White House...tree trimming triggers childhood memories! Give generously at Christmas...

The day after thanksgiving the President and the 1st Lady arranged for the White House Christmas tree to be delivered to the historic home by horse-drawn carriage from a backwoods farm in Shepperdstown (West Virginia) where it once once graced the country landscape with outstretched limbs.

The Obama's were the proud recipients of a towering 18 1/2 foot fir (a staggering twelve feet wide) which was promptly hoisted into a prominent place of honor in the oval-shaped blue room on the state floor of the White House.

The traditional tree, planted in 1996, was hand-picked by the Chief Usher (Admiral Stephen Rochon).

In a festive setting - amidst a lot of camaraderie (fueled by a jug or two of eggnog and hot-buttered rum?) - White House staff gathered to decorate the majestic offering from mother nature's generous bounty.

The whole heart-warming story triggered memories of my own childhood at the yuletide season.

When I was just about four or five, for instance, I recall flying down the stairs at the crack of dawn ever-hopeful that during the night when I was deep in slumber a tree had magically been erected with the help of one of Santa's thoughtful helpers.

But, each morning, a tinge of sadness flooded over me.

No tree!

On Christmas eve, I half-expected that Santa Clause was going to pass our house by; after all, at that juncture there wasn't  any surefire sign that the joy of the Christmas season (especially a dazzling tree with all the trimmings) would ever descend on our humble home on Old Weston Road (just shy of historic Indian trail).

Had I been a bad boy?

That night, shortly after I was tucked in my bed and the lights were turned out, a few tears filled my wide sad eyes before I dropped off into dreamland.

Curiously, I slept in the next day.

In fact, while I was deep in slumber, I could hear my name being called far away in the distance somewhere.

Suddenly, I came to a start.

I bolted up in bed after I realized that one of my older brothers was shouting out my name and coaxing me to come downstairs to the living-room right away.

So, I slipped out of bed and slowly crept down the stairwell  in my superhero pajamas expecting the worst!

Suddenly, I spied a beautiful Christmas tree - decorated from top to bottom with pretty twinkling lights, candy canes, and eye-catching doo-dads - which sent out a thousand rainbows this way 'n that when they caught the light.

And, beneath the lovely tree, there were a dozen or so inviting gift-wrapped packages beckoning me!

My heart lept out of my chest as I dashed down the last stair or two and dove under the tree in search of one of the little gems with my own name on it.

Of course, in retrospect, the curious scenario which unfolded that week makes sense to me now.

When you grow up and become an adult you are often forced to face the truth.

Mother was trying to survive on a small budget - and, of course - there were many mouths to feed.

When my father (rest his soul) passed to spirit at a relatively young age - and she was forced to fend for herself and her little posse of  kids - it must have been a difficult path for a poor uneducated woman to have to journey down alone.

Like any normal loving parent - my mother wanted her children to experience the joys of christmas, too - in spite of the fact it may be a struggle to achieve.

Looking back, I realize the strain certainly took its toll.

For this reason - the tree was purchased for a song late Christmas eve - from a vendor on the verge of calling it a day before my anxious mother and older brother happened along in the freezing night air.

Ida was a good woman and it must have broken her heart to have been burdened so.

I'll always remember the last time I visited my mother (who I was separated from at the age of 7).

I was all of 18 and on my way to New York City to pursue an acting career on the stage.

Shortly after I spirited her out of the nursing home to treat her to an ale at a pub down the street (on the sly at her request) she teared up and expressed her sorrow at not being able to help me financially with my trip.

It's one of those memories that will always remain fresh in my mind and close to my heart.

Over the years, there have been many joyous Christmases and a handful of blue ones, too.

Those most fondly recalled are the ones I spent with a lover, or a best friend, even a stranger on occasion who sauntered into my life unexpectedly - and  like me - pined for some company on a holiday that is often a very sad one for those who have lost loved ones, have no family, or outlived their friends.

Each year I make it a point to give to a charity with that in mind (hopeful that an anonymous giving hand may bring a little comfort and joy into someone's life during the Yuletide season).

And, I trust that you will be moved by the invisible hand of God to do the same.

