Make a Difference Mondays, by, Gina Meyers

 

 

 

Make a difference Mondays

Meet Avi Gardner

 

 

By, Gina Meyers

 

 

In our new format, Serendipity Press will be introducing you to people and concepts that “Make a Difference”, each Monday. In Avi Gardner’s first book, From Darkness To Light: A Fight for my Life and Light, ( Copyright © 2016 by, Avi Gardner, Serendipity Media, 978-0692450390) Avi tackles many difficult subjects. She poses many important questions in her book,  one of which, “how do we have the courage to forgive ourselves when unforgivable things have happened to our spirits?” She answers this and many other questions with a positive and upbeat attitude, taking into account you must acknowledge and not ignore what has transpired and you must give yourself time to “heal and to feel”. She has done an exceptional job at providing resources and thoughts on what has helped her through what many term, “ritual abuse”. She has become a singer and a song writer and has written not only a comprehensive guide on putting God first, but her message also is shown in poetry and prose. Read in her own words, Chapter 29, Courage.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 29 - Courage

William Shakespeare wrote, “Our fears are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.”

 

Fear is the opposite of faith. Just as we are commanded to love, we are commanded to “Fear not.” Courage is a choice. It is faith in action.

 

As Peter Hill founder of World Tai Chi, G.E.T.I.T., and author of G.E.T.I.T. Together teaches, courage is not the absence of fear. It is the ability to move forward even when we feel it. We do not need to wait for fear to go away before taking action. In fact, we do just the opposite. By moving forward through our fear, we gain more courage to take the next action. When we, as Peter Hill says, “…have a clear goal with pure intent,” we can move past any fear. As Anthony Robbins said, a clear enough why overcomes any how. Susan Jeffers, author of, Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway, says that fear does not go away. The more we exercise our muscles, our ability to move through fear strengthens.

 

Courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is the ability to keep moving forward even when we feel afraid, unless of course, a bus is coming our way.

 

It takes courage to keep looking and moving forward when we don’t see where we are going. We can pray for this courage and keep looking toward our dreams knowing that they will come to pass, taking one step at a time.

 

When I have something big enough to believe in, faith replaces fear. Whenever I feel afraid, I choose to replace this fear by believing in the atonement of Jesus Christ, by loving God with all of my heart, all of my might, all of my mind, and all of my soul. When I believe that He is taking care of things for me, while I work super hard, I am filled with His Light, and His perfect Love casts out all fear.

 

 

Before publishing this book, I knew I would be facing a lot of fears, so I bought a surfboard. I figured having enough faith to feel safe in the ocean would help me to have enough faith to publish the book.

 

When I was a kid, I used to surround myself with stuffed animals at night. I imagined myself submerged deep in the ocean, with sharks swimming around me. It was always light, and I could see. I knew my numerous stuffed animals would keep me safe. They would stop the sharks from hurting me.

 

The same faith that I used as a child is true for me today. This time, instead of stuffed animals around me, my Heavenly Father has my back. He won’t let anything hurt me. I am safe. Perfect love casts out all fear.

 

We may still fear at times.  God does not expect us to be perfect. We can pray to be filled with perfect love every day! Eventually, faith replaces this fear. 

 

When I went to the Mormon temple again after a seventeen-year absence, I felt at home. As my friends and I drove over the bridge, light from the sunrise illuminated the bay. I knew I was coming home. It had been a long journey.

 

Inside the temple, many things were on my mind. As I mentioned earlier, I had this big test to pass in order to keep my credentials in California. In order to keep my current position until the end of the year, I had one shot. I also knew I needed to write my book, and at the same time, still felt really scared about doing it.

 

While I sat with my friends inside the temple, two very clear thoughts came to my head. I had thoughts like this before during very important times in my life, and they were always right. To me, these thoughts were direct inspiration, things I needed to know. The first thought was very clear. “You will pass the test.” The second thought came just as clearly. “Publish the book. You will be safe. Build my kingdom, and you will be safe.”

 

The inspiration gave me motivation to keep studying. I spent hours and days and received several priesthood blessings. Knowing I would pass brought so much peace that I had the power to study even harder.  Sure enough, I passed the test.

