Robb Bussa

 You've been introduced to my son Joshua who is a main character in my books, now I'd like to introduce you to my brother. He is one of the main characters in my new novel, Withstanding the Storm. Robb is a very  important part of this book, and will be in the books to follow in the Seasons Series, which the novel is the first installment. 

Robb Bussa was the first born of Larry and Marianne Bussa on November 12, 1969. He was born a healthy, happy baby boy. I'm not exactly sure, but I'm guessing that five years later, when his baby sister (me!!) was born he was thrilled. I know that his entire life he loved being a big brother and he was good at it. 

He hated his middle name, (and out of respect for him and that fact, I'll leave it out of this post) but he loved his first name. He always seemed so proud of his name and our southern Ohio heritage. He, as did I, loved being from our little town of Friendship, Ohio and had the best group of friends that were more like family. (Spoiler alert, you'll meet a lot of them in the new novel as well!) Robb and I were always happiest when we were in our little part of the world there on the Ohio River. 

Life got hard, real hard for the two of us. I won't go into the details here because that's not what this post is about, but it is important to mention that things were not easy. Robb was older and had a way out to deal with the hard times, but he always worried about me. In fact, even though he was very happy with his life in southern Ohio, when it came time for him to chose his happiness and my well-being, he chose me. He gave up everything that he loved in life and moved three hours away for my benefit. This is how much he loved me and shows how he would give up anything for me, his precious little sister. Now, I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Robb was no saint. He was human and he was definitely not perfect, but he cared. He loved. He did what he could to always be there for his little sister. 

Me on the other hand, I was not so caring. I'm ashamed to say this, but at that time in my life I thought only of myself. I couldn't see how he loved me or what he was doing for me. There were many times in my life that Robb was literally the only person that I had. He had his problems and I had mine, but he chose to stand by me. Again please don't get me wrong, I helped him and we had many, many examples of how we were both there for each other but when push comes to shove, he was certainly a better brother than I was a sister. 

In his last days, I could not see past my own hurt and be there for him. He was dying and I knew it. I can see now that I couldn't stand the thought of life without my brother and I was very mad at him. I pushed him to fight for his life when he had no fight left in him. I didn't understand that pain that he was in, all I could see was myself and not wanting to live a life without him. So instead, I yelled at him. I begged him to fight and when he said no, I got mad. 

My last conversation with him is one that I will never forget. He called me that morning and asked me to do something for him. I was busy so I said no. I told him that he would be just find to do it himself, (it was just to make a phone call, something I could have easily done for him.) He finally agreed that he would make the phone call and I hastily tried to end the call. He stopped me from hanging up and said "Steph... I love you."

"Yeah, love you too" I said and quickly hung up. I would give almost anything in the world to get those last few minutes back. It was like he knew but I didn't. Just a few hours later I received a call from my step-dad. A call I will never forget, because I have not been able to take a breathe the same ever since. 

"Steph, Robb's gone!" he said. Thinking that he wasn't there I shrugged it off and asked him to check with his friends and that he was probably there. "No, Steph, listen, he's here but he's gone!" 

Reality slowly sank in and I felt my own heart stop. Brothers don't die! He can't be dead! "Call the squad! Get somebody there quick to help him!" I screamed. The squad was already there. My brother was gone. There would be no more phone calls. No more visits. No more late night talks with pizza while playing video games. No more anything. He was gone. My brother's life had ended with me fighting with him and refusing to accept his choices. 

That night was 16 1/2 years ago. Thursday, August 19, 2004. A day I hate. A day I will never forget. A day I will forever regret. I will never regret any of my actions more than this day. Life has gone on and I have raised my babies, those nieces and nephews that he adored more than life itself. They grew up without their uncle and there's nothing I can do about that. I am powerless to change anything that happened that day and I have learned so much from it. 

Because of Robb I had life. no, he didn't give me life but he fought for it. He helped me and kept me going so many times. The fact that I couldn't be there for him breaks my heart into pieces that will never be fixed. 

However, I get to give him life again in my books. Robb was also a writer so I know if he has a window to watch me that he is so proud that I have taken the profession that he and my dad had and let them live on through my writing. So it only made sense to bring him back to life in my books, only with my children who have passed on. 

This new novel, if you haven't guessed, is very personal for me. Robb and my children get to go on adventures together and enjoy time together. Robb gets to show the kids some of the things that were very important to us when we were young, including those close friends I mentioned earlier. His physical life may be over, but I will never let his memory die. I will forever be changed by his death. I will forever make every moment count and try my hardest not to let myself leave someone being upset with them. I always try to make sure to tell my loved ones how much I adore them because I learned from Robb, among many other things, that life doesn't ever guarantee another second. 

