Funny Friday ~ New Cereals In 2014

It has been reported that General Mills is partnering with Michelle Obama to promote healthy eating. These are the first two products.

Roast Chicken Breasts with Garbanzo Beans, Tomatoes, and Paprika

We had this for supper tonight. It was really easy to fix and excellent for a cold night. I recommend serving it with fresh baked bread too.

Enjoy!

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Roast Chicken Breasts with Garbanzo Beans, Tomatoes, and Paprika
4 servings

Use leftovers for sandwiches the next day. Place shredded chicken, garbanzos, and tomatoes in pita bread and top with yogurt sauce.

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
4 garlic cloves, pressed
1 tablespoon smoked paprika*
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon dried crushed red pepper
1/2 cup plain yogurt or Greek yogurt
4 chicken breast halves with bones
1 15-ounce can garbanzo beans (chickpeas), drained
1 12-ounce container cherry tomatoes
1 cup chopped fresh cilantro, divided

Preheat oven to 450°F. Mix first 5 ingredients in medium bowl. Pour 1 teaspoon spiced oil mixture into small bowl; whisk in yogurt and set aside for sauce. Place chicken on large rimmed baking sheet. Rub 2 tablespoons spiced oil mixture over chicken. Add beans, tomatoes, and 1/2 cup cilantro to remaining spiced oil mixture; toss to coat. Pour bean mixture around chicken. Sprinkle everything generously with salt and pepper.

Roast until chicken is cooked through, about 20 minutes. Sprinkle with 1/2 cup cilantro. Transfer chicken to plates. Spoon bean mixture over. Serve with yogurt sauce.

*Sometimes labeled Pimentón Dulce or Pimentón de La Vera Dulce; available at some supermarkets, at specialty foods stores, and from tienda.com.

Someone Moved My Cheese

I. Have. Had. An. Epically. Rotten. Day.

Today was my usual 6 month health checkup. Things didn’t go as planned.

First, the Physicians Assistant that was attending to me this time, try to push cholesterol medicine on me.

I responded most empathically, “NO”. She finally resorted to scare tactics, “You’ll be at risk for heart attacks, stroke and Alzheimer’s.”

My little BS antenna went up. Alzheimer’s? I know I’m medically challenged but I have kept up with the studies on Alzheimer’s since my step-mother died from this disease. That is no where to be found in any of the research I’ve read.

So, thinking I’m being cool, [cough] I gently changed the subject.

“I’m having mild heart palpitations and trouble sleeping.” (All true.) The PA gave me a prescription for sleeping pills, which I’ve never, ever taken. I really don’t want to go there. And then she mentioned “We need another blood sample and you have to return in one month.”

“Why?!” I asked incredulously.

“Because your symptoms indicate a hyper-thyroid (overactive) problem.”

I know I have hypo-thyroid (underactive) and a small growth on it.

Ok, so, I can deal with that. Not happy, but not devistating.

With that heavy news that now I have to return to the doctor yet again, I took the usual prescriptions for my daily existance to have them filled. I received more unhappy news. According to my pharmacist my new insurance program makes me buy medicine every 30 days instead of the customary 90 days. [I had to change because of The Unaffordable Care Act, i.e. Obamacare.] With the former insurance program, I used to get a discount for buying 90 days at a time. So now, in a nutshell, that means we’ll be spending three times as much on medicine. This year. And, since we live way out in the country, it also entails constant trips to the pharmacy which is not one of my favorite things.

[muttered through gritted teeth] Lovely.

The day went downhill from there with me growling and biting like an old snapping turtle with a sore head. But, giving credit where credit is due, most of it is my own fault. I dislike going to doctors so much I think I set the mood for the visit. I fought with the P.A. trying to give me good advice, which is what I'm paying her for. I’ve felt tired and old of late. It seems I’m perpetually upset over money. And every time Barry Soetoro [his real name, you know] talks and bad mouths our country, my blood pressure shoots up and the veins on my neck stick out. Many times the TV has been in great danger of being altered. [lol]

Speaking of that, I doubt anyone who reads this blog regularly will waste their time watching the PO(TU)S speech? I thought not. I'd much rather have multiple root canals then put through the torture of listening to more lies.

I know, I need to pray and trust more, and think about the world less. I’ve let myself have a bad day. Entirely my own fault.

It must be age, but when someone moves my cheese now, I get all messed up. It's my fault for not leaning on the Lord and His promises.

One bright spot though, the matching Winterberry pie cooler and server set from Pfaltzgraff arrived. (The whole enchilada was less than $20 including shipping). Big heartfelt Thank You's to my dear friend Blackberry Lane for turning me onto this lovely set.

Aren’t they purdy? I'm so anxious to entertain guests so I can Wow them. I wish I could afford to buy the entire set of dishes and cups. Maybe when things are ‘better’ again. I know they will be. God never forgets us in our troubles.

Part Two: The Move To Jacksonville

As I stated in last Monday's post, once weekly I plan to feature a guest writer, my husband. He has been painstakingly writing down the stories of his childhood to share them with his 9 year old niece. I wanted her to know what kind of childhood her beloved Uncle was able to enjoy. While enjoying them myself I thought these are so much fun to read, why not share them? So here are the short missives of his memories of growing up in wilds of Florida during the 1950's and 1960's. They're packed with misadventures, romance, and all the confusing things that can happen in our youth. Even though his hometown of Jacksonville is a big city with over a million residents now, during his childhood it was several small communities surrounded by countryside. 

This is his story.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Move To Jacksonville
by Steven R. Hudson

When I was about four we moved to Jacksonville, FL. We settled into a small rental cottage on Lake Lucina in the Arlington area of Duval County. The cottage was owned by the Dickson family and I believe the road down to the lake is still called Dickson Road. There was a large pear tree in the yard and only a short walk to the lake which was surrounded by Cattails and alive with the trill calls of Red-wing Blackbirds that nested in the reeds. Sometimes Mom would fish at the lake for Bream which were really tasty when fried crisp in corn meal batter.

About this time Dad got a small black and white television. The screen was so small that we had to get very close to watch, but the cabinet it was mounted in was huge and the whole thing looked quite silly compared to the sleek flat screen TV's of today. It was a great deal for us however, as TV was the "new" thing and we were now on the cutting edge of the latest technology. There was only one channel available, WJXT Channel 4. It was our sole source of programming but that was fine with me. I remember lying on the floor in the afternoons, close to the tiny flickering screen watching the "Lone Ranger" battle it out with bad guys, Tonto at his side and his horse Silver carrying him into the western sunset after another victory for law and order. Next was "The Cisco Kid" and justice meted out with a Spanish accent. After supper, the local news with Bill Grove and then the National News on CBS with Douglas Edwards.

My first trip to the emergency room occurred when we lived here. Mom had caught some Bream in the lake and fried them up that evening for supper. Mom would always pull my fish apart before I ate to check for small bones but this time she missed one and the bone was stuck solidly in my throat. I began to cough and cry and I can still remember how uncomfortable and scared I was. Dad put me in the car and rushed me to the emergency room where the bone suddenly passed about the time we arrived. Crisis over. 

We lived in that cottage only a short time. Dad bought us our first house in a brand new subdivision called Center Park. We were now only seven miles from Jacksonville Beach, on the newly four-laned Beach Blvd and bordered on every side by thousands of acres of beautiful woodlands. There was a large creek that flowed north to south on one side of the area and crossed under Beach Blvd., disappearing into moss laden oaks that lined it's banks. There were many vacant lots that had not been built on and a huge stand of Cypress trees and Oaks, like a great wooded park, that stood square in the middle of the subdivision. I and the many new friends I would make here named this park, "Sherwood Forest". Moving here was the beginning of a great adventure and the golden years of my childhood.

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Two Minutes With The Bible ~ Teach No Other Doctrine

Teach No Other Doctrine

by Pastor Cornelius R. Stam

Berean Bible Society
Printer Friendly Version

In strong language the Apostle bids Timothy to “charge some that they teach no other doctrine”; no other doctrine, obviously, than that which he had taught them. In 1 Tim. 6:3-5 he closes his epistle by saying:

“If any man teach otherwise, and consent not to wholesome words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ… from such withdraw thyself.”

