Don't Know, Don't Care?

The headline immediately caught my attention.

BRANDON MAN DIES IN CAR ACCIDENT

I quickly clicked on the link.

We had, after all, lived in Brandon for four years.

Was it someone I knew?

Please don't be Mr. X, or J..what if it's S? My mind went through some of the fathers I'd met during my stint as the Youth Services Supervisor for the Brandon Library.

I held my breath as the page loaded then exhaled a sigh of relief when I didn't recognize the name of the deceased.

My relief was short-lived.

It's okay because you didn't know him? I heard the Lord ask me.

Um, no, I guess not.

Someone still died.

And there are many out there like me who DID know him.

In an instant I knew the entire message He was pouring into my heart.

Yes, my thoughts were common. It's natural.

It's also natural to care only about those we know and love.

But that's not a compassionate heart.

It's still about YOU. It's about who YOU know and how YOU feel.

True compassion is caring just as much for the stranger in the store, or the neighbor's aunt, or even the guy on the street.

God is no respector of persons and neither should we be.

I should've mourned as deeply for the 21-year-old whose life was cut short as I would've my own son.

I've buried a child; I know how unlikely that is.

And yet, at that moment, I knew how wrong I was that I only felt relief.

Today was a busy day. I must've talked to at least 60 people on the streets today. Gave some food out, gave some rides, even bought a tent.

And in true human nature, there were some I doted on, some I tolerated, and some I avoided as much as possible.

I didn't even realize my error until I clicked on the article.

I was wrong.

It may be NORMAL but normal isn't necessarily right.

In fact, in these end times we are in, normal is almost always WRONG.

When I stand in front of that judgement seat I don't want to be NORMAL.

I don't even want to be RIGHT.

I want the Lord to feel like He's looking into a mirror.

I hear things all the time like You're an angel or You are doing great things.

That's nice, but there are only 7 words that I truly want to hear:

WELL DONE, MY GOOD AND FAITHFUL SERVANT!

Eight Days Later...

Oh boy...I can't believe it's been eight days since I've sat down to write.

Or read a book.

Or even sleep more than an hour at a time.

Yet the Spirit in me is as alive and joyful as ever...so I march on!

But I wanted to give a little update, to tell you where I am on this journey, and what is on the horizon.

First, little Kylie went back to her parents a few days ago. They were still with friends as we are trying to get them into their own apartment. Last night, they told Katie she had to leave but the baby and the dad could stay.

The problem, in a nutshell, is that Katie has the mind and attitude of a teenager. Most of you can understand that without any further clarification.

I wasn't sure what the right advice was. For him to send her somewhere for a few days? For him to go with her? Things that seem cut and dry aren't so simple when a child is involved.

In the end she went out of town for a few days and left him with the baby. I'm going to get her tomorrow and keep her until they move into their apartment.

He would've preferred that I get her today but it has been a long week.

We got two of our grandkids (aged 5 and 8) right after Kylie went home last week and have since gone to the movie, bowling, an arcade, the beach, a hotel and its pool, the park, the pier, a putt-putt golf course, and another arcade with bumper cars. As well as entertaining four dogs, several church kids, and terrorizing more than our share of restaurant waiters. The oldest went to bed after midnight, the youngest woke up at 5.

We had a blast, capping off our final outing with friends joining in on top-of-our-lungs renditions of Kidz Bop songs.

But I am tired.

And I couldn't wait for my bed tonight and hopefully eight hours of sleep.

The kids had been dropped off for exactly seven minutes when I got the call to pick up Kylie.

I hope I wasn't wrong by telling him I'd get her tomorrow before church.

That's another thing.

We have our monthly cookout tomorrow before the evening service. Thank heavens for crockpots! I got all of the groceries this afternoon and will get things going before I pick up for the morning service tomorrow.

I went to the store earlier this week and loaded up on diapers, clothes, baby bath, formula, etc. so all I needed from now on was Kylie and her car seat and we were good to go. The only thing I still need is one of those sling carriers and I'll try to leave early enough tomorrow morning to find one.

I loved those things when my third child was born.

I had an 11-month old and a 21-month old at the time so that carrier became my extra set of hands!

Since Kylie cries without human contact, it is going to be imperative that I "wear" her if I'm going to get anything else done.

And ministry doesn't stop because there are kids around.

I found THAT out this week!

My phone still rang 24/7.

Susan needs her glasses picked up from Gulfport. And $108.00. I called organizations and the "free" clinic she ordered them from. No-one can help.

