Family Values – Honor the Family

Jolts of reality struck me like lightning splintering the darkness.

Where did that come from? My thoughts rehashed the discussion of an earlier topic and landed square in the middle of a chat with my son-in-law about the values of family and how honoring heritage has created a distinctive void in current society. The implication of that statement is clouded by a downward directive. Is it only the foundational element of the family who has a right to expect honor?

In a family where alcoholism and greed provide a fundamental source of value a rejected child may feel the need to improve upon or compete with the chosen career of the parent who seems most normal. Or it may involve the child feeling a lack of position and self-confidence? Either way, the pertinent position of power is disrupted by a lack of “honor”.

Applied to current political realities these same words reek of insincerity and bleak renouncement of allegiances. A president who dares to apologize for his position, despite his status and power, the man, elected into office on the ignorance of youth and unskilled voters, disregards the heritage of freedom and liberty in an attempt to force compliance on people who reject social equity for the more realistic notion of equality. Is there justice in the daring acquisition of a position he didn’t deserve, has no right to hold and has disgraced so completely in such a short period of time?

When the implication of family values stands down the heritage of a nation, the fault of irrefutable justice lacks grounds and ceases to be of consequence. Justice in and of itself ceases to exist.

In the same realm of existence, family values cease to hold power when implied upon a fundamental foundation of alcoholism and greed. No matter how significantly applied, when a woman known to consume great amounts of alcohol is allowed continued access to a vehicle and encouraged to get behind the steering wheel, endangering the lives of others, her rights have diminished the right to life of those in her path.

So too, is the application of a president who has destroyed in his first hundred and fifty days the freedom and liberty of a nation. Although many of the laws he’s attempting to enact won’t be in appliance until after the next congressional/senatorial votes are applied, the attempts still exist. His disregard of the wishes of the American people have affected the future generations of this nation, and the world with a negative impact. Liberty is at stake. Are you willing to give it up?

Just as alcoholism and greed can destroy a family, presidential atrophy and insubordination can destroy a nation. Life as we know it is changing and without so much as a sigh, the change we didn’t want will have taken place before we can grasp the reality of our displaced freedoms and destroyed liberty.

Generational application of the lack of values changes the future, eradicates the past, and mutilates social justice. Are you ready to live with the mistakes?

There is an option.

Just as family values are built on the Biblical Principles of a Savior sent down from Heaven, the values of this nation are built on the fundamental principles described in the Constitution of the United States of America, a document founded on Biblical Principles. The American Experiment has succeeded, or at least until 1913 applications of Constitutional Amendments allowing dangerous changes to the foundational document it had succeeded. Even with those changes, the 5000 year leap had continued to improve lives, increase technology, and advance social application, until January 2009.

News Today – Life in an Uproar

I just opened my eyes. The dark and stormy night had me bewitched into thinking I was sleeping. I realized when I opened my eyes that I’d merely been working horizontal. My body feels like I was lumber-jacking. I may have sounded like it last night too. I don’t know where the truck is that hit me last night, but somebody ought to stop that guy from driving.

It isn’t that I had a bad night, it’s this head cold that showed up about the time I arrived home from the Constitution Meeting last night. Speaking of Constitution, I’m thrilled at the response to the Constitution Meetings that are rising up in our community. I was shocked that there are so few women involved in the meeting. Nita and I decided if they try to take away our right to vote, we’ll stop bringing cookies. That should solve the problem of women’s rights!

I’m listening to the radio this morning, Eric Stone chatters up the War in Iraq, while Ty Harmon chips in with comments on Afghanistan. And the talk turns to a plane crash in Amsterdam.

Foreclosures are down in Colorado, already this year. Glaciers in Antarctica are melting faster than previously thought… Could the Arkansas River rise?

The question of the day.

“Will Jaws be a few feet closer to shore?” Eric Stone is highly concerned about the effect of the rising ocean waters on Southeastern Colorado.

And the pillow won. I gave up my blanket and my nice cozy bed, and I’m in here working while the pillow sleeps to prepare for tonight’s wrestling match.

Obama has promised a land of milk and honey, I don’t think I’m following him through Egypt.

The poles are melting and they expect Denver to be beach front property within two years, perhaps I’ll keep that house instead of selling. It’ll be worth more in two years. The world is a snowball on a down hill run, we’re gathering flakes and speeding up.

Jan Verhoeff

(Currently reporting the news as it happened on “Anything Goes” in Lamar, Colorado.)