In these passages the Apostle emphasizes the importance of fidelity to that heaven-sent message committed to him by revelation; that message which he says in Tit. 1:2,3 was “promised before the ages began” but made known “in due time … through preaching which is committed unto me…”

Ever since Paul’s day religious leaders have substituted other messages for that committed by the glorified Lord to Paul. The law of Moses, the Sermon on the Mount, the “great commission,” and Pentecost have all been confused with God’s message and program for the dispensation of grace. This is what has bewildered and divided the Church and ripened it for the apostasy.

With all the confused thinking about the Ten Commandments and the Sermon on the Mount fifty years ago it was little wonder that modernism swept so many off their feet with its teachings about Jesus of Nazareth, the Man of Galilee, following his footsteps, social betterment, political reform, etc. Multitudes were so taken up with the social gospel, so eager to help make the world a better place to live in, that they did not even notice or believe that the modernists denied the very fundamentals of the Christian faith.

But the new evangelicalism of our day is still more dangerous. It is big. It is well financed. It is popular. It is subtle. Perhaps its greatest danger lies in the fact that while claiming to be “conservative,” it minimizes the importance of the fundamentals and the danger of apostatizing from them.

Thus the inspired words of the Apostle Paul: “Charge some that they teach no other doctrine,” are more urgently needed in our day than they were in his.

---

To the Reader:
Some of our Two Minutes articles were written many years ago by Pastor C. R. Stam for publication in newspapers. When many of these articles were later compiled in book form, Pastor Stam wrote this word of explanation in the Preface:

"It should be borne in mind that the newspaper column, Two Minutes With the Bible, has now been published for many years, so that local, national and international events are discussed as if they occurred only recently. Rather than rewrite or date such articles, we have left them just as they were when first published. This, we felt, would add to the interest, especially since our readers understand that they first appeared as newspaper articles."

To this we would add that the same is true for the articles written by others that we continue to add, on a regular basis, to the Two Minutes library. We hope that you'll agree that while some of the references in these articles are dated, the spiritual truths taught therein are timeless.

Ride Like The Wind #Honda

Hubby finally traded his 2006 Moto Guzzi Breva! He's had it For Sale for several weeks. Cycles of Jacksonville traded him for a 2013 Honda CB1100. He is very pleased with the outcome.

It's been a long but productive day. I'm really weary from the journey down to Jax and back. So, here's the day in pictures.

Preparing for the test ride.

Steve said he could tell this was the bike

for him after only traveling a few feet to

the curb.

Salesman Christian Stahl and Steve

seal the deal with a handshake.

Then, we where asked to ring

the bell behind them. That was

kinda cute.

 

Now we have a new metal steed

in the stables. Can't wait for a nice

day to take it for a long spin.

Guess I'm going to have to update the blog banner too.

I'll leave that for tomorrow.

 

Funny Friday ~ Falling Obama

A little guilty pleasure here. It's good therapy too.

By the way, got something special going on this weekend. I'll share it at a later time but stay tuned sports fans .... [hint: it involves two wheels ... duh] *lol*

Love Will Keep Us Together But Healthcare Could Drive Us Apart

One of my favorite soft rock groups from the 70s, The Captain and Tennille, have filed for divorce. But it seems they didn’t run out of Muskrat Love. The story is that “The Captain“, Daryl Dragon, is terminally ill with a neurological disorder (something similar to Parkinson‘s) which means he will be running up a huge medical bill. In order to keep their estate intact, he had to sign over everything to wife Toni, file for divorce, so that the government nor creditors can‘t seize his assets. Thankfully Toni will still be his Angel Face.

This reminds me how we had a neighbor that died from the complications of Parkinson’s disease not too long ago. In my opinion it’s one of the awful ways 'to go'. [Not that there is a good way, but I think you get my drift.] We watched him die an agonizing, slow, humiliating death. The Captain certainly has my prayers.

Hubby and I discussed financial possibilities at length after reading the article. He said one of us being stricken with a terminal illness could be a real possibly some day. It's something many people are forced into. Our bodies are going to corruption. Good thing for those of us who believe in Jesus, we are in God’s hands. Hopefully, we will never be faced with such a heart wrenching decision, but I can understand why The Captain and Tennille had to go this route. I would do everything I had to do to protect what little I have too.

What a sad world we live in. Guess I need to keep a song of joy in my heart. Well, at least their music will go on.

Pork Chops With Roasted Sweet Potatoes And Brussel Sprouts

We had this tonight. It's especially appetizing on a cold winter's eve. Enjoy!

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Ingredients:
2 Sweet Potatoes, peeled and diced small

1/2 lb Brussel Sprouts, washed and trimmed

4 Thick cut boneless Pork Chops

Salt and Pepper to taste

1 tsp Sage

Canola oil

1/2 cup Honey

1/4 cup Spicy Mustard

Directions:

Add some Canola oil to a large fry pan, add the small pieces of diced Sweet Potatoes and Brussel Sprouts, salt and pepper to taste and stir fry until they start to brown and tenderize.

Transfer the tenderized veggies to a mixing bowl, and a bit more Canola oil to the fry pan and brown the Pork Chops on one side.

Transfer the browned Chops to an oiled baking dish, browned side up and sprinkle the sage on the chops along with salt and pepper to taste.

Add the veggies to the baking dish.

Mix the Honey and Mustard in a bowl then pour over the mixture in the baking dish.

Bake at 375 for 35 minutes or until the Sweet Potatoes are tender to a fork.

Remove from oven and let set for 5 minutes.

Serves 4

For My Friends Up North #PolarVortex

I hear there's more polar blast predicted for the Northeast.

Non Sequitur

 [hee hee hee]

But, seriously, stay safe up there folks.

The Beginning: Memories Of Fort Pierce

Monday's I plan to feature a guest writer, my husband. He has been painstakingly writing down the stories of his childhood to share them with his 9 year old niece. I wanted her to know what kind of childhood her beloved Uncle was able to enjoy. While enjoying them myself I thought these are so much fun to read, why not share them? So here are the short missives of his memories of growing up in wilds of Florida during the 1950's and 1960's. They're packed with misadventures, romance, and all the confusing things that can happen in our youth. Even though his hometown of Jacksonville is a big city with over a million residents now, during his childhood it was several small communities surrounded by countryside. 

This is his story.

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Memories of Fort Pierce

by Steven R. Hudson

The following stories are a collection of memories that I have been encouraged to put into writing by those who love me despite my many faults. Even though my life has not been one marked by great deeds or accomplishments, perhaps it will be a picture of life as it was many years ago before cell phones and video games. When children ran barefoot and innocent along forest paths and creek banks. 

One of my earliest recollections is staying with my maternal grandmother. She and my mother's stepfather lived on Angle Road in Ft. Pierce, Florida, in an area that was at that time, typical

south Florida pine woods. Grandma "Cootie" as she was known by me and my cousins kept chickens and turkeys for meat and eggs, had a concrete goldfish pond in front of the house and a yard full of Chihuahua dogs. I was 2 to 3 years old at this time and the fish pond was a source of great wonder for me. Perhaps it was the fluid movements of the goldfish that brought out a hunter instinct of a sort. I needed to find a sharp stick and spear one of these golden colored wonders. Stick found, I went after my prey and actually managed to spear one of grandma's prized goldfish. Grandma, however, was not amused by what I had done and I was punished with a good and proper "switching" with my own fish spear. This punishment may seem harsh by today's standards but the "switch" was a common type of discipline in those times and was an effective way to discourage wrongful acts. 

Grandma Cootie was a strict but very loving lady. She adored her grandchildren and would walk through fire to protect her family, displaying a fearlessness that belied her small 4' 10" stature. One day I was helping her gather eggs in the poultry yard and was attacked by a big tom turkey that managed to spur me good before grandma was able to get the bird away from me. After checking to see that I was not badly hurt, she retrieved a hatchet and promptly killed the turkey then dressed it. Later we all had a nice roast turkey dinner, compliments of the old belligerent bird.