I love you big brother and I miss you desperately. I promise I will keep writing. I promise I will keep loving. I'm so glad I was able to give you life again and I can't wait to see what all else you will get to do with your niece and nephew in the remainder of the Seasons Series. 

"Good" Friday Reflection

 My husband and I just had a conversation about something that I had thought of in my heart my entire life. Today is Good Friday. It is the day that we remember that Jesus died on the cross. The day that he was betrayed by all of his creation, He was beaten, bruised and completely broken. He was brutally murdered yet completely innocent. He was tortured for us. What is good about that? Why do we call it good? 

I can only answer this one way. It was good for us. It was the best news ever for us, at the time anyway, because we all know that the best news comes on Sunday! It is good news because there is nothing that we could ever do to pay for our sins, but in his death He made the way for us. So even though His murder was horrible, it was still good for us, thus Good Friday. 

I like to think of this day as a day of reflection. To reflect on the events of the entire week. One of my biggest fears (other than if you know me, SNAKES!) is knowing when I am about to die. Jesus spent this entire week doing things for people knowing not only that he would die within days but knowing fully what all would happen. I can't even imagine! I'm terrified to lay on my death bed knowing I'm dying soon, but He lived His life healthy knowing the horrors that would be coming to Him at the end of the week. Just to reflect on that one thing amazes me to speechlessness. But there's more. 

Jesus spent His last week on earth the same way He spent the rest of His human life. He loved His people. He knew He way going to be leaving them and He wanted to prepare them for His absence. His only concern was for His loved ones. His love truly knows no bounds. 

Jesus was praised then thrown to the wolves. He could have at any moment spoken one word and it all would've stopped, but He didn't. He kept pushing on and loving His people all the way until the end. Reflecting on this brings me to my knees in praise. I will never be able to fathom the love that He has for us. 

So in reflection on Good Friday, it is good. It is good because He is good. He is more than good. There is no word in the English language worthy of explaining how good He is. Yet, I constantly fail Him. I constantly stray. But He constantly stays right there ready to take me back. As the song says, there is truly none like Him. 

The Inspiration

 My childhood was not the best. I don't say that to place blame on anyone, I am way past that. I say that just because it is fact and it helps explain some things in this post. Life is what we make it and we learn from the good but I'd say we probably learn even better from the bad things that we experience in our lives. This is just one example of something that I've learned. 

When I was a young girl I didn't live with my mom. There were a lot of times that I was not allowed to see her and she lived three hours away so I was away from her a lot. When I was in middle school I was desperate for extra time with my mom and still not getting much. Again, I am not saying this for pity and to place blame, there is a point, please stay with me. 

I grew up an awesome time when music was at its best (in my opinion anyway). Yes, if you haven't guessed it, I grew up in the eighties. Music has always been an important part of my life, but in the eighties there were quite a few songs that really helped me get through those hard times. One such song is the subject of this blogpost. 

I was more into the hair bands, good ole rock n roll; Motley Crue, Poison, Bon Jovi, Guns n Roses, all those good ones. But I also liked some of the softer rock. Chicago was one of my favorites for the softer rock. They had a love song called "You're the Inspiration". Now this song was obviously written for a couples type of love, but in my state of mind at the time, I related it to a different kind of love. 

The song starts "You know our love was meant to be, the kind of love that lasts forever. And I want you here with me, from tonight until the end of time." From the very first line, this song would be my love song to my mom. She and I were supposed to love each other forever. It was never meant to be a quick love, but mother and daughter together forever. We were supposed to be spending a lot of time together and she was supposed to be helping me grow and learn the ways of this crazy world. Unfortunately for us, that is not what God had planned. (But it's good in the end, so keep hanging on!)

The next verse had me thinking of my mom even more. "You should know everywhere I go, Always on my  mind, in my heart, in my soul." Shouldn't moms be the one who always should know where a pre-teen girl goes? Shouldn't a mom always be always in a young girls heart, soul and mind? All the other girls had their moms to talk to. This song gave me hope to know that even though she wasn't with me, I was on my mom's heart. This song reminded me that my mom was my everything even if she wasn't right by my side. 