An unexpected expense in having to replace our deep freezer for the fish we store for our benefits wiped out our ministry account.

So I told her I'd pay for half if she came up with the other half.

She'll have to panhandle for it, but if you are panhandling anyway...use it for your needs...

Pitbull, another regular panhandler, flew off the handle this week because no-one will get him a tent.

I've already seen 3 organizations, including me, give him tents that have been burned, slashed, or abandoned.

I know he makes between $100-$150 a day on the off-ramp of I-10 because he's had me go buy him movies and batteries before.

So I suggested he panhandle for tent money and I'd go get it.

Of course, he didn't want that.

But there is a difference between becoming homeless by circumstance and choosing to remain homeless because you want to spend your money on drugs.

And the spice out here is horrible. (Hence slashed and burnt tents.)

And then there's the new supportive housing program.

One girl disappeared off the map after receiving pain meds (her drug of choice) by an ER doctor and another backed out at the (misguided) advice of a local shelter.

I moved on to others in the list only to have both women call yesterday ready for assistance.

It isn't open-ended; I have to choose just one.

I am not sure what I'll do.

On the good news front, we have been approved for a building loan and will start on a parsonage and large open-air pavilion with a full-kitchen soon.

Some great news from my hometown church that a group has adopted our ministry!

We are also still in talks for a building in town to open a day shelter/soup kitchen/counseling center/church services part-time for homeless and poverty-level individuals.

Conversations with a local funeral home have begun the ball rolling for us to maintain a parcel of land for pauper burials maintained by the church.

And we are considering plans for an acre on the back of  the church property...Community walking trail? Community garden? Cabins for retreats and/or mission groups to come in and help with the homeless?

I want to do it all! But we are exploring options...and state codes...

All of this came in the midst of the arcade, beach, bowling alley...

So it has been an exciting and fulfilling week!

And I'm excited for the future. I'm not sure exactly what all will come to fruition and what may lead to disappointment but it is a journey that I'm ready and willing to take.

Please keep us in prayers...we have a big fish fry this weekend where we will film the final segment for The Catfish Charlie tv show pilot, several homeless dr/state bldg appointments this week, "couple" time that will have to be canceled because of Kylie (all you new parents are playing that tiny violin for me right now, aren't you?!!), decisions on the housing applicants, meeting with city planners, and grant seeking..

Plus I've got to build a church/ministry website this week...

And go back and preach at the home where I proclaimed that my dogs spoke to me. (See...The Mic Dropped..and went thud!)

Oh, and Joe!!

We gotta get some help for Joe, who was right in front of me at the exact time the Lord had planned because I voiced answers to the questions he'd asked the Lord just moments before. (I think he thought I was some kind of angel...but I was just a willing Christian..willing to do, go, and be what the Lord wanted me to.)

I hope everyone has a beautiful week.

And anyone interested in offering feedback on an interactive ministry website, please let me know. I'm excited about our future and the opportunity to help many more people!

All That..and a Bag of Chips, er Diapers????

Katie, the young homeless girl who abandoned her baby last week, returned yesterday.

While we were out shopping for tomorrow's fish fry we ran into them.

They promptly handed us the baby and said "We're going to let you take her."

I wanted to say, "NOT NOW! I've had less than eight hours sleep since Tuesday and I'm exhausted! I have too much to do...let's do this later."

But I couldn't.

I've told them from the beginning to call me anytime so I couldn't refuse now.

I was a little taken aback when they said they'd get her back "probably Sunday."

But I was already ready, having had new crib sheets and blankets ready since her birth in February.

So we came home and I promptly washed everything she had and gave her a bath.

It's been a long day. She's a little sick and has been so fussy. At one point we went over to the church while I rocked her in the church nursery and Dale played the guitar. She slept for thirty whole minutes.

She loves the dogs and they are equally enamored with her. Except for Annie. She's older and is not impressed with the various sounds and smells that emanate from a newborn!

Two of my grandkids are coming Monday for the week so I'm trying to prepare myself now for life without sleep. At least they don't have to be held 24/7. Quite the opposite, they never sit still!

Oh, it'll be fun...don't think I'm complaining!

I remember the months following a back surgery a few years ago in which I laid in a bed staring at the walls or the television, existing only. There was no life and I was miserable.

A busy day without sleep beats lying in bed doing nothing BUT sleeping every time!

But now she's gone to sleep so I must go run and try to grab a few minutes of shut eye before she wakes up.

