Update On My Health: The Love of the Father Produces Divine Health

It's been about two months since my stroke, transient ischemic attack, and the attending health issues which had accompanied this crazy spell.

The most frustrating aspect of it all occured two days after I had the stroke. I thought that the medical issues, the medicine issues, had all been taken care of. Then, Sunday morning, 12:30am to be precise, I felt numbness along the left side of my body as well as urinary pain.

I went to the nearest emergency room, where I waited for five hours before a bed was finally freed up for me. Then I received a new medication, then I was shipped back to Kaiser a second time. I was really unhappy. I just didn't want to have doctors shooting in the dark giving me another medication, trying this one or that one in their best efforts to get my blood pressure under control.

UGH!

Thankfully, from June 10, 2019 onward, my health steadily improved.

I had already changed my diet drastically after the May 30th physical, that physical in which my doctor announced: "I have never seen blood pressure numbers that high!" And the numbers only got higher after thirty minutes.

No more diet soda. No more soda at all. That was easy to do, especially because within one day, the tension headaches which I feared the most--never happened. I had a slight headache in the morning on May 31st, but after that, there as no long-term pain, no caffeine withdrawals. That was a miracle in itself.

Then I began changing my eating habits. I had to really think about what it would mean for me to see my weight decrease. At the May 30th physical, I weighed 232 lbs. The textbook weight for someone my size, 6 feet 3 inches, is 200 pounds.

From that day forward, I resolved to make my meals as much as I could. My doctor also told me that consistent weight lost depended more on counting calories, and not just on exercise. That's a mistake which seems to catch a lot of people off guard. No matter how much exercise someone works into one's daily life, nothing facilitates weight loss like taking in fewer calories per day.

The fact is that I was eating too much, in that I did not need to eat as much as I was eating, From there, I just stayed away from fast food for good. One time, when I was really hunger, did I eat out, but even then I spread out the meal over three different meal periods.

When it comes to ensure weight loss, I just resolved to eat less.

Something deeper has taken place in my life, and thank Christ Jesus, for the deeper revelation of His love for me. That's what it really comes down to. It's not enough to change the outside. We need to let God change us on the inside.

This verse came up a number of times when I was pondering how I was going to get back into trimmer weight:

"Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him." (1 John 2:15)

Followed by:

"For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world." (1 John 2:16)

"Lust of the flesh" includes excessive drinking, eating, or any other perverse pursuit of pleasure.

I was eating food that tasted good, even when I was not hungry. I was drinking an excessive amount of diet soda, when there as no need for doing so.

What is the antidote to excessive eating, drinking, etc.? You need to let the love of the Father in? His love more than suffices. The more that I realized how much God as Father loved me, the less desire there was to eat sweets.

Pastor Prince offered a wonderful mini-sermon on dieting, too:

"Honor hunger" -- what a concept!

I had pretty much lost touch with what it means to feel hungry. Most people just eat because it's "Time to Eat." How about getting out of this mundane habit. Instead, let's eat because we are hungry.

"Honor feeling full." Another great concept. What does it feel like to know that you have eaten enough, and therefore don't have to eat anymore? Basic ideas, but worth getting in touch with.

These are the divine principles that have helped me to lose weight steadily, in a healthy fashion.

I weighed 232 lbs. on May 30th, the day of my physical. Today, I weight 209 lbs!

There are shorts and pants that I am wearing now that I could not wear for ten years. I have a suit, full jacket and slacks, that I was not able to wear for 15 years, but I am not able to wear. This is a great feeling!

As for my blood pressure, the numbers began to get steadily lower from June 10th, onward. The medications assigned to me were much more effective. One of the pills, Amlopadine, has a slow onset but lasts throughout the day. My BP numbers began to go down steadily. The other medication I take, Lizonpril and HCTZ, is a combination of two medications. Finally, the doctors working as a team were able to establish a solid medicine program.

I was also losing weight, and that helps lower blood pressure numbers, too. At one point, about a week after getting a solid, stable medicine regimen, I began feeling faint in the head from time to time. I would see white spots, and sometimes darker spots. On a Thursday, I tried to give blood at the local Red Cross in Torrance, and when they read my blood pressure, it came up 96/60!

That is really low! For someone my size, that's a little too low! The nurses on site suggested that I not give blood at this time, and I am glad they did. I ended up walking home that day, and I was so tired, to light-headed, I ended up resting the rest of the day.

Now that I was losing weight, now that I was taking meds, I faced the risk of having too low blood pressure! This was an going problem or me when I started exercising. I began jogging as well as walking, and after a rigorous one-hour routine, I would feel light-headed again!

This was too much. I contacted my doctor, and we arranged for me to have another appointment. When I met with him again, he was really impressed to see how much weight I was losing. He agreed that I should stop taking the Amlodapine, but just hold onto the remaining pills just in case my blood pressure started increasing again.

From that point on, I have continued losing the extra fat, eating only when I am hungry, and avoiding processed foods. As of now, I have had a consistently solid, healthy BP in 110-115/70-75 range.

Very good! Some mornings, I wake up with a diastolic pressure in the low to mid 60s, which is also really good!

So, how's my health? I am resting more in the love of my Father for me, and He has produced in me divine health. I no longer have a desire to run off and eat sweets. I have less and less of a taste for sugary foods. I have been eating more fruits and vegetables, and I have really acquired a taste for these and other natural foods, too.

