Dear Future President

Dear Future President:

I don’t know who you are, and where you’ll be found….but I’m hoping you exist somewhere in this universe. I’ll vote for you, I’ll blog about you, Facebook you till the cows come home IF: Continue reading

The Littlest

Well, this is the last of my KID posts. If you’ve kept up with me, you’ve seen The Firstborn, and the Middler. I stuck them up permanently with a permanent sticking charm on my Home Page.

I figure folks should know what they are getting into before deciding to follow me. Just from these three posts, you can tell a lot about the Party Girl.  I could nutshell it for you.

I believe in God. And I believe there are people….I call them sensitives,  that can tap into the vibrations of the world. The ones most people can’t feel.

And I tend to lean more toward my Grandpa’s take on God.

When my Mom was little, she had many questions about God. Grampa took Mom outside…and knelt down. He scooped up some dark, rich soil. The very soil that he had grown many acres of corn and beans in for the better part of his life.

Me and Grampa

He told her…this is God. He pointed at all the wonders of the world, and continued to say…this is God.

I come from a Catholic family. I honor them by keeping tradition as much as I can.

But I never forget my Grandpa’s description of God.

I’ll take a huge leap here….and say that I believe God put God Energy in each of us. I think that energy was alive and well in this story I tell of my youngest.

My Youngest.

The Littlest

Something was wrong.

But what, I couldn’t be sure.

One day, I realized, I was waiting for him.

I had been told these days were past.

Have you ever missed someone you’ve never met?

I found a prayer in the back of a well-read newspaper at the coffee shop, a novena to Mother Mary.

I stole the newspaper.

Pray it once a day for three days it said.

On the fourth day, your prayer will be answered clearly.

I said it 3 times a day.

For three days.

When something is missing, you’ll do anything to find it.

On the fourth day, my phone went off.

A new voicemail from an old friend.

A garbled message that cut in and out with a song in the background.

One she thought I might like.

You’ll Be Blessed, by Elton John

Hey you, you’re a child in my head

You haven’t walked yet

Your first words have yet to be said

But I swear you’ll be blessed

I know you’re still just a dream

your eyes might be green

Or the bluest that I’ve ever seen

Anyway you’ll be blessed

And you, you’ll be blessed

You’ll have the best

I promise you that

I’ll pick a star from the sky

Pull your name from a hat

I promise you that, promise you that, promise you that

You’ll be blessed

I need you before I’m too old

To have and to hold

To walk with you and watch you grow

And know that you’re blessed

I stopped everything.

I listened.

I cried.

I knew.

2 weeks later I felt dizzy when I stood up from tucking my little girl in for the night.

My blessing was born 8 months later.

When I questioned my friend about the message, I could hear her puzzled expression over the phone.

“Lis…I left you that message 6 months ago!”

The Firstborn

My dear friend Madame Weebles has inspired me to tell a story. She herself has been telling tales of moments that make you believe there is a force in the universe much larger than ourselves. I’ll urge you to visit her over at Fear No Weebles. You won’t be disappointed.

Now for my story. Continue reading

Church of Baseball

I believe in the Church of Baseball.

I’ve tried all the major religions, and most of the minor ones.

I’ve worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, trees, mushrooms, and Isadora Duncan.

I know things.

For instance, there are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball.

When I heard that, I gave Jesus a chance.

But it just didn’t work out between us.

The Lord laid too much guilt on me.

I prefer metaphysics to theology.

You see, there’s no guilt in baseball, and it’s never boring… which makes it like sex.

There’s never been a ballplayer slept with me who didn’t have the best year of his career.

Making love is like hitting a baseball: you just gotta relax and concentrate.

Besides, I’d never sleep with a player hitting under .250… not unless he had a lot of RBIs and was a great glove man up the middle.

You see, there’s a certain amount of life wisdom I give these boys.

I can expand their minds. Sometimes when I’ve got a ballplayer alone, I’ll just read Emily Dickinson or Walt Whitman to him, and the guys are so sweet, they always stay and listen.

‘Course, a guy’ll listen to anything if he thinks it’s foreplay.

I make them feel confident, and they make me feel safe, and pretty.

‘Course, what I give them lasts a lifetime; what they give me lasts 142 games.

Sometimes it seems like a bad trade.

But bad trades are part of baseball – now who can forget Frank Robinson for Milt Pappas, for God’s sake?

It’s a long season and you gotta trust it.

I’ve tried ’em all, I really have, and the only church that truly feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the Church of Baseball.

Annie Savoy played by Susan Sarandon in Bull Durham

Our Deepest Fear

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.'
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine, as children do.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
From Marianne Williamson's book, A Return to Love  (many attribute this quote to Nelson Mandela,
and others have used it as well. It was Marianne:)
I write this quote in every graduation card I give out.
And I write it in my heart, so that I never forget.
This article shows all the places these gorgeous words have been used♥