My firstborn Callie had her days and nights mixed up and we had an old t.v. with rabbit ears. So as she was just getting good and awake, the National Anthem was playing as the t.v turned to snow only. Thankfully we now have cable, dvr, and tablets so if I have to spend the night upright, there will be something to watch or a game to play. Though I probably won't do more than rock and sing!

Goodnight, all....

14 Hour Day That I'd Gladly Do For 24!

This was one of those days.

The kind that started at 7 A.M. and is just now coming to an end at 9 P.M.

And I loved every minute of it.

It was one of those crazy, hard, fun, challenging, devastating, rewarding days that lets me know that I am right where God wants me to be.

I started with a trip to WalMart to buy some things for the Coffee Room at the church. I answered a barrage of calls from the moment my car cranked.

My neighbor referred a young woman to me. She was in a shelter looking for rehab then supportive housing. I made some calls to get her help. I will go to Montgomery to pick her up when she gets into a new program.

Ironically, the place I'm trying to send HER to was calling me for a copy of a group picture we took while we did a fish fry benefit for them last week-end.

I was in my gym clothes hoping to grab a quick workout before I picked up my first client to take to check in with her parole officer. I apparently spent too long shopping because I didn't have time. BUT I walked all over WalMart so that has to count, right?

I need to figure out that new FitBit I ordered. I might can do all my workouts at WalMart. Hmmm...

After the P.O. I had to bring her to the ER. She'd stepped on a nail and had an infected foot.

I dropped off her prescriptions and brought her home while I went to a meeting with the local city's economic development department.

Great meeting and once again reminded of my vow not to give up until we have not only dealt with the homeless problem but the PROBLEMS that led to homelessness.

Check on Mom who had minor eye surgery...all good there.

Talked to two of my kids. Wish I'd have been walking as closely with the Lord while they were still under my roof but I can't change that now. I'm glad they feel they can call me for spiritual advice now.

Picked up medicine, brought it back.

Brought mail to various people on streets who use our address.

Gave $5 to a local homeless guy we know who's deaf. Don't usually give money but his sign language explaining he was broke tickled me. Watched him go buy food immediately.

Fielded a few business phone calls. Was reminded of how God provided an income out of thin air allowing us to minister full-time without taking a salary from the church or ministry.

Remember my friend Jenni telling me in the beginning (when my faith was being tested): Where He leads, He feeds and Where He guides, He provides.

My response?

Yes, but...

Some faith!!

Thankfully, it has grown and I stand in awe of all He did to make this ministry happen.

Another call.

Katie ran off with an old boyfriend leaving her 5 month-old behind.

I wanted to go grab the baby and never let her go.

But the dad has her and until HE runs off too, I can't do a thing. (The crib has been assembled in my home for two months waiting on the day it's needed.)

On the way to pick up my husband to take him to get his car from the shop (same shop mine was in YESTERDAY!) I got a call from my dog groomer. She had a client whose grown son needed to go into treatment for alcoholism. None of them knew where to turn so she called me.

I was happy to help. I've just recently started using this groomer so it was great that she even knew to call me.

We had to make a couple of visits after we picked up his truck and by then I was pretty sure the gym wouldn't happen.

Yet I was just so happy today that the extra spring in my step felt like a constant workout!

(Full disclosure: I did give in to the very tempting new MnM Coffee Nut flavor candy. Actually, maybe THAT'S why I had an extra spring in my step!!)

We finally grabbed dinner in town and ran into an old and a new (but familiar) face.

One of the sisters from the giant con I'd written about a few months back was back in the area. This was the girl who lied and manipulated several people, causing a huge rift in a local church.

She actually stopped in her tracks when she saw me and started to turn around. She then acted like she didn't recognize me and walked by.

I considered calling her out but it was the spirit operating in her that needed to be addressed and it wasn't the time. Or maybe it was the time and I was disobedient. In any event, I just walked by like I didn't recognize her either. (But I didn't leave until I told the manager to watch out for her.)

I then talked to a young man who'd gotten a hothead in a local program and threatened a staff member. He was sitting on the side of the road on his suitcase, not sure where to go.

I saw a little boy, repentant and sheepish, and my heart went out. I called the program (one we work with) and "went to bat" for him. When I left they were considering letting him come back.

We made it home by nine and I put the groceries up I'd bought 12 hours earlier. (No cold stuff!)

I'm sharing my day because it's one to be shared!

And now I'm off to bed because I have to leave at 6 A.M. to see the dentist about a tooth that broke yesterday. Fortunately it doesn't hurt so for that I'm thankful!

