Now More Than Ever
As Heaven And Angels Sing.

Now More Than Ever
Glory Be To The NewBorn King.

Now More Than Ever
My Faith Is Tested Like Never Before.

My World Is Full Of Such Horrific Sorrow
As I Embark On This Next New Endeavor.

As Friends Become Foes
And As Family Becomes The Enemy.

God’s Enduring Love
Must Be Our Enduring Legacy.

What Will I Do
When The Devil Is At My Door?

Will I Stand By My Convictions
Or Will I Corrow In The Corner?

Is All Religion Based Upon Fear
As My Glorious Christmastime Comes Near?

Or Is All Of Fear Itself Wholly And Whole
A Lack Of Religion and Quite Severe?

As We Only Have Fear Itself To Fear
Let Us Fear Not - Because God Is Truly Here.

It Is Our Faith That Will Indeed Help Us Cope
As We Enter This Season Of Perpetual Hope.

As World War Three Is On My Horizon
Freedom Lovers Must Now Not Frighten.

As Our Enemies Have Already Prepared Their Battleships
We Really Need To Dust Off Our Own Crumbling Airstrips.

Liberty Itself Is Once Again At Risk
As Each Generation Sadly Must Fight For It.

Lives Will Always Be Lost In The Name Of Freedom
We Cannot Know It Only By Visiting A Historic Museum.

Now More Than Ever Before In Our Lives And Not Discreetly
We Fight For Those Freedoms Or We Will Lose Them Completely.
Those Liberties That We Hold So Dear
Will Slip Away With The Passing Of Each Year.

Even If Churches Are Still Closed
And If Only We Could See Him Transposed.
God Is Truly On Our Side
Just Look Up To Those Heavenly Skies.

Now More Than Ever
He Is Right There In The Twinkling Stars.
Listen For The Cry Of Angels
As The Hover Over The Little Wooden Manger.

Maybe Belief Doesn’t Belong Inside A Building After All.
And Maybe Now More Than Ever
God Is Standing Straight And Tall.

Maybe We Just Simply Need To Follow Him
And Maybe Jesus Is Much Bigger Than We All Could Ever Realize.
As He Is The Only True God
Ignore Everybody Else In All Their Camouflage Disguise.

Now More Than Ever 
False Gods Are On Every Corner.
Now More Than Ever 
We Hear Them So We Don’t Get Bothered.

By The One True God Which Is The Only Way.
And That Route Is Harder Than All the Others
Which Will Eventually All Wither And Decay.

Now More Than Ever
The Harder Choice Is The Right One.
Now More Than Ever
Being With My God Is Like Living On The Run.

But Don’t Run My Dears
As You Don’t Have To Flee.
Live The Life Jesus Died For Without Fear
As You Stay Humble And Stay Free.

And Let Us Honor Our Country's Founding Fighters
As We Brush Past All The Messy Distraction and Fodder.
Follow The Christmas Star As It Gets Brighter.
As We Live For That Heavenly Father.

Now More Than Ever In Solidarity With Those Who Died For Our Very Freedom
May We Honor Their Bravery And Courage Under Fire 
And Their Ultimate Sacrifice As Their Day Did Indeed Come.

Now More Than Ever And With Every Single Day
At This Very Time And In This Very Place.
In The Name Of Freedom I Shall Live
With Courage Of My Very Own For Goodness Sakes.

Because The Devil Is Here My Friends
And He’s Shining Just As Bright
He Is Fighting Too
And He’s Doing It With All His Might.

Look Away For A Second And You May Be Distracted By His Light.
As The Situation Each Day Continues To Be Dire And Full of Fright.

Looking Down At Our Phones
And Not In Each Other's Eyes.
It’s So Very Very Easy
To Fall For The Devil's Lies.

And As The World Tries To Take My God Away From Me
Now More Than Ever I WIll Never Ever Let That Be.

Now More Than Ever 
As Christmas Day Is Here
I Will Stand Atop The Hills
And I Will Shout Loud And Clear.

Our God Is Here And He Is Within You I Shall Say
Behold Seekers All The Tidings Of Great Joy.

As Now More Than Ever
I Will Hold Fast And Stay Forever True
To My Freedom And My Religion
And To My Red, White, And Very Blue.~

​

Faith can move mountains, right?

Well, if that’s the case… then faith can lift your house right on up off the ground too, right?

Sure. Yeah, right. I guess so. Whatever you say…

But no joke guys, I think, and believe, it can. Faith can do it all. Faith can move anything. Including your house.

Faith has all the power. Faith holds all the cards. Faith can allow one to complete seemingly impossible undertakings, and surpass insurmountable feats.

And what were these past two years... if not - one big, gigantic feat?

Looking back, boy, what a time to be alive...

If there’s one way to express my feelings on these past two years, it is this:


In order to persevere...  I must have a Foundation of Faith. 

And that foundation, even though it might be floating up in the sky(?) is what has kept me grounded, and sane, during life’s tough challenges.

Would it make any sense to you if I told you right now that I am living my very best life? Literally - right now. Every single day.

Throughout this pandemic. Throughout the ups and downs of the coronavirus, the surges and down dips in deaths and hospitalizations and body counts. Throughout global strife, this year, and last. International relations at their very worst in my lifetime. National relations also-the same.

Despite everything that has happened, and everything that is going on, and maybe even everything that is still to come. I am still living my very best life, each and every day. And I attribute that fact to one reason, and one reason only - my faith.

And there’s no doubt that this year, and last, have presented some very difficult circumstances, both externally, and internally. Personally, and professionally. Nationally and internationally.

There are actually far too many of said circumstances and challenges to name here, and nor do I want to name them, each and all. But these challenges and obstacles and pure blockades, were, and are, beyond overwhelming. And I blow my own damn mind each and every day with my ability to maneuver around them.

It took me a very long while, but I have come to believe, and actually understand and comprehend, that a solid foundation is exactly what is needed during life's hardest and harshest moments. And it is that foundation of faith, and my faith alone, that gets me through each day. 

That statement is so very true for me and I genuinely believe it. And in my eyes, it is simply and purely because when things get tough, and when things are looking down, and when you find yourself falling into a deep and dark and despairingly black hole, you actually can’t fall too far… IF you have a solid foundation. Because on your way down, you’ll reach the concrete floor of your home’s foundational base. And it’s that foundation that will catch you, and stop you, from burrowing further into the cold and dark earth underneath, during your time of depression or sorrow - a time of sadness, and pain.

And whether, when I lived up in Illinois, and my home’s foundation was literally below ground, in a basement. Or, now that I live in Florida, and the ground here is too wet and springy and bubbly and swampy for my foundation to be below ground, and thus a basement here being very hard to come by... The foundation of my house is currently at grade. But either way, I still have a foundation. Its depth is just a bit different than I was used to all my life, previous to living in the South.

And that little engineering and structural design and home construction fact got me to thinking...

There were moments this year in which I could barely function. I could barely move forward. And I could barely even drink water.

There were times I couldn’t even swallow. Not even coffee.

There were equally bad times last year. I’m still not over it all. Nor will I ever forget all that has happened and occurred on my watch.

Life is hard.

And it always will be.

But our responses, and reactions, and perseverance, and - our foundation - of our very faith in God, is what will carry us forward. 

And UP.

​

And whether I stand up on my very own, or God has to drag me by my soft and fuzzy dog paw patterned fleece pajamas on out of bed, pull me up onto my feet, and drag me into the kitchen kicking and screaming to make the morning coffee - either way - I’m going to keep going. Heck, even if God has to lift not just me out of bed, but my whole freaking GD house off the ground, either way, and some way or another, God is going to get me going. And God is going to keep me going.

I tend to think that sometimes he does literally just that. I’m still stuck in bed. And won’t move. God gives me a boost or two. He tells me it's time to get up. It’s time to get ready for work. It’s time to go, CHRISTINE!

And when I still won’t move, and can’t even comprehend starting another day of life, that’s when God offers one more bribe. He tells me we can grab some Starbucks on the way to work. A venti hot latte, coming my way… if only, I will start another day.

And when THAT doesn’t work - you know I’m in a bad place. I’ve never met a Starbucks I can resist. 

So it is then that God knows I am in the depths of despair (as Anne Shirley of Green Gables once said).

When a coffee bribe won’t work.

That’s when God really has his work cut out for him.

He knows that his Christine Pieper is doing pretty bad. Turning down a drink from her favorite barista. That’s the measurement of true despair.

He then says, the freaking heck with this.

And He, instead of dragging me out of bed by my feet, decides something stronger is necessary to get me going. He knows pulling me, myself, won’t do it just today.

So He decides to pick up my entire house - by its foundation. He rips it on out of the ground. And He carries me, and lifts me with helium and colored balloons, house included, over to my place of employment. I’m dropped off in the parking lot, with a smack on my butt for my misbehavior at that.

Funny thing…

I walk on into work…

Dragging these ridiculous looking balloons behind me.

?

I punch the time clock.

Coworkers completely disturbed by all the helium floating along beside me.

And I start my workday. In utter and pure protest. Disgust at the thought of surviving yet another shift. Is this what success looks like?

​

I absolutely LOVE my work...

