eyes and his fingers groping me in places where they should never have explored.  He always told me our game was a secret and no one else could know, but I didn’t trust him and I certainly didn’t like his game.  I tried telling my sister, but she just told me shut up and deal with it.  He had played the same game with her.  “And there’s no point in telling Mama,” she warned.  “I tried and she didn’t believe me.”  I found that hard to believe so I tried telling Mama.

“Shush, girl.” She said.  “You know yo daddy didn’t do nothin’.  He was just playin’ around with you.  He’s like that.”  She sighed and went to her room and went to sleep.

For two years, I endured “daddy’s game” until one night he forced himself upon me. I was a big girl, but I couldn’t keep him from entering me and when I screamed—he quickly covered my mouth so tight that I passed out.  I remember drifting off into another world where people wanted me and kept me safe.  When I woke up, the sheets on my bed were bloody and tangled and I screamed, and screamed until my mother came into the room.  All I could do was point and scream.  When she saw the blood, she visibly paled and walked out the room.  I couldn’t believe she just walked out—never attempting to comfort me or to reassure me things would be all right.  Her reaction unnerved me, but I finally got up and went to the bathroom to clean myself—horrified at the thought of my daddy had done to me.  Before I could get out of the bathroom, I heard the sound of pistol shot.  Terrified, at first I could not move, then when I heard my sister scream, I catapulted out the door.  I could not see anyone, but I could hear crying and as I walked down the hallway, I saw my daddy lying in the floor and my mama standing over him with a 45 revolver in her hand.  I didn’t even know we had a gun in the house.  I think she heard my stifled gasp and she turned around.

“I’m sorry.  I should have listened to you a long time ago.  He’ll never touch you again,” she said woodenly, tears streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could change things, but I know that I can’t, but I am truly sorry.” She stood there still holding the gun.  By the time we heard the sirens in the distance, she had already made up her mind.  She turned the gun on herself and pulled the trigger.

This excerpt from my latest book, Trapped, will be released by Mid-February.  The book reveals the lives of nine women who feel trapped by circumstances, until they discover a way to overcome.  If you’d like to read more of this fantastic fiction, please stay tuned and don’t be afraid to offer some feedback.  Blessings to you!