Another verse talks about how its plain to see that we're so in love when we were together. How its clear to everyone that sees the couple how much they love each other and how special they are to each other. I would think about that when I would get to visit my mom and how others could tell that we were happy together. not in a couples love kind of way, obviously, but that we had a special relationship and loved each other and were happy to be together. 

The chorus says "You're the meaning in my life, you're the inspiration. You bring feeling to my life, you're the inspiration. I wanna have you near me. I wanna have you near me saying, no one needs you more than I need you." This was the part where I'd start bawling. Who needs a mother more than a daughter? No one! When listening to this I would start screaming "No one needs you more than I need you!" I would yell out wishing desperately that she would hear and come get me. No matter what, a young girl needs her mom and nothing else is more important. 

When I was a little older, Thanksgiving of the eighth grade year to be exact, I was allowed to move to my mom's house. I was so happy! But I had also grown to be very bitter. The young girl who had lived a lonely sad life in a small town was now finally living with her mom in a big city. No friends and no clue. I became quite the brat. So even though now I was finally spending every day with my mom, it wasn't long before I became bitter and rebelled and my poor mom got the brunt of it. It wasn't her fault and deep down I was just happy to be with her, but I was not nice. 

In those dark days, I would turn this song off every time it came on. I refused to listen to it because I knew my attitude was wrong. I loved my mom so much, but I hadn't yet learned how to deal with my feelings and for some reason, just directed them all towards my mom; she was just the closest person around and the easiest target. Before you ask, yes, I've apologized profusely to my mom and I will even do so now. Mom, I know you're reading this. I'm so sorry for all the pain I put you through and I love you so much. I couldn't have made it this far without you. Thank you for never giving up on me!!

So now when I hear that song I have a number of emotions. I re-live my entire life when I hear You're the Inspiration. My lonely childhood flashes by and I feel sad, then my bitter, angry years and I'm filled with shame. Finally, my adult life, where I can see how special my mom is and how much I love her. She has done so much for me and in every part of my life, even when I was miserable and no one should have loved me, she was always there. On my mind, in my heart and in my soul. My inspiration. Love that I didn't deserve. Love just because. 

Now I'm old. I've raised my own kids and have enjoyed seeing my mom be the best Momaw ever. I see how close she is to my kids and how much they adore her also. I see how blessed I am. I know that I was right in dedicating this song to my mom. She is an amazing woman. She has been through hell and make multiple times and she's still standing. She's still loving and forgiving; more than me that's for sure. I'm so lucky. I'm so blessed. Thank you mom so much for everything. I know I haven't been the best daughter, but I love you and appreciate you more than you'll ever know. 

Peter Cetera and the rest of Chicago might have had a different idea in mind, but I'm so glad that they gave us this song, because it has taught me so much about life and how important moms are. No, how important MY mom is. I love you mom. 9

You're the Inspiration

Father's Day

Don't blink! It's what they always say. Time goes by too fast and people you love will be gone before you know it. Don't wish to grow up too quickly and respect your parents while they are here. These are all things that you hear and never think about-until it's too late, that is. I am no different; I have heard these things my entire life and never paid any attention to them and now it is too late. Now I celebrate Father's day by visiting my dad's grave.

My dad is buried in the very small town that I grew up in; Friendship, Ohio. He has been gone six years now. He is buried beside my brother and behind my grandparents. I spent a lot of time at this place, Friendship Cemetery, with my dad. We would visit graves and he would tell me stories of the family members that had gone on before us. He was a great story teller and I loved listening to his stories. I can still point out many of the graves and tell some of the stories; although not quite as good as he once did. Later on, we would visit my brother's grave. This would prove to be the hardest grave I would ever visit. My dad's health began failing so I would help him get down the hill and we would sit and talk about my grandparents and my brother. Neither of us had ever dreamed that my brother would be gone so soon; but there it was, his name on a headstone.

Friendship Cemetery became a place that I would visit every time that I would travel to my hometown so today was no different. It was as if my car automatically knows where to turn and where to stop. It sometimes feels like a magnet is drawing me there at times. My entire childhood is laying there in their graves in one block of the cemetery. I always wonder when I am there, "Why am I still here?" It has been a real struggle in my life since they have all passed.

But today is Father's day, so today is about my dad. I had the unexpected pleasure of being down home today, so I went to "visit" him. I sat at his grave and tried to clear away some of the grass and tidy it up a bit. I left a Father's Day card for him. Yes I know that he will never see it. I know that the rain will destroy the card eventually or some form of nature will destroy it. But I needed to leave it for him anyway. It's funny, if he were here he would ask me why I was littering. I promise daddy, this is the only littering that I will ever do.