I absolutely love my life!

I'm ready to get up tomorrow and do it all over again!!!

Covered in Chocolate...and Prayer

There are two things you can never give too much of.

The first is chocolate.

Despite its propensity to melt in the sweltering Southern heat, I believe that no gift is complete with some chocolate treats thrown in.

The other is prayer.

You may have a friend or loved one across the country and feel like you can't do enough for them in times of struggle.

But you can pray.

Prayers can permeate the realm of darkness in ways you cannot imagine.

Imagine one of those kid toy guns with the lasers and sound effects that rat-a-tat at lightning speed as they are shot.

Now imagine a room full of pitch black.

That darkness represents a divorce, death of loved one, depression, addiction, illness, etc. Whatever your loved one is facing.

When you fire off that gun, several things happen.

First, the lights illuminate the darkness.

Have you watched a scary movie in the dark? You jump, you scream, you hide your eyes.

But turn that same movie on in the light of the day and it seems a little silly.

Then the "bullets" poke holes through barriers of darkness, releasing its hold.

What happens when someone breaks through the Red Rover, Red Rover chain? That line gets weaker as you get to pull a person away from the side you've just broken through.

Those holes then allow the light of the Lord to seep in and settle on the one you've been praying for.

Just because you can't always see the results of your prayer doesn't mean you aren't making a difference.

Pray without ceasing.

When you feel like you just can't help someone you love, PRAY.

It's worth more than Willy Wonka's entire chocolate factory.

Misplaced Passion?

My friend and I were talking about witnessing to those we love.

It's hard.

Even Jesus was not received in his hometown so we are in good company when our friends and relatives scoff.

"Oh there you go with your holy-roller sh#@ again!" was one of the first things I heard from a dear loved one shortly after salvation.

If the devil was trying to shut me up, he succeeded.

For fifteen years I've carefully broached any spiritual subject matter with her.

She knew me at my worst so it seemed hypocritical for me to extol the virtues of being Christ-like.

Time gave me credibility, but I was still wary of persecution so I said very little.

I can preach to a roomful of strangers easier than share godly wisdom with a loved one.

Yet the thought of my loved ones not being with me in Heaven is heartbreaking.

So why don't I share more?

Why don't I end every conversation witnessing?

Why am I more worried about where my kids are going this week-end than where they are going after death?

I'm so passionate about those on the streets. Where is that passion for my lost friends and family?

After our discussion I started to examine my heart.

Is it pride? Am I embarrassed? Am I scared? Do I just not care?

My grandmother was one of the most godly women I knew. She loved the Lord first and us second and she made sure we knew it. She wasn't worried that we'd be upset with her; she worried more about letting the Lord down.

There's no doubt in my mind that her unwavering faith along with prayers for those she loved covered me through years of sin until I finally submitted my life to the Lord.

I needed to be more like that. I needed that passion to lead EVERYONE to the Lord.

Yet after the conversation ended I simply moved on, not thinking too much about it again.

Until today.

This week brought about some sad television news.

DiNozzo leaving NCIS. (Heartbreaking.)

Jodie Sweetin voted off DWTS. (One less show to watch.)

Nashville canceled. (Shocked. Upset. Fired Up.)

I found myself posting on various sites, including TV GUIDE MAGAZINE, begging for a Save Our Show campaign.

I was PASSIONATE.

About what?

A t.v. show.

Which, if you've followed this blog from the beginning, you'll know that I didn't watch ANY t.v. for a year and a half after we moved here so that I didn't get my priorities, or my passions, mixed up.

Like I just did.

I hung my head.

Father, forgive me.

May I feel the passion for saving lost souls as strongly as I felt about these shows.

Help me get my priorities straight and speak to those I love with the same boldness I have elsewhere.

Guide me as I start my own Save Our SOULS campaign and do exceedingly more than any social media could ever do....  

High Praise

Stan came to church for the first time last Sunday.

When I first met him almost two years ago, he was riding his bike on the streets and though he was hanging out with the homeless, he quickly told me he was NOT homeless himself.

This is actually a common sight on the streets. People, mostly men, who have a home with little more, spend their days hanging out on the streets telling everyone what they are doing wrong and how much better off they are than the homeless.

They consider themselves a true help to those less fortunate.

And they do try.

Stan has called me for other people no less than twenty times in the past year. I do what I can to help.

But last week he finally asked for help for himself.

I wasn't surprised; I knew there were addiction issues. I was pleased he finally admitted he had a problem. That's the first step.