I cannot tell you how many times I had struggled with my weight. I began praying to God for wisdom on how to deal with the extra weight on me for a long time. Finally, I submitted, willing to accept that I had to change what I was thinking, what I was believing. Now that I am lighter than I used to be, I enjoy running and walking more than I had before. The incentive of feeling lighter, fitting in more of clothes, outweighs whatever pleasure I got from eating sugary goods.

It feels so good to finally have lower weight across the board! It's even better to have a mind and heart that are transformed, so that the cravings internally are gone. It's no find to rely on your own strength. It's better to receive and keep receiving God's grace. Once the inside changes, then the outside can change without much effort.

I feel stronger and healthier now than I did when I was 28 years old. I weigh less now than I did in college, even in high school, since I was 6 feet 3 inches when I graduated my senior year, but I never weighed less than 220 lbs.

My health is doing well, but this health depended on a more important soul prosperity, which has been rolling in stronger than ever!

"Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth." (3 John 2)

Trump's First Step Act Helps Black Americans Incarcerated for Excessive Periods in Federal Prison

Trump Admin's Criminal Justice Reform 'Overwhelmingly' Helping Black Prisoners.

Democrats have been relentless in trying to paint the Trump administration as an unadulterated evil for African-Americans.

But a report released this month by the U.S. Sentencing Commission just made that job many, many times harder.

The report found that the First Step Act of 2018, a criminal sentencing reform bill passed by a Republican Congress and signed by Trump in December 2018, had benefited black prisoners incarcerated in the federal prison system in numbers far greater than other races.

* Only 4.3 percent of prisoners receiving reduced sentences have been white. More than 90 percent have been black. And more than 98 percent of them have been male.

Those numbers reflect cases processed through April 30, according to the report, so that’s the effect of the law after only four months in existence. And remember, this is an administration, that has overseen an economy that has brought the unemployment rate among black Americans to historic lows.

Now, black Americans are the main beneficiaries of a sentencing reform bill that was passed when Republicans held majorities in both houses of Congress and signed by a president whom liberals, Democrats and their propaganda arm in the mainstream media have spent years now vilifying as a “racist.”

The party that fought the Civil War to keep black Americans enslaved in the United States, then spent more than 100 years after that defending Jim Crow laws that enforced a very real kind of second-class citizenship for black people in the South, has been disgracefully successful at painting itself as the champion of civil rights for minorities for two generations now.

It’s a propaganda victory that couldn’t have happened without the complicity of a leftist education system, a dishonest media and, of course, the lies of the Democratic Party itself. However, the numbers don’t lie.

It was the Trump administration that helped spur the American economy in ways that have undeniably benefited black Americans.

It was a Republican Congress and Trump’s signature that enacted criminal sentencing reform that’s benefited black Americans in more than nine out of 10 cases where it’s been applied. And all the Democratic pandering and mainstream media caterwauling about “racism” can’t change that.

---Keith Hardine

* Source—Trump Admin's Criminal Justice Reform 'Overwhelmingly' Helping Black Prisoners.

https://www.westernjournal.com/ct/trump-admins-criminal-justice-reform-overwhelmingly-helping-black-prisoners/

Maureen, Teacher in Los Angeles County, Condemns Drag Queen Story Hour (And Why!)

Last night my friend confessed to me that her 9-year-old son is dressing up in drag! She told me this is a new behavior of his since she recently attended a neighborhood local library's, Drag Queen Story Hour. She continued to tell me that he used to like to play with Legos and build things. Now, he is questioning if he is a boy or girl. She is devastated. How many more children are out there confused about who they are after being exposed to the Drag Queen Story Hour?

I am a concerned parent. I have friends who are drag queens and members of the LGBTQ community as I use to be a model and actress living in Hollywood in my 20s. I met people from all walks of life. Never have I felt annoyed about alternative lifestyles until now. I have done a lot of soul searching about why I am now feeling upset with this community. On one hand, I empathize with their need to feel accepted in mainstream society. I get it. After years of bullying from others and feeling less than, they are fighting back, organizing, getting their message of “accept me for who I am” out there in the public sphere. On the the other hand, their message of, we need to "groom the next generation," as the drag queen, Joe Faragher, recently put it, is frightening, upsetting, and disturbing because it puts ideas into children's heads that they can't yet process or fully comprehend.

Children have lower executive functioning skills than adults. They think concretely or in black  and white. They are not able to discern for themselves about gender identity and what it truly means to be a man or woman, much less to be a man dressed up as a provocatively dressed  female. Do you think it's healthy for children to be exposed to this? To me, it really is a no-brainer and not a political question, it's plain psychology. 

I believe that purposefully confusing children about sexual identity, male and female gender roles, and unhealthy lifestyles is more of an agenda coming from the LGBTQ activist community to put ideas in children's heads that are destructive, not constructive.