Happy Holidays, eh?

http://www.julianayrs.com

Prophecy...a gift from God!

In the Business Section of the LA Times, a writer for "Consumer Confidential", reported that he threw caution to the wind recently and jauntily stepped into a "storefront" establishment that offered "psychic readings" - to, as he demurely put it:

"Take a look at those who employ other-worldly means to help people prepare for the inevitable."

After lamely noting that an initial consultation for sixty dollars became a prolonged sales pitch for a five-hundred and seventy-five dollar "psychic cleansing" - which the young woman, Crystal, insisted was needed to restore his gloomy aura to its previously golden hue - he proceeded to cast aspersions on the "forecast" industry populated by psychics, astrologers - and the like - who use their talents to tap into the mysterious spirit world to conjure up messages from the other side.

If Mr. Lazarus departed the young seer's shop with a bad vibe in his aura, it's obviously due to his own negative "karma", in my estimation.

After all, he clearly was remiss in his duty as a journalist.

Judging from the ramblings of his expose, it's evident little constructive research was carried out; nor was there a fair open-minded approach to the subject.

In sum, Lazarus took an unkind swipe, which was unjust and uncalled for.

But, I guess a "Witch Hunt" is to be expected at Halloween.

When I was a teenager, I was fascinated by the occult.

Because of my own unique, childhood experiences - and due to an obvious uncertainty about the future - I became a seeker.

At first, my spiritual travels led me into the arcane arts.

The field of palmistry was particularly intriguing.

One of the best texts to use for a guide on the topic is by noted palmist, Cheiro.

He was one of the most famous and colorful occult figures of the early Twentieth Century - a clairvoyant who used palmistry, astrology, and Chaldean numerology - to make startlingly revelations about future world events.

Cheiro was often coached into summoning forth predictions for a handful of celebrity clients - stage legend Sarah Bernhardt, literary giant Oscar Wilde, and the highly-regarded, Duke of Windsor - to name a few.

Yes, he predicted the abdication from the Throne!

Did you know that psychologist - Carl Jung - examined the hands of tots to verify the presence of "Down Syndrome" ?

When I mapped the squiggly lines creasing my own palm, and compared them to diagrams in texts, I was startled to discover that so many of the principles and theories in his slim book held up.

Not content to base my conclusions on one set of mutts, I plucked up the sweaty palms of numerous friends, and was taken aback when they assured me my insightful dabblings rang true.

My foray into the I-Ching was equally as productive.

The I-Ching, is a calculated method of identifying order in what seems like chance events, and is central to a philosophy at the heart of Chinese cultural beliefs.

The Querent tosses three coins - or yarrow sticks - in logical sequence.

By way of a hexagram, the subject is able to fathom improbable influences - and hence - plot a course to wisely effect a positive change in harmony with the forces of nature.

In sum, the I-Ching is a tool of Divination, capable of tapping into the synchronistic undercurrent that touches and orchestrates all life.

The ritual is not a parlor game and should be approached with solemn respect.

Eventually, when the word spread around the neighborhood about my own psychic stirrings, I was forced to set aside appointment dates to meet the demand for private consultations.

In time, the Vancouver Sun wrote a feature on me, and delved into the fascinating topic with remarkable insight.

On the heels of this article, a National Tabloid mailed me prints of three anonymous hands to peruse; when my analysis was right on the mark, the editors excitedly published a report on the results.

The phone rang off the hook, after that.

A short time later, I was invited to appear on a popular morning TV Show - "Tomorrow's Fortune" - at CKVU in Vancouver, B.C.

Anonymous callers dialed in each day and asked a question; at which point, I'd offer up responses based on a three-point Tarot card lay-out on the podium before me.

Oftentimes - callers let out a gasp - or cried out, "Yes, that's true!"

Within minutes the switchboard would light up and operators invariably struggled to keep on top of the onslaught of frenzied calls.

Of course, the Tarot cards are only a focal point for the concentration; ultimately, the messages are triggered by, and spring from, the deep recesses of the all-knowing subconscious mind.