But in these last two years, I could never get him to church. Or to accept a meal or clothes or anything else. He only wanted a hug. The material goods he wanted me to give to someone else.

So last week when I pulled up to the store to pick up some guys for church, he was there. He wished me a happy Mother's Day and started to ride off when he reminded me that he still needed some help with his addiction. I told him to come on to church with us; the Word could do more than I ever could.

While he wavered, I pulled a page from the Mother's Handbook. I told him it would be a great Mother's Day gift. It worked and he came.

I was excited for him and prayed that he would receive during the service.

He did.

I saw him Monday morning.

He was still talking about the service. (His first church service EVER.)

"That was so great. I really got a lot. Your husband said a lot of things that I understood."

I was glad; I had prayed specifically for the Lord to speak to him.

He continued with what has probably been the HIGHEST praise I've ever gotten.

"It was SO GOOD that I didn't want a beer for, like, 3 hours after I left!!"

Small steps...    :)

RECEIPTS....think twice before throwing them away!

From the files of I NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT THAT:

Some of you diligently file your receipts away for accounting or safekeeping.

Others may save them and turn them in to local schools or organizations.

But most of us just wad them up and throw them away.

At home, in the store parking lot, maybe even in the shopping buggy.

And you never thought twice about the crimes that could be committed with them.

Until now.

Because I'm going to let you in on a little scam that is actually a quite common practice on the streets.

Thieves will go through the trash cans looking for receipts (especially Wal-Mart ones).

Then they will go in the store and shoplift the items on a receipt.

They then return to the store with the stolen item and YOUR receipt to exchange for cash.

So be careful with your receipts. Never throw them away in the store's garbage cans and, if possible, tear up receipts before tossing them out.

Retail theft makes everyone's prices rise!

The Mic Dropped...and went thud!

Sometimes you are just going to mess up.

Even when you are doing the right thing.

And you may want to run to a land far, far away....

That happened to me once.

As a young child I was gifted with a beautiful singing voice.

I scored the leads in church musicals ("I am Mrs. Noah and you know what I do? In the ark with animals from emus to gnus...") and community theatre productions.

I sang solos in church...

In my shower...

In the backseat of the big blue bomb aka Mom's Bonneville.

But as I hit those teenage years I began to think that my voice was something I was good at, something I created all on my own.

The church solos became about my PERFORMANCE, not the message God had intended.

And one Sunday morning, I just bombed.

(For my younger readers, this was the 80's and bombed was definitely the antonym of da bomb. Definitely not on fleek. I was on flunk!)

Well, that was it.

That Sunday was the last time I sang publicly for almost 20 years.

The devil won.

To be honest, he'd had some help from me when I let the worm of self-importance in.

But I'm older now..and wiser..so I'd never be that stupid again, right?

Wrong.

I've let the devil shut me up so many times.

A rejection letter on my writing. (Even a 2nd place award in a writing contest has felt like a loss.)

Another botched solo. (Though this time it was technically just a botched note but it still stifled my solos for nine months.)

And then there was last Thursday night.

My husband was preaching to a group of men in a transitional home but I felt led to share a little something first. I'd been on the streets all week ministering and verse after verse flowed freely. I knew I was walking in the Spirit and that my words would be ordained.

I started out feeling fairly comfortable. I do prefer to preach to one or two people at a time over a large group, but I was excited about the message.

I began by telling them how the Lord uses situations with my dogs to paint a picture of a spiritual lesson for me quite often. Then I proceeded to share how my new wireless containment system has a radius and once the dog reaches a danger zone it will beep. If he ignores the beep at first, it will get louder and louder until it zaps him.

I related God to the machine, the center of the radius. And how the safest place for us is right next to Him.

But He allows us to roam (free will) and will give us a warning beep when we've gone too far.

The basic message was to adhere to the warning and not get zapped by the devil by stepping so far away from God.

It was clear in my head and I thought it was a very applicable lesson.

But I was met with uncomfortable silence.

Feeling embarrassed, I quickly turned it over to my husband and took my seat.

"I'm NEVER preaching to a group again. Ever. Anywhere. That was horrible!" I told him when we left. "I'll stick to ministering on the streets, not to a group."

Even as the words come out of my mouth, I knew it wasn't true.

I was reminded of that solo and how I'd vowed never to let the devil shut me up again.

But I was embarrassed. And confused.

Didn't it make sense?

I decided I need more preparation next time.

My husband had another thought entirely.

"Maybe you should choose your wording more carefully," he said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You started your story with, 'The Lord talks to me through my dogs.'"