Pat Palmer invites all to the Pitstop for a Thursday Taco.

40 Something Single Mom

It’s a daring proposition, being a single mom pushing 50. You’d be surprised what a challenge it can be to raise children in these days, with balance, moral values and ethics.  I’ve found the most significant key to raising children is having a sense of humor.

The Coffee Clatter

Faith in God is probably the upper most thing I rely on, but God has a way of sending warnings in humorous forms. Like a few days ago when my son decided to let me know that he’d exchanged addresses with a kid from Korea who wants to be an exchange student. I’m not brave enough to take on another teenager while the boys are BOTH learning how to drive.  Besides, who knows if I’ll be in one town the whole year. I like freedom.

I was proud of my response, I asked how old the kid from Korea is, and where will he stay (we have a two bedroom home). The solution was baffling, “He’ll be staying in my room and I’ll be in Korea staying with his family.”

It took me twenty minutes to calm down his brother who isn’t interested in sharing his room with anyone who doesn’t speak the same language he does, really well. Life moved on after that decision was made.

Then there’s the moment when my son came home covered in smoke. I didn’t have to ask what happened. With his teeth shining from behind the black smoke coated face, he announced, “We set the hay field on fire.”

I listened as he told the tail of how he and his boss set a field on fire while burning a ditch and all the details of their putting it out with the fire department helping out. He wondered if the fire department always brings pop to the victims of a fire. I said, “You mean pop to the arsonists? I doubt it. They probably prefer they not call them in.”

Or more recently, when the boys spent days suffering with chicken pox and hours of their confinement connecting the dots with my highlighter marker. I nearly had a coronary when I saw what they were doing. “Stop, you might get an infection!”

“Mom, we already have one. We’re just having fun.”

Okay, so I’m probably over reacting (although I really did make them stop connecting the dots). Reality says, raising boys through the teen years should be done before you turn fifty. At least, it’s a good idea.

Jan Verhoeff - Daisy Marketing Concepts

But, seriously, being a single mom at 40 something isn’t so bad… I’d do it all again. The worst part is, as they move out… You miss ‘em!

Sunday Crash – Sleeping Off The Night

Most of the time, when you talk about sleeping off the night, it’s a party you’re sleeping off. This wasn’t a party, but I was having fun.

I’ve always liked writing, but this is different. Journaling is like having a party in your PJ’s anytime. I’m surrounded by boys. During the day time, they kind of overwhelm the world with male hormones, the snakes, toads, loud music and often DEADLY stories, and more. But at night, my house gets quiet and I can enjoy some peaceful time with friends.

Internet Friends that is.

I visit blogs, leave messages – write blog posts, and comment on posts they’ve written. Often, I find my favorite times to write are the late night hours or the wee hours of the morning.

Last night, I glanced at the clock after several postings and realized it was 3 AM. My son was wandering through the living room, wondering what I was doing and I had to admit to having tea with The Pioneer Woman.

OMG, his mother was up at 3AM reading The Pioneer Woman and drinking tea (and nibbling on those tasty chocolate tea wafers I got at the grocery). You’d a thought I committed a crime. He couldn’t imagine what a MOM was doing up at 3 AM. I wonder if he doesn’t realize I check email and post on blogs when I go to the pottyin the early mornings? I won’t tell him.

So…

Along comes Sunday afternoon and I’m falling asleep at the keyboard, so… I go lie down to watch a movie. My arm falls asleep under my face and sort of tingles so I really lie down on the couch and I’m out. Three and a half HOURS out. I woke up just in time to take the boys to youth group. It seemed totally unreal that I’d fallen asleep in the daylight and awakened late in the night (okay, not like 6 PM is so late, but… it’s dark).

So, I did the Sunday Crash – what did  you do?

Gold Market UP – Love them sunrises…

Some days greet you with miracles. This morning was one of those mornings. Sunlight filtered through the lace in my living room where golden glow-rays cast dancing shadows on the walls.

I’ve always been particularly fond of sunrises and sunsets, often even write shorts about them, sharing my thoughts and prose with the world. So, what made this one different or special, you might ask.

Well, I’ll tell ya!