So what's the solution? Should we allow drag queens to teach literacy in neighborhood libraries so they can normalize the drag queen lifestyle to make themselves feel better, or should we teach the social construct of tolerance to children by using healthy role models in society such as librarians and teachers who are credentialed to do so. Also, children need less complex tolerance curriculum in which to learn from, rather than drag queen curriculum. Maybe learning about Helen Keller would be a good starting point. The idea of teaching a child tolerance and love and acceptance should not jeopardize a child's capability of understanding themselves, just to make a drag queen feel better. Who is this really about anyway? 

https://www.mercurynews.com/2019/07/20/drag-queen-story-hour-draws-protests-in-el-segundo/

Drag Queen (Naked) Art for Kids? (Viewer Discretion Advised)

cc : @SafeLibraries @ShannonTracy123 https://t.co/CUxmTNn46M

— yvonneburton 🌈 🏳️‍🌈🇺🇸 (@_YvonneBurton) July 25, 2019

This is happening now.

In the name of tolerance and diversity, we have feminists exposing their naked bodies to children.

This is sexual harassment. This is child abuse.

This is evil. This is wrong

We have to put an end to this.

If anyone can give me information on what happened in this perverse photo, please contact me ASAP!

My email is arthur@massresistance.org

THANK YOU!

Convicted for Doing Nothing Wrong, Sentenced for No Reason, Yet Still Joyful with No Regrets -- Cal-Trans, The First Four Days

I dragged my feet the most on this aspect. Twenty days, 160 hours, I would have to work for Cal-Trans.

The outset of this was a bright spot. Every person assigned Cal-Trans in a court hearing has to go to a volunteer center located in the court house. The Volunteer Center in the Downey Courthouse is run by a lovely lady named Melba. From day one, she told me to take things easy, not to get too worked about anything.

She helped me process my first signing up.

The first four days, I just kicked and screamed internally. I simply did not want to be there. I had done nothing wrong, and now I was losing time.

The first four days really took a lot out of me too.

For those who want to know, the Cal-Trans yard for court "volunteeers" is located on Santa Fe Street on the border of Carson and Long Beach, just north of the 405 Freeway. It was easy to drive there from Torrance, so that was a plus.

The first day, I signed up in a shorter line. The first day was the toughest day, since there was so much that I would have to learn that first day.  The Cal-Trans guy running the sign-up sheets for everyone else was not the most talkative, definitely not the most informative.

Within five minutes of my showing up and signing in, he told me to go home for the day. Why? Because my shoes were not suitable.

"What? The training sheet that prepped me told me that my shoes needed to be sturdy. What's wrong with them?" They weren't work boots, and they didn't have the thick, rigid soles. So what? That's not my fault. I really didn't want to hold  back on getting busy with this effort, so I insisted, I then pointed to another guy, who had shoes that looked just like mine. Why was he allowed to work, but not me?

I won that little battle, if you will. The Cal-Trans guy relented, and I didn't have to go home.

The next thing also freaked me out. I had a paper, a log that would tally all the days that I worked at the Cal-Trans yard. I had to complete 20 days, 8 hours a day. I was told by my attorney and the volunteer coordinator Melba to keep a copy of the record.

When I gave my sheet to the Cal-Trans guy, he told me that I was not going to get it back. WHAT? I protested, because I explained to him what my attorney and the volunteer coordinator had shared with me. Why was I getting this mixed message? And forgive me or being untrusting and cynical, but after all that I had endured, incompetence and wrongdoing had become too much of a norm for me to ignore.

The guy would not relent about the paper, but he would check in with the Volunteer Center. I took him at his word, since I did not have a choice at that point. I look back at that exchange the first day, and I am glad that I had not lost any of my spunk. I was not going to be taken advantage of.

My first day at Cal-Trans, I had an easy going day. Really easy going, considering everything that I was expecting to come my way. Our van driver took us to a few minimarts while he gassed up the van.

We took extended breaks, too. The times of the day when we did work, we just picked up trash with pickers. During the breaks, I got to learn the stories of the other "criminals" with me in the field. Some of them wanted to fight their charges, but faced a lack of money, time, or other limitations, The first day on the Cal-Trans yard, I learned from one guy that he was assigned Cal-Trans because he didn't renew his dog's tags. Really! I learned later on that some cities will assign one day of Cal-Trans if you throw a cigarette butt out of your car window. It all depends on the city, of course.

The first day, I was working with a pretty interesting team. It was a diverse crew--black, white, Hispanic--the numbers kind of balanced out. Some of them asked me why I was there. I told them without reserve: "I am a political prisoner."

I talked about the lawlessness in Huntington Park that I had been protesting. I talked about being lied about in the city council chambers, and the fact that the judge and prosecutor suppressed evidence and lied to the jury, respectively. The people I spoke to agreed with the appraisal I gave of my situation.

Something else that happened during my first day at Cal-Trans. I was working along one of the freeway slopes to pick up trash. I lost my footing and fell down. I hit my head on the ground, but I was wearing a helmet (always required when out and about in the field). One of my fellow crewmates came over, grabbed my right hand, and helped lift me up. He was a young black guy, someone who had been released from jail to work on the  Cal-Trans yard.

My van driver then told me: That's why you can't wear tennis shoes out here in the field. You need to get sturdy work boots, which can better grip the ground and keep you from falling. So ... the guy at the Cal-Trans yard earlier in the day was not just picking on me. He did have my safety in mind, or at least ensuring that the yard wouldn't face any liability. That gave me more comfort about not receiving back the log I had received from the Volunteer Center.

