Buzz Bernard, author of EYEWALL, PLAGUE and SUPERCELL, will be doing a book signing (along with several other local authors) August 3^{rd @} Mansell Crossing B & N 7660 Northpoint Parkway, Ste 200, Alpharetta, GA 30022, 770-993-8340 Quick directions North of Mansell Road next to the AMC movie theater. http://store-locator.barnesandnoble.com/store/1955?cat=AAA&subtype=detailList

God wants you to know that love is the center and the core of everything, and that Self is the place where all love must begin. Those who love others grandly are those who love themselves grandly. Those who have a high toleration and acceptance of others are those who have a high toleration and acceptance of themselves.

You cannot show another a part of you that you cannot show yourself. Therefore, begin where all
growth, where all evolution, where all love must begin: with the person in the mirror. Will you not love yourself grandly today? For the world’s sake? www.CWGPortal.com

God wants you to know that food was never intended to be used as fun. Food was intended to be used as nourishment.

When you use food as fun, your body has no fun at all. It works harder, and it ultimately can’t fight off the effects of mistreatment. It carries more weight, which puts more strain on your heart. Its arteries get clogged, which does the same.

You could, of course, define fun another way. You could decide that “fun” is being healthy and happy. But you might have to change your whole idea about food. www.CWGPortal.com

Words from Pep

Song of songs

Like a wave washing over sand, notes splashed through the forest around me. After a momentary silence, again they came, clear and pure, filling my ears with song. Here was a celebration of life not to be denied. I zeroed in on the source. There! A silhouette against the sky arching his neck upward, opening his mouth to declare, “I am! I am! I delight that I am!” His maple perch had been transformed to a dais of jubilation and from it with unreserved glee poured his existence. “I am! I am! I delight that I am!” he proclaimed to the world. From a distant part of the woods came the warble of another, an aria as filled with life as this Pavarotti above me. Then to my surprise a third, perhaps Carreras or Bocelli, completed the trio of praise. I stood silently, closed my eyes and imagined even the Great Composer caught up in the joyful song of these lives. Glorious singing rolled through the air and rose to the attention of angels. Standing there in the eternal now of that moment they lifted the essence of my being in praise as well. “I am! I am! I delight that I am!” was drawn from my heart. I pressed my forehead against the maple feeling it’s life, enjoying this glorious thankfulness and the concord of our hearts. With that our quartet sensed another voice rising around us. “You are! You Are! I delight that you are!” It was the voice of Creator singing over His work. He, we, all our relations, distinct yet one choir in concert with the harmony of existence. Today, now, sing the hymn, “I am! You are! We are, He delights in His Creation!” Let your tongue join the refrain, your ears hear the melody and dignity of all His work. This is the song of God. www.theteacherwithin.com

—
ONE WORLD –  ONE FAMILY OF MAN  –  ONE CREATOR OF ALL

I have wheelchairs, crutches, walkers, and a portable potty I would like to donate. If anyone needs this in the Dallas, Texas area, it is yours. Like new. Please contact Jeanie Loiacono
CEO/President
Loiacono Literary Agency, LLC
448 Lacebark Dr.
Irving, Texas 75063
912-230-2207
jeanie.loiacono@loiaconoliteraryagency.com
www.loiaconoliteraryagency.com

I believe God wants you to know that mastery is not measured by the number of terrible
things you eliminate from your life, but by the number of times you eliminate calling them terrible.

The Buddha brought suffering onto himself, to look into the face of it, to see if he was that, and, if not, to see who he then was. Jesus allowed himself to be crucified, to demonstrate who he was. And what do you think you are doing here?

Why bother with this relative world if not to know yourself in your own experience? And how else to do that except through the encountering of that which you are not?www.CWGPortal.com

The Weakly Post Bud Hearn July 3, 2014

Spirit of Rebellion

The War of Independence was an unfair matchup. England, population 6.4 million, versus The Colonies, about 2.5 million farmers and colonists. No Las Vegas bookie would have taken that bet. But God did.

There’s a rebellious streak in youth. It’s a natural tendency. They’re born to despise authority, to abhor rules, to kick back at every provocation that seeks to restrict their sense of freedom. If you don’t believe this, adopt a teenager.

The young are revolutionists, seditionists. Innovation is their magic carpet. They detest normalcy. Their minds have not yet crossed the threshold of Concession or Impossibility. Things are black or white, no gray. It’s blood and guts, not cookies and tea.

Youth has something to prove, and they’re restless until they do. They’re impervious to danger, eat it like nail soup. They spit in the face of death and dare it to complain. Change is a quick snack they have for breakfast.

Old men don’t dig trenches. They don’t wage wars in the dust, the heat, the cold, the mud and the blood. It’s viewed at safe distances with smarmy handlers, catered meals and corporate sponsors. Their empty platitudes are masks of insincerity at the gravesites of patriotism.

Strategy and political maneuvering are their amusements. Their spirit of conflict is overcome by their pacifistic urge to compromise with status quo. They conduct closed-door conferences and schemes of international intrigue. The globe is their chess board. Youth are their pawns. Don’t rock their boats.

Is America becoming soft by compromise, anesthetized by wealth, obese by inaction? Is it content with the noose of unearned entitlements? Or acquiesce of personal independence squeezed out by a greedy central government? Is it happy with the constraints imposed by a bloated bureaucracy? Where’s the spirit of rebellion today? Where are the protesters?

