Bring Me That Horizon

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Home of Jenny the Pirate

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Our four children

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Our eight grandchildren

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This will go better if you

check your expectations at the door.

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We're not big on logic

but there's no shortage of irony.

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 Nice is different than good.

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Oh and ...

I flunked charm school.

So what.

Can't write anything.

> Jennifer <

Causing considerable consternation
to many fine folk since 1957

Pepper and me ... Seattle 1962

  

Hoist The Colors

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Insist on yourself; never imitate.

Your own gift you can present

every moment

with the cumulative force

of a whole life’s cultivation;

but of the adopted talent of another

you have only an extemporaneous

half possession.

That which each can do best,

none but his Maker can teach him.

> Ralph Waldo Emerson <

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Represent:

The Black Velvet Coat

Belay That!

This blog does not contain and its author will not condone profanity, crude language, or verbal abuse. Commenters, you are welcome to speak your mind but do not cuss or I will delete either the word or your entire comment, depending on my mood. Continued use of bad words or inappropriate sentiments will result in the offending individual being banned, after which they'll be obliged to walk the plank. Thankee for your understanding and compliance.

> Jenny the Pirate <

In The Market, As It Were

 

 

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Contributor to

American Cemetery

published by Kates-Boylston

A Pistol With One Shot

Ecstatically shooting everything in sight using my beloved Nikon D3100 with AF-S DX Nikkor 18-55mm 1:3.5-5.6G VR kit lens and AF-S Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 G prime lens.

Also capturing outrageous beauty left and right with my Nikon D7000 blissfully married to my Nikkor 85mm f/1.4D AF prime glass. Don't be jeal.

And then there was the Nikon AF-S DX NIKKOR 18-200mm f:3.5-5.6G ED VR II zoom. We're done here.

Dying Is A Day Worth Living For

I am a taphophile

Word. Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Great things are happening at

Find A Grave

If you don't believe me, click the pics.

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Dying is a wild night

and a new road.

Emily Dickinson

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REMEMBRANCE

When I am gone

Please remember me

 As a heartfelt laugh,

 As a tenderness.

 Hold fast to the image of me

When my soul was on fire,

The light of love shining

Through my eyes.

Remember me when I was singing

And seemed to know my way.

Remember always

When we were together

And time stood still.

Remember most not what I did,

Or who I was;

Oh please remember me

For what I always desired to be:

A smile on the face of God.

David Robert Brooks

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 Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.

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Keep To The Code

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You Want To Find This
The Promise Of Redemption

Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not;

But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.

But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost:

In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.

For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.

For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.

We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;

Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;

Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.

For we which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.

So then death worketh in us, but life in you.

We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I BELIEVED, AND THEREFORE HAVE I SPOKEN; we also believe, and therefore speak;

Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you.

For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God.

For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.

For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;

While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.

II Corinthians 4

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THE DREAMERS

In the dawn of the day of ages,
 In the youth of a wondrous race,
 'Twas the dreamer who saw the marvel,
 'Twas the dreamer who saw God's face.


On the mountains and in the valleys,
By the banks of the crystal stream,
He wandered whose eyes grew heavy
With the grandeur of his dream.

The seer whose grave none knoweth,
The leader who rent the sea,
The lover of men who, smiling,
Walked safe on Galilee --

All dreamed their dreams and whispered
To the weary and worn and sad
Of a vision that passeth knowledge.
They said to the world: "Be glad!

"Be glad for the words we utter,
Be glad for the dreams we dream;
Be glad, for the shadows fleeing
Shall let God's sunlight beam."

But the dreams and the dreamers vanish,
The world with its cares grows old;
The night, with the stars that gem it,
Is passing fair, but cold.

What light in the heavens shining
Shall the eye of the dreamer see?
Was the glory of old a phantom,
The wraith of a mockery?

Oh, man, with your soul that crieth
In gloom for a guiding gleam,
To you are the voices speaking
Of those who dream their dream.

If their vision be false and fleeting,
If its glory delude their sight --
Ah, well, 'tis a dream shall brighten
The long, dark hours of night.

> Edward Sims Van Zile <

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Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom and then lost it, have never known it again.