 

When fears regarding my own safety came up about publishing the book, I kept remembering what God said, “Publish the book, and you will be safe. Build my kingdom, and you will be safe.”

 

~

It has been said that courage is the testing point of all virtues. When we are at a place where every virtue is tested, and we still choose the right thing, that is courage.

 

According to Joseph Fielding Smith, there is a difference between those who are, “brave at heart,” and those who have “the courage of faith.” The brave at heart fight for a cause and often give up when they see the battle as hopeless, or when they feel despair. Courage of faith comes when we believe in something much bigger than ourselves to make things happen. Those with courage of faith never give up.

 

Fielding goes on, “He (Paul) labored fearlessly, he had delivered a divine message, he had resisted the enemy, and they apparently triumphed over him. He was taken prisoner and subjected to humiliating treatment by the administrators of the law. He was in bonds, and death awaited him, but he was still courageous. His was the courage of faith. While he was in prison and awaiting death, when most people would have thought “Their cause lost,” Paul wrote to the Ephesians, “Wherefore take unto you the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.” Imagine how much courage that takes!

He was awaiting death, and still he said to protect himself with the armor of God.

 

Fielding continues, “ After we have done all we could do for the cause of truth, and withstood the evil that men have brought upon us, and we have been overwhelmed by their wrongs, it is still our duty to stand. We cannot give up; we must not lie down. Great causes are not won in a single generation. To stand firm in the face of overwhelming opposition, when you have done all you can, is the courage of faith. The courage of faith is the courage of progress. Men who possess that divine quality go on; they are not permitted to stand still if they would. They are not simply creatures of their own power and wisdom; they are instrumentalities of a higher law and a divine purpose.

 

Others would quit; they would avoid trouble.  Such men read history, if at all, only as they make it; they cannot see the hand of God in the affairs of men, because they see only with the eye of man and not with the eye of faith. All resistance is gone out of them – they have left God out of the question. They have not put on his whole armor. Without it, they are loaded down with fear and apprehension, and they sink. To such men everything that brings trouble seems necessary. As Saints of God, it is our duty “to stand,” even when we are overwhelmed by evil.

 

He states, “One of the highest qualities of all true leadership is a high standard of courage.”

 

As we move forward, we can have something else to look forward to. 

As much as I say it is not what we experience but the meaning we give to it that matters, I wonder how much of my identity comes from what I went through. I wonder if some of my perceived self-worth comes from surviving something big.

 

What will I do next?

 

It takes courage as we move forward living a life based on new beliefs. With courage, we create new situations where we know these new beliefs are possible. Really, there is no reason to fear because God is in charge. We are always safe.

 

 

 

God is in Charge

God is in charge,

There is nothing to fear

God is in charge

There is no need to fear

 

His perfect Love

Casts out all fear

‘Cause God is in charge,

There’s no need to fear

 

For He knows

What we want

Before we even ask.

He gives us what we need.

There’s no need to look back.

 

God is in Charge

God is in charge,

There is nothing to fear

God is in charge

There is no need to fear

 

His perfect Love

Casts out all fear

‘Cause God is in charge,

There’s no need to fear

                   -Avi Gardner

Author, Guest Speaker, Singer, Avi Gardner

Buy the book

Author, Publisher, Gina Meyers

Book Description: From Darkness To Light: A Fight For My Light and Life

Serendipity provides a tradition of success. Whether you chose the road less traveled or the path most traveled, rest assured that your needs are our top priority. From Darkness To Light: A Fight For My Light and Life, by, Avi Gardner.

From Darkness to Light

by, Avi Gardner

How many of us are dealing with major changes? How many of us want tools for surviving divorce, death, war, assault, and other major traumas?  How many of us desperately need tools for moving forward and living our dreams?

Losing almost everything she owned and nearly all she was as a person, Avi Gardner found the courage to begin again and rebuild her life from the ashes. Ever since her early teens, Avi’s motto to others has been: “Live your dreams.” Although she tried time and time again to live her instead, she lived out unconscious beliefs formed during a traumatic childhood.