But I can hardly move a muscle or bone inside my body.

I always thought that having a solid foundation was imperative to success and achievement. Whether that achievement being going for the Olympic Gold, or dragging your sad and sorry behind out of bed in the morning and brushing your teeth. I’ve discussed with you many times before about that solid foundation and how imperative it truly is.

And that foundation is a rock. It’s solid. It has to be. And the other requirement, or so I thought, was that it has to be deep. And it has to be so strong as to compete with and support the weight of the world and Earth’s rotational axis and gravity itself to keep it from drifting away into the abyss.

​

But - maybe, just maybe - I have been thinking all wrong, this entire time. About that said foundation.

I’ve done a lot this year. And last. All throughout COVID. I’ve accomplished more than I ever dreamed or could possibly imagine doing. All through challenge and hardship. And all because of my light and airy and flowing Foundation of Faith.

I let God do the work for me. I watched as my foundation of faith was set free from the ground. No longer locked deep into the basement up in Illinois; unglued from its at-grade base here in Florida.

As I floated around in the sky. All these past two years of Covid. Here and there. Near and Far. Blowing around in the wind. Spinning and dizzy. With delight. Or delirium? Swirling around in the sky.

Up and down.

And upside down.

My foundation was NOT solid and rock heavy as I thought it needed to be. My foundation was light… and airy. It has become so very light that one could stick a helium balloon or two on top of that silly little house… and the whole gosh darn home would lift entirely off the ground. Setting sail on a wild and ridiculous ride. God blowing it in the wind. Only He - controlling the direction of flight.

​

And that’s exactly what the heck happened to me. And I’ve been sitting in a helium balloon filled house, flowing around in the wind, these entire past two years.

I’ve done NOTHING - on my own.

And I’ve done EVERYTHING - through God.

Nearly two years ago now I went back to work. But being without work for roughly a decade, it was a huge decision and obviously a life altering moment in time for me.

As they say... I did not come to the decision lightly. In fact, it was such a big decision, I relied solely on God to help me with the choice I ultimately made.

God guided me in that decision to leave the home. And I have come to know, only through my now vast experience in conversations and coffee dates with God, that my best decisions in life are the ones I make with Him… The ones where we sit and chat over a latte while listening to cafe music in the background. We hear the steam of the espresso machine as it drowns out the voices of others - all in equally important conversation amongst themselves.

And those decisions are potentially made in the blink of an eye. The snap of my finger. With the force of wind going through me so very strong that I nearly vomit. 

One minute - I’m chilling with God at Starbucks.

The very next - I’m at home, curled up into a ball, on the floor of my home. The thought of throwing up too very much to control. Agonizing. Nauseous.

Next minute - I’m in the bathroom - head in front of the toilet.  Awaiting the uncontrollable reaction that I know is coming next.

Would it make any sense to you at all if I told you the very best decisions I have ever made in my life are the ones where I want to vomit at the thought of the choice I need to make? And just after conversing with God on the subject matter?

I did a lot of research, and I prepared myself as best as possible.

How to go back to work after ten years? 

How did I do it? 

Or, after that initial choice, how do I change jobs, or career paths, once again? How to keep going? After starting work, all over, once again? Being in a land, now so foreign to me, I might have well been standing at the South Pole on day one of orientation.

How to rejoin the workforce after so much had been changed in my absence? After all, just think of the technological improvements in the last ten to fifteen years, let alone the societal changes as well.

Where the term “onboarding” is now known to all who work and get hired? What in the heck is an onboard, anyway? And most importantly, is it something I can use for surfing?

I am asked of my pronouns.

She/Her.

And they are proudly displayed upon a bulletin board, or in the employee break room.

I’ve never been asked that in my life. And it’s always at work now where I’m asked. I’ve even been offered buttons to wear. I can proudly display my She, if I choose to.

Do workers today have more protections afforded them? And perks, and shiny, little specks of bling thrown at them to get them in the door, and seem to actually be treated as human beings by their employers? 

When I stopped working, I was not even wanted by my employer at the time. And I do think that was me personally. I’m not saying all employers are not actually wanting of their employees, but I do know I personally, felt extremely unappreciated. 

I was way overworked, way stressed out, had a mere one second of vacation time per year, and was just expected to suck it all up, and work harder and harder. And my salary could not afford me even a studio apartment near my employer. All for what? 

There was no enticement. There was no bonus. A raise at the exact rate of the cost of living adjustment - each year - and that basically meant my pay would stay the same every year of my employment. No real increase in relation to my job and skills and profession. No real raise based upon my performance. My individual circumstances were not ever taken into consideration. 

And I worked hard and harder. 

And ultimately, I ended up getting sick… and sicker...

Until the day I was too sick to work at all.

I lost my job.

Years later - 

I was officially defined as disabled by the federal government.

Disease without cure, that which would ultimately end in death and inability to work for the future of my life on this Earth.

There was no cure to what ailed me. So says my doctors, and the United States of America.

And I had to accept that fact to move on with my life. 

We’ve talked about my journey through chronic pain before, and the purpose of this post is not to re-discuss it here and now. But what is important today is - WHY. And HOW.

Why?


Why did I have the opportunity to go back to work?

Because faith can move mountains?

No.

But kinda.

HOW?

How - Because… faith lifted my very house up off the ground… and took me with it, and threw me into working once again.

I’ve accomplished more in these past five years since God saved my life, and the past two years of work, than probably all my other years of breathing, combined.

And it’s all attributable to my Foundation of Faith.

I was sick. And I was sicker. I was so very sick I did not know how to go on. With life. At all.

I felt 95 years old.

And I was in my 30’s.

I couldn’t get out of bed. I couldn’t brush my teeth. I couldn’t put on some simple clothes and walk out the front door. And I couldn’t interact within society. Because I couldn’t even move. 

My foundation was solid. And heavy. And that’s what I thought was the right kind of foundation to have. 

But, I couldn’t move even if I tried... I was bolted to the floor.

However, little did I know at the time, a miracle was brewing.

Deep down in the underneathness of the earth, the swampy ground, far under where all of the alligators and snakes and cockroaches live, cause - Florida - that foundation began to move.

First it bubbled - like a spring. Disney Springs to be exact.

It bubbled until it shook itself clean off the ground.

And God decided to lift my entire freaking house, foundation included, off that wet ground. And pulled it on up into the sky. Taking me with it. Whether I wanted to go for a ride, or not.

I had no idea what was happening to me…

And.

I had no choice in the matter.

Because God did all the work for me.

And at the worst part of it all is that, I didn’t even know that God was doing all the work. He was hidden, you see, above all the balloons I was looking up at.

So, as I pondered before:

Does any of this make any sense to you?

I have come to believe that if this does not make sense to you… simply close your eyes. And then, let God make the next decision for you and your life. And afterwards, open your eyes back up, and you’ll probably understand what I’m trying to say to you here.

And if this DOES make sense to you right now… Keep on keepin’ on.

Because that rock solid foundation I told you about all along. The one so solid and hard and deeply buried in the wet or cold ground, the one you need for the worst of days, amidst the worst of tropical storms and hurricanes, to keep you afloat… it really doesn’t need to be hard at all. It doesn’t even need to be concrete. Or cinder block. Or brick. It doesn’t need to be huge and firm, like my home's foundation back in Illinois. In fact, it can be at grade. And it can be very thin. It can allow all the snakes and lizards and maybe even gators, to get inside your house. Because it doesn’t matter at all how strong the foundation really is. It only matters that God goes ahead and picks it up, and transports the entire kit and caboodle, you included, where you need to be. And where you are meant to be.

And if you do happen to see any snakes and gators along the route, with the flick of the wrist, God will send them packing.

When I went back to work almost two years ago, little did I know that at that very moment I was sitting in my first job interview, there was a virus circulating in China. One that would spread and engulf the entire globe by its presence. I never believed that by filling out a job application, I would end up having to maneuver around the suffocating evil that was airborne all around me. I just thought I was going back to work. As a person with a disability. As a person that constantly needed to watch out for my own protections in the workplace. Because no one can protect me at work but me. 

Within these past two years, I’ve had many hard, and harsh, and cruel, and disappointing, and exciting, and thrilling decisions to make, or be made, for me since I began working once again. 

I don’t talk about my disability or chronic pain in specifics. And I would never even dream about telling all the people I meet that I’ve met God before. And that He is by my side at this very moment. And He is the reason, and the only reason, that I punched in today, and that I punched out today… with every intention of coming right back tomorrow and doing the same thing all over again.

And I would never expect anyone else, including an employer, to understand any of this even if I did tell them. But I do have a very harsh resume gap. Being nearly 41 years old, and not working for a chunk of my adult life, there are bound to be questions. What in the heck have I been up to? Why do I want to work right now? Why should they hire me, without prior experience/s they may be needing from their employees? 

I can’t answer any of that. And nor do I intend to.

I can Attend though.

And I can perform. And from here on out, my job, and my work, is my choice. I choose what I can and cannot do. I know my limits. And I know the line I will never cross, just to earn money. 

And I’d like to think that today, unlike when I left the workplace many years ago now, it seems employers actually want their employees to grow, and succeed, with them. Maybe it’s now not - What can the employer get out of me? Before dumping me to the side of the road, to fend for myself?