~ Ronald Reagan

Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Not Without My Effects

My Compass Works Fine

The Courage Of Our Hearts

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Daft Like Jack

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« And The Winner Is ... | Main | A Way Of Forgiving, Part I »
Saturday
Sep132008

A Way Of Forgiving, Part II

Forty years.

My father has been gone for forty years.

I never knew him because he abandoned our little nuclear family in 1959, when I was two years old. My sister was three. And although I was eleven when he perished in a horrific plane crash on Friday, September 13, 1968, in Hollywood, California, it would be two more years before I learned of his death.

We didn't exactly keep in touch.

I know the precise location of my father's grave -- Pierce Brothers Valhalla Cemetery, 10621 Victory Boulevard, North Hollywood, Los Angeles County, California, 91606 ... Lot 2, Section 228, Veterans Memorial Garden -- but I have never visited it or seen a picture.

I would like to stand there someday, and simply be near his earthly remains.

Erma Bombeck wrote that before she became a mother, she had lots of theories about childrearing. Later she had four kids and no theories.

I have reared four wonderful children (with the help of my darling, their father), and a few of my theories have survived intact. Here's one:

Whatever else you can or cannot provide for your children, either materially or otherwise, in my view the very least you can do is be there.

Just be there.

And no ... I don't mean in the quasi-smarmy vernacular that says "I'm there for you." I mean be there. Actually, physically be there. Every day, until your days run out.

Perhaps you'd say, well, what about abusive parents?

Abandonment is child abuse.

I would give years off my life to be wrong.

How I wish I could write something that sounds all lovey-dovey, like, Oh Daddy, I love you and I miss you. Someday I'll see you again. Talk with the angels until I get there.

But I can't, because I never called my father "Daddy" ... or anything. That I know of. Certainly I don't remember ever speaking to him, or even being in his presence.

Since I have no memory of him and have been given precious little information about him, I think what I love is simply the idea that, like other people, I once had a father. Of course I had a father, but you know what I mean.

Because I'm as introspective as I am extroverted, I do a lot of living inside a heart which tends to be as melancholy as it is stubborn. Consequently I've crafted a sort of relationship with a dead person whose tenuous connection to my life is based chiefly on anecdotal evidence.

Not quite the same as being walked down the aisle on your wedding day by a dad with tears in his eyes, or buying a Father's Day card for someone whose blood actually runs in your veins. Not to mention tenderly placing his grandchildren into his arms, or having him tell you that he's proud of the woman you've become.

But when my Papaw walked me down the aisle to marry Greg, by God's grace I was able to do something that might not have been possible if my father had stayed.

I was able to give my four children the kind of father who would never desert them. A father who today, if need be, I am certain would lay down his life for them.

I was privileged to rear those children in a Christian home with parents who love one another and who are committed to one another, even though we are not exactly perfect and this fact has made for some interesting situations over these thirty years.

I have seen each of my four children come to Christ and accept salvation, and go on to live in a way that honors the Lord. My grandchildren are being brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord as well.

My father had no testimony of faith in Christ. I believe he was lost and is in hell today**. I will likely never see him again, even in eternity.

I would give years off my life to be wrong.

If he accepted Christ's finished work on the cross of Calvary (the only way to heaven), obtained forgiveness and mercy, and is in the presence of his Savior now, that will be all the more reason for me to praise God while the ages roll.

I believe my marriage and family is one of the ways through which God has restored to me the years that the locust has eaten (Joel 2:25). And although there are times I am angry with my father and have nowhere to go with the pain but to the Lord, in that blessed truth I find a way of forgiving.

Listen to the song again.

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Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also. And whither I go ye know, and the way ye know. Thomas saith unto him, Lord, we know not whither thou goest; and how can we know the way? Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me. (John 14:1-6)

I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. (John 11:25)

# # # #

Blanchard Guy McManus

October 16, 1930 - September 13, 1968

I do love you, Daddy.

# # # #

** Not because he was a "bad person" -- my father was a sinner, no worse than you or me -- but because Scripture tells us that a literal lake of fire is the final destination of all those who reject the Son of God.

And I saw a great white throne, and him that sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heaven fled away; and there was found no place for them. And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; and the books were opened: and another book was opened, which is the book of life: and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books, according to their works. And the sea gave up the dead which were in it; and death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them: and they were judged every man according to their works. And death and hell were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death. And whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire. (Revelation 20:11-15)

It doesn't have to end there.