Sunrise Gold

A few nights back, I visited my friend Danielle who prepared dinner and interviewed me about an upcoming release and on the way there, I watched the sunset over the prairie. Clear blue skies with a few drifting clouds along the horizon sparked with silver linings were lit up by the gold orb of sun slipping low below the plains. When we awakened the next day, there were gray clouds hovering over and the day never brightened, but this morning that gold orb found its way to the eastern horizon. Scattered silver lined clouds welcomed the sunlight with a display of color fingering its way across a sky of assure blue.

I watched the reflection of this magnificent sunrise this morning while working on Oris George’s Business Cards. The Gold Market is up, my spirit of creativity is working well, and life is good. I’m excited about all the good GOLD marketing available to writers these days. Run by the Coffee Clatter and see what kind of Gold Standard writers expect to see….

If you’re looking for inspiration, go to ACE Writers and see what kinds of inspiration you can come up with.

Bad Hair Days – The Dire Necessity of Overcoming

It’s always the bad hair day that gets the blame, no matter what you accomplish in life, if you’ve had a mishap and failed at some stark necessity of living… You can blame it on a bad hair day.

Such was yesterday.

Dressed for success means fixing my hair – a bit more than just sweeping it off my face, behind my ear or into a ponytail (if it was long enough – which it isn’t right now). So, I showered and dried my hair in the usual way, upside down looking at my knee caps under the towel I wear wrapped and tucked for modesty in an empty bathroom. Okay, perhaps it’s because seeing myself in the miror might be shocking, but the mirror only comes to just below my shoulders, I think I’m safe. But, what if someone walks in?

It’s the weather. I’m certain of it, there must have been a storm coming in that cause my usually well behaved hair to go limp as a biscuit on Sunday afternoon. Seriously, who needs hair anyway? It’s just the covering for the top of your head and looks a bit disheveled unless you’re one of those fortunate few who have all the time perfectly behaving hair. Wait! I don’t know anyone like that.

So, the reality is… my hair misbehaves.

My son suggested I blame the wind. My mother, bless her heart, asked if I’d combed my hair - she’s one of those with perfectly behaving hair all the time women – sports a tube of VO5 and claims it works miracles. UGH! Greasy hair day — oh, definitely I’d rather have a bad hair day.

So, I ask myself, is having a bad hair day enough of an excuse to skip the day all together? Perhaps… I’m thinking I might. Then I realize… Life is going on without me. I can either stay home and bemoan a bad hair day, wishing I could be perfect like… ummm… someone else. Or, I can get out there and play the hand I’ve drawn, for better or worse and make the best of my day.

In the course of the bad hair day, I managed to attend a funeral and comfort friends, experienced the love of friends who said nothing at all about my hair, and inspired another friend with what may possibly be the funniest story he’s ever written. I can’t wait to see the publication.

And today, the wind has come up and is blowing off the shingles, so my hair won’t matter a bit.

Overcoming a bad hair day just simply means you got up and went at it again. Let me part my bangs so I can see where I’m headed today!

Collaboration – A Writer’s Haven

When you have a story you want to write, but it really isn’t a book, what do you do?

Recently some writer friends and I got together to discuss the art of publication and asked that same question. We all have stories written, but some of them just aren’t long enough to stand alone. Those stories have an opportunity to become part of a collaboration of writings by several authors. Usually a collaboration has a single thread for articles submitted, of one kind or another. The most successful ones include writers from a similar genre who move in similar circles of writers. These collaborations include stories of similar length with a sort of continuum between the stories.

Writers feel safe writing for a collaboration because they don’t have to market the whole book, other authors are also marketing the book. It’s a great way to get your name out there and become recognized as a serious writer while pursuing your primary craft.

Writers enjoy hiding out in Collaborations. Next time you pass a bookstore look at a collaboration and see who you find between the covers.

Burning Desire to Succeed – Writer Eulogies

For some really strange and weird reason, the thought of writing a biography errupted through the process of an interview yesterday with Danielle Simone. I’d been considering a biography, simply because there are things about my life that I believe my grandchildren (okay, I only have one now) might want to know at some point. Not because I’m a famous person or because I’m even someone who made a great impact on the planet, I believe I’ve left a relatively small footprint thus far, although, I’ve made a difference. But, rather because I’ve been an integral part of the lives of their parents.

Beyond my own grandchildren, there may be a few who would be interested in the life I’ve lived. Probably a few more who don’t give a rinky-dink about anything I have to say, anything I’ve accomplished, or anything that might have been caused by the fact that I raced time across planet earth, somewhere during the late 1900’s. To those folks, I can only say, you’ll never know what you’ve missed by not knowing me. To those who did know me, I’d want to thank you for making an impact on my life, for the breathless moments you shared with me, and for the breath taking moments we experienced together.