When the popular morning show finished its run - I continued to coach clients spanning the far reaches of the globe - usually on issues pertaining to pressing business deals or those intimately related to the secrets of the heart.

One day, without warning, I was blessed with an epiphany of sorts.

As a matter of record, it should be noted, that I studied Buddhism and Yoga for a number of years.

I gleaned much from the teachings of the Great Masters; in particular, Lao Tzu, the father of Taoism.

But, after much soul-searching - and an awakening - the Holy Spirit urged me to return to the Catholic faith.

In a startling, mystical encounter last fall, the Holy Trinity descended upon me late one dark night and blessed my heart.

At this juncture, I was forced to reevaluate my involvement with the esoteric and other-worldly pursuits.

I came to the conclusion that - shuffling cards brimming with symbolic meaning, peering into ominous swirls of tea leaves, and the reading of "limbs" - simply amounted to a lot of tom-foolery in the black arts.

Shortly after that revelation - during a reading of the scriptures one day - there was a moment of illumination.

It hit me like a bolt of lightning, in fact.

The gifts of prophecy, of healing, and the speaking of tongues, are precious gifts from God.

In the scriptures it notes as follows:

1 Co 12:8

For to one is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom; to another the word of knowledge by the same Spirit;

1 Co 12:9

To another faith by the same Spirit; to another the gifts of healing by the same Spirit;

1 Co 12:10

To another the working of miracles; to another prophecy; to another discerning of spirits; to another divers kinds of tongues; to another the interpretation of tongues:

However, the "gifts" must be used wisely.

The gifts of prophecy and healing, for instance, are not to be used for profit, to acquire fame, or to set into motion motives for selfish gain.

Just as surely as the precious gift may be bestowed upon a disciple - by the Divine Grace of the Lord - it just as swiftly may be snatched away from a young prophet because of misuse.

In addition, it should be wisely noted, that the gift must always be attributed to the Lord.

A case in point.

Last fall, the Church of the Good Shepherd sponsored a healing mass.

A firm believer in the "healing arts", I attended with great enthusiasm.

But - I was jolted into reality when the "faith healers" laid their "hands" on the subject - without undertaking proper precautions.

Moreover, it was evident to me by the dramatic "showiness" of the occasion - and the bold assertions by the practioners that the subjects would be "healed" - that I was forced to admit their efforts were entirely misguided.

To give false hope to the sick and needy is a mortal sin!

In essence, the Healing was a "sham".

When placing the "hands" on a subject, there must be a prayer to the Lord requesting that the "healing" be granted.

Notwithstanding - during the "laying-on" of the hands - the "disciple" must concentrate on Christ and the healing power of the Saviour's Love.

When spiritulists allege verbal communications with the dead - it annoys me somewhat - too.

For instance - some celebrated "mediums" step into the spotlight on a myriad of slick, enticing TV Shows - alleging to have had conversations with "spirits" who have passed over to the other side.

In spite of the fact the loved ones departed this realm decades ago!

According to Buddhists, when a sentient being passes away, the soul is reincarnated immediately into another body.

So, in this scenario, it would be impossible for "sensitives" to realistically engage in such an activity.

However, in some instances, it is wholly possible to make contact with a spirit for a brief period shortly after a release from the physical body.

The reason for this is quite simple.

In the scriptures, it states quite emphatically that the spirit hovers between this realm and the next for seven days after death.

Some assert, that during this time frame, the soul is permitted to contemplate its acts, reflect on earthly existence, and prepare for the next plane.

At times the transition may be difficult, though; especially when the individual died in a sudden, tragic, or shocking manner.

A trauma such as this, requires a period of adjustment, before the soul is able to move on.

Until such time, the spirit may be unable to release "ties".

But the Bible is firm on one issue.

In seven days, the soul rises up, to come face to face with God.

To meet the maker?

So, today, I use my gifts quietly.

After all, I'm only dancing on this earth for a short while.

I lend a healing hand to one in need, or offer up advice to a stranger when there is a window of opportunity, to do so.

As much as possible, I endeavor to be an instrument of God; ultimately, allowing his invisible hand to work through me, whenever possible.

Amen!