Our family has always been a family of fishermen mostly out of necessity back then. Fresh fish was often on the evening menu and was the staple of most people of moderate means. We ate Snapper, Sea Trout, Croaker, Red Fish, Flounder and our favorite, Snook. Fish were abundant then. The river and creek banks were covered with Sea Grapes and Mangroves instead of condos and expensive houses like today. Fishing was as easy as driving down to the river bank and throwing out a baited hook. A fishing license was not needed and there were no size or number limits on the fish you caught. We never caught more fish than we needed, just enough for supper, served up with homemade hush puppies and cheese grits. We ate like royalty and did not even realize we were rich beyond measure. I can still see a picture in my mind of one of the fishing spots we went to then. I remember a beautiful tidal creek and a muddy bank at the water's edge covered with the holes of Fiddler Crabs. Spider-like roots of Mangroves formed a barrier on each side of the creek bank and you could see schools of Mullet cruising the shallow water. It was a splendid place.

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Two Minutes With The Bible ~ Small Change And A Free Gift

Small Change and a Free Gift

by Pastor Cornelius R. Stam

Berean Bible Society
Printer Friendly Version

Has the cashier at the restaurant or the check-out girl at the supermart been asking you: “Do you have the two cents?” or “You don’t have the change, do you?” If so, it’s because there is a coin shortage all over the U.S. and will be for some time.

All kinds of coin-using machines have created a shortage of coins for other purposes. Isn’t it strange: a penny is hardly worth picking up these days, and President Eisenhower called our dollars “dollarettes,” yet people seem to be spending more money in small amounts.

You can make more and more purchases with coins these days. Some people say that you can buy anything with money, but they’re wrong — very wrong.
The things we need most cannot be bought with any amount of money. The air we breathe, the water we drink (we pay only for the service), love of family and friends. These things can’t be bought. And the most precious treasure of all: salvation, eternal life, can’t be bought at any price.

God doesn’t want our money. He calls it “filthy lucre.” He’s not going into business, selling houses and lots in heaven, much less will He pervert justice and pronounce us innocent for a consideration. But He does pity and love us and He can and will give us eternal life if we trust in the merits of the One who died to pay the penalty for our sins.

“The gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom. 6:23).

“For by grace are ye saved, through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God” (Eph. 2:8).

Our Lord said to the Samaritan woman:

“If thou knewest the gift of God … thou wouldest have asked …” (John 4:10).

Have you asked?

---

To the Reader:
Some of our Two Minutes articles were written many years ago by Pastor C. R. Stam for publication in newspapers. When many of these articles were later compiled in book form, Pastor Stam wrote this word of explanation in the Preface:

"It should be borne in mind that the newspaper column, Two Minutes With the Bible, has now been published for many years, so that local, national and international events are discussed as if they occurred only recently. Rather than rewrite or date such articles, we have left them just as they were when first published. This, we felt, would add to the interest, especially since our readers understand that they first appeared as newspaper articles."

To this we would add that the same is true for the articles written by others that we continue to add, on a regular basis, to the Two Minutes library. We hope that you'll agree that while some of the references in these articles are dated, the spiritual truths taught therein are timeless.

 

Cousins By The Dozens

This is just, I think, an interesting little tidbit. I promised to tie in the journey to find my roots, and how it also involves, albeit in a small way, the quest for a life in the country and how I ended up in Georgia.

Dad was always in a hurry "to make good time" [whatever that is] when we traveled. Being a kid, I desired to linger in the beautiful woods that went whizzing past the car windows. On one trip home from western Pennsylvania (early 1960's and pre-Interstate), I have a vague memory of begging Dad to stop in Georgia. I wanted to touch some of that lovely red clay that lined the roadsides in my hands. Red clay was fascinating to a Central Florida girl who grew up with thickets of flat scrub pines, palmettos and sugar sand. Most of the time, he would just shout he was in a hurry. But this time he stopped at a clay embankment, scooped up the clay putting it into a bag, then slung it at me in the car. "Here!" he mumbled, as he mashed the pedal of the Chevy and it heaved itself down the road. I was so pleased to have that silly clay! I kept it for a long, long time. From the very start, something drew me to the Georgia countryside. Was it the natural beauty or was it something deeper?

Back to the Big Land Hunt: we just couldn’t find anything suitable in Florida in our price range. I suggested to my ever patient, understanding husband about venturing further North into southeast Georgia. The siren call of the red clay was still there, little did I know why.

After finding the maternal side of my birth family, we settled into the time consuming part of getting to know each other. That went over fairly well for

people who are basically strangers. We had so little in common, though. Even with satisfying my curiosity about my birth-mother, I still felt empty, disconnected, and left with a hunger to learn more about my family. I still wanted something that would help me feel like I too belonged on this planet and had a purpose. So, I resolved that I would go further back in the family tree.

In the interim, we had moved to our current location in southeast Georgia, in the Spring of 1993. By that time the Internet for public use was coming into it’s own. For us country mice, it was dial-up and very slow, but it almost always worked. Communications where opened up between history researchers. FamilyTreeMaker software for home use premiered. Many Courthouses and Genealogists now had their public info on-line. All this made researching for the Financially Impaired so much easier. I took up the reins of research with the greatest of ease. To aid in the search I ordered the customary Marriage Licenses, Birth and Death Certificates, visited courthouses for documents with my family‘s name on it. Photographed cemetery tombstones hoping for connections. From one of the documents I had ordered I learn my grandmother, Bessie Moore, first wife of George Baxter McMahan and mother to my birth-mother, Marian Estelle "Mary" McMahan, was born in Axson (Atkinson County), Georgia before her parents moved to Florida during the first Great Depression. “Oh, my goodness”, I thought, “I’ll never find her parents, let alone her grandparents. She might as well have been a Smith!” Oh ye of little faith! I was worried over nothing. Thanks to Folks Huxford and his Pioneers of Wiregrass Georgia books, to whom many of us owe much, and his cursory research of the Moore Family in Clinch and surrounding countries, I made all kinds of connections. It was so exciting to find more of my blood kin. At that point I at least had a basic outline of Who's Who in part of my Family Tree. And the further I dug into the research, I was shocked because I had moved into an area where I must be related to a good three quarters of the population. I belonged here! I had truly moved HOME.

So not only had God “adopted“ me spiritually when I first believed in Him, but in His wisdom He gave me more family than I can shake a stick at. He knew I needed this physical connection. It satisfied the deep seated yearning for an association to something or someone deep in my soul. It has brought me comfort and peace that I never had growing up. My Lord is indeed forevermore loving and kind to even the least of His servants. Thank you Lord!

But even there, the story does not end. All the information I had gleaned up to that point was relatively easy compared to how I later found my birth-father from a woman whom was deceased, that I never met, that didn't tell her sisters nor was his name on any of my adoption documents. (I know because I had the records opened by court order.) That story is a novelette from which I will spare my readers. [smile]

The Lesson? Life can take a lot of twists and turns but when we trust Jesus, He will indeed take care of us "exceedingly and abundantly above all we can ask or think" [Ephesians 3:20-21]. He truly will carry us Home whatever that "home" is that we all need. Just be sure you enjoy curvy roads.

Georgia On My Mind

In the past when people would ask me where I am from, I would temporarily go blank. A fragmented, unhappy childhood had left me like a blank slate. Like an orphan tossed on the seas of life, it seems that I had always yearrned for a place I could call Home. My official Home Town never felt like home, so, where did I come from? Where did I belong? I longed, deeply, to find a place to call my own.

Descendants of German immigrants, my adopted parents where born and raised on farms in western Pennsylvania during The Great Depression. They

married and moved to a small town in Central Florida as a young couple in the early 1950's.  Apparently, Mom could not bare children but I've never learned why. After six years of being on the adoption list, they found an underaged young lady "in trouble" and adopted yours truly. When I was a wee tot, on the rare occasions we traveled to their native Pennsylvania, they would take the time to visit old friends or family still living on farms. I fell in love with the countryside right then and there. I felt a kinship with the trees, the wildlife, the smells, the gentle sounds, the clean air and most of all, the solitude. Even the small town was already beginning to be too much for me. I wanted to enjoy the night stars without the light pollution. I yearned to hear the crickets singing and chase fireflies from a back porch.

Psalms 27:10 "When my father and my mother forsake me, Then the Lord will take me up."