The real reason I’ve been thinking about a biography is that I have noticed successful writers have one that spills out the joy of writing and shares the purpose of their lives. Once joy and purpose are spilled out, success appears. A biography doesn’t have to be long or accomplished to be important, it can be simply a statement of joy and purpose. (I’ve been told, I’m redundant. I disagree.) I want mine to be an expression of the joy I’ve lived, the care and concern I’ve given others, and a gift of love that I can give back to my children and grandchildren.

An Epitat goes on the headstone, and mine should read “A blessing in word, deed, and seed. She has wonderful children.” Of course, it would be best if my ex-husband’s were not asked. I’m most certain they’d have a different epitat for me. Of course, I have a few blessed words for them as well, so if you don’t ask, I won’t tell.

The Eulogy is read after the demise, and most often written by the heirs of the demised (hopefully prior to the reading of the will). This short description of the dash between the years of birth and death leaves those behind with a view of a warm fuzzy person, caring and sharing, and often missed.

The biography, on the other hand, recognizes the importance of life before it is complete. Most often a Biography tells the story of how the person lived, the joy they gave to others, and the purpose of their life. A bio shares the philosophy and the concerns of the person and reveals the attempts at success as well as the achievements. But, more than anything else a biography does, the simple profound fact that a writer has a biography often implies the writer (or person) has accomplished something of value.

The value of a person’s accomplishments may be perceived differently from one person to another. Whether a writer offers great provisions and receives great awards may not be the only determination of value, but it probably has significant impact on their readers. At some point in life, I aspire to receive a pulitzer. The bigger goal is to write for people who read, to share the joy and the purpose of my life and to glean power and prestige for what is good and whole in life.

The Burning Desire to Succeed rests in my daily drive to complete my goal of loving more, giving freely, and sharing the most.

The Write One – Jan Verhoeff Writes

Early in those formative years as I started learning about life, I knew I wanted to write. There was only one solution to my desire to write. It had to be the foundational moment of conception. I’d have to write the real content of my heart.

Words appeal to me.

From the beginning the shape of words, the actual writing of the words meant something. I wasn’t sure what, but I spent hours writing words, one at a time until I got them down just right. I knew I needed to put the words on paper in perfect script. There were times I’d write one word for hours, just working the penmanship and writing that one word until it looked perfect between the lines.

Stringing words together.

After one word became perfect, I’d find another and string them together to formulate a thought. On rare occasions when the words became rhymes or poetic, I’d share them. But more often, I’d simply write them in my journal. I’d write one word at a time in perfect script into my journal, acknowledging the whole value of each stroke of my pen. The words adjoined to make a perfect thought, a sentence with value unto themselves.

Poetic license was born.

During a particularly long winter, I began arranging words around formative thoughts that described my favorite time of year. I’d write one word after another until I’d described the picture in my mind. During this time, words developed function and form, beyond the perfect script of the pen. They became poetic pictures of my life.

Plots thicken and jel.

Once I’d begun to write one scene, the rest of the plots began to jel and thicken in my mind. Delightful events escaped my pen, flying across the paper in words mingled with penmanship, guided by the write one, me. The story became real, living and vivid in words kept in check only by the time to place value between sentences and edged into focus, chiseled by the write one.

Characters were born.

Beyond the scenes, deep in the emotional connection of description, characters breathed life into the story. The write one expanded into creation and gleaned introduction to the spirit of inspiration, allowing the characters to flow, exist and live. The write one knew them. They were born of desire and need. Characters developed where none had lived before.

Daunting danger and mystery arose.

Out of the depths, I wrote the write one with daunting danger. Mystery arose and existed in havens of gilded pleasure and escape. Did the story line appear before the character or is the character living the storyline. Only the write one knows. Only, the write one knows…

Okay – so, I know this is literary prose at its very worst, but… The words escaped my finger tips, drilled into the white screen and appeared before me. I could hit delete… But, the words have a life of their own – and the write one knows.

Honking Geese Encourage the Masses

Encouragement comes in many forms. For me, it’s often the sound of geese honking as they fly over in V formation, to their winter or spring destinations. I never cease to be amazed at the structure and resources God provided nature.

Geese are a True Source of Wealth when you realize their Secret to Prosperity.