America was conceived as a nation of rebels. Like youth itself, it was a wild, unexplored country, full of promise, privation and possibility. Its future was unknown, untapped and untried.

The bones of its skeleton are nationalistic, its flesh the principal of charity, its breath the soul of freedom. God spoke the words once again unto its chaos, “Son of man, can these bones live?” They did, and in 1776 America was born. It has remained a mighty nation for 238 years.

America thrives on a cult of perpetual youth. The quest for the Fountain of Youth ended in 1513 in what’s now St. Augustine, Florida, the oldest city in America. Ponce de Leon had a vision, but it was 263 years early.  Today the spirit of that vision is alive and well.

America’s is not planted in concrete. It’s sleepless, ever inventive, always transformative. It runs, not walks. Enough is never enough. Perfection is just another milestone to something better. The culture of constant rebirth boils in the national spirit. Caste finds no home here.

How is this possible? America’s freedom was not born of a religious fanaticism. Nor by slick, sugar-coated words of doctrine that rolled off the tongues of politicians. Freedom comes at the expense of blood, not vowels.  The blood of Colonial Patriots still cries from the earth, “Remember, remember, remember!” This is what we celebrate on Independence Day.

America was a dream.  Dreams are ephemeral. They vanish easily at daylight. Dreams need nurture. The visions are gifts that need to be stirred up regularly. Like the grit of discontent, it impels us to action.

Tomorrow we will again celebrate Independence Day with parades and egalitarian events nationwide. We will for a day reignite the Spirit of Freedom that thrives in our nation. We will eat 150 million hot dogs and the words ‘lily-livered’ and ‘yellow belly’ will not be uttered.

Overhead fireworks will burst everywhere. Like the bursts of muskets and cannons, may each one remind us of the sacrifices that were made by the Patriots.

America’s future of freedom will continue to be earned by the sacrifice of patriots who possess faith in the heart, freedom in the soul and fire in the belly.  May our Spirit of Rebellion always remain alive, ready, willing and able.

Loiacono Literary Agency welcomes Jeanne Charters and her novel Shanty Gold!

Shanty Gold, a story strength and perseverance.

In 1849’s famine-ravaged Ireland, thirteen-year-old Mary Boland is found lying mostly dead on the side of the road to Cork Harbor, Queenstown, Ireland. She just buried her mother and baby sister after they both died of starvation. Now she is headed for Boston to find her father— no matter what.

Raped and beaten by the motley crew of The Pilgrim’s Dandy, she is rescued by a fifteen-year-old Negro slave who had been used in like manner for some time and had vowed to throw himself to the sharks that very night. Together they survive the harrowing two and a half month trip, helping others as well. Their friendship is the key to the new world for both of them, carrying them through hardships and trials, and eventually to happiness.

A grand tale that is truer than we would like, yet spurs us to endeavor what people consider the impossible.

After years of working in radio sales and raising four daughters, Charters became VP of marketing for Viacom TV, then branched-off and opened her own advertising agency, Charters Marketing, with her husband, Matt. “He’s the business brain, I’m the creative one.”

The writing bug had bitten a long time ago, but its effects stayed hidden until it was time.

“People sometimes wonder where a character comes from. “When did you think up Mary Boland anyway?” I don’t know about all authors, but for me, Mary Boland was a magical name I heard through my childhood from my mother and aunts. She was my great-great-grandmother. There were no pictures of her and no records of her accomplishments, but she came to me in dreams…a young girl with curly red hair, riding her horse along the Irish seacoast.

“Tell my story,” she whispered.

In her first iteration, she was the start of a novel called Daughters of Famine, Mary was the first in four generations of women. Writing class instructors and published authors alike told me, “Each of these women deserves her own book.” They were right. So, I started over and told Mary’s story in Shanty Gold. The next woman’s story is half written and will be called Lace Curtain.”

Publishing Credits and Awards

WNC Woman magazine and website. Jeanne Charters’ columns under the title, funny, isn’t it? have appeared in most issues for the past twelve years.

Clothes Lines: A compilation of women’s writings from across the state and country. Jeanne Charters was honored to be included by Editors Celia H. Miles and Nancy Dillingham.

Funny, isn’t it? Ms. Charters’ book of some of her best columns, illustrated by noted North Carolina artist, Marie Hudson, of Asheville, NC.

Broadcasting: Adopt an Angel for Make-A-Wish…This campaign ran in markets from New York City to Hawaii for seventeen years. Ms. Charters was the sole writer, producer, and director of all television and radio commercials and PSA’s relative to it. Over three million dollars was raised to benefit children with life-threatening illnesses.

Awards: Adopt an Angel for Make-A-Wish…Telly, two consecutive years and the Gold Medal from the New York State Broadcasters Association for Best Public Service Campaign in the state of New York.

www.jeannecharters.com  www.loiaconoliteraryagency.com

God wants you to know that “Why?” is the most useless question in the universe.
The only question with any meaning is “What?”
Asking “Why is this happening?” can only disempower you. Asking “What do I want to make of this?”
does exactly the opposite.
Here is a great secret: the Why of anything is to produce the What of everything. www.CWGPortal.com