What I share next is not to illicit sympathy but to lay the ground work for this story explaining the reason for my feeling so disconnected. Very rarely do I dwell on this small part of my life. These are only shadows and ghosts of the past. I've given it to God and He has lovingly hidden the hurt away.

I think I was fairly happy as a small child before my mother died in 1966, I don't remember. All I do remember is losing the only mother I'd ever known

that sweltering August day. After the funeral Dad made it abundantly clear he didn’t want me around anymore. It turned my already fragile world upside down. My earliest memory is her funeral with Dad telling me to “Shut up, what do you care?! You’re only adopted anyway.” Yeah, he said that to a grieving 10 year old child. I felt like someone had reached into my chest and stopped my heart from beating. Dad was keen on yelling curse words, snapping belittling remarks (his favorite were I was a bastard, and how stupid I was), open hand slap any body part too close to him, or glare at me for seemingly no reason. I started running away. My grades where failing. I became a bit of a day dreamer. The school psychiatrist was as much help as breasts on a boar hog. Two step-mothers later, things where a little improved. At least the last one was a Christian and wasn't abusive. We had our differences, but still she had a good heart. When I was 14 I gave my heart to Christ in a little non-denominational church. Kneeling at the cross (emotionally) I knew I was a sinner, unworthy of His forgiveness but told Him I believed in Him and to do with me as He will. At least I knew He would never leave me! He gave me the strength to go on. His guidance gave me the fortitude to buckle down, get a good education and get the heck out of Dodge as soon as it was legal. When I turned 18 it was made clear I was no longer welcome in that house. No home there! Frightened and with no confidence in my abilities, I married the first man that asked and in the infamous words of Jimmy Buffett “it cost me much more than a ring“. My first husband wasn’t a bad guy but we where definitely mismatched. He wasn't my 'home' either. Thankfully, we parted on amicable terms without too much damage done.

After all that, my current hubby and I met, then tied the knot. Thankfully, he shared my vision of living in the country. It was going to be a difficult task

since we where living in the Big City, in a State where property was expensive and we are not people of means. Thankfully, by now it was the '80s and times where good. With good jobs and lots of prospects for improvement we worked hard for 18 years. It was exciting to dream and plan. However, even though there can be lots of money to be made in a metropolis, a city setting is emotionally crushing to me. I felt stifled, fought a lot of airborn illnesses, and the stress of living so close to others kept my nerves on edge. I fought the crushing sadness that seemed to follow me like a black cloud. 

In 1981, I was working for a gentleman who was also adopted. He urged me to begin searching for my birth parents. Through his assistance, I managed to learn who my birth-mother was. After many phones calls, letters and false starts I had located her within a few weeks. (Again, God's mercy!) Regrettably, though, I was about 18 months too late to speak to my birth-mother as she had died in a traffic accident not far from where I was then living. But I did manage to make contact with a half sister, two half brothers, several aunts, an uncle and my grandfather. It was a rich and rewarding experience. Trust me, like all things great and small in our lives, this ties in. 

For years we continued the search for land. We wanted that perfect location

where it would be our forever home. On weekends when we weren’t repairing our 1952 Florida home, or out in the woods, we where looking at land. Dreaming about land. Praying for land! I think I exhausted every place in Florida I could think of. Then, I got the notion to start looking in southeast Georgia. One Saturday, after a, what I thought, wasted trip to Reidsville, Georgia, to look at more land for sale, we passed a sign on Highway 121 for a local realtor in Blackshear. It was late so I wrote the number down (this was pre-cell phones, after all) and after driving home, made an appointment for the next weekend to look at property. Short story long [smile], the nice young lady took us city folks all around this postage stamp sized county. It seemed every place I looked at it was “still too close to town”. I guess she couldn't believe that we would want to live so far out. Several available properties later, she finally believed me, and took us out to this place. 

Leviticus 25:23 "The land shall not be sold in perpetuity, for the land is mine. For you are strangers and sojourners with me."

It’s no kidding, as soon as I stepped out of her car, and my foot hit the property, with the towering oaks and pines, the inviting quiet, the simple country road, I knew this was it! My heart sang with joy! Hubby and I prayed for success. God mercifully opened the doors for the loan to go through without a hitch. Then we started down the long, curvy road of making this our permanent residence. It would take almost 8 more years of scrimping and saving but we where finally on the way Home. 

The Pink Cast Away

I didn’t want to get out of bed today. The ongoing cold, damp weather and

concern over our little niece, had me emotionally hamstrung. I didn’t want to move. What happened? Well, Amberlee fell off her Razor Scooter this weekend and, we think, broke her elbow and/or wrist. She was rushed to the Hospital (had a 2 hour wait!!) and all they could do was give her painkillers. Poor dear has been in mind numbing pain all weekend. This afternoon her parents managed to get into to see a Pediatric Orthopedic and he gave her this “cool pink cast”. (Her words) *lol*

This morning, Hubby said, “Let’s get up lazy bones and have a warm breakfast. Then drive on into Blackshear to get a few items.” I didn’t want to go but I did anyway. Now I’m glad I did. At the grocery store I got the notion to take the steel steeds out for a spin. The weather is very pretty today (temp of about 65 degrees), sun is shining, with a light wind. It’s a little hazy but that’s kinda nice on a bike. Less glare that way. But I see where there's more rain approaching.

*sigh*

We did a Turn and Burn to Baxley, stopping for lunch at our favorite Chinese restaurant.

Now I’m in a happy mood!

Here’s a little joke for you I found at Carol B.’s blog (carolsdailylifeandstuff.blogspot.com):

Now that I'm old(er), I've discovered a few things:
ONE- I started out with nothing, and I still have most of it.
TWO- My wild oats have turned into prunes and All Bran.
THREE- I finally got my head together; now my body is falling apart.
FOUR- Funny, I don't remember being absent minded.
FIVE- All reports are in; life is now officially unfair.
SIX- If all is not lost, where is it?
SEVEN- It is easier to get older than it is to get wiser.
EIGHT- Some days you're the dog; some days you're the hydrant.
NINE- I wish the buck stopped here; I sure could use a few...
TEN- Kids in the back seat cause accidents.
ELEVEN- Accidents in the back seat cause ... kids.
TWELVE- It's hard to make a comeback when you haven't been anywhere.
THIRTEEN- Only time the world beats a path to your door is when you're in the bathroom.
FOURTEEN- If God wanted me to touch my toes, he would have put them on my knees.
FIFTEEN- When I'm finally holding all the cards, why does everyone decide to play chess?
SIXTEEN- It's not hard to meet expenses ... they're everywhere.
SEVENTEEN- The only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth.
EIGHTEEN- These days, I spend a lot of time thinking about the hereafter ... I go somewhere to get something and then wonder what I'm here after.

Y'all stay safe and warm out there.

Two Minutes With The Bible ~ The Dispensation of Grace

The Dispensation of Grace

by Pastor Cornelius R. Stam

Berean Bible Society
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Many people have a mistaken notion that a dispensation is a period of time. This is not so, however, for the word “dispense” means simply “to deal out”. The word “dispensation”, then, means “the act of dispensing or dealing out”, or “that which is dispensed or dealt out”.

There are medical dispensaries, for example, where medicines are dispensed to the poor. Sometimes these dispensations are conducted on a particular day of each week. Such a dispensation of medicine may take a full twelve hours each week, but it does not follow from this that a dispensation is a period of twelve hours! It is rather the act of dispensing or that which is dispensed.

The word “dispensation” is used many times in the Bible, although it is not always translated the same way. In Ephesians 3:2, Paul writes of “the dispensation of the grace of God, which is given me to you-ward”. God had committed to him wonderful message of grace to dispense to others. Thus we read in Acts 20:24 his stirring words, spoken in the face of persecution and death:

“But none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, AND THE MINISTRY WHICH I HAVE RECEIVED OF THE LORD JESUS, TO TESTIFY THE GOSPEL OF THE GRACE OF GOD.”

The “gospel” or “good news” of the grace of God: This was the dispensation committed to Paul for us by the risen, ascended Lord. This is always Paul’s message.

“Where sin abounded GRACE did much more abound…the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His GRACE… justified freely by His GRACE, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus…by GRACE are ye saved, through faith” (Rom.5:20; Eph.1:7; Rom.3:24; Eph. 2:8,9).

