God and Religion #4

My wife and I were married in that nice Catholic church in Redondo Beach California on a warm summer day in the year 2000.

It was a traditional service with a full blown mass. Friends read off scripture and we took communion. We lit candles and sat, kneeled and stood our way into holy matrimony.

After the wedding, we went back to our non-church going ways. We "believed" in God and Jesus and all the typical Christian things. We went to mass like any other good catolic... On Christmas and Easter.

We quickly found a house to purchase and moved from our rental to a small community about 50 miles east of Los Angeles.

I was assigned to a new unit at work where I met a person who would play a vital roll in my roller coaster ride through Christianity.

Dan, my superviosr, is a hardcore, devout, bible believeing, evangelical, christian. It's no exaggeration to compare him to the likes of Ned Flanders from the television cartoon The Simpsons.

He invited my now pregnant wife and I to his home.

This invitation would eventually change everything.

Feb. 17th 2009 God And Religion part 3

The years went by after I lost my mother. I ended up living in a small house in Torrance California. My roommate and best friend of all time Steve and I used to go to his Church like all good Catholics do... Around Christmas and Easter every year. We even went one step beyond that, and went to a few "Youth Masses" on Sunday nights. It had a little more upbeat music, and wasn't crawling with half-dead old people.

St. Lawrence Martyr Catholic Church is a beautiful place of worship in Redondo Beach, Ca.

I liked St. Lawrence so much that I married my lovely wife there. I remember that they made us jump through a few hoops in order to be allowed to have our wedding there. We had to meet with one of the Priests, (lucky for us it was the young one, Father Chris, the cool one) and discuss several topics that the church holds firm to. Topics like premarital sex, contraception, and raising children in the Catholic Church.

By contraception, I mean the lack of it. The Catholic Church made it very clear that it is a sin against God for a married couple to use any kind of birth control whatsoever. Married sex is sacred, and to be enjoyed by the husband, wife, and Jesus. That's right... Jesus too...

Father Chris explained to us (while using a dry erase board) how to successfully utilize the "rhythm method", also known as the "Pull and Pray", or "only have sex a few days prior to the monthly time when the Mrs. has to use products with wings" method.. If you know what I mean....

You see, when a husband and wife have sex, it's not just them in the room. Sex while within the bond of Holy Matrimony is always between a man, a woman, and Jesus.

To this day, I can picture J.C. getting it on with my wife and I in a twisted version of a cosmic threesome....

You ever wonder if J.C. wears underwear under his robe... Well I know...

02/16/09 God and Religion

My family had moved up to Northern California shortly after I went into the Marine Corps in 1993. On Feb. 22nd 1994, I got the call that something was wrong with my mother, and that she was in a small hospital in Watsonville, Ca. I spoke with a nurse, and she advised me that they were doing tests and that I should begin making plans to come up there. I bought tickets for the first flight out of LAX the next morning. But before I even made it to the airport, I had received the word that she was gone.

I have never experienced so much grief and anguish. I prayed that it wasn't so. I prayed to God to not take my mom away. But it was no use, she was gone forever.

We buried her in a small hometown cemetery in Mexico.

It would be almost 10 years before I could even talk about my mom without breaking down in tears.

Over time, I was comforted by the fact that she was in Heaven. She was able to watch over me, and be with me always. Not just in my thoughts, but her spirit was actually with me all of the time. She can hear me. I know this because of what she told me when I was young. Believe in God and let Jesus in your heart, and you will go to heaven. With God all things are possible. She was now my gaurdian angel.

One thing that I've always thought was special is that everyday, in some way, she would show her self to me. Not "actually "Show herself", but she would send me signs.

I would be watching a basketball game and notice that there was only one minute and forty three seconds left in the game, 1:43.

The cost of something was one dollar and forty three cents, $1.43.

It was exactly 14.3 miles to a destination I was driving to.

I kept seeing the number 143 everywhere, everyday. This was special because it was a way for her to tell me "I Love You".

I = 1, Love = 4, and You = 3 letters.

I truly believed without even a shred of doubt that she was telling me that she loves me, and that she was in Heaven with God. Mom could communicate with me from the dead.