 

Like many World War II and Vietnam veterans, Avi relived early events as if they were happening in the present. As she tried to put the pieces together, her whole life seemed to fall apart. Until one morning she stepped out in front of a bus.

 

This book is her story. It is about the Light that gets us through the darkest times. Let it guide you with tools to help you heal from trauma, PTSD or any major life change. Let it help you truly live your dreams and reach your full potential. Let it be your first step toward the Light.

 Preorder your e book today!

Apple Cinnamon Coffee Cake

Apple Cinnamon Coffee Cake

½ cup of butter, softened

1 cup of granulated sugar

2 eggs

2 teaspoons of vanilla extract

2 cups of all-purpose flour, divided use

1 ½ teaspoons of baking powder

½ teaspoon of baking soda

½ teaspoon of salt

1 cup of buttermilk

2 cups of finely peeled apples

1 ¼ cups of packed organic brown sugar

½ cup of chopped nuts

1 to 2 Tablespoons of cinnamon

1/3 cup of melted butter

Drizzle topping: (optional)

½ cup of semisweet chocolate chips

1 teaspoon of shortening

 

Directions: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour a 10-inch tube pan; set aside. In a large mixing bowl, beat together ½ cup of softened butter, and sugar until well-combined. Beat in eggs and vanilla.

Combine 2 2/3rds cups of flour, the baking powder, soda and salt; add alternately to beaten mixture with buttermilk, beating until combined. Fold in apples.

While cake is cooling, combine chocolate pieces and shortening in a small saucepan or micro-safe bowl. Melt over very low heat, stirring until blended, or microwave on low power until melted, stirring to blend. Before serving, drizzle topping over cake. Makes 12 to 16 servings.

Homemade Pumpkin Pie

Homemade Pumpkin Pie

By, Chef Gina Meyers

1 Pumpkin (small, Trade Joes sells pumpkins for pies)

3 eggs

1 cup of Evaporated Milk, Vitamin D Added

1 stick of butter (melted)

Dash of salt

¾ cup of Organic Brown Sugar

1 Tablespoon of vanilla extract

1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon

1 teaspoon of ground nutmeg

1 ready to eat Graham Cracker Crust

Directions: Wash pumpkin, cut in half, remove stem and scoop out seeds and remove strings. Place cut side down on a baking sheet and bake until tender, about one hour at 350 degrees.

Once cooled, peel, smash, and mix pumpkin until smooth. In a large bowl, add milk, melted butter, pumpkin puree, eggs, dash of salt, cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla extra and blend with an electric mixer until smooth. Pour into crust and bake at 350 degrees for one hour.

Pumpkin Pomegranate Bread

 

 

 

Pumpkin Pomegranate Bread

By, Gina Meyers

1 (15 ounce) canned pumpkin puree (spiced)

1 ½ cups of granulated sugar

½ cup of vegetable or coconut oil

¼ cup of water

2 eggs

2 ¼ cups of all-purpose flour (if you are gluten-free, substitute Nu Flour)

½ Tablespoon of ground cinnamon

½ Tablespoon of ground nutmeg

1 teaspoon of baking soda

1 teaspoon of salt

¼ cup of pomegranate kernels (arils)

Directions: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray with either extra virgin olive oil or canola non-stick cooking spray three 9x5 inch loaf pans. In a large bowl, combine sugar, pumpkin puree, oil, water, and eggs. Beat until smooth. Blend in flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, baking soda, and salt. If using the spice pumpkin puree, no need for additional spices. Fold in pomegranate arils. Bake for one hour or until toothpick comes out clean from the center of the bread.

 

Pomegranate Icing

1 cup of powdered sugar

2 1/2 Tablespoons of POM (Pomegranate Juice)

Mix in a bowl with  a spoon, add more powdered sugar if needed or a 1/2 Tablespoon at a time of pomegranate juice if mixture needs it. Drizzle mixture over your baked and cooled Pumpkin Pomegranate Bread.