I do believe that employers today understand that workers need to feel like human beings. With differences, and needs, and desires, and personal goals they want out of work. And we all may have different paths to take. And not meant to stay at the same place for 44 years of work life. That inevitably, we will move on. And our journey will change, and we may not be with them as long as they may want from us.

And that all of this is our choice, not theirs. We, the worker, guide the economy. And it’s not the other way around. 

But unfortunately, as I said before, a virus started circulating the globe, as I filled out job applications.

It spread, like wildfire, all unknown to the world, as I sat in job interviews.

There was talk about some silly little respiratory illness, but thousands of miles away, of course, as I began work and my orientation.

I was then being trained by day, and by night, listening to the news of a lockdown in Wuhan. Still so far away and foreign to me. What was there to worry about here? Everything, in fact.

And as I began really working day by day, all of a sudden a toilet paper explosion happened. And by explosion I do mean explosion. 

First, there was a mass run on toilet paper throughout the world.

And the world got weirder… and weirder.

But then the world of humans got even stranger… On the fifteenth day after the initial fifteen days to slow the spread, or, basically on the fifteenth day of the next thirty days to slow the spread, or otherwise known as April 15, 2020… a paper factory in Maine literally blew up.

And...

The stuff of dystopian movies are made of is exactly what these past two years of work throughout covid has been for me.

I’ve had the best job of my entire life - during the pandemic. I’ve had the worst. In these two years I’ve worked more new roles than in all the past twenty combined. 

I’ve trained, practiced, and studied. I’ve taken tests, and been certified, in this, and in that. 

And as the seasonality of the coronavirus and its strange and new variants have come and gone in haste, so too have other duties as assigned and staff and employers and their needs. I’ve gone up and down an endless roller coaster of surge... and wane. Flowing to the East, and back to the West. Up and down. Thrown on up into the sky. And then all the air comes out, deflated, and back into the swampy, snake infested mud I go once again. It’s been the ride of a lifetime. And to add to the strangeness of  working throughout covid… all the while when so many countless others have had the opportunity to stay home the entire time… literally makes all of it all the more surreal. 

I get foggy eyed, real fast.

Rubbing my eyes to make sure I’m seeing straight. This whole experience being indeed confusing, and quite messy.

I constantly find myself brushing the dirt off my feet, and sanitizing the palms of my hands.

I’ve tripped over my own two legs.

And I’ve fallen flat on my back.

And then I get right back up, for another wild ride.

My hands have been dirty. They’ve been greasy. They’ve been cut, black and blue, and swollen and blistered. They’ve handled and touched and transported substances I’ve never imagined I would be holding ever in this life I have upon Earth.

Is any of this really happening?

Or is it all just an endless dream? Or nightmare? And I just can’t wake myself up?

I don’t expect understanding or comprehension of my past, because it’s too confusing to even comprehend or understand myself. But I do expect - of myself - understanding and comprehension of one miraculous concept.

I made the choice to go back to work at the beginning of 2020. I consider myself in a very odd and strange position to be in life.

The cloud of virus storm brewing on the coastal horizon. Heading our way in secret, calm waves, across oceans to the American shores. No place on Earth left untouched. Human Resources Departments changed - forever. 

Bleh.

I’ve been working all throughout the pandemic... With a GD mask on. With orientations cut short. Gloves and PPE. Shortages of everything and anything you can think of. Last year - Not allowed to sit next to my coworkers during lunch. My job has changed. Roles. Duties. People. Policies. 

Hugging someone crying - not allowed. And then, all of us deciding together to hug and embrace anyways, cause covid policy be damned, if someone just lost a loved one, they are going to receive a hug. And I don’t care what CDC ‘guidelines’ have to say about it.

I’ve worked part time, full time, and overtime. I’ve worked strange hours. And I really and especially worked on those infamous other duties as assigned. Because what the heck is covid, if not falling directly under that final bullet point on almost any job description?

As corona surges, my job changed.

As corona wanes, my job changes once again.

Up and down.

Blowing in the wind. I’m thrown all over the place.

Trying desperately to watch my six.

Working for small wages, then more wages, then the best wages I’ve ever earned in my life, then even less wages once again. Phenomenal perks. No perks. Good hours. Bad hours. And some God awful really, really sucky hours.

And forever reminding myself that my work is not my life.

My life is also not my work.

My life is only, and forever will be, my faith.

And it is that delicate line, between my very faith and the exchange of money for labor, which I must always stay true to.

I’ve worked many a strange role, to help myself find where I am suited best, in my new work life. And, even more important to working with disability - My line in the sand has been drawn. I know, firmly, what I can do and will do, and will NOT do, for my employers. And I never once guessed that when I made the decision to work again two years ago, that I would ever even come up against that line itself. I always thought that borderline was so far away, that I never would have to truly worry about brushing up against it. But the awful truth is that - The place I never thought I would have to go - the line I know I will never cross, staying true to my own new life, my convictions, and my very Faith. I'm actually hitting up against that line, Every. Single. Day.

I am tested. And I am trialed. I am pushed to the very limits of my human heart. 

The roller coaster of emotion. And stress. And policy. And drama. Bureaucracy. And life changing experiences. Has anything really changed since I left the workplace years ago? It may very well be worse than it was well over a decade ago… I really don’t know.

And I have no idea where I’ll be thrown to next. 

I’m literally just going with the flow at this point. 

And...

I never could have done all that I’ve done…

Without faith in God.

But most importantly, I never could have done it if God didn’t pick me up, my entire house, foundation included, and thrown me on up into the sky, allowing me to flow in the wind, whichever way He deemed we sail. All the while, bracing myself, upon my Foundation of Faith.~

​

~ Let Me Be Blunt ~

~Women In World War II - Film Review~

I had no idea what to expect when I popped this DVD into my little, black, spinning machine. But, I was delightfully surprised by what I had discovered within.

I’m a huge fan of old, classic films - especially from the 1940’s and into the 1950’s. Those years are, without a doubt, my favorite era of filmography. And having knowledge of, and already having viewed, countless movies from that time period, I was shocked that I had never run across this one.

I believe this film was recommended to me by Big Tech. You know - the guys who know more about you than you do about yourself.

One of the big sites told me I should check this out. And, either they really do know me better than I do, or a little birdie told them how completely and utterly patriotic I really am. A quick glimpse of the movie poster, imagery, and really, the title alone, and I immediately clicked. A simple skim of the plot, and I went straight over to the Jacksonville Public Library mobile app and requested to rent.

What a joy! 

And what sorrow…

For anyone who is even a remote fan of World War II films, this one is a must-see. The title says it all, and the title does do it justice.

Based upon a true story, So Proudly We Hail tackles a plot involving a ‘small’ and somewhat forgotten and overlooked bullet point of WWII subject matter - WOMEN.

The Women of War… The Women of World Wars... The Women who also risked it all - for freedom.

While, of course, men did most of the fighting, and dying in WWII, women were also heavily involved, at home, and abroad. And contrary to popular belief, women were allowed on the front lines. It just wasn’t discussed, acknowledged, and brought to our attention as it should have been. 

Yes - It should have been - so that we could honor the might and bravery and history of American women - in the world's biggest and mightiest war.

No - it wasn’t just Rosie the Riveter back on the homefront, representing the women of American wartime, in bomber plants and machine shops across the U.S. for the Defense industry. 

While we remember and know Rosie pretty well - we cannot overlook Nancy the Nurse. 

She was nursing on the warfront, and she tackled the death and destruction straight in evil’s path. 

So, while Rosie riveted away on airplanes and war ships and other munitions, Nancy was also seaming and mending pieces together, with stitches and staples of a different sort, and working on a different sort of product. 

Rosie handled the steel - and Nancy handled the blood and guts. 

But they all gave it their all... and that’s all that really mattered at the time.

Starring Claudette Colbert and Paulette Goddard, two of the silver screen’s most extraordinary stars at the time, So Proudly We Hail, accurately, and with great detail, captures the role females in the Army had during some of the war's most challenging times.

And before going any further with this review, I want to highlight an aspect of the film which I deem one of the most important - its context - Time.

So Proudly We Hail was released in 1943 - during the height and depth of WWII. The context is imperative. This film was produced during the war - and not AFTER the war.

This context is of extreme importance, and is what makes this film quite different from WWII films released AFTER WWII was complete. When the war was literally over, extinguished, not of this Earth any longer.

Context is something that - we - society today - have all but forgotten. And context is essential to our understanding of the time period.

And why context is so crucial should be so very obvious, but increasingly isn’t. The war was RAGING while this film was viewed in theaters all over the United States. The war was being fought, the people were sacrificing, people were dying, and the people were afraid of their unknown futures. 

American’s had no idea who was going to win the war while watching this film upon its release. Yet, American’s still sacrificed, and they still gave up so very much. All for a belief... a simple, true and noble belief - in hope. 

Hope.

For a better future. 

For a free world. 

For an end to slavery and tyranny, concentration camps, hate, imperialism - and against the destruction of faith - and for value of personal freedom.