I worked four more days in May, but the fatigue really drained me, and at the end of the shift (the yard usually let us out a little earlier), I was so tired. I could not sleep all that well, I was drifting through the day going forward. I stopped going to Cal-Trans for about a month.

The  biggest reason why I was so tired, struggling to get through those weeks? My blood pressure was sky high, and I was having a harder time sleeping, since I was drinking so much soda. I shared my trials regarding my health in another post, so I won't go into these details.

One other detail worth mention--I brought my Bible with me every day. The Cal-Trans work became the opportune place to study God's Word, to learn more about God's love for me. On the second day of Cal-Trans, when we had to do more extensive weeding, clearing out the dross and dead grass along one of the freeways, I took a break along one of the fences. One of the ladies in our team noticed I was reading my Bible: "So, Bible boy, why are you here?"

I told her my story: "I am a political prisoner."

The staff, the other crew members all agreed with me.

Another guy heard what I had gone through: "Hey, they crucified Jesus Christ, and He was the perfect man!"

Indeed, people shouldn't get hung up on injustice. It's been happening in the world for a very long time. The same man, Randy was his name, would later tell me: "God is preparing you for something."

That was something that I needed to start believing, to start resting in.

Convicted for Doing Nothing Wrong, Sentenced for No Reason, Yet Still Joyful with No Regrets: The Museum of Tolerance

Here is the entire essay that I turned in as part of my sentencing.

I have made no edits, since I stand by what I wrote. I will provide a commentary afterwards:

----------

My visit to the Museum of Tolerance was quite eventful. I had not visited the Museum in decades, so I am glad I could attend again. I will address specifically each of the sites as directed to attend.

HEAR AND MEET A HOLOCAUST SURVIVOR

Mrs. Gabriella Karin was born in Slovakia, which at the time had been part of Czechoslovakia. An expert in pottery and art today, she shares the pain that she had to deal with when fleeing from Nazis and the Gestapo, and also the joy that in spite of the great, evil plan to eliminate all Jewry in Europe failed, and even helped birth the Jewish State of Israel. One early comment that Mrs. Karin shared was particularly tragic. In 1940, when Nazi Germany occupied Slovakia, the deportation of Slovak Jews was not undertaken by Germans, but by fellow Slovaks! It just makes me sick thinking that countrymen would betray their own.

Karin shared a number of photos of her childhood. She was a precious child with a loving family. In fact, two of the most intriguing aspects of her survival took place in two places, but all in one location, the capital city of Bratislava. First, she stayed at a Catholic boarding school. For three years, she stayed with other girls, saved from being separated from her family. She so missed her mother, however. At one point, her mother did come to comfort her.

From there, Karin stayed in an apartment in another section of Bratislava. This was a really tense location, in part because across the street was located the headquarters for the Gestapo in Slovakia. In spite of such a precarious position, she survived! What made it easier for her to go unnoticed? The contract for any apartment dweller explicitly stated that no Jews could live there. Therefore, the Nazis never searched that property!

When World War II ended, she married at 17 years old and moved to Israel. From Israel, she later moved to the United States, specifically Los Angeles, and she worked as a fashion designer here in the area. Later in life, she discovered the name of the Slovakia benefactor who had helped her escape from the Nazi Holocaust. His name was Karol Blanar, and this man had helped many Jews flee to safety from Nazi-Occupied Slovakia. In a previous talk, Karin told the audience that she had been trying to find Mr. Blanar, but had been unsuccessful. An individual in that audience approached her afterwards and offered to assist in finding this man. Karin found out that Blanar had immigrated to the United States. He settled in Ohio. Unfortunately, he had already passed away. His grave maker was unmarked—Karin raised the money to ensure highest honors for Mr. Blanar!

Mrs. Gabriella Karin and me

Mrs. Karin’s account is special because she honored another Holocaust Survivor, Mr. Bob Geminder from Poland, who fled to the United States when he was five years old.  Sadly, he had passed away earlier this year. What struck me so much about Mrs. Karin above all is that she honored other people, men and women who had helped fellow Jews. It shows great spirit to honor others while recounting the details of one’s life. I also really appreciated that she recognized the 11 million people murdered in the Holocaust, not just Jewish communities—which were the most brutalized.

PARA TODOS LOS NINOS/FOR ALL THE CHILDREN

Along this wall of the higher echelons of the museum, I learned more about the Westminster v. Mendez case, specifically presented by documentarian Sandra Robbie in her film “For All the Children.” The testimonies from Latino activists during and after that celebrated court case were interesting to learn about.

While most people who read history know about Brown v. Board of Education, which struck down the so-called “separate but equal” doctrine which had permitted segregated facilities, especially in education.

Mrs. Robbie’s quote says it all: "So many of us believe that the fight for Civil Rights is a black and white battle … Mendez v. Westminster is the story of people of many colors fighting for American equality right here in Orange County.”

This exhibit I found to be the most disappointing. The fight for the rights of all children, including Hispanic students, should have gotten more attention than this one-wall exhibit had provided. Most Californians have no idea that activists for civil rights helped lead the fight for equal education opportunities for all—and pretty much right in our backyard! Some of the posters and signs along the exhibit point out, sadly, that publication education today has not lived up to the expectations outlined in the Westminster case.