Gina's Cookbooks Buy Here

Whole Grain Pomegranate Sangria Bread

Whole Grain Pomegranate Sangria Bread

By, Chef Gina Meyers

The Twin Pomegranate Wine Cookbook Book Trailer

 Purchase the Pomegranate Cookbook

1 Tablespoon of Cornmeal

1 cup of quick-cooking rolled oats

1 cup of buttermilk, divided

½ cup of True Temptation Pomegranate Sangria

2 cups of all-purpose flour

1 cup of whole wheat flour

2 Tablespoons of packed light brown sugar

1 Tablespoon of baking powder

1 ½ teaspoons of caraway seeds

1 teaspoon of baking soda

1 teaspoon of salt

6 tablespoons of butter or margarine, chilled, cut into pieces.

2 eggs, lightly beaten, divided

½ cup of currants

½ cup of pomegranate seeds

Directions: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Sprinkle large baking sheet with cornmeal. In a bowl, combine oats with ½ cup of buttermilk; ¼ cup of pomegranate sangria let stand ten minutes. Meanwhile, in a bowl, combine all-purpose and whole wheat flour(s), sugar, baking powder, caraway seeds, baking soda and salt. With a pastry blender or two knives, cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse crumbs: set aside. Reserve 1 Tablespoon of egg; combine remaining egg with remaining buttermilk (1/2 cup), plus ¼ cup of Pomegranate Sangria. Stir into oat mixture; stir in currants and pomegranate seeds. Stir buttermilk mixture into flour mixture until stiff dough forms. Turn dough onto lightly floured surface. Knead dough until smooth, 1-2 minutes. Shape dough into round loaf; place on baking sheet. Brush top of dough with remaining egg. With serrated knife, cut an “X” in top of bread, extending cut over sides of loaf down to baking sheet. Let stand in warm place for fifteen minutes. Bake 40-45 minutes or until loaf sounds hollow when tapped on bottom. Cool slightly on pan on wire rack before serving.

 

Buy The Twin Pomegranate Wine Cookbook

The Ghost Town, by, Alan R. Hill

The Ghost Town

By, Alan R. Hill

http://www.serendipitymediagroup.com

We stood on the cold corner across the street from our high school, huddled together against the wind. The news was beyond our comprehension. It took our breath away. What could we do? It was November 22, 1963.  I left for the Marine Corps in the beginning of March and my friend shortly after.

Four years later we were both back home, safe and somewhat sound. In late May we departed for a trip across the United States, to the East Coast and beyond.

We crested the ridge and the vista of the valley lay open before us. A ribbon of road as far as the eye could see. The rolling yellows and greens held in place by a powder blue sky, all around and above. One glance at my friend’s appreciative face and flashing brown eyes told me he saw what I did.  

It was the Wyoming prairie lands we were entering. We rolled over the top and the weight of gravity propelled us downward. We fell quietly, in tandem with the pristine landscape, part and parcel of it, like a hawk sweeping down from on high.

 As the road leveled and straightened we saw some movement in the sage brush to our right. Two wild horses, a white stallion and his roan mare. Shiney coats all. They ran along side us, we slowed and stopped. They continued on ahead of us and they stopped. They started a kind of dance on the edge of the roadway while tossing their heads to and fro. Then committed, they ran, hooves ringing hallow on the asphalt, across the road, off and into the prairie and away.

We gasped for breath, the sight was so beautiful, the experience so elemental.  They disappeared into the depths of the prairie, eventually merging with the variegated yellows and greens. Apparently swallowed by that expanse. Or perhaps re-entering a portal into another time from which they had only momentarily appeared. A loud “clunk”, broke the silence, transmission in gear we continued on our way. A wary eye on the gas gauge, it was getting low. There was a turn up ahead and it looked like the only one we might see for days. We took it.

There was a one pump gas station on the way into town. Relieved we pulled in, but it was deserted. We got out of the car and looked around. The back door on the second story of the worn house that fronted the property, opened. An old man stepped out and came down the rickety flight of stairs. His hair was white, eyes sky blue, he was tall and there was a calmness, and a dignity about him.

He came over to us standing by the pump. “Where you young fellas headed?” he asked stopping to talk to us, rather than going directly to the pump. We explained we were headed out across country, “going to New York and the World’s Fair in Canada.” We continued to talk as he approached the pump.