So, while I do love watching these old classic films in the context of the world of today - seemingly and literally a million miles away from the values and context of a world that was alive less than a hundred years ago. I also equally enjoyed viewing So Proudly We Hail with the remembrance of the fact that all of this was made and written and said and sweated over while we were still fighting against the Third Reich and the Imperial Japanese. 

No one at the time knew how this horrific world war would end, especially in 1942 and 1943. Only really in 1944 could some see a light at the end of the tunnel. Again, calling all of context into play here. 

It all could have gone either way at that point in 1943. The world could have gone the way of the thousand year reign of a fascist dictator, or it could, and did, go in the direction of freedom. And that fact of their lack of knowledge of the future is what I enjoy the very most when I view these films of that time period. 

Additionally, and of quite importance regarding the axis power of Japan during the time, no one knew we would someday become allies, and what I have always viewed as a special kinship and friendship between the United States and Japan - after the war. 

I believe with all my heart that our relationship with Japan is of solid hope for the world to see - that enemies can become friends. That horrific atrocities on both sides can truly be forgiven. And pave the way toward a better future - for both nations, and others. And this is worth noting due to the scenes in the film where hatred toward the Japanese is discussed from the American point of view at the time. 

A time - after - Pearl Harbor had been bombed. 

A time - before - Hiroshima and Nagasaki had been bombed.

Of particular note is a scene where Veronica Lake’s character says she is going to ‘kill some Japs.’ She then has a realization - what good would that do? That is not her role. She is sent to the front lines as a nurse - to heal any and all - at a hospital, in the jungle. She does fulfill her role and duty, and does not kill her enemy instead at the time. 

Ultimately, however, it is her character that ends up ironically sacrificing herself to save her fellow female soldiers from their enemy at the time - the Japanese. And in her final act, she ends up killing herself - to kill the enemy - to save her American comrades. This scene, showing that no matter how her personal beliefs evolved over the course of their wartime struggles, people still made the ultimate sacrifice. And some still were forced to kill, even if they truly did not want to, in the course of war and evil.

Throughout the entirety of this wonderful piece of film, we are treated to the display of American Army Nurses on patrol, on shift, and their struggles off shift as well. Love, duty, honor, and sacrifice abound the entire film. This movie sheds light on the role of nurses in war, and what tools they had - or did not have - to work with while caring for their patients. 

Seemingly forgotten in the jungles, these brave nurses triaged patients under a canopy of palm trees. Their operating rooms were made of tin roofs and cloth sheets for walls. They ran out of what we call today - PPE - personal protective equipment. And they performed surgery without masks. Simply because they just didn’t have any around to use. 

Gloves were in extremely short supply. And where today’s hospitals have entire sterile processing programs for surgical instruments, this film portrays how nurses had to wash and sanitize tools in basic garbage bins and barrels - in a futile struggle to remain germ-free for each and every, and endless, patient. 

Medicine running out, and at times completely out of supply, patients had to be treated without pain killers, and no anesthesia. A basic - grit your teeth and bear it - sort of agony, for stitching and mending. 

And post op - forget any special flower bouquets and treats and books and magazines to keep occupied. Patients by the hundreds and thousands, lay on makeshift stretchers, to suffer through their terrible recoveries in the hot, humid, and wet open air weather of the so-called hospital. All these patients - laying in that shared, open air, watching as our heroic nurses continued treatment on countless other patients seemingly all around them.

And in case one was starting to forget - the film does a solid job of not ever letting us forget that all their hospital work was under constant threat of destruction and actually bombing. Army staff and patients were constantly fleeing enemy soldiers, snipers, airplane attacks from the sky above, and there were constant forced evacuations onto safer land - that was, conspicuously, never found. 

As the situation seemed to get worse, for allies in the vicinity, sadly, the war did eventually take a very bad turn for the allies. Bataan, and the Battle of the Philippines, being what many consider one of the American militaries worst failures in our history. In that, the United States, amidst the U.S. and Filipono forces’ inability to hold the line, they ultimately fell - to the Japanese. As the overwhelming and brutal forces of their imperial enemy in this area were too much for both nations to endure. And sadly, after the fall, there was further atrocity - when the Bataan Death March was played out on enemy territory. 

Roughly 80,000 American and Filipino troops were contained as prisoners of war, and horrific treatment of these prisoners led to countless further wartime deaths. Post War, Japanese commanders were tried and convicted of war crimes for their knowledge and failure of oversight of subordinates and for allowing these war crimes to take place on their watch.

So, knowing all this, many tears were shed while watching this film. As pain, and suffering, and sacrifice, and hate, and love, were all on full display. 

And yes, there was Love.

There was Love - that surrounded the entire film. Love, that gave many hope, I might think, at the time. Love was still happening. Love of all kinds. And this film - in the greatest of great horrors of war time - showed that people were not afraid to actually live while they were alive. Something - as I have said many times - many today have now conclusively forgotten. 

We are an afraid people right now. And we are scared to live while we are alive. These people were not. And I am not afraid to live either. The love and life portrayed in this film is indeed something we all can take lessons from today. 

During struggle and and sacrifice and the horrors of war, one still must live. 

After all, when else is there to live, than when you are alive? 

Amidst bombs exploding, one must still live as they watch the bombs fall. In the middle of a raging fire, one must search for water and various types of flame retardants. Surrounded by hate, one must spread good will. And with smoke attempting suffocation, one must still breathe. Life. 

If we are not living - we are dying.

If we are not moving - we are receding.

If we are not learning - we are submitting.

If we are not struggling - we are not human.

If we are not risking it all - we are doomed to never know what could truly become.

If we do not know sacrifice - we do not know God’s ultimate glory for us.

If we are not loving - we are doubting God’s creation.

And,

If we do not have Faith - what is our future? 

Faith - this brings me to my favorite scene of the entire film.

Walter Abel, playing the role of Army Chaplain, gives a superb performance, and is my favorite actor in the film. He remains, to this day, one of my favorite character actors of the time. His on-screen presence is a joy to me, and a light to my heart. If I had been alive during his lifetime, I would have strived to have met him in real life. And I know I would have written letters to him, thanking him for the joy his characters brought to my heart.

The scene - was of course - Christmas. My favorite holiday. My favorite time of year. Our beloved characters were all onboard ship, and the Chaplain said a prayer. The script is poetic. And many ears today could benefit from hearing his special words. It’s as if God spoke onboard the mighty vessel. And God was there - glowing amidst the light of their special little makeshift Christmas tree. 

And this remains my favorite scene - because…

What is war - without Christmas? 

“You must forgive me for being sentimental...” Abel states, as personnel gathered around the silly, impromptu Christmas tree. 

And he continues: “We’re a sentimental people…” 

“Our enemies deride us for it…”

But - “It’s what makes us stronger.”

He asks the people standing around him to have Faith. To continue forward. Even as that very night the ship steered straight into the hellfire of the coming battle. And even as he knows - and they know - what is waiting for them when they reach shore.

But still - they prayed.

And they still - had Faith.~

​

Well, It’s officially been over 30 days now since I deleted my Facebook account.

And, I can see clearly now, the rain has gone.

All kidding aside, it’s been the best thirty days!

So - If you’ve been thinking of leaving Facebook, this one’s for you, my dear:

​

I’ve rambled on and on about the positive and negative aspects of social media many times in the past, and you can check some of it out right here:

#71] My 69 Week Break from Social Media ~ Why I Left & Why I Came Back

So I won’t really delve into any of that just right now. But - I will tell you here about these past thirty days, and why I’m never going back on social, ever freaking again.

Basically, I have really, and quite passionately, come to believe and understand, that there are two very different worlds taking place right now. There is the Universe, and there is the Alternative Universe. And, confusingly, I’m not very sure which one is which, or which one we all live in, but I do think there are two different worlds happening right before our eyes.

I’m a huge Elon Musk fan, and I love how he, and many others, speak of the Simulation Theory. It basically goes like this - that we, humans, on Earth, are living in a Simulation, controlled by a host(s) in an outside, and completely out of reach, universe. I’m not going to get too sciency and technical here, and it’s all just a theory, because if we are part of a simulation, and we don’t even know it, and there’s no science to back it up, then what is there to even elaborate on for the purposes of today’s post.

But, if we are living in a simulation, then it means our entire world is fabricated. And we are game pieces, or avatars, and we don’t really have free will. And that the creators of this simulation, kinda, sorta, throw things in - like a pandemic - to throw us off our game. Because they get bored easily and wanna mix things up, and see how humans react. And, it also means the simulation is so real-like, that we would never even believe we are “fake” - kinda mind blowing, right?

And - if the universe is infinite - meaning it never, ever ends, then there is an infinite amount of possibilities of this theory being true? So, basically, what I’m trying to tell you right here is that, if the world never ends, there are lots and lots of “alternative” copies of Earth out there. All floating in an infinite universe, with infinite copies of us floating around as well. I mean, what happens at the end of the universe, anyways? - If the universe has an end, what is beyond the boundary?

​

So, maybe, somewhere in the infinite universe, there is an Earth out there, with two suns?

Maybe, there is a copy of us out there, on a copy Earth, looking up at the sunset, and seeing a binary sunset.

