Wednesday, February 28, 2007

My Cousin ties her laces Again...

Alia is my incredible cousin with a heart for those with Cancer,
a memory of her Grandmother, and a love to run...........

Hello Everyone,

I, again, have signed up to fundraise for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society as a participant of Team in Training ( while I train for the Mayor's Marathon which will take place on June 23rd in Anchorage, Alaska. I gave myself a goal of $5000 last time and exceeded it thanks to the generosity of MANY donors. This time I plan to raise at least $6000. 75% of every dollar received will go towards research to treat and one day cure Leukemia, Lymphoma and Myeloma, as well as family and patient aid while living with blood cancer every day. The other 25% goes towards funding the program and my travel and board in Alaska during the marathon weekend.

I will be training and completing my second marathon in memory of my grandmother Mama T, who my family lost last September to metastasized uterine cancer. It was a very difficult and long journey and I do not wish that struggle on anyone, no matter what type of cancer they are fighting.

Please help me help others. If you cannot donate, cheers and encouragement are just as welcome.
All donations are tax-deductible. Many companies have a gift matching program, please check if yours is one of them. You can donate online at my personal website, or mail me cash or a check made out to "LLS" to my address
314 W Micheltorena St, Apt 15,
Santa Barbara, CA, 93101

Thank you all for taking the time to read this. I appreciate any and all support I receive.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Smallest preemie ever goes home...

A baby said by doctors to have been the most premature ever born will finally leave hospital today.

Sonja Taylor with baby Amillia: Tiny miracle is 'most premature baby ever'
Sonja Taylor with her 'miracle' baby Amillia

Amillia Taylor was delivered after less than 22 weeks in the womb, far less than a full 37 to 40-week pregnancy, and weighed just 10 ounces (284 grams). She was less than 10 inches long and medics gave her litte chance of survival.

Amillia, who was conceived by IVF, had trouble breathing and suffered a mild brain haemorrhage and digestive problems.

Her mother Sonja Taylor was not allowed to hold her for more than six weeks after she was born last October.

But her health has now improved after spending almost four months in an incubator and receiving oxygen at a neo-natal intensive care unit at Baptist Children’s Hospital in Florida, USA.

And today Amillia, which means resilient in Latin, is due to leave hospital for the first time and go home with her parents.

"We weren’t too optimistic, but she proved us all wrong," said Dr. William Smalling, who called her survival a "miracle".

"She’s going to be in a normal crib, she’s going to have normal feedings, she’s taking all her feedings from a bottle."

The University of Iowa, which keeps track of premature babies born around the world, believes she is the first baby ever to have survived after a gestation period of less than 23 weeks.

But Amillia still only weighs 4lb 60z (less than 2kg) and still needs extra oxygen and asthma medication.

Monday, February 19, 2007



You never know when God is going to bless you!! Good things happen when you least expect them to!!!!!!!!

Dear Lord, I thank You for this day. I thank You for my being able to see and to hear this morning. I'm blessed because You are a forgiving God and an understanding God. You have done so much for me and You keep on
blessing me. Forgive me this day for everything I have done, said or thought that was not pleasing to you.

I ask now for Your forgiveness. Please keep me safe from all danger and harm. Help me to start this day with a new attitude and plenty of gratitude. Let me make the best of each and every day to clear my mind so that I can hear from You. Please broaden my mind that I can accept all things. Let me not whine and whimper over things I have no control. I know that when I can't pray, You listen to my heart. Continue to use me to do Your will. Continue to bless me that I may be a blessing to others. Keep me strong that I may help the weak... Keep me uplifted that I may have words of encouragement for others. I pray for those that are lost and can't find their way. I pray for those that are misjudged and who don't know You intimately. I pray for those that will delete this
without sharing it with others. I pray for those that don't believe.

But I thank you that I believe. I believe that God changes people and God changes things. I pray for all my sisters and brothers. For each and every family member in their households. I pray for peace, love and joy in
their homes that they are out of debt and all their needs are met. I pray that every eye that reads this knows there is no problem, circumstance, or situation greater than God. Every battle is in Your hands for You to
fight. I pray that these words be received into the hearts of every eye that sees it.

Just repeat this phrase and see how God moves!

God, I love you and I need you. Come into my heart, please. AMEN...

walk in celebration of Matilyn`s life

Every year, millions of babies are born prematurely and with birth defects like gastroschisis. We walk in celebration of Matilyn`s life and in support of the research that could find a cure for prematurity and birth defects. Please join us and know that every dollar counts and helps bring the cure a little closer. Our mission is to improve the health of babies by preventing birth defects, premature birth, and infant mortality.

That is why I am asking you to support me in March of Dimes WalkAmerica. Because premature birth can happen to any pregnant woman. In nearly half the cases, the causes of prematurity and birth defects are unknown, as was the cause for Matilyn`s gastroschisis. The March of Dimes is leading the way to find answers by supporting research into these causes. I am joining the fight, and so can you.

Your support helps fund:
-Research into stress and other factors that may trigger preterm labor.
-Programs to educate pregnant women to recognize the warning signs of preterm labor.
-Tools to help health care providers find better ways to detect women who may be at risk for preterm labor.

Please join in and help fight prematurity and birth defects. Visit my webpage and sponsor me in the Walk that saves babies!

Thank You!
My personal web page address for donations is ...

Would you like to see what WalkAmerica is and why I’m walking?
Click the link to see the video.

The March of Dimes mission is to improve the health of babies by preventing birth defects, premature birth, and infant mortality.

Click Now to sponsor me for WalkAmerica!

Friday, February 16, 2007

The Room


17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," he later told his father, Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote.." It also was the last.

Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teary Valley High School. Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them-notes from classmates and teachers, his homework.

Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life.. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. "It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there." Mr. Moore said.

Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.

The Moores framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him."

Brian's Essay: The Room...

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.

Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.

I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it.. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.

No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.

He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.

He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room.. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."-Phil. 4:13 "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." If you feel the same way forward it so the love of Jesus will touch their lives also. My "People I shared the gospel with" file just got bigger, how about yours?