FINDING OUR FAMILIES, FINDING OURSELVES

This was a new and lively exhibit! The narration of different actors and celebrities, including Maya Angelou, as well as Billy Crystal and Carlos Santana, was quite engaging. The story of our forefathers coming from different countries to see the world is a story that all of us should learn. I never realized that Comedian Billy Crystal’s father was into boxing, for example. I learned a little about Crystal’s brother.

One of the exhibit featured the long, arduous, and even invasive process that immigrants had to undergone to enter the United States. The walls had pictured the different doors, exam rooms, etc. which newly-arriving immigrants would go into. The health exams which individual were required to undergo should give us all pause and also a sense of gratitude. Our forefathers endured so much so that we would not have to.

The different stories I learned about, the families who braved many setbacks to come to the United States, reminds me that we need to respect those individuals who play by the rules, pay all the fees, pass all the tests to become American citizens, and we should not permit anyone to diminish the process and the people who followed those processes to make the United States a wonderful place.

The section of the exhibit which featured scenes from Maya Angelou’s novel I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings was a strange transition. Angelou’s account of growing up in TexArkana seemed a little out of place at first, but when the narration of her life, in poetry and prose, came through the loudspeakers, I finally understand how Maya had so much to learn about her parents—her grandparents’—past and the character of their lives growing up in the Old South.

TOLERANCE CENTER

This site was updated considerably from what I had seen from my second year in college. New TV monitors along the walls indicated how diverse the news, the media, and its effects on public opinion have become.

I remembered the two doors, one read “Prejudiced”, the other “Unprejudiced.” This time, however, if anyone approached the “Unprejudiced”, a sign “think twice before trying” appeared on the door. As all of us should.

There was the “Free Speech” exhibit, which included interacting with a scenario and responding to different questions. At this stage of my life, I believe that free speech must be protected all the more, including speech we do not like or find offensive. The scenario which suggested that heated rhetoric from a radio station would so inflame the passions.

The maps detailing different hate groups, as well as the escalation of divisive hatred based on race, brought home to me how important it is for us to fight lies with truth, fear with facts.

THE “HOLOCAUST” SECTION

I never cried at a Museum before. This is the first time I walked out of an exhibit and wept. It’s really horrifying to me that so many people are questioning whether the Holocaust happened. The dramatizations of different Germans sitting at a café was quite informative. I appreciate that the exhibit drew from primary sources to share the accounts from actual individuals concerned about the Nazi Reich.

History doesn’t really impact people unless they have a tactile experience in some fashion. Seeing the letters about Hitler’s plans to eliminate all Jewry, watching the dramatizations of Nazi leaders looking for a more efficient means for destroying every Jewish person in Eastern Europe and throughout the continent, were quite harrowing.

I had forgotten that members of the public who visit this section will walk through sections labeled “Able-Bodied” vs. “Women and Children.” One station in the exhibit focused on the fact that a number of Jewish refugees arrived by ocean liner—and were all turned back! Terrible. Countries need to take care of their own people, but at what people does a nation’s leadership need to take into account that some crises are too great to ignore, and that those refugees need assistance?

The scenes of dead bodies dumped into mass graves was really sickening. In contrast, the account of one Jewish Rabbi who stood up to one of the Nazi officers in a death camp was inspiring: “You will never destroy the Jewish people. All race will live forever,” this rabbi declared. Onlookers who survived that death camp would remark how impressive that Rabbi’s courage was before he and others were forced to march into the gas chambers.

SUMMARY

It pains me that I have met more young people who have not heard of the Holocaust. That’s a calamity which must be averted at all costs. “Hope lives when people remember”—Simon Weisenthal.

I do believe that this country needs a more robust discussion on freedom of speech—the problem in Nazi Germany was not only the hateful invective of the Reich and Hitler’s regime, but that opposing parties and independent journalists were silenced. Let’s maintain this right for all to stop hate!

---------

Some things that I did not include in the report which I turned into the court:

1. The Simon Wiesenthal center seems to be losing its focus. There is all this talk about immigration and identity politics, and I fear that much of this obscures the much larger focus of maintaining a livingm working memory of the Holocaust. A growing number of students leave high school in California and across the country--and they know nothing about the decimation of 11 million people, including 6 million Jews and 5 million other so-called "undesirables" at the hands of the Nazi Reich.

2. I am really glad that I included my remarks about freedom of speech. The truth is that Hitler and his hateful Nazis could utter whatever bile they wanted. The problem was that the common people, the activists, the concerned citizens were not permitted to criticism. The answer to speech is more speech. Freedom of speech gives power to the truth to overcome the lies. 

Silencing, suppressing speech because it is deemed hateful actually allows hateful speech--and hateful acts--to proliferate. That is exactly what happened during the Third Reich. Right now, sadly too many people are learning the wrong lessons, and they are foolishly concluding that the only way to prevent "hate speech" is to silence speech. That is a form of hate in itself which will protect no one.

3. I would like a broader discussion as to why so many kids are leaving public schools throughout Los Angeles Unified and the greater California system with no knowledge of the Holocaust and other heinous genocides perpetrated throughout the 20th Century. Is it true that no one will care about the Armenians? Is it true that no one will remember the Rwandans, too?

4. When I entered the Museum of Tolerance, I was really surprised that a security guard not only greeted us in the parking lot, but required every guest to have their trunk inspected! The security concerns have grown in and around the facility!