​

What if The Big Bang was simply us, popping out the opposite end of a Black Hole? Exploding our current life into being? And all of our universe, had once lived on the polar opposite end of this Black Hole? After all, haven’t we been told that nothing, absolutely nothing, can escape from a Black Hole? And no one knows what’s on the other side, right? So, what if we were sucked in, and came out, on the other side? We wouldn’t even know it. The death, and destruction, of the force of the black hole, killed and born, our universe into being, in the smallest fraction of time possible of all impossibilities.

Maybe, there is an Earth out there, where world wars never raged, and the U.S. Civil War never happened? Maybe Walt Disney never died of cancer, and instead grew the Disney Company into something completely different than it is today? Maybe the current Disney Company never purchased LucasFilm and thus, Star Wars, for four billion dollars? Maybe Rome never burned? Maybe we never landed on the moon? But instead, we went straight to Mars? And the classic, alternative universe theory, maybe a young Adolf Hitler was accepted into art school in Austria, and never brainwashed racial, ethnic, and religious hatred en masse? And was, therefore, never able to convince other human beings to commit a genocide of six million Jewish people?

And maybe, all of these people, who were never gassed and cremated, and never fought in wars that never happened, went ahead to live into old age? Maybe Rome - stayed Rome. Maybe World War I and II never occurred. And maybe all these people who lived invented great things? That we currently do not have? And maybe because of these inventions, social media, including Facebook, were never invented, because that idea, at that exact time, was not sparked into being?

​

Maybe I never had to go 30 days without Facebook to officially close my account? Maybe the entire world is at peace right now? Instead of China militarizing in the open seas? And potential terrorist threats to our homeland were never needed to worry over? Maybe communism was never invented? And liberty and freedom are all that we all know?

Maybe I dreamed all this up over the past thirty days?

And the world is really just as it truly is?

And Facebook still exists, just as it really does.

And thus, the online world, and the real world, is just as it all appears to be.

And maybe we only have one sun.

And maybe we will never, ever, ever witness a binary sunset, even though we know in our hearts, such an idea is possible?

Thirty days ago, my heart guided me toward the Delete button. I went from a bright and colorful and cheery avatar, smiling and holding a piece of my art on canvas, straight into what I call the gray zone.

I opted for the permanent DELETE button - instead of DEACTIVATE. 

DEACTIVATING your account merely does exactly what it is called - your account becomes inoperable, non-viewable, no activity is possible.. But it is still there, in case you ever want to REACTIVATE it once again. 

While, DELETING your account, on the other hand, does exactly what it says. It DELETES your Facebook account. So, 30 days ago, that’s exactly what I did. And with that decision of deleting accomplished, my account was subjected to thirty days of gray. 

I imagine this gray stage can be viewed in one of two ways. 

One being a form of punishment, or human torture, and tormentation. Facebook has decided that because you want to leave its platform, you first must be submitted to thirty days of teasing. Daring you to come back. Your decision to leave - not permanent - until the passage of one months time. And one month, in this crazy age, is eternity. So, if you can make it through the tortuous month, you’re free. 

But instead of punishment, I like to view this gray stage as a badge of honor. 

I’ve beat the system. I’ve declared my beliefs. And I stand on my own. Proudly. No longer allowing social media, and Facebook, to rule my life. And even if it didn’t rule my life, social media likes to think it does, and that’s just as bad. And dangerous. Because that’s how it gains all its power.

I had done ALL OF THIS DARN STUFF before. I had lived thirty days in the gray in the past. And now, I did it all over again. For the final time.

I lived 35 years of life - WITHOUT a Facebook account. 

I actually stubbornly refused to join Facebook, for many, many years. Valuing my privacy, over anything else.

But then, I got very sick. And, for about ten years, I suffered. And when God helped me save my own life, I found my voice, and I knowingly gave up a certain small amount of my privacy… All so that I could help you. By sharing my stories and experiences with you - my hope is that you can see that you too can save your own life, if it needs saving, and that saving yourself is indeed possible. And that God truly is there for you too - of course.

But I don’t need to be on Facebook, or social media - to share with you.

I was moving away from home, and everything I knew, when I joined Facebook. I was still very sick when I joined. But then, I stayed on Facebook, and shared more and more, after God saved me. It all became too much. And something had to give.

I needed a break. I wanted to break free. From everything social media. It had rubbed me the wrong way. And my gut told me to get outta there. And I deleted all my accounts. Deleted - not Deactivated. And I lived social media free for 69 weeks. Well, scratch that, I lived social media free for 35 years plus 69 weeks.

And then, sighhhhh - I went back once again. The FORCE pulling me back in. The connectivity of the sites, too strong, to stay away. I was, ultimately, sucked unreluctantly back into the black hole.

So, during all this, I definitely saw life from many perspectives throughout this entire time period. I’ve lived with social, and without. I’ve seen the good. I’ve seen the bad. I’ve seen life with Facebook, and I’ve lived, and dreamed many dreams, during life without Facebook. 

I’ve seen Earth with one sun, and Earth with two suns.

I’ve lived on both sides of the moon.

I have seen the flip side.

And I LOVE it!

So, after more than 40 years of life, and 30 days of living in the gray… It’s time to celebrate.

I’m done!

I’ve graduated.

Magna Cum Laude.

Wahoo!

I am now living Facebook FREE!

Goodbye Zuck.

Nice knowing ya - Well, actually, it wasn’t really nice knowing him. But, no need to hurt his feelings and tell him that right here.

And I do NOT miss it - at all.

So, if that’s what you were wondering, and if that’s why you're here with me right now, that previous sentence I can guarantee you is two hundred and fifty three percent TRUE!

I do NOT miss Facebook.

Oh yeah, by the way, I did the same exact thing with all my other social media accounts.

Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, etc….. They’re all gone.

They were all deleted on different days and at different times. But, they’re all gone. And they’re all not missed.

I’ve firmly decided upon a life without social media. And once again, I say, right here, as my declaration of fact, and to hold myself accountable. I am NOT going back this time. 

I am going full speed ahead.

Light speed ahead, in fact.

Into my life without social media.

Goodnight Like Button.

Goodnight Love Button.

Goodnight Hug Button.

And

Goodnight Angry Button.

Sleep well, my very dear, very fake, friends.

And that point, right there, is where I bring you back around, to the other side. That word - Fake.

Fake. Fake. And FAKE.

Social media is not real life.

Did I blow your mind with that one?

I hope not.

I hope you already know that the online world is not the real world.

I hope you know that what’s trending on Twitter is really only trending there, and not on Earth.

I hope you know that it doesn’t really matter how many likes you get.

And I dearly hope you know that when someone sends you a precious little Mr. Angry Face, not to take that button personally.

Because, if everyone did believe all that, the world would be in some pretty big trouble.

I mean, it seems that Facebook alone, minus all other social media, can pop out more angry faces in a day, than most people have breaths in their lungs for a lifetime of breathing. Just click on a live stream of something, and watch all the buttons fly by… smile, hate, smile, angry, smile, angry, angry, angry. Angry.

That’s a lot of angry faces to go around, JEEEE JUS!

There’s a lot of hatred online. There’s so much hatred online, that it's come to the point in which many humans actually believe what is happening on the internet, and what’s happening on social media, is actually constructive of what is happening in the real world.

And, guess what? I’m here to tell you that’s simply not true.

Twitter - wrap your head around this one please - is not representative of real life on Earth.

And let’s not forget about Zuck - Poor Mark Z. - he really and truly is not your friend.

And that Pinterest board you made - you don’t actually have that bulletin board hanging on the wall in your home office above your desk.

And that cloud of yours - it’s not actually floating in the sky - either.

And, maybe - you’ve heard this one - what is being portrayed on Instagram is not real life? See, I told ya you’ve heard that one before. I’m not the only one around saying these things, and these are not new ideas. I’m simply putting it out there in my own little way for your grasp and understanding of how much these social media sites have played with our Earthly timeline and trajectory.

I believe, firmly, that social media has altered the trajectory of humanity.

I believe that, because of social media, the humans who live upon our dear Mother Earth, are headed out into the dark and desolate abyss of an unknowing and quite scary future. When, instead, we could have taken a different path. But it’s all too late now. And we can only watch the horizon line, and steady our path to a more clear and lighted runway, somewhere lightspeed far into our future, and hope we land in safe territory, and not upon a fiery red Hell, flaming widely atop a different Earth, in an alternative universe.

Because ultimately, the real danger of all these social media sites is that all the infinite fakeness of - or shall we say - simulation - of real life online, and how life is portrayed online, has become so real. The line between reality and online reality so blurred. That what is taking place in the simulated world of social media is our real life, and human beings are becoming increasingly unable to distinguish what is real and true and what really happening, and what is being simulated before us for our binary eyes to see and believe in and never know how simulated or fake it all really and truly is.

So - in my desperate plea to you right here, right now, I’m here to tell you to follow your gut in regards to social media. If it doesn’t feel “right” for you, it probably isn’t.

Hit that DELETE button.

Even if it means taking a different, foreign, dark and mysterious path. 

Go ahead and take the path that’s deathly scary.

Take the path of mystery and risk.

