On Tuesday....

Coming Tuesday, September 1, 2015, is my next short story, Samah Ronit. It will be on Amazon.

The cover is on the left of  your screen.  For some reason, I couldn't get my cover to download onto blogger.

Below is the blurb.

Sometimes God allows things to blow up in our faces to get their attention. It’s His way of giving us second chances.

Annabelle and Mary are a mother and daughter at odds.

Mary has her and her husband’s reputations to protect. And her sixteen-year-old daughter’s pregnancy may destroy that. A window of opportunity has opened for her to take care of the issue while he is away at a conference. A quick abortion should take care of it. Or will it?

Annabelle is praying otherwise while half-heartedly going along with the plan.

Will God answer her prayers?

Hope to be back on Thursday with another excerpt from The Immoral. Last Thursday, I had daughter fires to put out.

Hugs and chocolate,
Shelly

Conspiracy Theories: Margret Sanger

Today, I thought I'd share pro-abortionist and Eugenicist, Margret Sanger quotes. She had the perfect plan to implement how to depopulate the earth from those with corrupt genes and skin color.

And you know what? We have all been duped and have fallen for the deception.

We have all been socially engineered to accept the murder of a baby to be okay. But is it? Seriously?

Read these quotes and then think about what is going on in our country. Really, really think hard and good. Contemplate like where are abortion clinics set up. I know. But I want to see if you know and if you can connect the dots yourself.

Margret Sanger saw abortion as an act of mercy, "The most merciful thing that a huge family does to one of its infant members is to kill it".

Her act of mercy was against Afro-Americans and the poor. She saw them as the scum of the earth with bad genes.

This is the purpose of legalized abortions. Women's' issues for choice were exploited to help plug safe and legal abortion clinics into our society as good and acceptable.

But look where this choice has led us ...

I, for one used to accept first term abortion as plausible. But the truth is we have and are allowing babies, whether 2 days old or 40 weeks old, to be killed. God knew them before He knit them together in the womb. The Bible says so. And I'm pretty sure that His intentions for them were to have some kind of a life.

I know most unwanted pregnancies happen out of wedlock. Drug addicts and alcoholics carelessly get pregnant. I know all of these things. And I know a lot of you reading this are saying that an abortion is an act of mercy under such circumstances. I have 2 daughters who get pregnant easily who use drugs and it breaks my heart. But people who wanted babies have opened their hearts and homes to them...my grandbabies.

I just look around and I can't help but wander what we've done ... what we've allowed.

Anyway....

Woman and the New Race, ch. 6: “The Wickedness of Creating Large Families.”

[We should] apply a stern and rigid policy of sterilization and segregation to that grade of population whose progeny is tainted, or whose inheritance is such that objectionable traits may be transmitted to offspring

“Plan for Peace” from Birth Control Review (April 1932, pp. 107-108

Article 1. The purpose of the American Baby Code shall be to provide for a better distribution of babies… and to protect society against the propagation and increase of the unfit.
Article 4. No woman shall have the legal right to bear a child, and no man shall have the right to become a father, without a permit…
Article 6. No permit for parenthood shall be valid for more than one birth.

“America Needs a Code for Babies,” 27 Mar 1934

Give dysgenic groups [people with “bad genes”] in our population their choice of segregation or [compulsory] sterilization.

April 1932 Birth Control Review, pg. 108

Birth control must lead ultimately to a cleaner race.

Woman, Morality, and Birth Control. New York: New York Publishing Company, 1922. Page 12.

We should hire three or four colored ministers, preferably with social-service backgrounds, and with engaging personalities.  The most successful educational approach to the Negro is through a religious appeal. We don’t want the word to go out that we want to exterminate the Negro population, and the minister is the man who can straighten out that idea if it ever occurs to any of their more rebellious members.

If you leave a comment keep it nice, to the point, and no name calling, please.

Hugs and chocolate,

Shelly

An On-line Novel: The Immoral- The Hangman

I'm finally getting my mojo back for blogging and writing. Yay! Here's another chapter from my on-line novel.

THE HANGMAN

Someone cleared their throat off to Cassandra’s right. After, loose change clanked together.

Cassandra swung her head in the direction of the noise. A man stood in the doorway to the classroom, peering over his black rimmed glasses. They had slid halfway down his nose. She hadn’t met him before. The day her and her mom came for open house, the home room teacher was out sick. It had to be him. He looked more like a military man though. His pure white shirt and black trousers had absolutely no wrinkles.

The rowdy teens suddenly went silent and plopped in the desks around her and her BFF. All went sullen-faced.

“Good morning, class,” the man said, strutting to the podium in front of the desk. “I see we’re up to our same antics, Mr. Gruber.” He cast a gaze over his shoulder and grabbed onto each side of the lectern.

The greasy-haired boy at the chalkboard lowered his head and rushed around the teacher’s giant desk to the one directly behind Cassandra. He plopped loudly into the seat.

“Miss Wadsworth, please go to your desk before I decide to write you a warning.” He smoothed back his grey clipper cut. The short hairs on the top of his head stood straight up.

The girl standing in front of Ronald tugged at her skirt and hurried to the back of the room.