5. During the Holocaust survivor's talk, some members of the audience seemed determined to blame President Trump for the climate of extremism and hate fostered around the country. I commend Mrs. Karin for refusing to take the bait and simply focusing on the historical facts, the historical tragedy, of what she lived through, and yet so few survived.

6. The theme of "Ordinary People" came back to me again in the History Walk-Through on the Holocaust, from Hitler's rise to power to the Allied Victories in Europe. "Ordinary people" did nothing to stop the tide of Hitler's tyranny, but ordinary people also stepped up to stand up to the evils that were engulfing Europe in the early 1940s.

The banality of evil does not diminish the evil, but merely reveals that no matter how much man may pride himself, he is a fallen creature in need of redemption.

Convicted for Doing Nothing Wrong, Sentenced for No Reason, Yet Still Joyful with No Regrets (Part Two)

After my trip to Texas, I returned to court for sentencing.

Anything could have happened. I had invited friends to attend with me just in case they wanted to remand me into custody right then and there. My attorney assured me that the prosecutor was not interested in any jail time for me.

Of course, it was the judge's decision what would happen. She could do whatever she wanted.

I was convicted of two counts of 148(a)1, resisting arrest--even though I had not resisted arrest. Or you could call it "Failure to follow the lawful order of a police officer," when the order was not lawful to begin with.

The first count? I was to write an essay following a visit to the Museum of Tolerance. I was to write apology letters to the city council in Huntington Park and the two police officers.

For the second count. "364 days in jail ... suspended."

Hearing that number really shocked me. Really? This judge--actually, a commissioner, meaning that she is not elected--was going to hold over my head the threat of jail time?! Wow.

Indeed, she wanted to throw the book at me, and reminder, this was for sitting in a city council meeting.

After the sentencing hearing, my attorney did not think much of my filing for an appeal. "There was not judicial or jury misconduct, but you are welcome to file an appeal."

Of course I was! That was taken care of one month later, about one day before the deadline would elapse.

I have to say that the three friends whom I had brought with me, one of whom would take care of my possessions in the event that I was remanded into custody--were really not that helpful. The suspended sentence awakened a great deal of fear and trepidation. One of them kept repeating "Oh, Arthur, you better be careful! You better watch out!"

What kind of  support was that? It was bad enough to be wrongfully convicted, and unjustly sentenced. Then I had three people with me who were about as useful, as helpful as Job's friends. What was the point?

This ordeal in some cases would turn out to be quite a challenging ordeal. I really could not look to others for help, and by "others", I mean flesh and blood. That's just the long and short if. What comfort could these people have really given me, anyway? I was arrested, tried, convicted, and sentenced, with all these conditions hanging over me.

And yet all of it was unfair. Then again, I have been saying that life is not fair, and for me, life does not have to be fair. Grace is not fair, unmerited favor is exactly that--unmerited, therefore it has nothing to do with fairness.

We all went out to eat afterwards. One of the three friends kept saying over and over "What are you going to do, Arthur? This is so unfair?"

Just what I needed, someone pointing out to me how unfair this whole mess was, and at the same time putting on me the pressure of trying to figure out what to do about all of it. I had done everything that I could do. I had fought against this lawlessness, both in the city council chambers and the chambers of the court. Nothing came of either venue.

It was really sad having people who were supposed to support me ... not really support me. I guess they were really shell-shocked with everything that was happening to me. They ended up leaving after we ate, but I stayed around just to take care of some work.

Then things got interesting that day.

This was October 30, 2018. I was sentenced that day in Downey Court. Afterwards, I went to a local restaurant on Firestone just to grab a bite and then read and write, At the time, I was still wearing and carrying around with me my Make California Great Again cap. Why should I stop living my life just because I have been unjustly convicted of a crime that was not a crime?

After my three friends left, a group of ten high school students walked into the restaurant. Most of them were black and Hispanic, but one of them was Asian. One of them came over to me to ask for money. I told him that I don't hand out money, and that's just the way it is. Then another one of them noticed my MCGA hat. "You voted for Donald Trump?" he asked me. Yes, I did!

He was taken aback, and walked away. Then three other of them came around the table, with the rest of the following: "Why do you have a problem with black people? Why do you have a problem with them?"

It was really weird, and the only thing that was troubling me at the time was to be put on the spot to defend my vote for President Trump. I was not worried about my safety at all. Some of the kids sat in the booth next to mine to hear me. 

Waiting in line to make an order, another guy, an older Hispanic gentleman saw what was going on, and he said to the small crowd of kids "Alright, guys, give him some space."

I then explained to all of them that I not only didn't have a problem with black people, but some of my black friends even voted for Trump! That really surprised some of them. Then one of the young ladies asked me: "Why did you vote for Donald Trump?"

I am so glad they asked! I went down the list of reasons why I supported the President, and why I am glad that he was elected. I talked about the economic growth, the job growth for Americans of all demographics. I mentioned his pro-life record--the best of any President, I might add!

After that extended explanation, four of the kids shook my hand! And that was that.

Grace superabounds, in spite of everything that I had faced that day. But it got better!

The older Hispanic guy told me that he got worried that those ten high schools were going to hurt me. "I grew up in South LA, so I have seen bad things happen before." He then  told me that he had voted for Donald Trump, as well. He was also an immigrant, having come legally from Mexico when he was six years old! COOL!