So today as the rest of the country celebrates Father's Day I will celebrate by remembering. I remember how much he loved me. I remember the big smile that would quickly grow on his face when I would come to visit. I remember his beautiful blue eyes, the same ones that he gave me. I remember how he would take me out to look at the stars. I remember how he would tell me stories of our ancestors. I also remember how everyone told me not to blink and to not take things for granted. I didn't listen. My daddy is gone forever and I will not see him ever again in this life. But I will see him in my mind and he will always be there. So if you still have your parents, your grandparents, your siblings, your loved ones with you please love them. Let them know how much they mean to you. Don't wait until it's too late and all that you have is a grave to visit. Conversations take a drastic turn when it becomes one-on-one with a stone.

The stone I made for my dad. 

My dad loved dogs. This little puppy "sleeps" all snuggled up between his and my brother's headstones. I sure wish I could snuggle up in my daddy's lap like I did when I was young. 

This is the headstone that my mom helped me make for my dad. I didn't have the money to buy him one so I tried desperately to make it look nice. The Bum Bowl was a football game played at my grandma's house every year at Thanksgiving. My dad's nickname was "Bum"

The grave of my dad and my brother. I still blows my mind to think that this is all that is left of them. My heart breaks at the thought every time. This feeling will never end. 

Happy Father's Day Daddy. I love you. I miss you. 

I wish you were still here. 

Scrapbook Memorial

I was doing some housework the other day and I came across a bin full of pictures that had been stored away. We were trying to sell our house at one point and were told by our realtor to put most personal things away because people like to visualize their own lives in the house, not yours. I had so much fun re-living these precious moments as I looked through the images of my life. As I dug through the pictures I came across a scrapbook that I had made and my heart stopped. Somehow, I had forgotten about this scrapbook but as I flipped the pages my mind and my heart were back in the time that I had made it. This scrapbook was a memorial to my son Joshua Daniel,  the child that I had aborted.

I had made this scrapbook as a part of my healing journey through the HEART (Healing the Effects of Abortion Related Trauma) program. This is the front cover. Simple, yet powerful. He has a name. He has an identity. This book proves it. He had not even one breathe on this earth, but he was a person. 

I won't share the entire book in this post, but I picked a few pages to share. First, of course, is his introduction. I was seventeen weeks pregnant when I had the abortion and had planned on keeping him so when I was dealing with my abortion my mom had found the ultrasound picture that had somehow, praise God been kept tucked away. This is the only picture I will ever have of my son. You can see his head, his body, the cord that provided life to him. You can see that he was a human. He had life. There should be no question to that fact. 

The next picture that I want to share in this post is one of the many pages in my scrapbook that show my questions. With abortion you are left with nothing but questions. What would he have looked like? What color eyes would he have had? Would he be a lot like his siblings? Would he look like them? This page in my book is a personal one. I have a huge love for dogs. I am questioning if he would have had the same love. Which breed would be his favorite? Would he have preferred large dogs or small ones? Would he have been a cat lover instead? Maybe I could've bought him a little stuffed animal that looked like is favorite dog; if only I knew the answers to this question. If only I had let him live. The questions always lead to regret.                                                                              

         

The next two pages that I want to share are heart-wrenching. Young parents should buy stick in band-aides, they are used constantly. I hated to see my children hurt, but when they would come to me with a boo-boo and want me to kiss is and cover it with a band-aid my heart just melted. I loved being there for my children and that was a symbol for me of my presence and care for them. They were also a symbol of the child who's boo-boos I would never be able to kiss and make better. I will never hear his cries and I will never be able to help him through his hearts. He is gone and will never return to me. I made the "choice" and I will live with it every day of my life. 

When you turn to the next page all you see is a blank page. You have to lift the sheet of paper to see what I have written. It is a symbol of all that is blank in my life now due to the "choice" of abortion. I learned too late that he was more than a clump of cells. He was m y child. I am the mother of a child in Heaven. My heart will forever have an empty space and long for this child. Notice that I wrote these words in red. This is to symbolize the blood on my hands regarding his death. Yes, not the abortion, not the end of my pregnancy but his death. That is what he experienced that October day; death.

I will forever miss my child. I will forever love my child. My precious Joshua Daniel Loughman, you were loved too late, but you are loved. You are missed. I hope I can use your short life to help save other lives in your memory. Forever, I am sorry and I love you dearly. Until we meet in Heaven.