Take the path that is so long, you have no idea where it will end. Or even, if it ever will end.

Lightspeed to Endor.

Just do it.

Because while you may be headed into a dark and scary future, living without the social and without the media, you can’t make it somewhere grand and beautiful and amazing and wonderful, without risking it all, and trying something that hasn’t been done before.

Your stomach may make you sick. You may feel nauseous, and question your own sanity. You may lose many friends - friends that you were only connected to via glitz and glamour of the Hollywood lights. But, if you want to find a place with two suns, you have to sever all communication with those beings anyway. 

Because AT&T and Verizon don’t have cell service that far away. And there’s no land line reaching into the abyss either.

​

In fact, you may be risking your very life, to travel that road. And live that life. And be who you are supposed to be.

Disclaimer here: By deleting your Facebook account, you will most likely sever some relationships. And that’s ok. You see, sometimes people’s only connection to another, in this day and age, is via social media. Some people don't know your real digits anymore - only your fake digits. So, you will lose friends. You will suffer loss. And you will lose memorable imagery as well.

Sigh.

Ya know, speaking of loss, just the other day, my hero, Elon Musk, was once again “trending” on all the mediums of our Mother Earth.

It seemed, my dear souls, the Twitterverse was quite mad at him - once again. Because he said something so horrible, so terrible, so horrific, and it landed on our precious and delicate little ears. These ears could not comprehend such a thing. And in this world, he received many Angry Face buttons for his beliefs.

He - brace yourselves for this one my friends - said something shocking. Elon said that in order for humans to arrive on Mars, a bunch of people are going to die. And the Twitterverse had an absolute freaking cow.  

Because of course, in this age where everyone lives inside their safe little bubbles, no one remembers what life is like outside that bubble. No one really remembers that living means risk. And exploring means sacrifice. And that these people who volunteer for such a mission, may not come back alive. But, Elon continued, it will be a glorious adventure.

This arduous and dangerous journey, into the darkness, will bring about death and destruction, but it will also bring about new worlds. And how can so many people love Star Wars, and Tatooine, and dream of a land with two suns, without comprehending the sacrifice that will be needed in order to find such a land outside our own dreams and in our real lives?

Of course people will die getting to Mars. Of course, because with great risk comes great sacrifice. And, I argue to you now, of course with great risk also comes great reward. Comes the beauty to see the land with two suns in real life. To travel lightspeed to other worlds. Worlds, not even visualized by humanity just yet. And with that - alternative worlds, where tulips bring about happiness. And Hitler graduated from Art School and became a worldly philosopher and astronomist, and not a genocidal maniac. He and Walt Disney teamed up, and Walt Disney’s World’s fifth theme park became an Art Park. Where anything you can dream up, you can create in this new reality. One canvas free with admission entry daily.

This glorious adventure, that Elon envisions, and speaks of, that stirred the pot, and made many angry faces bubble up into hot steam, is exactly why this man is a hero of mine. He is one rare soul on this planet. Who believes in an alternative world. Who chooses the road less traveled. Is not afraid to step off the path, and go deep into the dark and lonely space of life, and say the things that are now too delicate for humanities ears to comprehend. And do the things that humans are now too afraid to do. And risk the things that have to be risked, to find out where the land of two suns really is at. So that we can witness a binary sunset, with our very own binary eyeballs.

If you Google the term Binary Sunset, and read about the Star Wars soundtrack, you may discover for yourself something quite spectacular. You may read in the comments - ironically written on social media sites - about the infamous song that stirs this adventure. A dream that is about to be dreamed. People, in the comments, say, that the sound of this song gives them goosebumps.

Why would such a sound give someone goosebumps? They are saying these words online. But they are not living these words offline. They are hiding behind their computers. And not living the stuff dreams are made of - the stuff of goosebumps - the stuff that sends shivers up their spines, in real life. 

My challenge to you here, is to search for that feeling which gives YOU goosebumps. What sends a shiver up your spine? What scares you to near death? And what brings you more joy than all the heavens set upon binary sunsets? Find that feeling. And go with it. Let go of the fake life on social media. And live a real life once again.

And, let us not forget, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. I’m saying right here and now that it is going to be hard.

It will be painful.

And yes, it may make you throw up and vomit your cheeseburger.

G forces and the speed of light tends to do that to a human stomach.

And, soak in all the fine print right here: you WILL, most definitely, one hundred percent positively, lose many friends and family members in the process. Because in the process of living a life made of dreams and Star Wars and Revolutions and Forces outside of Earth’s atmosphere, with it all comes a great deal of emotion and loss and isolation and darkness. But you could never see the light of lightspeeds, without seeing the darkest of dark black hole event horizon lines.

And there will be times when time passes more slowly, because you won’t really know what’s going on outside your own little spaceship.

And there will be times where time seemingly passes as fast as light travels, because you will be having so much fun, and living the life of adventure, that glorious adventure that many search their whole lives for and never find.

So with all that being said, my thirty days are up. Thirty days of gray and my thirty shades of gray living.

I’m outta here and ready for my Mission to Mars. I suggest you buckle up and launch your own mission as well.

Goodnight, Goodbye, and Godspeed.

Bring it on.~

​

I remember watching Lucy walk over to Ethel’s apartment to borrow a cup of sugar. And visa versa.

I remember when DJ Tanner talked on the phone with Kimmy Gibbler.

I remember playing baseball in the street.

I remember when neighbors actually spoke to one another.

I remember when a new family moved into the neighborhood, the locals would trek across their lawns, ring the doorbell, introduce themselves, welcome the newest residents, and drop off some baked goodies - whether it be a loaf of bread, or a plate of cookies. And it actually didn’t matter what form of food the calories were melded into, what mattered was the act of the offering.

And that was it.

They were now neighbors.

And - They were friends.

It didn’t matter who was a republican and who was a democrat.

And, all the politics in the world... wouldn’t stop a neighbor from helping a neighbor in need. 

Someone would always be there to shovel the snow for the people nearby them. 

Someone would always have time, or desire, to organize that infamous summer block party. 

And at Christmas time, there’d always be that neighbor who wanted to host a cookie exchange - or even - set up matching light-up plastic soldiers lining the entire block.

But does any of that matter anymore?

Does anybody still do any of these things?

Do you even talk with your neighbors?


I do. 

But I do know it's becoming increasingly rare. With our phones in our hands, and our heads bent down, we can’t even see our neighbors, let alone talk with them, through that black and desolate screen.

So, over time, with less one-on-one communication, we have now ended up in the situation we currently find ourselves: Anger. Hate. Violence. Incivility. And worse.

And, no I’m not blaming the smart phone for all our worldly problems.

I’m blaming us.

WE - are bigger than a phone. WE - are bigger than the internet. WE - are bigger than social media.

But - WE - have forgotten all this.

In this crazy covid world, we have forgotten that humanity is more important than how many likes we get. That communication isn’t just one directional. And that the world isn’t one size fits all. 

We have even forgotten how to speak simply with one another. And how to speak civilly with one another.

And without communication with another - we are no longer unified.

Why does a couple, or a union, divorce? Separate, or break up? Why does a relationship end?

Is it because they no longer love one another? They can no longer agree? They’re not on the same page? They have different aspirations and life goals? They feel anger and hostility toward each other? They cannot even communicate with each other any longer? They are disgusted with one another and cannot stand the sight of the other? Maybe, maybe all of the above… but maybe it’s the simple fact that they no longer want to share a life together. After all, love cannot be forced. 

So, what happens when we, as a nation, no longer agree with another?

What happens when we no longer love our neighbors?

When we cannot agree on the definition of words?

We are basically speaking different languages at that point, right?

Speaking different languages is not always a problem. There are people who speak different languages all over the world, and they all don’t disagree with and hate one another.

It’s the actions one takes that lead to agreement or disagreement. Civility or incivility. A smile and a handshake go a long way, especially if two people standing before each other do not understand the words coming out of their mouths.

But what happens when two people who do speak the same langage stand before each other, attempting communication, and one word means something to one of them, and the same word then means something else - something completely different - to the other? The meaning being contradictory, the opposite of intention… leading to anger, or violence over perceived meaning?

Are we in the denial phase of breaking up our relationship in this country right now?

I don’t know… maybe we are well past denial at this point. Maybe we’re well engulfed in the anger phase by now?

Yes, that must be it. Because all I see is anger and hostility - on the news anyway.

In real life, it’s a completely different story. 

In real life, I see the sun rise. I see people walking on the beach… passing each other and smiling. I see myself shopping in the grocery store. And real people being real nice to one another. 

I even still see neighbors helping neighbors.

Could it be that the news and media paints a different picture of real life? Are we in denial of what’s really happening, or is what’s really happening just happening differently in different locales? Is one person’s perception of the same matter differently perceived by the other? Can we even wrap our heads around that question? Yes, maybe that’s it. What’s happening online really is happening, but some people can’t see it? And maybe some people see the same thing but completely differently.

Who knows? But, either way, I still see us falling.

My perception is I see the country falling apart. As some are still baking cookies for one another, others are beating people in the streets. Bloody and bruised. Chocolate chips and cinnamon rolls. Hatred and anger. Lemonade stands and block parties. Fires and bear spray.