Another guy, the boyfriend of the local manager, then came up to me and the other guy. He also shared that he was ready to step in and help me out just in case things got out of hand and the kids were going to jump me or something. That whole time I never feared for my safety, but it was good to learn afterwards that there were people there ready to help me out.

That was the same day that I was sentenced for no reason, and even then I had a reason to be joyful.

More People Are Noticing that I Am Losing Weight

"I noticed that you are losing weight. What's your secret?"

Someone asked me this question today. I was really glad that this man came up to me and warmly praised my new physique.

For those who cannot see me now, I was tipping the scales at 255 lbs. at the beginning of 2017.

I had staved off eating fast food, and then my weight went down to about 225.

My weight was still fluctuating here and there.

Then during my physical earlier this year, my weight was 238 per the scale, with my clothes on. Weighing myself right after taking a share, I was at 232.

I really wanted to reduce my weight, since I wanted to avoid high blood pressure issues and a possible stroke.

However, I realized that I wanted whatever further weight loss to remain a constant. I was not interested in yoyo dieting.

I answered the man this morning: "JESUS!"

Indeed, His work granted me sonship before God the Father -- our father.

"1Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God: therefore the world knoweth us not, because it knew him not."

This is great love, and yet I was struggling to receive this love all too often!

"Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him." (1 John 2:15)

I had been meditating on the work of the Cross, and how that expanded God's love for me. I realized that there were perversions I had been struggling with because ... the love of the Father was not in me.

I realized that the same problems -- lust of the flesh, lust of the eye, pride of life -- are all a result of loving the world, not knowing, not receiving, not welcoming the Love of the Father!

Why was I eating so much? Why was I indulging in certain foods? That is one example of the "lusts of the flesh" (1 John 2:16)

I was not enjoying the rich, expansive, ever-growing love of the Father!

The more that I realized how alive, how real, how all-encompasing His love is for me, I realized that this richness was filling me up way better than food ever could!

That's what has made it easier for me to forgo eating as much as I used to.

Now, I honor hunger, I honor satiety. My life does not revolve around the next meal, nor do I eat food to feel better.

Jesus!

Jesus, Grace Personified is Better--Sin Just Plain Sucks

I must say, I have a really hard time understanding how anyone can claim that they are under grace, and yet they engage in all kinds of sin, all kinds of perversion.

Anyone who has tasted, who has seen that the LORD is Good (Psalm 34:8) knows that sin ... sucks!

"You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand." (Psalm 16:11)

Yes, that verse above is in the Bible.

God is not against us having fun, having life.

Remember, Jesus was--IS--the life of the party!

"7Jesus saith unto them, Fill the waterpots with water. And they filled them up to the brim. 8And he saith unto them, Draw out now, and bear unto the governor of the feast. And they bare it. 9When the ruler of the feast had tasted the water that was made wine, and knew not whence it was: (but the servants which drew the water knew;) the governor of the feast called the bridegroom, 10And saith unto him, Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine; and when men have well drunk, then that which is worse: but thou hast kept the good wine until now." (John 2:7-10)

Jeuss literally saved the party. He turned water into wine. Not exactly healing, but a miracle, the First Miracle He performed!

God is all about us having fun.

Really, He is!

So, when people have this weird idea that grace is a license to sin, I have to ask:

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

I think of that scene toward the end of the movie "Return to Oz", from the early 1980s.

Before Dorothy Gale goes back to Kansas, she says good-bye to her pet hen, Belina. She asks the hen if she is going to come home with her.

Belina is just shocked, and shoots back:

"What, and go back to that hum-drum world again?"

Once she had seen the Emerald City, beautiful in its dazzling wealth and fresh wonder, why would she want to go back to dry, flat, boring Kansas?

I feel the same way when people talk about sin, in contrast to the love, joy, and pleasure of the Son.

What? Why would I want to go back to that garbage? Why would I want to settle for less?!

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

How quickly we forget, and how correctly Paul would write:

"4Or despisest thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and longsuffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance?" (Romans 2:4)

Riches, goodness, longsuffering.

I LIKE THAT!!

As for sin:

"The wages of sin is death," (Romans 6:23)

I DON'T LIKE THAT!

Also, let's not forget Paul's exhortation to pastor-in-training Titus:

"11For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men, 12Teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world; 13Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ;" (2 Titus 2:11-13)

Grace teaches us to say "No!" to sin.

Of course it does! Grace is better! Why settle for death, hell, and the grave?

Thanks, but no thanks.

Last of all, John could not have written better in his First Epistle:

"15Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him." (1 John 2:15)

Notice that John writes "Don't love the world." He points out the reason why people love the world: "The love of the Father is not in them."

It's about more than knowing that God the Father loves you. Is His love in you? Have you let His love in, or do you still keep it out, convinced that there are things that you have thought or done, that you are thinking or feeling, that would make Him unhappy?

Do you believe that the Father loves you? Do you see His love as intimate, close, never to leave you? Do you see Daddy God embracing you, even at your worst, your lowest, your basest, just as in Jesus' parable? (cf Luke 15:20).

Now, why does John reproach "love of the world"?