Oh.

Mic drop.

Thud.

I'm pretty sure they didn't hear a word I said after that.

In fact, we went back today to host a fish fry for their Open House.

One of the first greetings I got was, "Did your dogs talk to you this morning?"

I hope someone straightened that out...

Are YOU responsible for the decline of Christianity in our nation?

You don't have to look far to find a news story lambasting Christians.

If you take a stand against sin, you're intolerant or a "hater"...

Well, the last part is actually biblical: he who loves the Lord hates the world.

But Christians aren't hate-filled people spewing lies and trying to control the world by condemning everyone.

Christians, true Christians, hate sin, love people, and want all to come to the knowledge and glory of Jesus Christ.

Growing up, there was a mutual respect between Christians and non-Christians. Kind of a you do your thing, I'll do mine.

And souls were steadily won through churches, schools, street revivals, and even television.

But then it wasn't right to have prayers in schools. It infringed on non-Christians' beliefs.

Our rights as Christians have grown smaller and smaller.

Just yesterday I heard someone on national television  refer to Christians as a "small, but loud group of haters"...

I know you can be so right that you're wrong...

Lambasting a lost person over the perils of sin is no way to reach them and even if you are correct in your stance, the manner in which you hold those beliefs in your heart can make all the difference.

But I'm not concerned with the vocal Christians right now.

I'm more concerned about the silent ones.

Our society let this happen.

We didn't speak up when this ball got rolling. We didn't want to make waves...we didn't want to deal with persecution.

So we let them take out prayer.

Then Christian speakers.

Now we've got cities where pastors are forced to submit their sermons TO THE LOCAL GOVERNMENT for approval before preaching them.

That little rolling stone chasing Christians away turned into a giant boulder and we just tried to outrun it instead of throwing dynamite on it.

Are you guilty?

I certainly am not.

I speak up.

Did you say that? Yeah, me too... 

Then this happened:

I was waiting on my husband to come out of the store when I decided to check out what was trending on Facebook. Behind the usual myriad of Kardashian stories was Kirk Cameron.

He is on a cross-country marriage tour with his wife. His wife of TWENTY-FOUR YEARS, I might add so I'd consider him at least somewhat qualified.

It's a Christian seminar so the usually vocal, and much-panned, Cameron obviously applied biblical truths to marriage.

"Wives should be submissive to their husbands.." the headlines screamed.

Being familiar with the passage, and also with the message for husbands, it was a non-issue for me.

But mainstream media went wild.

He was blasted on more sites and blog posts than I could count.

Likened an abuser or a stone-age father, the attacks were vicious.

I couldn't find one article that said "Look at this guy. His wife is standing by him, smiling and happy, and has been for 24 years."

It was more of a "This poor girl has been mistreated for 24 years and she doesn't even know it."

I wanted to respond.

I wanted to defend him.

But I try not to engage on social media. I post links to my blog for my friends and family but don't go looking for a widespread audience.

Besides, I'd just had an awful Facebook experience. 

I'd been watching t.v. with my husband at the 7 P.M. hour when a razor commercial came on showing women in bikinis trimming little green bushes in front of their private areas.

I found this commercial offensive, even more so considering the early hour. I was thankful I didn't have kids at home that were asking questions about this not-so-family-friendly commercial on network television.

I decided to check online to see if anyone was protesting. I wasn't surprised when I found a Facebook page of people expressing various degrees of disapproval. It wasn't unanimous but the majority responded negatively.

I decided to calmly add my two cents..lest the majority sway toward approval.

"I am offended at this commercial. It would make me not want to buy the product."

Focus group lingo. 

I awoke the next morning to 20 comments on a post I'd made. Was it a picture of my kid? A blog post? A puppy tale?

Oh no...it was the razor comment.

I was annihilated.

Calling me names that I'd have gotten my mouth washed out for, these people ripped me to shreds.

I was shocked.

I was giving my opinion to a national company, nothing more.

I wanted to fire back. 

Ignore the trolls, I'd always advised.

So I didn't.

I wanted to delete my comment, lest any of my friends see the ensuing attack.

But then I'd have been bullied into removing my opinion.

So I left it.

I certainly didn't post any other reviews after that.

So when this Kirk Cameron thing came up, I thought about posting in his defense.

Then I remembered the razor post.

And I decided I wasn't up for the attack.

Is that what happened to us? 

We weren't up for the attack so we kept our mouths shut?

And now we are facing the end of religious freedom in America...

Are you to blame?

I am.