The Definition of Happiness 

To find guacamole on your eyeglasses while walking on fish crackers when you feed chips to your grandkids in your bed.


Something Weird


I received this image in my mind a few days ago.

The world around us is like a limitless field full with boxes. Each box contains an “item” that has the power of life or the power of death in it.
When we come into the world, we are without sin, but prompted to sin. Because we live in a broken and sick world, our inclinations lead us to choose the things under the patronage of death. It is unnatural to us to love and be kind.
The boxes under the influence of life are love, faith, hope, and other like these.
The boxes under the influence of death are hate, anger, depression, pride and other like these.

We are born with particular boxes closer to us than others, depending on the spiritual inheritance we have from our parents / ancestors, and on the environment around us.
With every little choice we make, we trigger our attitudes and traits that build our character for life or death.

Every single box is an entire world by itself. The more we spend time rummaging in it, the more life or death imprints its power inside us, making us more sensitive to the same pattern.
Our habits sprout their roots in us into one of these two, life or death. One of these two gets stronger than the other. The desolation is that even though we want to do good, the bad is stuck to us.
“For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. … So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in my sinful nature a slave to the law of sin.” Romans 7

There is only one way to switch from accessing the boxes of death. That’s Jesus Christ.
When / if we are sick and tired of the same path of depression, anger, broken relationships and other things like these, one simple call is enough.
Jesus. He is near.

I Asked for an Angel

angel-tree-800pxThere were two weeks now since we started to remodel the house here where we live. You can imagine the mountain of old carpet and floor linoleum that had piled up in the garage for the day when the special garbage truck was scheduled to pick it up. Many other useless items joined the party, pieces of furniture, sinks, toilets and old tiles.

I called the company again to add those things on their list and they planned our big day before Christmas. Meanwhile we barely could open the garage door from so much stuff.

The evening before the pick up day we put all the junk by the curb and at the end of our driveway. Next day at 7 o’clock in the morning I was waiting for the truck on the porch. The big vehicle stopped in the front of the house, blocking our narrow street. I went to talk to the driver and saw him scratching his head.

“Sorry, Ma’am, but I can’t take what you have here.”

My whole world shook.


“Because you have too much stuff. I have a list here with the items I’m supposed to pick up. A couch , a love-seat, carpet,” and he continued with the list I had given to his dispatcher.

I stretched my arm and showed him the pile. “Everything is here.”

He wasn’t convinced and kept staring at the hill.” I can’t do this by myself.”

“I will help you.”

He shook his head. “I have to call my office.”

While he was talking, I was praying. “Lord, make a miracle and have this company take all of this. And Lord, send an angel to help us.”

It was early in the morning and nobody I knew was passing by and willing to start their day with loading a truck with our garbage.

Keeping my eyes on the sky and continuing to pray, I saw the sun making its way through the clouds on top of our next-door neighbor’s  house. The driver was still on the phone, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. “Lord, help us with this and send us an angel.”

The driver opened the door and jumped down without a word. He grabbed one trash bag and threw it in the loading attachment. I did the same.

There was a noise on the road down the street from the opposite direction and I saw our regular garbage truck coming. The nice guy I knew stopped the car and came out. I couldn’t believe it. We always had a little chat when he stopped by the house to unload our trash bins every week. I remembered I gave him some of my children’s books last Christmas. When I baked breads, I made sure he got a loaf.

He greeted us with a smile. “Good morning!”

“Good morning! Are you here to help us?” I asked when I saw him picking up one of our trash bags.


I couldn’t believe it, even though I asked God for help.

“I had prayed for an angel to come and help us, and here you are.” I said. “You are that angel.”

He laughed and continued loading the machine.

It took a while for all the junk to fit in the back of the truck, but I was praising God in my heart. Before leaving, I took out the two homemade French breads I had in the freezer and gave them to the men.

“You two were incredible. Thank you!”




A Tale in a Store

applesSuch a beautiful morning to drive to my favorite store. Got out of the vehicle and held my pants with one hand while pushed the door with the free one. So what if the guy parked next to me spilled his coffee while watching? Is it forbidden to wear your jeans even though they were made for the Barbie-dolls-kind-of-princesses?

Lifted my head high with confidence and walked to the sidewalk carrying my bags. I am one of the 48% of the Californians who voted to keep the plastic bags in place. But who cared? Since my own flesh and blood voted for a clean environment.
Never mind.

Stepped in the store and remembered my Black Friday shopping approach. As some of you already read about it, that went well.
I’m looking for persimmons. And just in case they don’t have them, I’m ready to lower my standards and get a few apples.
Then this guy catches my eye. Tall, in his eighties, wearing an old model preacher-kind-of suit, no tie, but clean and melancholic, we cross our paths for a few times. He reminds me of my grandfather in his church clothes. Grandma even buried him in them.

I can’t find persimmons. Get apples and stand in the line at the only open register. The man who is checking out is the spiffy one.
An elderly woman in her late seventies is between us. We both wear the same kind of jeans.
The man and the cashier talk about the cold weather and soon after he is on his way out.
“Such a gentleman in a suit.” the lady can’t help herself and continues, “This is so rare these days.”
The cashier picks up the idea.
“Oh, yes, he looks so well put together.”
The shopper is still in awe. “I like a man who knows how to wear a good outfit. I bet he opens the door for a woman.”
She finally leaves.

When I get out, I can see her walking through the parking lot and searching the perimeter with her eyes. Maybe he is still there.
This is what a grocery store can do to a woman.