"16For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world." (1 John 2:16)

The three different types of human-centered--strained attempts at pleasure: giving into temptations, trying to please our eyes, our senses; making ourselves big in the eyes of the world, big reputation  etc--is not from the Father, not from our loving Daddy.

And

"17And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever." (1 John 2:17)

The biggest problem with whatever the world has to offer? John does not mention the Ten Commandments. He does not mention God the Father's displeasure with sin.

The reason why the world and whatever it has to offer is not good enough? It passes away. It's NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

We are made for eternal things. Remember back to Psalm 16:11, in which there are "eternal pleasures
" at Jesus' right hand!

I want what lasts, not what is temporal.

Jesus, Grace personified is better. ALWAYS!

As for sin. Really?

Sin just plain sucks. BORING!

I want life, and that more abundantly--and that is PRECISELY what Jesus came to give us! (John 10:10)

Sin cannot compare: Jesus, Grace Personified is Better!

Convicted for Doing Nothing Wrong, Sentenced for No Reason, Yet Still Joyful with No Regrets

(The use of this cartoon will make sense very soon)

So, on October 25. 2018, I was found guilty in a court of law for ... sitting in a city council meeting.

The prosecutor lied to the jury.

The judge suppressed evidence.

Of the eleven witnesses I had lined up to testify, only two were permitted to testify. What gives?

The jury had no idea what was going on. They just went along with the basic principle that if a cop tells you to do something, you just have to do it. Really? What if he wanted to take my money. Am I then obliged to turn over the cash?

I was found guilty ... of sitting in a city council meeting. Officially, I was convicted of two counts of California Penal Code section 148a1, "resisting arrest" or "failure to follow the lawful order of a police officer."

I contend to this day that the order for me to be removed from the Huntington Park City Council chamber was an unlawful order. I was called out of order for no reason, and then someone in the audience blurted out, lied to the city council elected officials, and they in turn went along with the lie just to have me removed.

I refused to leave. They had no right.

What's done is done.

I left the court house that Thursday afternoon, puzzled that this had happened. "How could I be found guilty for sitting in a city council meeting?"

A number of my friends from We the People Rising joined me at the court hearing. They witnessed three bailiffs stand in the courtroom when the verdict was announced, and then I stood up to hear the verdict.

"On count One ... Guilty!"

"On count Two ... Guilty!"

I was just shocked, puzzled, but no tears, no screaming or yelling. The court officers were preparing for the worst, but the worst did not happen--at least in my emotions.

I left the court room, since sentencing was postponed until Tuesday, the next week. My attorney took the heat so that I could go to a work event in Texas over the weekend. I was not going to stop living my life just because someone declared me guilty on the most flimsy of premises.

That evening, I went out to eat with the friends who had come with me. I didn't really let anything hit me yet. Just like when you find out that someone close to you has died, the full pain of this loss does not hit you right away. You don't realize what the loss is going to look like until the memories start rolling in, and then the realization that the person with whom you shared those memories is now gone forever.

That night, I went home. I went home, and I was just overwhelmed with grief as soon as I entered my home.

I cried for an hour that night. I could not believed that this was happening to me.

How could this happen to me? How could this be allowed to happen? Lord Jesus, I had prayed for your favor, I asked for your grace to get me out of this, to ensure an acquittal, to stand up to the abuses of the corrupt city council, the police, the system.

And yet ... this?! WHY?

I had never cried so hard. It hurt my lungs, I was in such grief. With all of this cascading over me, I called the first I could think of ... my employer Brian Camenker. He had been through this whole trial with me. I have never had so great an employer as Brian, and a better career than working for MassResistance.

He was with me as I cried out in pain. It was such a devastating loss. He shared with me similar challenges, pains, losses that he had faced in his life. He also talked about the overcoming spirit that he and his own father had demonstrated many times over.

Brian shared with me part of an elegant quote from President Theodore Roosevelt:

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

Yes, I had been in the arena. I had welcomed victories, and I was not bracing a defeat. 

The anxiety I felt was great, too. Had I been mistaken this whole time? Did I miss God? Did I get this all wrong or something?

I was panicking somewhat at this point, too. Was I all alone in this world? Since God did not rescue me from a guilty verdict, was He someone whom I could not trust for anything now? Those doubts were the most crushing, and were certainly the deepest reasons for my despair.

I ended up calling two other people, friends of mine who had joined me at the courthouse that afternoon, and ate dinner with me that evening. One of them said "It will be OK, buddy." Another one admitted to me his own run-in with the law, and how the event brought him to his knees to ask Jesus Christ to be His Savior.

Quite a powerful, yet quiet admission that this man had made to me. I realized that I had to come to God directly with this. I had to not run from Him, or act as if He was not there for me. I needed to rest and recognize "There is a reason for this."

I went to my event in Texas. It was so hard not to focus on "The Sentencing!"

But then I began to return to the gift of righteousness which we receive (and keep receiving!) because of Christ Jesus (Romans 5:17).

No matter what is happening, no matter whether I understand what God is doing, or not doing, I have been made the righteousness of God in Christ Jesus (2 Corinthians 5:21). At no time could I doubt or wonder whether God was for me. Truth be told, however, I could not understand what was going on.

That recognition of my righteousness in Him--apart from works, from feelings, from circumstances--began to ease my heart and soul.

The sentencing was going to be interesting, that was for certain. More to come.