---

To the Reader:
Some of our Two Minutes articles were written many years ago by Pastor C. R. Stam for publication in newspapers. When many of these articles were later compiled in book form, Pastor Stam wrote this word of explanation in the Preface:

"It should be borne in mind that the newspaper column, Two Minutes With the Bible, has now been published for many years, so that local, national and international events are discussed as if they occurred only recently. Rather than rewrite or date such articles, we have left them just as they were when first published. This, we felt, would add to the interest, especially since our readers understand that they first appeared as newspaper articles."

To this we would add that the same is true for the articles written by others that we continue to add, on a regular basis, to the Two Minutes library. We hope that you'll agree that while some of the references in these articles are dated, the spiritual truths taught therein are timeless.

 

A Conversation Between My Fingers And My Brain

 

A few posts back, I really poured my heart out in a letter to the world in general, and to my readers specifically, on how I feel about the newly sainted homosexual movement. The only thing about writing a profundity that seemed to have touched so many is I have now put undue pressure on myself to always be clever or pithy in these humble missives. I worry that my readers will expect such top notch writing every time. I let it cripple me creatively unnecessarily. I know it's my own doing as I am my own worse critic. How does one get past that? I feel that my writing is similar to the broken clock scenario of being right at least twice a day. Or, as I am so fond of quoting, even a blind hog finds an acorn now and then. I think I'm more apt with quips, one-liners, and "drive by" comments than actual heartfelt articles.

Most of the time I have the attention span of a five year old. Something sparkly comes along, and off I go on a different tangent. I know my scattered brain must confuse my orderly fingers. The two are definitely an Odd Couple. My once speedy fingers have slowed with arthritis and age. They will be all set to spell out what I feel is a profundity in verse that the brain has cooked up, but before it can congeal into something coherent and printable, my thoughts have wandered elsewhere, leaving my frustrated fingers in mid-stride to figure out what in the world it was trying to say.

The conversation in my head:

Fingers: Was that an epiphany that just skirted by? Sounded good. Let's get this down on paper for the blog.

Brain: Huh? That was so 5 seconds ago. Keep up would ya?

Fingers: Well, you had a good thought there. Let's share it.

Brain: Oh, look, a squirrel ...

This is what I have to deal with every day.

I wonder how my readers share their thoughts. Do you have the same problem or am I just hopelessly weird? Do you put pen to paper and draw out an outline? I am so envious of those who can sit in front of the computer with a general thought and it all pours out and is still coherent. Whatever the choice it sure seems to work for the people I follow. I'm envious of your thoughts that are always so entertaining. Thank you for sharing yours.

~ Ride Safe ~

Sparky

Funny Friday ~ Math Quiz

Here is some simple math for you.

A simple trick that you can have fun with and share with your friends. 

This really works and will only take you about ten seconds!

And in the process you will identify your all-time favorite movie.

It is amazing it really works.

Each time I got the same answer, and sure enough it IS my very favorite movie EVER!

DO NOT cheat. DO YOUR math, THEN compare the results to the list of movies at the bottom.

You will be AMAZED at how scary, true and accurate this test really is.

1. Pick a number from 1-9.

2. Multiply that number by 3.

3. Add 3.

4. Multiply by 3 again.

5. Your total will be a two digit number. 

6. Add the first and second digits together to find the number of your favorite movie (of all time)

It will be in the list of 17 movies below:

Movie List:

1. Gone With the Wind

2. E.T.

3. Blazing Saddles    

4. Star Wars    

5. Forrest Gump    

6. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugl

7. Jaws    

8. Grease    

9. The Obama Farewell Speech    

10. Casablanca    

11. Jurassic Park    

12. Shrek    

13. Pirates of the Caribbean

14. Titanic    

15. Raiders of the Lost Ark    

16. Home Alone    

17. Mrs. Doubtfire

 Now, isn't that something

~ Ride Safe ~

Sparky

Rightly Dividing The Word Of Truth: A Personal Testimony

 

I feel burdened by the Holy Spirit to share something tonight.

When I was growing up in Small Town USA, I felt left out that my family wasn’t affiliated with any one particular religion or philosophy. Religiously speaking I guess you could say I was a blank slate waiting for someone to grab a piece of chalk and start writing. (I was so rebellious, though, I always kept the erasers ready.) My adopted family considered themselves “Protestant“ but I‘ve never identified myself as one.

Like most people, I’ve searched for God in my own way, with lots of tumbles and stumbles. It was in 1983 that I first heard the unadulterated version of the “Gospel of Grace” and about “… rightly dividing the Word of truth …”. This message for today was given to us, the Gentiles, through the Apostle Paul. When I heard the Word rightly divided I knew that that was the answer to all my questions! My heart leapt with joy!

Ever have the unsaved say, “The Bible contradicts itself. It doesn’t make any sense.“ I have. To those who do not “rightly divide” [II Tim. 2:15] it does seem to contradict itself. This is the truth and I shall share it. The Bible is divided in sections or dispensations of time. Some of it, is not our (the Gentiles during this age of Grace) mail. “All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness” [II Tim. 3:16] but not all scripture is meant for us during “this present evil age” [Gal. 1:4] (aka The Age of Grace). During this age, the ONLY way to be saved is by faith in the innocent shed blood of Jesus Christ, not the yoke of the law. [The 10 Commandments in Exodus 20 and all the other laws listed] The law was given not as a guide to salvation but was given instead by God to convict all men of their sin. We are condemned to death by the law. Jesus took this requirement away at His crucifixion and resurrection. They where nailed on the cross with Him. Gone forever. All these where taken away as requirements for believing in God and being saved. These works now are all empty and mean nothing to Him during this age. We’re in a, for lack of a better word, bubble, that was kept hidden from the ages [Col. 1:26] and revealed slowly through the Apostle Paul. The clock of time has stopped ticking. Once this dispensation passes away, at the Rapture of the Saints [I Thess. 4:17-18], all this free stuff goes away too. Then the clock starts ticking again and there will be outward signs of salvation required. This is a limited time offer in our Age of Grace.

Step outside the comfort zone. Research all I have put here. Release yourself and your family from the yoke of bondage and be set free. Then spread the Word to others. That's what we're suppose to do.

My earnest prayer is for all to feel an inner peace that only God can give.


Suggested Reading: The Gospel For Today’s Age Of Grace

This book help lead me to Christ:
Rightly Dividing The Word Of Truth by Clarence Larkin

~ Ride Safe ~

Sparky

Two Minutes With The Bible ~ Conversation Peace

Conversation Peace

by Pastor Ricky Kurth

Berean Bible Society
Printer Friendly Version

“Only let your conversation be as it becometh the gospel of Christ: that whether I come and see you, or else be absent, I may hear of your affairs, that ye stand fast in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel” (Phil. 1:27).

Interestingly, whenever Paul uses the phrase “stand fast,” it is always to challenge people to stand fast in an area in which they were not standing fast! For instance, he tells the Corinthians to “stand fast in the faith” (I Cor. 16:13), for they had lost their faith in one of the fundamentals of the faith, the resurrection (I Cor. 15:12-50). He told the Galatians to “stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free” (Gal. 5:1) because they were forsaking grace for the law. He told the Thessalonians to “stand fast, and hold the traditions which ye have been taught” (II Thes. 2:15), especially the “tradition” of working for a living (3:7-12). The Thessalonians had become so excited about the Rapture that many of them quit their jobs in anticipation of the Lord’s coming!

But here in Philippians 1:27, Paul tells the Philippians to “stand fast in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel.” This is because two ladies in the church were quarreling (4:2), and some in the church were siding with Euodias and some with Syntyche. “Striving together” is the Greek word sunathleo. The prefix sun means together with, and athleo is the word from which we get athlete and athletics. Athletes are often teammates who must strive together to achieve a common victory, and this is what Paul was calling on the Philippians to do for the cause of Christ.

Notice Paul isn’t talking about faith in the gospel. The faith of the gospel is our faithfulness or fidelity to maintaining the gospel as God gave it, just as old “high-fi” or “high-fidelity” records claimed to be highly faithful to the sound recorded in the studio. We are to strive together to maintain fidelity to the gospel God gave to Paul.