So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord. (I Corinthians 15:54-58)

For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast. (Ephesians 2:8-9)

# # # #

Reader Comments (13)

Jennifer, I am so sorry that you never knew your father.
But, you know, I have come to the conclusion that God creates us, plans our days, and gives us the opportunity to show Christ through our struggles. For you, it was having no father, for someone else, it was being crippled and never being able to enjoy life as other people do, or for someone else, it may be born in a tent in Africa.

I think that you have handled this well and will have great rewards for accepting Christ, forgiving your father, and obeying the Scriptures as you learn them.

Sometimes the evil one would like for us to look at others and compare our situation. I have done enough of that. The Scriptures say, "the first will be last and the last will be first." We don't understand that, but we will not be judged the way we would judge.

You have a lovely post and I love it that you are doing better than you would have done had you had a father. I have come to the conclusion that when children have it all, they live like they do not need Christ. Suffering is a good thing. Without it, we would gain the world, but lose our souls.

Thank you for laying your thoughts out here on your blog post. I love the way you think. You are such a dear person. Thank you, thank you!

September 13, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterCheryl

Thank you for posting this. It has reminded me of all that I have to be thankful for. Very well written, you have a great talent.

September 13, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterAudrey

Breaking the cycle is essential and to be commended, too. You are blessed for having realized that we can become new creatures in Christ Jesus alone, and then changing things for your children.

September 15, 2008 | Unregistered Commenterrosezilla

Thank you, Cheryl, Audrey, and Tracie. To God alone be the glory.

September 15, 2008 | Registered CommenterJennifer

I'm so sorry that this happened to you. Fathers are so important, and to grow up without yours must have been tough.

My mother was around forty years old the first time she stood at her father's grave. He died on her first birthday, during WWII, and is buried in Normandy. It was very touching to be near his body. Though the circumstances were very different, it was healing for her just to be close to him.

Give yourself a hug for me.

Becky

September 15, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterWonders Never Cease

This must have been a difficult post for you to write. But I hope it gave you some relief and perhaps a sense of peace.
In an indirect way, your dad taught you some valuable lessons: how to choose the right man to marry and how to be an excellent parent. I know, because I learned the same from my father.

September 15, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterKeli

@ Becky ... that's a great story. My daughter went to Normandy three years ago and when she came home she could hardly talk about the crosses in the American cemetery there, without breaking down. I hope she stood somewhere near your grandfather, who was a great American hero. Thanks for stopping by.

@ Keli ... we do teach our children whether we are there or not, don't we? It did help me to write that. Thanks for your encouragement.

September 16, 2008 | Registered CommenterJennifer

I knew my father, but never really did. He left us when I was 16, and was a voice on the phone, or a random appearance down the years, full of unkept promises and unsaid words. When he left for good -- suddenly, and with questions only he could answer, and he took those with him -- I was left, as the oldest son, to step up and deal with the mess he left behind. I did it, with no shortage of anger, embarrassment, resentment, and with no answers for anyone who asked "why?".

That's been two years ago in July. I'm not sure I've truly forgiven, but I have accepted that he was what he was: imperfect and human. God rest him. Life goes on.

With that said, I am glad you have found the peace with this that you have. And better still, your kids have benefited from your experience. I reckon your father would have some pride in that knowledge. I reckon most fathers, good bad or indifferent, would.

September 16, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterSkunkfeathers

@ SF ... I surely do hope so. I mean, it is possible to make choices that give your children a better foundation than you had, and I believe that by God's grace my husband and I have done that. I'm sorry for what you've suffered and for the final loss of your father. God bless.

September 16, 2008 | Registered CommenterJennifer

This was both wonderful and sad. As always, it was incredibly well written.

Thank you for sharing this with us.

September 16, 2008 | Unregistered Commenterkev

Kev, as always thanks for your kindness.

September 16, 2008 | Registered CommenterJennifer

Thanks Mom, this was a great article. I am so thankful that you gave me his middle name. I love him too.

September 18, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterAndrew

Hey son. You're named after two grandfathers: your dad's and your own. They both would have loved you as well.

September 18, 2008 | Registered CommenterJennifer

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