And, due to all this disagreement we have with each other - Is it time we broke up with one another?

No. I argue, No.

It’s not time.

We have a long road ahead. With each other.

Side by side.

Agree and disagree.

We should not divorce.

We have reconcilable differences.

We have differences - yes. But they are NOT irreconcilable.

In any good, healthy, solid, and long term relationship - continuous work is required.

We have work to do, indeed.

But, that work must be together. Not apart. Not separate. Not under disunion. Not under false pretence. And not under a guise of fake mediation. 

We MUST work hard at living as good neighbors to one another. We MUST be civil. We MUST be noble. And true. And kind. And do it all for nothing in return. When did everything become about what you will get out of it? When did actions become simply about the reaction? And nothing more? After all, every time Lucy borrowed a cup of sugar, did she ever repay it?

When did we start not dropping off a plate of cookies when a new neighbor moved in next door? Expecting nothing in return, except maybe a smile. A handshake. An introduction. A civil conversation? 

A long, long time ago, I guess.

I’ll let you in on a little secret. These cookies... they don't have to be homemade. They don’t have to be the fancy recipe straight from your Grandma’s kitchen. They don’t have to be gourmet.

These cookies could be a plastic box of store-bought chocolate chip cookies, sealed with a bar code and priced at $3.99 for a box of twelve from the Publix down the road.

But, here’s an even bigger secret. You don’t even need to bring cookies with you. You just need to say hello.

No, you see - It’s not the cookies we have forgotten, and it’s not that we cannot afford $3.99 with endless bills to pay, with worries over rent and healthcare. It’s the act of walking next door that we have truly and utterly and sadly forgotten and completely eliminated from our lives. The act of crossing the lawn, getting shoes wet from the morning dew on the blades of cut grass. Walking up the front lawn, climbing the porch, and ringing that gosh darn effing door bell - with good intention in our heart.

Cookies not included.

Cookies not needed.

Just a Hello.

Just a Welcome to the neighborhood.

Just simplicity.

We have definitely forgotten this simple act.

And who am I to even write about it? I have forgotten it too. Well, I haven’t forgotten. I do THINK of it when someone new moves in. But that’s about it. I THINK. I don’t ACT on it. After all, who has time for all that, right?

I’m the busiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. I am living my very best life. But I am NOT partaking in dropping cookies at people’s doorsteps. And maybe that’s where this whole thing has gone wrong. Right freaking there.

I am truly happy. Extremely happy. Immensely happy. I am busy. I work hard. I love my family and friends. But when’s the last time I welcomed a new neighbor? I have no freaking idea.

I must give myself some credit though where credit is due. This Christmas, my husband and I made hundreds of cookies - piles and piles of cookies. The proof is on my Youtube Channel if you don’t believe me. And I did deliver cookies to neighbors and strangers alike. But this is simply one small act.

And today, I made a double batch of cookies for work tomorrow. A coworker's last day. For a ‘party’ and for my best wishes to send this person onto their next adventure in life. 

One other small act.

These little acts. They do add up. They become our life. And our lives. If we are not interacting with one another regularly, in real life, then how can we have a civil relationship with each other in real life?

We need to say hello. We need to get to know one another. We need to have a relationship, other than by our avatars and screen names. Outside of the computers and not reflected through our phone screens. Let’s toss aside our usernames, and use our real freaking names.

So, is it time we broke up? Should we be getting a divorce?

I still say NO.

Now is not the time to call it quits. 

We have still but a fleeting moment.

Not even now, as cities burn once again. Not even now, as the world seemingly readies itself for another war. Not even now, as more death engulfs the world. Not even now, as Evil reigns. And Evil thinks it’s winning. The flames having the upper hand. With fireworks in the night sky, and the Devil staring straight at us front and center. World War III on the horizon.

We can still work this out.

And we can stave off a civil war. But, we must heed the warning signs.

We can find the reconcilable parts of our hearts. And join together once again. As one nation, undivided.

And then we can have a simple block party. Hot dogs and beers all around. Slip, sliding away. Party in the USA. Everyone’s invited - Kimmy Gibbler included. And cookies are not required.~

​

~ Happiness in the Midst of All Adversity ~

~Finding Peace Amidst A Simple Morning Walk~

Thought I’d post my usual (daily) Instagram image right here today - instead of actually on the social media platform I just mentioned. 

Because Christine’s Floridian Dreams lives in - well… Christine’s Floridian Dreams.

And while I do love Instagram, I also loathe all social media platforms.

So as I watch the world seemingly crumble - and desperately attempt to continue onward - around me... 

That world cannot crumble me - and I continue onward as well. 

And I remain optimistic. 

As my focus goes inward.

And I go for a walk.

Sipping my steamy, hot, morning coffee.

And I hug my furry baby.

The world is at peace. Or so... it seems.

While I enjoy a blustery, winter day on the coast.

So today’s post - including the image, caption, and any relative hashtags - lives here, and here alone. On my website. And in MY dreams.

I’ll see you again tomorrow Instagram. But for today - you don’t get even a slice of my time.

~ Cheers ~

#saturdayvibes
#christinepieper
#christinesfloridiandreams 

​

What do you see... that is still the same today? 

What do you see… after nineteen years have flown by?

What do you see… by the dawn's earliest pink light?

What do you see… as we continue our perilous fight?

What do you see… looking down at two holes in the solemn ground?

What do you see… forever searching and maybe still not found?

What do you see… nineteen diligent years later?

What do you see… as you peer into those deep craters?

What do you see… from an airplane’s crash?

What do you see… past all the fire and burned ash?

What do you see… past the smoke and dusty air?

What will you believe… as people begin to not care?

And do you still hear… that valiant band playing through the quiet air?

And will you bear witness… to those fighting still and forever as they must?

As the next round starts...  and we have to keep rolling past all the dust.

What do you see… through twilights shining gleam?

What do you see… past all those forces unseen?

What do you see… through those shining bright stars and breathtaking broad stripes?

What do you see… through the horror of all those bombs bursting this very night?

What do you see… through pollution and the reddest of red blood?

What do you see… as free men - and women - stand here in the mud?

What do you see… past Liberty’s smile?

What do you see… from sea to shining sea all those miles?

What do you see… though concealed fighting to be disclosed?

What do you see… as foe’s strike their continual battle blows?

Do you see there is proof?

That our flag is still there?

Oh Say Darling Can You See… her most beautiful story?

As she stands here - proud… in all of her glory?

Yes - I do.

I do see it all.

Yes even in war’s havoc and confusion and nineteen years later.

I even see Heaven on Earth and God our Creator.

I see that reflection shine above all and very tall.

I see Angels in the sky… And God in our hearts as we bawl.

I see reflection bounced off millions of broken chains.

Forever more - unconfined.

I see all those who paved our very way.

With their very lives - they all gave.

Yes, I see those next pages of her remarkable story be flipped.

As her bright blazen stays now - and forever - lit.

And, I STILL see the land of the freest of free… and know that this is God’s Country home, of the very, very brave. ~

​

Y'all may also want to check out:
​#63) Mercy & Comfort
#6) Nine Eleven: Before & After 

Over the last few months, #lastsupper might have well been trending every single day.

Because with every conversation I have had with another human being - this meal - this act - was a topic of conversation…

Where was your last dinner out?

What did you order?

Who were you with?

And even - what did you talk about?

Ahh, who were you with??? Before quarantine took us all over.

Were you with the ones you are with right now?

Were you with loved ones you now have not seen in eight weeks?

Separated by an invisible plague.

A plague that is wreaking havoc on civilization itself.

Were you celebrating a special occasion during that final meal? Or was the dinner out nothing special at all?... Just another day, just another outing. Not really having given it a passing thought.

There are lots of meaningful moments in a person’s life. Many moments that, when they are taking place, the person does not know it’s the last time. That’s why the old adage…

Live each day as if it were your last.

OR

You don’t know what you’ve got, till it’s gone.

So, maybe now is the time to ask yourself: Are you living each day? Yes, even during quarantine. Are you fully alive? Each and every single day. Regardless of place? Circumstance? Location? Setting? Situation? Finances? Limitations? Roadblocks? Mystery? Scarcity? Hope? Fear?

I am. And I have been, living, each day.

For three years.

I am fully ALIVE.

Pandemic…

Or no pandemic.

I am alive. And I am living my very best life.

I was fully alive before the world changed, and I am extremely grateful to be fully alive during it. And I’m still completely and 100% alive, as the world awakens, opens up their front doors, and steps off their front porches… many, for the first time, in a very long time.

You see, I was already out there… standing in the street… looking inward, toward humanity, inside their houses. Just waiting for y'all to come on out again. And join me. In life.

Because life - in Florida - means fresh air. While it was winter, and a cold and rainy spring, in many areas of the country, during this horrific shutdown, living in Florida during this plague was an extra special blessing to be from God Himself.

I was able to still walk outside, and get fresh, warm air, every single day. I was able to sit on my balcony, outside, every single day. I was able to literally soak in my vitamin D. The vitamin they keep discussing in the news as being imperative to fight CoVid19.