Finally, Paul does not say we should strive with one another for the faith of the gospel. He rather says we should be striving “together” as those who see the fellowship of the mystery with those who don’t. With all the talk about “peace on earth”, how refreshing it would be if we could enjoy the “conversation peace” Paul longed to see in Philippi! (Psa. 133:1; Eph. 4:3).

Did You Snow?

“Come now, and let us reason together,” saith the Lord. “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." [Isaiah 1:18] KJV

I’ve been sitting here in my toasty warm southern abode, smelling the scrumptious aromas wafting from the kitchen. What's in the pot? We're cooking a revised version of Mrs. Garcia’s Black Bean Soup. It's simmering on the stove for our evening repast (served with crispy Italian Bread, of course). I‘ve been wondering how my bloggy friends are holding out further north with that scary snow storm pounding the Northeast like a fist. Our area has warmed slightly and it’s dried out. No hope of snow here, I should think.

Being a "deep south" girl, snow is an almost magical phenomena to me. I didn’t grow up with it nor have I ever really experienced real snowfall. I have been in what is commonly called “a flurry“. Big woof, right? [lol] Reader’s Digest Special Humor Issue this month has an article about snow called The White Stuff.

Here are a couple of snow facts from the article:

Q: Do you know why we see snow as white?

A: It is all to do with how the sides of the snowflakes reflect light. All the colors in the spectrum scatter out from the snow in roughly equal proportions, which we perceive as whiteness. Very deep snow can appear blue.

Q: Is it true that no two snowflakes are alike?

A: Yes. Every snowflake has a basic six-sided structure, but because of its spiraling descent it sculpts each in a unique way. Air temperature and moisture make the difference.

Then there’s snowflakes and snow crystals. And on and on. There’s more such interesting facts on snow available on the internet.

I'll be so thankful when we can ride again but I know up North that's not a possibly for many more weeks. The weather is simply not cooperating. Or, is that an understatement? [smile] And I just wanted to say I am praying for everyone to stay warm and safe this weekend.

~ Ride Safe ~

Sparky

American Thinker: Obama's Other Big Lie

The following article is brilliantly researched and written concerning Obama's Hawaiian birth certificiate. Quite enlightening, as well. I pasted the whole article here in case "someone" ever tries to have it deleted.

Not. That. That. Would. Ever. [cough] Happen.

By the way, did you know that Health Director Loretta Fuddy, the only person who witnessed the pre-amended birth certificate of Barry Soetoro (who now magically without benefit of those fussy things called legal documents, goes by the name Barack Hussein Obama) and issued the forgery given to the press, died in a plane crash recently? She was the only one to die out of all the many passengers on board. Makes one think, doesn't it ...

This is why I know that every piece of legislation or executive fiat that this man has signed is bogus. All such signatures should be made null and void. Everything about him is illegal, immoral, and deeply troubling. Just like any tin horn dictator, past, present or future, he's a cancer on the backside of the world.

Sparky

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

American Thinker
January 3, 2014 
Obama's Other Big Lie 
By Nick Chase

"We will keep this promise to the American people: If you like your doctor you will be able to keep your doctor. Period. If you like your healthcare plan, you will be able to keep your healthcare plan. Period." (Barack Obama, June 15, 2009, with variants repeated many times since). 

Today, any American who isn't willfully blind knows this "promise" is a very big lie. A lie which was deliberately told by fundamentally-dishonest pushers of Obamacare, because if the truth were widely known at that time the Affordable Care Act would never have become law.

It's a lie that is so egregious, even the dinosaur media can't ignore it or cover it up. In fact, the dinosaurs are increasingly upset that they're being continually abused be "the most transparent administration in history" and they now seem to be more willing to shed light not just on this lie, but also on some of Obama's other lies.

Do you suppose we could get them to take another look at the big lie of April 27, 2011? The lie that is central to Barack Obama's identity? The lie the dinosaurs not only glossed over, but for which they excommunicated from the human race anybody who dared to point out it was a lie?

I refer, of course, to the long-form "birth certificate" forgery for Barack Obama released by the White House to the world as a digital image on April 27, 2011.

Before you say, "Oh no, here we go again -- the guys with the tinfoil hats are on the loose", let's dispense with the easy part. Here is the irrefutable proof that the Obama long-form "birth certificate" is a forgery.

Shown in Figure OFS (below), side by side, are two images, each measuring 8.5 inches wide by 11 inches high (in their life size), against a black background. On the right is the digital scan of Obama's genuine short-form birth certificate, as released by the Obama presidential campaign in 2008. On the left is the long-form "birth certificate" forgery released in April 2011. I call it the "green thing".

Genuine Hawaii birth certificates are printed on borderless green basketweave security paper, as you can see on the genuine short-form certificate image. They do not have the white border that you see in the "green thing" on the left. That white border is like a picture frame for a (borderless) photograph that you hang on the wall. It masks (covers) part of the security-paper pattern at its outer edges.

So it is immediately obvious to the naked eye that the "green thing" is not a simple scan of a genuine, borderless paper birth certificate. It is a computer-generated fake -- a forgery.

Figure OFS.  Obama PDF forgery (with white border) and genuine short-form birth certificate, side by side, each measuring 8.5 by 11 inches.

The White House released two versions of this fake: The "green thing", and a much clearer (higher-resolution) black-and-white paper copy with no security-paper background, which was passed out to reporters on the morning of April 27, 2011. This paper copy was digitized (photographed) by The Associated Press, and that image is shown in Figure MP1, which follows.

The second irrefutable proof of forgery was developed by Christopher Monckton (Viscount Christopher Monckton of Brenchley, an Englishman), who has done a thorough analysis of the forgery's pitch -- that is, the spacing of the supposedly-typed monospace text -- by drawing a uniform grid on the AP-digitized image of the forgery (red lines in Figure MP1).

Figure MP1.  Monckton's "typewriter pitch" grid superimposed on the high-resolution Associated Press photo.

Enlarged, look at the "typed" line of text on Lord Monckton's grid, as shown in Figure MP2. We see that "August 4" is actually shifted slightly left of true pitch, and ", 1961 7:24 P."  is shifted about a third of a character to the right of true pitch.

Figure MP2.  The column containing the comma is where there is a right-shift of about a third of a character in pitch for the rightmost third of the forgery.

If you look back at Figure MP1, you will see that the column containing the comma is where the forger "lost" horizontal pitch.  While the leftmost two-thirds of the forgery (mostly) has one typewriter pitch, the right one-third (mostly) has a different pitch, with the column containing the comma being (about) an extra third of a character too wide.  This pitch-shift is very abrupt and cannot be accounted for by lens distortion in the AP photographer's camera, nor by any conceivable behavior by a real typist at a real typewriter.  A true, and obvious, forger's mistake.

In Figure MP1 Lord Monckton also drew baselines for the "typewritten" text.  (The baselines are for double-spaced lines on a typewriter, when the typist pulls the carriage-return lever twice after typing a line.) You can see that some lines of "typewritten" text are on the baseline, some are close, and others are off, with no consistency from line to line.  While the forger tried to maintain consistent pitch horizontally, vertical pitch was lost.

Courtesy of Lord Monckton, shown in Figure MP3 is a very-beaten-up genuine Hawaiian birth certificate for the summer of Obama's birth, on which Monckton has superimposed a pitch-grid (blue lines) showing that a genuine typewritten Hawaiian birth certificate of that era maintains horizontal and vertical pitch on a form designed to accommodate double-spaced typewritten lines (as one would expect.) (The items "Waihee", "Negro", "Porter Service" and "6-13-61" are later modifications made with a different typewriter.)

Figure MP3.  A genuine Hawaiian birth certificate from 1961 which maintains perfect horizontal and vertical typewriter pitch.

To summarize:

If Obama's long-form "birth certificate" were genuine, then the White House would have released a simple, borderless digital image resulting from the scan of a genuine paper document, in a widely-used graphical format. (The 2008 certificate image was released as a JPEG.)