New Life

Lately I've been struggling in my Christian walk. Even before this whole COVID thing, I haven't been able to go to church in a very long time because I am a server and in my business, you work on Sundays. I haven't yet found a church that I could attend on Sunday evenings and my church doesn't have that option. So as I go about my daily struggle, I have been praying and asking God to take me back to the day I was saved. I wanted to remember the joy, the amazement and the acceptance that I felt that wonderful night. Then God reminded me that I envision things so much better when I write about them, so I decided to blog about it.

I had been living a life of wondering. Mental breakdowns, bad choices and bitterness had ruled my life so far and I had no clue that there was any life besides that. At twenty-three years old I had already been divorced, had a baby out of wedlock and had an abortion. I didn't go to college and had no direction in life except to raise my son the best I could, I adored him with all my heart and he was the only thing in life to look forward to that I had.

There was a guy that I worked with named Jason  that I had felt drawn to. He was a Christian and was always singing hymns and praise songs. It was in a lumber yard, most of the people there were not very Christian friendly and most picked on him quite a bit. I was brought up in the church and would always get picked on for going to church so I felt the need to stand up for him. I was constantly telling the guys to leave him alone. After seeing me take a stand for him, Jason and I started to talk. He was telling me about the Bible and I started feeling drawn to read God's Word. One day, Jason told me about a Christmas play at his church. That would be the night my life changed forever.

Jason's church was in another town, about an hour away. He lived in yet another town, so we met half way and I followed him to the church. When we got there, I found out that Jason was actually in the play and we were among the first there because he had to have a practice run-through before. So I sat there by myself in an empty, very big church. That was a big thing for me because I had a fear of being alone. It left me alone to my thoughts and I had fought very hard in my past to never be alone with my thoughts.

But there I sat, totally alone and when people did start trickling in, I had no idea who they were and they didn't know me, so no one came to speak to me. I spent that time doing what I had always done when I was alone, thought about how miserable I was and hearing my thoughts betray me and tell me that I would never be a good person worthy of living, let alone do anything good. I fighting tears (something else that I NEVER let anyone see me do!) before the play even started.

A few scenes into the play I was transported. My body sat in a church full of strangers, but my soul seemed to be in a different dimension. It was like no one around me could see me or hear me. But I did hear a voice. To me, it was very audible and I knew exactly who this voice was. It was Jesus, I have no question about this. He asked me if I was finally sick of the life that I had been living. I quickly replied "YES!" I was totally broken. I literally felt as if my entire soul lay on the floor in a thousand pieces like a puzzle, desperate for someone to put me back together. (Yes, I am a very imaginative person.) God spoke to me and told me that He had always been with me and that He was waiting for my return to Him. He told me that He loved me and I asked how He could with all that I had done, tears now streaming down my face. I didn't see anything but I felt God wrap His amazing arms around me and tell me that He loved me regardless of what I had done. He told me that I was His child whether I felt like it or not and that He died for me. He wanted to know if I was ready to give my life to Him and begin living what can only be the true way to live, in Him. I told Him that I had nothing left; nothing left to offer. He told me all He wanted was me. I gladly accepted that invitation that night and have never regretted it since.

Now I realize that some may read this and laugh. God actually talking to me, like that happened, right?  My answer is simple, yes! This wasn't a physical conversation, it was a spiritual one. I really can't explain it because I don't think that it's something that our finite minds con comprehend but I know without any shadow of a doubt that I was reborn that day. It was a miracle that has changed me totally. I didn't all the sudden become happy, I became full of joy. I had a completely different outlook on life when I walked out of the church that night.

About a month later, I was beginning to get involved in a church and had even met the man who would become my husband. I was setting out for a life in Christ. I went to work and I saw Jason. He had been driving an hour to work every day because there were no jobs available in his area. He told me one day that a transfer had been approved for him to work at the store nearer to his home. I told him that I believed that he had been there for me so he could help guide me to God. He said "Ya know, I think you're right and it was totally worth it. I'm so glad I could be a part of that for you." I thanked him for all he had done.

Other than him coming to my wedding a few months later, I have not seen Jason since. The story isn't about him, but I thank God for using him as a help to guide me to God. I will forever be thankful. I hope that God will use me as a "Jason" to someone. My life belongs to Jesus and I hope that people see that and that God will use me to guide others to Him. I guess I just needed to go back to where it all began for me and I wanted to share it with you, my friends. Never forget, God is good. He is life-changing. He is the One True Way.