“I see we haven’t grown up much over the summer.” His dark, beady eyes went from left to right stopping at Cassandra. He tapped his chin and then glanced down. “You are new. Miss̶̶ .”

“Cassandra Berg. My friends call me Sassie.”

The girls behind her, snickered.

The teacher’s lips flat-lined, and he cocked his left bushy brow as he shot a look passed Cassandra. “One more time, ladies, and you can visit Mr. Ray today. I’m sure he would be pleased to see all of you.” He let go of the stand and straightened, shifting his glance back on Cassandra. “Miss Berg.” He nodded and shifted his eyes toward Ronald. “And you, sir?”

“Ronald Fisher, sir.”

“In my class, you will be known and called by your last name. I am not your friend. I am your instructor.” Saliva webbed around the corners of his mouth as he spoke.

The kid behind Cassandra tapped her shoulder and whispered, “That’s why we call him the hangman.”

“Mr. Gruber, do you have something to share with the class?” the teacher said.

“Um, no, sir.”

“Good. Then let’s get on with me introducing myself.” He made his way around the desk toward the blackboard and picked up a felt eraser. There, he stood with his back to the class as he studied the hangman before erasing it. “My name is Haggerman.” He plucked a piece of chalk from the board's silver tray and scribbled out M-r-.-H-a-g-g-e-r-m-a-n. After, he faced the class.

An intercom hanging on the wall above Ronald buzzed. “Mr. Haggerman?” a woman’s voice said.

“Yes.”

“You’re wanted in Mr. Ray’s office immediately.”

“Let me get my students squared away first.”

“Okay. I’ll let him know.”

Mr. Haggerman set his gaze on Cassandra. “Ms. Berg, I have job for you.”

Cassandra rolled her shoulders back. She couldn’t imagine what he wanted.

He marched toward her with a legal pad and pen in hand. “I’m making you the class monitor. I want you to write down the names of those who talk and get out of their seats.” He handed her the items.

She took them reluctantly. This wasn’t going to be good. Why couldn’t he have picked Ronnie? Or someone else? Why me?

“Can you handle this, Miss Berg?”

“Yes, sir.” She didn’t have the guts to tell him otherwise.

“Good. I know you won’t disappoint me. You have an honest face,” he said, lifting his chin. He slid his right hand into his pant pocket and jingled his loose change again. “And for the rest of you, I want you to take out your Bibles and hand copy Psalm twenty-three, three times over. That should keep you busy until I return.” After, he spun on his heels and hurried out of the classroom door hooking to the right down the hallway.

One of the girls in the back let out a loud cackle, “Hangman’s got a pet piggy!”

Shelly Arkon © 2015

Shaking My Fists at God Almighty

Last week, I posted a thought that got some special remarks. I notice some are very angry with God. I used to be, too.

Let me explain...

Once upon a time, this girl was raised by crazy. Insanity is part of my DNA. If it weren't for my stepfather, I'm not so sure where my sibs and I would've ended up. Probably a foster home. My mom would forget about us. Sometimes we weren't picked up until 11 at night after school. Dinner might be served at 1 in the morning. Sometimes she couldn't get herself out of bed to get us to school on time. Sometimes she couldn't sleep. And a lot of times we got whacked for no reason at all.

The majority of the time when she was awake, she spent it dividing and tearing her family apart. So many lies were told that I'm not really sure what is true and what is not, even now as an adult. I have to piece things together. My mother is someone who suffers from Bi-Polar disorder and is a pathological liar. Thank God, she wasn't a serial killer. She hurt all of us. My dad. My stepdad. Me. My sister. My brother. Even my kids.

I tried to control her. But I couldn't. Not even as an adult.

As a pre-teen and teen, I was bullied all through my tenure at a Christian school. No matter how hard I tried to laugh along with the insults, I was dying inside. And it didn't help that I had to come home to crazy everyday. Depression ruled my teenage years. A bag of Keebler's Pecan Sandies and a half gallon  of ice cream was my remedy. Eating everything I could get my hands on filled the void. I felt God never heard my prayers for relief and didn't understand why. Maybe I deserved this punishment.

At 18, I got married to someone 7 years older than myself. He and his holy-rolling family had a secret. He was a hardcore drug addict. Something I thought only happened in the movies. Domestic violence and 12 step-meetings riddled my life, along with back and forth scenarios to him and getting involved with yet another abusive man. Three children later, I made my break. But not without DCF waltzing into my life temporarily and making no case. All the while my mom poured salt into my wounds. There was a war between her and the mother-in-law. There was a score to settle.

Crazy surrounded me. The mother-in-law blamed my mom's insanity for the reason why her son was the way he was and for the fall of our marriage.

During this time, I questioned God. How could he let me marry someone like that? Why would God allow children to be born into a situation like this? Why? It didn't make sense that a loving God would allow such things. Why did I have to have the mother I had? Why would God do this to me? It wasn't fair. Was it? And why would another set of parents allow a young girl to marry their drug addicted son? They were Christians. What were they thinking?