But because the "birth certificate" is a forgery, what we wound up with is a mess. Paper black-and-white copies of the forgery, with the basketweave security pattern digitally "turned off" before printing, were passed out to the White House press corps. Then a much-poorer-quality color image, inexplicably masked with a white border, was deliberately digitally damaged by the forger to confuse Internet sleuths before it was released to the public in PDF format (generally used for documents, not stand-alone pictures) as the "green thing".

If you would like more detailed evidence of forgery than is contained in this brief summary, I urge you to download and read my complete research report, Barry Soetoro's Birth Secret, available at:

            http://contrariansview.org/Site/About_Me_files/BSBS/BSBS.pdf 

This is a "public domain" document (uncopyrighted, except for "fair use" of certain graphics), so feel free to pass it around among your friends.

For the two years that I have been analyzing and writing about Obama's long-form "birth certificate", I have not done any of this research to score political points. (I think Obama is a terrible president, but that is irrelevant to my research efforts.) I have only been trying for my own satisfaction to solve the maddening, real-life mystery of Obama's origins and of what's being hidden that's on his real birth certificate.

In "Secrets Revealed" (American Thinker, June 15, 2012) I compared the short-form birth certificate, the forgery, and the "Verification of Birth" sent by the Hawaii Department of Health to Arizona secretary of state Ken Bennett -- line by line -- and concluded that all of the information on the short-form birth certificate and on the long-form forgery that was released to the public is true, but the genuine long-form image cannot be shown because the certificate in Hawaii's possession "looks different" or contains more information than what was released to the public.

At this point we progress from known fact -- the "birth certificate" is fake -- to theory: If all the information shown is true, why was the fake, instead of the genuine birth certificate, released?

For me, there is only one likely possibility: Adoption.  Specifically, Barry was legally adopted by Obama's mother's second husband, Lolo Soetoro, in a way that caused the Hawaii birth record to be visually altered.

Is there any evidence that Lolo Soetoro legally adopted Obama after he and Ann Dunham (Obama) were married in Hawaii on March 24, 1965?

Yes, there is, though it is sketchy.  (Adopted children don't usually go around telling people they were adopted, nor do parents typically advertise that their children are adopted, though it may be obvious where the child's race differs from the parents'.)

There is a Facebook posting made in 2011 by Maya Soetoro-Ng, Obama's half-sister, in response to a critic where she wrote in part, "You mentioned the adoption laws of Indonesia that you saw as related to my brother's legitimacy (you were suggesting that because my father, his stepfather, had adopted him, that my brother was no longer American) and I said that I had no idea about Indonesian adoption law and what you were saying didn't make any sense to me but that the law that mattered was the law of this country [that is, U.S. law] and the fact that he was born in the United States." (Italics are mine.) It would seem that Maya thinks that Barry was adopted, believing it to be an Indonesian adoption.

Figure SFA.  1968 Indonesian school registration for Barry Soetoro.  (Associated Press photo by Tatan Syuflana.)

Also relevant is young Barry's registration for the school term beginning in 1968 at Santo Fransiskus Asisi (St. Francis of Assisi Catholic) school in Indonesia, as shown in Figure SFA.

The translations for some of the line items are:

1.  Name of the student - Barry Soetoro

2.  Place and date of birth - Honolulu 4-8-61 [August 4, 1961, date in European format]

3.  Nation:       a, citizenship - Indonesia

                        b, foreign descent - (left blank)

                        c, race - (left blank)

4.  Religion - Islam

5.  Student's address - Ment[eng] Dalam R007/R1003

7a.  School term beginning date - 1-1-1968

7b.  Placed in class - 2

8a.  Parents' names:    Father - L.  Soetoro M.  A.

                                    Mother - (left blank)

Indonesian citizenship (which comes through the father under Indonesian law) would be conferred to Barry by legal adoption.

Chapter 2 of ghostwriter Bill Ayers' eloquent composite biography of Obama, Dreams From My Father, covers Obama's time spent in Indonesia. 

On Page 38 we read,

"So it was to Lolo that I turned for guidance and instructions.  He didn't talk much, but he was easy to be with.  With his family and friends he introduced me as his son, but he never pressed things beyond matter-of-fact advice or pretended that our relationship was more than it was.  I appreciated this distance; it implied a manly trust." (Italics are mine.)

And on Page 41 we find,

"My mother watched us from inside the house... She really was grateful for Lolo's solicitude toward me.  He wouldn't have treated his own son very differently.  She knew that she was lucky for Lolo's basic kindness." (Again, italics are mine.)

Dreams From My Father is revealing not just in what it says, but in what it omits.  Nowhere in Chapter 2 is there a reference to Lolo Soetoro as "father", "stepfather", "adopted father" or any reference at all to his formal/legal relationship to young Barry.  He appears as just "Lolo", with an apparent unwillingness on Barry's part to shed the Kenyan figment of a father in favor of a man who clearly was reaching out to be a real father to him.

Finally, we have Stanley Ann Soetoro's 1968 application to extend her 1965 passport (now destroyed) for an additional two years, as shown in Figure PPA.

On the second page of the application, Ann moved to exclude her son Barack Hussein Obama (Soebarkah) from her passport, but the item has been crossed out -- perhaps on the advice of the consulate in Jakarta, as this would have left seven-year-old Barry passportless -- so it didn't happen.

The appendage "(Soebarkah)" has never been satisfactorily explained by anyone, and I certainly don't know what "Soebarkah" means, but it does seem to indicate a name change or change in citizenship status for the boy.

Figure PPA.  Ann Soetoro's 1968 application to extend her 1965 passport.

If, as I think is likely, Barry was legally adopted by Lolo Soetoro, was the adoption in Indonesia or Hawaii?  Most observers (like half-sister Maya) have assumed that it would have been in Indonesia, but if we look at the timelines and circumstances of the Soetoro family's piecemeal return/emigration to Indonesia, we see that a timely Indonesian adoption would be very unlikely, while there was ample time for the parents to put in place a Hawaiian adoption before settling in Indonesia.

Stanley Ann (Dunham) Obama and Lolo Soetoro were married in Molokai on March 24, 1965, while they were both still graduate students at the University of Hawaii.  Lolo was in the U.S. on a student visa scheduled to expire in June 1965.  But because Indonesia was in turmoil following a failed military coup in September 1965 which resulted in the purging and killing of communists in 1965-66, Lolo stayed in Hawaii for as long as he could, until the U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service forced his return to Indonesia in July 1966.  On his return to Indonesia Lolo worked for the government, mapping western New Guinea.

Finally, in 1967 it was safe for Americans to go to Indonesia, so Ann Soetoro emigrated there in October 1967, with Barry in tow, to join her husband Lolo, where they lived in a district of south Jakarta.  Barry was enrolled as an Indonesian citizen for school beginning in 1968, as we have seen; Indonesian citizenship was a requirement for students attending Indonesian state-supported schools.

Under Indonesian law of the time, if Lolo adopted Barry before he turned age 5 (that is, before August 4, 1966), Barry would automatically become an Indonesian citizen, subject to the approval of the Pengadilan Negeri (district court) for the district of the father's residence.  A Hawaiian adoption of a U.S.-citizen child by a foreign-nationality father would pose no U.S. legal problems, and it would be recognized in Indonesia under international treaty.  (Under U.S. law, Barry would hold triple citizenship -- U.S., Indonesian, and Kenyan.) And since the parents knew they would eventually be living in Indonesia, it would make sense for Lolo to adopt Barry in Hawaii, and take advantage of the automatic Indonesian citizenship for the child, as part of the preparations for emigration and Barry's schooling there.

If Lolo had adopted Barry in Indonesia, he would then be adopting a six-year-old foreign-born child under Indonesian law, in less than four months' time, so Barry could go to school at the beginning of January 1968.  Unlikely.

In 1965 and 1966 the only kind of Hawaiian adoption available for young children was a sealed adoption, where the pre-adoption birth certificate of the adopted child is sealed under court order, and a new birth certificate is issued showing the adopting parent(s) as the birth parent(s). When a Hawaiian birth certificate is thus amended, a document file containing the sealed record of the original document and supporting documentation that authorized a change to the information contained in the original document is created. The amended certificate is "distinctly marked" alerting to the fact it was altered. (Today, most adoptions can be "unsealed" and the pre-adoptive birth information restored to the vital records, but this does not "undo" an adoption -- nor a change of surname, if there was one.)