So, I’m happy to FINALLY see and hear of many other people starting their own venture outward. Yes, even New York is seeing signs of hope and life again. So, as the weather turns warmer, and brighter, in other parts of the world, many others can now also soak in their daily vitamin D. Have their coffee on their balconies. And get outside.

I’m happy to be joined with the sea of humanity as they open their front doors.

Many are afraid.

Many are terrified.

Many are following guidelines, plans, and executive, gubernatorial orders, or newly enacted city ordinances.

And, yes, many are stepping off their front porch steps at the very same time.

So, I’m out here to say to those who are starting out right now...

Hello.

Welcome back.

And -

There’s a life to live out there.

Life is happening - whether we know it or not - whether we like it or not - and whether we want it to or not.

And life is, merely and once again, your reaction, to other actions.

I am showing you my reaction.

People are craving normalcy. People want to socialize. And people want to go out to eat.

Well, we, in Florida, were able to finally do just that.

For the first time in over two months.

We dined out.

We sat outside. We were far away from other humans. And we had a great meal. As we gazed at a gorgeous, waterfront setting.

We traveled down the winding Palm Valley Road toward the bridge.

Nestled and tucked under that large expanse of a hovering bridge is the Palm Valley Outdoors Bar & Grill. Located at 377 South Roscoe Boulevard in Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida, the location really is perfect as well.

On a bright and shiny and blue sky day, we arrived at the Grill for a lovely lunch outing.

We planned our outing to go earlier in the day, rather than later. My work schedule has me going to bed early, so we usually end up with a lot of lunches out - instead of dinners.

But considering this was a first meal of sorts, and it was a birthday celebration, both hubby and I were extra excited to arrive - no matter what the time was.

We knew it would take a while. We knew they had just recently opened to the public once again for dine-in service. We were prepared to wait, long.

And all their signage around the building told me another story… That they were open during the worst. That they were doing curbside pick up - and even dock side pick up, for boaters.

I was extra grateful to be a dine-in patron that day.

We had about a one and a half hour wait… They had told us about 35 minutes, it ended up being a lot longer, obviously.

No problem.

We knew what we were getting into by dining at a restaurant just after an official re-opening to the public. In my mind, I treated this outing as the equivalent of visiting a restaurant on their first day of operation - a new business. A restaurant’s first day is always a huge mountain to climb. Always a challenge. And yet, no one seemed to be bothered by the wait. But it’s kinda hard to be bothered with anything at all when this is the setting:

I cut my burger in half, and had the other half for dinner that night - my way of watching calorie intake during that outing.

The steak French fries were from Heaven. Because - again - key word being - fried.

We chose not to have dessert there, as I had special-ordered a few cupcakes from Cinotti’s Bakery to act as the birthday cake dessert, that we would eat at home later that evening.

We thoroughly enjoyed our meal. But the setting was what we especially enjoyed. And it was the action itself of dining out. Leaving the house, driving to a restaurant, reading a menu, and dining amongst others, that was most important to us on that date.

Overall, the Palm Valley Outdoors Bar & Grill was a lovely experience. A great birthday outing. And a fabulous place to try if it happens to be your First Supper as well. The tables are spaced plenty distance apart, and the restaurant is following all the cleaning protocols in place. With employees wearing gloves, and lots of santitzing tables between customers. The setting is more than ideal, with the Intracoastal as a backdrop, and tucked just under and off to the side of the Palm Valley Bridge.

You’ll enjoy the boats coming and going. Paddleboarders going north and south. And you may especially enjoy the countless doggies - sitting on the edge of their owner’s boats. Also taking in all the sights and sounds… and smells… of the salt life, and good food.

It is my sincere hope that for those of you in states where restaurants have also been approved to reopen, just like in Florida, that you use the experience of my First Supper, as a push to get out there yourself. For those still anxiously waiting for your own First Supper. Go ahead and get ready now. Your time is coming. To start your own venture outside. To open your own front door. To step off that front porch. Find yourself an open restaurant. Wait All The Minutes. Get seated. And have a lovely meal. Have your very own First Supper. And, what the heck, maybe even order dessert while you’re at it.

It’s ok to be scared. And by all means, it’s also mostly certainly ok - to be very uncertain. And, just like The Last Supper, it’s ok if you don’t yet know when your First Supper will be. Just keep it in mind. Plan for it. Get it in your head. Because one day, and maybe when you least expect it, it will come to you.

And you can ask yourself - will you be fully alive on that fateful day? Will you be living that day like it’s your last on this Earth? Will you remember the moment - so you know what you’ve got, when it’s gone? And then, finally, who will you be with when that date arrives? ~

Remember when it was somebody’s birthday? Ohhhh, so very, very long ago…

Candles would be lit. A song would be sung. And the birthday boy, or birthday girl, would take in a big breath - with their lungs - and blow out all the candles.

And then everybody would clap.

The cake would be sliced. Every piece passed around - a plate of deliciousness for all at the party. Everybody sharing, in an act of celebration. Another person a year older - another piece of cake to commemorate the occasion.

A fork in one hand. A plate of frosted, sugary goodness in the other.

And without giving it a second thought, everyone would bite into their slice of dessert, even though somebody had just previously breathed upon said cake?

Sacrilege!

Those moments are now gone.

But a girl can dream - right?

No one will look at a birthday cake the same way again now.

Because, while we all still may eat the cake, the sentiment just isn’t the same. And while we all still may sing a song… and candles can still be blown out… the world has once again changed.

And I miss that corresponding sentiment.

I miss a whole lot more than just that though.

I miss it all...

I miss coffee shops.

I miss restaurants.

I miss saying, “Table for two.” - Instead of “Two dinners to go, please.”

I miss smiles on unhidden faces.

I miss laughter.

I miss jokes.

I miss friends.

I miss family.

I miss parties.

I miss the library.

I miss fairs, carnivals, rides, cotton candy, and sno cones.

I miss Art Shows, Art Walks, Art Festivals, craft shows, and concerts.

And I still don’t miss nfl football.

I miss my once a year and very boring visit to the Florida Highway Safety and Motor Vehicle Department. Otherwise known as the FLHSMV. In fact, I miss that a whole heck of a lot more than football.

And I missed out on the opportunity to see Hamilton - right here in Jacksonville, back in March. My tickets - sadly, refunded to my credit card.

I miss the smell of a book, just picked up from the library, as I crack open the spine.

I miss handshakes.

I miss milk shakes.

I miss hugs.

I miss kisses on the cheek.

I miss the darn dentist.

I miss joy and good cheer.

I miss good will to all people.

I miss Christmas.

I miss Walt Disney World.

I miss All-You-Can-Eat Buffets.

I miss unlimited scoops of ice cream, from large tubs, on the dessert line of the above-mentioned buffet. Where I can pick up my own cup, take the cold steel scoop, push it with my own hands into the milky cream, releasing chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry into my own cup. My very own ice cream mountain - as high as I want to make it.

I miss simple get togethers - large and small. I miss people’s faces when I communicate with them. I miss the act of meeting up with those fellow humans - in person. In real life.

I miss being able to hear that fellow human being, clearly, when they speak to me - their unmuffled voice carrying into my ears, and the sound of it not being blocked by a cloth mask.

I miss people treating one another as fellow human beings - and not treating others as the walking plague.

I miss closeness.

I miss happiness all around us.

I miss people leaving their house like it was just another day.

I miss life… I miss seeing other people living their lives.

I miss faith over fear.

But just because I miss all these very simple things, doesn’t mean I haven’t been doing them, and living them, myself.

In fact, I’ve been the busiest in my entire life - during the long and drawn out and quite dramatic duration of this entire, never-ending plague.

Regardless of life outside my own front door. I am breathing. I am communicating. I am celebrating. I am being responsible for myself. I am making my own life decisions. I am sucking it up. I am dealing. I am not only surviving. I am proud and happy to be fully alive. I am living.

I am reading. I am planning. I am dreaming. I am pursuing. I am working hard. I am exercising. I am writing. I am painting. I am utilizing this time to become stronger. To learn. To grow. To try new things.

And most importantly, I am persevering.

And I am coming home from work - and I’m stepping right in the shower, washing the invisible and mysterious and confusing plague off me each night.

And, I’ve learned a lot. And I’ve learned what I already always knew - how imperative each breath we take really is.

So let’s all inhale.

Breathe in - In the face of fear.

Exhale - and keep going, my friends. Exhale and continue onward. Exhale and push forward. Exhale and persevere.

And if it happens to be your birthday, go ahead and exhale a big breath straight onto your very own birthday cake candles...

Yes, I know that’s exactly what we will be doing this weekend.

As we celebrate my hubby’s birthday, we will dine out, along the water’s edge, for our First Supper since the plague began. We will sit at tables, amongst other human beings. All partaking in the common and essential act of breathing, and eating.

And I will pick up the special cupcake creations I ordered from Cinotti’s Bakery. And I will slap some candles on top of the frosted red velvety goodness. I will light the flame.

And I will sing “Happy Birthday!”

And my furry baby will probably sing a lot louder than me.

And most importantly, my hubby will then inhale with his own set of two lungs, and exhale hard on top of all the frosting, extinguishing that flame. And then we will eat all the darn sugar. ~