When daughter number 3 was a year old, I married the younger 2  daughter's dad (I have 5 daughters in all). My mom decided she didn't like him and made our lives miserable. Her nose poked around in everything. More lies were told. She was hell bent to settle scores with the first hubby and his mom, and  then the second. Her lies became more convincing and more out of control. No matter what I did, I had no way of making her stop. I felt like a helpless little child.

Why God? Why would You allow this? It's not fair. It's not right. What did I do to deserve all of this?

Mom's lies snowballed myself, my daughters ... all of us at the mercy of the dependency courts. For 2 years, I wasn't allowed to have daughter number 2 and 3 in my care. They went to the holy-rollers and their drug-addicted son because of a lie my mother told. But I could keep the older child and the younger ones.

The 2 grandmothers were settling their scores by slinging mud. And I was the scapegoat. I'll never forget the day, my mother called. After I said hello, I got an earful of laughter, "They think it was you that made up a the lie. It was me. It's because of me you lost No-No and E-wee."

Why God? Why would you allow this?

When the state-hired-shrink had figure it all out and apologized for his misdiagnosis, it was too late. The damage was done to my character and I had to jump through rings of fire to get my kids back.

Why God? Why are you so hateful to me?

When my 2 daughters were returned to my care, my then hubby called me up in the middle of the night. "I'm not having fun. I'm not coming home anymore." For two years, he was seeing someone else right under my nose. He even started drinking heavy.

Why God? Why would you leave me to fend for 5 children on my own? Why?

I had to work 3 part-time jobs while I put myself through college. We were hungry most of the time. My family. The dads and their families, not even the state...not one of them helped me out. It was as if they wanted me to fail. Maybe they did.

Child support was and is a joke. If a man or woman doesn't have it in their heart to pay, it doesn't matter what you have done to them. It's a pure waste of time.

Why God?

I wrote a program called A Parent's Advocate, and worked it under a parenting program in Manatee County. "I'm going to take your program from you,' I was told. I worked it for 2 years. There are wolves in the child welfare system. It's not really about helping children and families at all.

Why God? Why?

After this, I wanted nothing to do with God. I felt that He had stolen precious years away from me being a mom. I can't express to any of you, how much I loved being a mommy. I always wanted to show my kids how much I loved them and that they were important, and that adults could apologize when they were wrong. I wanted to make special memories. I wanted a home of sanity and peace. But it was stolen from me for no damn good reason along with my knight in shining armor. I absolutely adored my younger daughter's father.

I was one angry white chick!

I sought every religion outside of Christianity for an answer. It was then I discovered a group of ladies who had psychic abilities. I had some, too. But it never answered my questions as to why bad things happen to nice, good people in general.

It's weird how our past haunts us through our adult children.

A couple of years ago, I had to take in daughter number 4's son. She struggles with drug addiction as does daughter number 3. When I had to take him in for the second time and battle DCF yet again, I cried 'uncle to God' so to speak. And I asked Him 'why?'

And a still. small voice answered me back, "A lot had to do with all the decisions that were made."

God is a gentleman. He won't step on anyone's toes to get them to do His will. He wants us to operate under free will. This includes how we react to hunger in the world, war, the widows, the elderly, the sick, to our outside environment, to the animals...He created a system and when we go against it whether deliberately or naively, the consequences can be dire.

But what about mental illness? Forgive and let go. I believe a lot of mental illness has to do with the ability to forgive or not. For many years after all the abuse from family members and DCF, I suffered from PSTD on steroids. Things crippled my insides, including my daughters' drug habits. It has helped cause me GERD and a twisted bowel.

You have every reason in the world to hate God, you might say. Oh but I did and all those confessing to be good Christians (YES. SOME ARE THE BIGGEST HYPOCRITES...EVER). Came across a few of those while I was being struck down.

But anyway, I don't anymore. After I read the Bible through once (going on my third time through) I realized and understood that His 2 greatest commandments were to love Him with all our hearts and to love our neighbors as ourselves and this means no matter what. And if we could actually do these two things, everything would fall into place. No more war. No more hunger. No more environmental issues. No more mental illness. No more drugs. No more alcoholism. No more greed. NO MORE CRAP!

And that Yeshua lived this example for us. He laid down His human life for us all. I get it now. I hope all of you get it. That's my prayer.

Hugs and chocolate,
Shelly

PS Will be back Thursday with another excerpt from my on-line novel, The Immoral.

A Thought

If we seek to survive outside of the will of God, we usually do it through selfish means.

What do you think?

Finally ... Well, Sort Of

Got a new phone. A Samsung Galaxy 5. I like it. But I'm still learning how it works. Finally figured out how to post my blogs. Yay!

Anyway, this past Saturday, I downloaded Windows 10. I lost my cursor. Aw man! I've been going nuts trying to find a remedy.

After, pushing a bunch of different keys, I got a box telling me that my computer is fixing my cursor problem. But I need to press 'okay' and have nothing to do it with. OY VEY!

And yes, I've pushed 'enter' and the arrow keys. Got me nada.

So I'm waiting to see if anything happened while I'm at work.

I really need to get back to my regular schedule of doing things. I also need to figure out how to access the blogs that I follow from my new phone.

What's everyone else up to?

Hugs and chocolate, all,
Shelly