Whatever that "distinctly marked" alteration to Obama's birth certificate is, it must be obvious enough that, if shown to the public, people would see that Barry had been adopted. 

Do we have any concrete evidence that Lolo adopted Barry in Hawaii?

Yes, we do.

First is the forgery itself -- it was released in lieu of a genuine long-form birth certificate so the public would not know that Lolo Soetoro had adopted Obama (as would be evidenced by the amending of his hospital-generated birth information).

Second, we have a myriad collection of official statements by various Hawaii officials.

In the English language there are (at least) two different meanings of the word "original" when referring to documents.  It can mean "master", rather than a copy or facsimile; or it can mean "first version," rather than revised or subsequent versions.

The section of Hawaiian state law (578-14) which covers birth certificates being issued as part of the adoption process refers to the pre-adoption birth certificate as "original" and the post-adoption birth certificate as "new."  So when bureaucrats who are following the law refer to an "original" birth certificate, they most certainly mean the master, but they could also be using the legal meaning, the certificate generated at time of birth, before it was amended by adoption of the child.

In this light let's take another look at some of those carefully-worded statements by Hawaii state officials:

Former Hawaii Department of Health Director Dr. Chiyome Fukino on October 31, 2008:

"I as Director of Health for the State of Hawai'i, along with the Registrar of Vital Statistics who has statutory authority to oversee and maintain these type of vital records, have personally seen and verified that the Hawai'i State Department of Health has Sen.  Obama's original birth certificate on record in accordance with state policies and procedures."

Again, on July 27, 2009: Fukino indicated she had "seen the original vital records maintained on file by the Hawai'i State Department of Health verifying Barack Hussein Obama was born in Hawai'i and is a natural-born American."  (One can disagree on legal grounds with the additional qualifier of natural-born, but her statement does identify Obama as native-born.)

On April 11, 2011, following a telephone interview with Dr. Fukino, NBC News reporter Michael Isikoff wrote, "the original so-called 'long form' birth certificate -- described by Hawaiian officials as a 'record of live birth' -- absolutely exists, located in a bound volume in a file cabinet on the first floor of the state Department of Health.  Fukino said she has personally inspected it -- twice.  The first time was in late October 2008 -- taking with her the state official in charge of vital records.  She found the original birth record, properly numbered, half typed and half handwritten, and signed by the doctor who delivered Obama, located in the files.  She then put out a public statement asserting to the document's validity.  She later put out another public statement in July 2009 - after reviewing the original birth record a second time."

On April 22, 2011, President Obama wrote to then-Director of the Hawaii Department of Health Loretta J. Fuddy, "I am writing to request two certified copies of my original certificate of live birth."

On April 25, 2011, Fuddy wrote to the president, "Enclosed, please find two copies of your original Certificate of Live Birth.  I have witnessed the copying of the certificate and attest to the authenticity of these copies."

Finally, we have State Registrar Alvin T. Onaka's (rubber-stamped) Verification of Birth letter to Ken Bennett of May 22, 2012 in which Onaka writes, "Additionally, I verify that the information in the copy of the Certificate of Live Birth for Mr. Obama that you attached with your request [that is, a printout of the "green thing"] matches the original record in our files."

(Italicized emphasis of the word "original" in all of these statements is mine.)

So you see, these folks have been telling the truth all along.  Moreover, they are adhering to state law by not indicating that an adoption had taken place, because they are not authorized to release that information.

Was there anybody else telling the truth?  Oh, yes -- President Obama on the morning of April 27, 2011, before the release of the "green thing: "As many of you have been briefed, we provided additional information today about the site of my birth.  Now, this issue has been going on for two, two and a half years now.  I think it started during the campaign.  And I have to say that over the last two and a half years I have watched with bemusement, I've been puzzled at the degree to which this thing just kept on going.  We've had every official in Hawaii, Democrat and Republican, every news outlet that has investigated this, confirm that, yes, in fact, I was born in Hawaii, August 4, 1961, in Kapiolani Hospital.  We've posted the certification [short-form birth certificate] that is given by the state of Hawaii on the Internet for everybody to see.  People have provided affidavits that they, in fact, have seen this birth certificate.  And yet this thing just keeps on going." (The rest of his comments were political talking points.)

"We provided additional information today about the site of my birth" -- yes, he did.  The information is truthful -- though incomplete -- but it was revealed via a forged document.

Just when Barry reverted from using the surname Soetoro back to the surname Obama is not clear.  It was sometime after his return to Hawaii in the summer or fall of 1971, alone as a ten-year-old boy with his own U.S. passport.  And we know that he graduated from Punahou School in 1979 as "Barry Obama."

Does Barack Obama still legally carry the surname Soetoro? Perhaps somebody should ask him that question.

We can now say beyond all doubt that Barack Obama (Soetoro) was born in Honolulu on August 4, 1961, and is a native-born U.S. citizen.  All "official" evidence prior to the release of the long-form "birth certificate" forgery told us this -- his short-form birth certificate, statements by Hawaii officials, the contemporaneous birth announcements in the Hawaii newspapers, his (birth) father's correspondence and dealings with the Immigration and Naturalization service, Obama/Soetoro's registration form for Fransiskus Asisi school.  Now we have the "birth certificate" forgery itself to seal the deal, because by knowing what was being hidden with the release of the forgery -- his legal adoption -- we know what was not being hidden -- his place and date of birth.

About the author: Nick Chase is a retired but still very active technical writer, technical editor, computer programmer and stock market newsletter writer.  During his career he has produced documentation on computers, typewriters, typesetters, headline-makers and other pieces of equipment most people never heard of, and he has programmed typesetting equipment.  You can read more of his work on the American Thinker website and at contrariansview.org.

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The theory that Barry was adopted in Hawaii is not a new idea, nor is it original with me. In Suborned in the USA (National Review Online, July 30, 2009) NRO editor Andrew C. McCarthy wrote:

"Obama and the media worked in tireless harmony to refute any indication that he had ever been a Muslim. It's now apparent, however, not only that he was raised as a Muslim while living for four years in the world's most populous Islamic country, but that he very likely became a naturalized citizen of Indonesia.
"Shortly after divorcing Barack Obama Sr., Obama's mother, Stanley Ann Dunham, married an Indonesian Muslim, Lolo Soetoro Mangunharjo, whom she met - just as she had met Barack Sr. - when both were students at the University of Hawaii. At some point, Soetoro almost certainly adopted the youngster, who became known as "Barry Soetoro." Obama's lengthy, deeply introspective autobiographies do not address whether he was adopted by the stepfather whose surname he shared for many years, but in all likelihood that did happen in Hawaii, before the family moved to Jakarta.
"Under Indonesian law, adoption before the age of six [Correct age is five - Nick] by an Indonesian male qualified a child for citizenship. According to Dreams from My Father, Obama was four when he met Lolo Soetoro; his mother married Soetoro shortly thereafter; and Obama was already registered for school when he and his mother relocated to Jakarta, where Soetoro was an oil-company executive and liaison to the Suharto government.
"That was in 1966 [Correct year is 1967 - Nick], when Obama was five [Six - Nick]. Obama attended Indonesian elementary schools, which, in Suharto's police state, were generally reserved for citizens (and students were required to carry identity cards that matched student registration information). The records of the Catholic school Obama/Soetoro attended for three years identify him as a citizen of Indonesia. Thus Obama probably obtained Indonesian citizenship through his adoption by Soetoro in Hawaii. That inference is bolstered by the 1980 divorce submission of Ann Dunham and Lolo Soetoro, filed in Hawaii state court. It said "the parties" (Ann and Lolo) had a child (name not given) who was no longer a minor (Obama was 19 at the time). If Soetoro had not adopted Obama, there would have been no basis for the couple to refer to Obama as their child - he'd have been only Ann Dunham's child."

When McCarthy wrote this, Obama was not under intense political pressure to release his (genuine) long-form birth certificate, and at that time it probably did not occur to anybody that he would be unable to do so without also revealing that Lolo Soetoro had adopted him in Hawaii.

Read more: http://www.americanthinker.com/2014/01/obamas_other_big_lie.html#ixzz2pNI5jQKa

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