Unicorns and Challenges

This blog has unfortunately been way more sporadic than I had hoped it would be. Lately, I have been wanting to devote more time to writing and have even joined a group to help me with that. One of the things that I have committed to is to use this blog more often. So I asked my fan base on Facebook to give me some ideas of things to write about. My number one fan, who is always there for me no matter what (my amazing husband) is the only reply that I got. While my husband is my rock, he also is at times a smart aleck and a silly goose and decided to give me something weird to write about. He said he wants to read about unicorns. Ok my love, challenge accepted. 

So when I think of unicorns I usually go back to my childhood. Pretty little ponies with flowing manes and of course crazy colors. The beautiful creatures that we would see in a Lisa Frank coloring book were always some of my favorites, they were always so pretty. I knew that they were mythical but I have a very active imagination and could always see myself riding one through the air and it being my best friend. It was fun to imagine. But I never took it any farther than that because well, they're not real and I understood that. 

When my husband asked me to write about unicorns, (Which if you didn't catch it, he was just being a goofball, he didn't really want to read about unicorns but he is now!) I figured I would do a little research and see what I could find to write about. Oh my was I surprised! People actually asking if unicorns are real and how to become one! It mad me sad for our society that has become so down and clueless. Or maybe they are all just being silly like my husband, who knows? 

I got another shock when I found out that unicorns are actually mentioned in the Bible. "Really? I thought! No way!" So I looked it up and there it was in black and white. Unicorns are actually in the Bible. One verse is Psalm 92:10 and it says 

But my horn shalt thou exalt like the horn of an unicorn: 

I shall be anointed with fresh oil. 

There are other verses as well where unicorns are mentioned in Numbers and Deuteronomy. I couldn't believe it! Surely, they weren't talking about what we see as unicorns! So I changed the version of the Bible I was looking at and realized that they are only called unicorns in one of them; the King James Version. All of the others that I looked at referred to the animal as ox or oxen. Now maybe my husband who studies Hebrew and Greek can tell us why they would call an ox a unicorn, but I surely cannot. It will take more study to figure that one out. 

I also found something that wasn't quite as shocking. People had asked if unicorns were extinct and they were answered with a website for the WWF that talks about the unicorn being in danger. I love their imagination and sense of humor in this! On the site, you scroll through some things that talk about what the horns are being poached for and why the unicorns are in danger, then about halfway down it says "Getting Real About Unicorns". The site then goes on to tell the reader that unicorns are not real but there is a real animal that is similar and in real need of help. That animal is the rhinoceros. WWF makes the connection and does a wonderful job showing the need for real help for this very real creature. 

So I've given just three small things that I have found in my mini search for unicorns, "so what?" you ask.  Am I just rambling? No, I've found a lesson in even this small, silly task. A few actually, 

Lesson one is that you can find information about anything on the internet, Big deal, everyone knows that. But does everyone realize that just because it's on there that doesn't make it true? I sure hope all of the people asking if unicorns were real and how to become one were kidding, but knowing how society is these days, I'm not so sure. The lesson is that we need to be careful in the things we read on the internet and don't just automatically believe that they are true. I believe that may be part of the reason that we have sunken so low as a society is because we just openly believe anything that we hear. 

The one thing that everyone doesn't just automatically believe when they hear it is the fact that God loves you so much that He sent His Son Jesus to die on the cross to pay for your sins. That's the most important thing to believe! But that also brings me to lesson number 2, taking things out of context. I could have just read that verse in Psalms and said "See, unicorns are real! It says so in the Bible!" Sadly, people do that all the time and it causes so much confusion and makes people turn away from the truth. You have to dig into the Word and see what it is truly saying. You can't take just one verse and make it what you want it to be. 

Lesson three, be like the great folks at WWF. Be gentle and use things for good. Take something silly and use it to show a real need. But don't get stuck on the imaginary. It's ok to imagine, like I said I have a huge imagination. I can picture things that others can't and I love having that ability. But I have to recognize what's real and what's not. I was shocked when I found out that not everyone knows that. I'm not trying to pat myself on the back or anything, I'm just sharing what I have learned. 

So thank you Cary, my wonderful husband. Thank you for the challenge that you probably didn't even realize that you were giving me (or maybe you did it on purpose?). Thank you for reminding me that there is a lesson in everything and that researching and digger deeper is always necessary to get the real truth. Ok, who's next? What's the next crazy thing you all would like for me to write about?