“If I was a little younger, I’d throw my knapsack in the back there and come along with you,” he said simply, while removing the pump. There was a stillness and quietness in his motion.

At his words I could see a lanky youth with a full head of thick brown curly hair, slinging his knapsack in the backseat of the car, decidedly; as if the direction of time was no object.

He filled our tank with gas, we talked a bit more, paid, wished each other well, and leaving him there, drove into town.

It looked like an old cowboy town. The street was unpaved and the stores and shops which were all closed were bordered by a wooden platform that ran in front of them along both sides of the street. Any paint long ago faded revealing a uniform grayness. Where once their sprouted a rich and vibrant oiled wood, pungent and resounding from the heels of passersby, the boards now complained and ached, and fairly groaned with their history. But it may have been the wind I heard.

When the storefront street came to an end, there were homes. But they also were closed. Made mere houses by boards nailed to windows and doors, signaling absence and barring entrance to their worlds. The wind made a circle of dust that ran up and down the street. Like mini tornadoes in a fast food world, impatient and unable to commit to a full run, hither and yon, starting, stopping, appearing, now gone. From whence does the wind come?

Retracing our steps we were surprised to find an open restaurant. The one shop on the street that was open appeared closed by virtue of its proximity to the others. We looked in, there were people inside. We stepped across the threshold, and back in time. All eyes turned to look at us. We strode to the counter, and sat on the unstable stools effortlessly maintaining center stage. Exchanging the temptation for a mad spin on the stools, to slow half revolutions for the sake of decorum, the seats themselves protesting their years of service loudly with each screeching turn.

 “Where you young fellas headed?” we were asked.

 “Where’re ya from?” another shouted.

 “Headed to New York and up from San Francisco,” we explained.

“What are you “sour dough’s” going to be doing in these parts?” we were asked, amid a round of laughter.

What’s a “sour dough” I thought? Later, I realized it was a reference to the long gone gold rush days of San Francisco and our famous sour dough bread.

 “We were running out of gas,” we answered. “What happened here?” we asked.

“Well, used to be a river there,” said one of the men as he pointed out the window of the small old restaurant. We followed his finger to a red gorge, like a scar in the earth, which must have been the river.

 “What happened?” we asked.

 “Dried up” we were told.

 “Used to do some mining too”, said another.

 “Mostly everyone gone now though,” added a third.

We ate and conversed with the remaining citizens of the town, after which we again said our farewells. Then we walked about the town a bit and took a few photographs. The empty houses with barred doors, the empty wind swept streets.

We passed the one pump gas station on the way out of town. I caught the blue eyes of the old man as we drove past and waved. He returned the salutation.

When our eyes met, an instant before our arms moved, there was eternity unbidden. It was like coming upon a deer in a meadow. You can glimpse it but can’t hold it.  I think the old man knew it, too.

As we drove on I had a feeling he was in the back seat traveling with us, eager for life and alert, running his fingers through his long curly hair as he leaned forward to say something to us, his enthusiasm making us laugh.

It was the summer of 1968. In less than a week we were in New York City. 

We heard the news on the radio. On June 6th we had our suits pressed.  The Chinese Laundry storefront looked harmless enough, and very small. We were a step behind Napoleon Solo as in the Man From UNCLE. We were led behind the counter through the curtain into a cavernous labyrinth of the bowels of some huge hotel. We left our suits, and waited feeling naked and vulnerable.

Next day we joined the solemn procession at Saint Patrick’s Cathedral. Walking silently sadly, down the aisle and around the closed casket.  What could we do? We paid our respects along with the others. It didn’t seem enough. Both brothers gone, first John now Bobby.

The channel of time carried us on, and swept us away. The Saint Lawrence River was beautiful. We arrived in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. We were surprised they spoke French? The World Fair had ended in October 1967, it was now an expo. Most of the pavilions lived on, what we saw there was an exhibit called “Man and his World.”

Alan Hill (Alanrhill2015@gmail.com 559449-1970 © July 12, 2015.