It was the only thing that kept me sane. It allowed me to continue without her.

Feb 15th 2009 God and Religion

Let's explore my history as it relates to religion.

I was raised by an Atheist father and Catholic mother. We lived in a poor community just a few miles southwest of Los Angeles.

I was guided by my mothers beliefs. She took my younger brother and I to a nearby Catholic church when we were young. She would attend mass, and my brother and I were sent to Sunday School.

We were really young, and I don't remember a whole lot about the experience. I do remember taking my "First Communion". We had to wait in a long line of kids, and when we got up to the priest, he asked me what sins I had to confess. I told him that I was sorry that I was mean to my little brother sometimes. The Priest made me promise to be nicer, and told me that God would forgive me.

That was it. I was going to get to go to Heaven again!

I remember that the Church was huge. It was cold, and echoed every time someone would drop down one of those little knee pads that people used to kneel on. It felt very sad in there. There was the big statue of Jesus on the cross. His eyes looking up, off to the side, and blood coming from the stakes that were driven into his limbs and the thorns stuck into his head.
Off to the side, there was another statue of Jesus' mom (I think). There were always lots of flowers and gifts and candles burning in front of her. I wondered why we had to dip our fingers in Holy water before entering the Church. I never quite understood the Priest. Most of the time we went to the Spanish Language Mass, and with the echos in the room, and all of the big religious Bible words, I was lost.

One night, my mom (Maria) tucked me into bed. She told me that if I wanted to go to Heaven, all I had to do was believe and let Jesus into my heart, and let him live within me. He would protect me, and guide me. If I did this simple act of faith, I would enjoy everlasting life in Heaven.

I did just that.

I didn't understand much about the Christian Faith. All I knew was that Jesus could talk to God for me, and he would let me into heaven if I believed. Now, if I didn't believe it, well, I would go to Hell.

So I guess the choice was simple. Believe in God or else.

As I grew older, we went to Church less and less. My mother worked long hours as a waitress and rarely had a weekend off, so Sunday Mass was almost always out of the question.

I went through school calling myself a Catholic, not really ever understanding what that met entirely.

In high school, I was exposed to a few different belief systems, but for the most part, Christianity was the norm. I dated a girl who was a Methodist. Her family went to church every week, and volunteered their time during church functions. I got involved with their youth group, and we had a lot of fun. One summer we went up to the tip of Northern California and helped make repairs on the home of a Native American family as a part of Habitat For Humanity. We were up there for just over a week, and we stayed on a church campus. We prayed, and fellowshiped, and sang Christian songs together. All in all it was a very uplifting and positive time for me. I didn't really learn a lot about theology or the basic doctrine of the Christian faith, but I did learn how nice it was to have fun, and be with other kids in a positive and productive environment. I had a great time, and it was a part of church! Wow, why wasn't Catholic stuff fun like this?

Even so, I held on to my Catholic identity all through high school. During my sophomore and junior years, I spent a lot of time with friends who were part of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, (aka Mormons or LDS). The school I went to, (El Segundo High) had a large population of Mormons. With a student body just under 800 at the time, I would say that anywhere from 150 to 250 of the students were Mormon. Now, that's just a complete guess on my part. It could be more, it could be less, but the point I'm trying to make is that there were a lot of Mormon kids.

Many of my closest friends in high school were Mormons. I participated in a youth play and musical every year called "Roadshow". I went to all of their church dances, and spent a lot of time with them. Many of these dear friends I still talk to today. Thanks to Facebook and the internet, I can stay in contact with many of my friends from this time.

One thing that I remember is that they never pressured me to join their church. No one ever tried to convert me, or get me to go to Sunday services. There was never any "sales pitch" or witnessing or anything. They knew I was a Catholic, and they were good with that. We were just normal kids and we had lots of fun together.

All through childhood and after high school I had a very loose and non-descript religious foundation. Looking back on it, I was more of a Monotheist than a Catholic. I believed that there was one God who created everything in the universe. This God was able to watch over me, and hear me, and was in control of things all over the Earth all the time.

But that was about it. I didn't really even learn about the Holy Trinity until later. I don't even remember if I knew that God and Jesus were the same person (being).

But I did believe in God, and Jesus. And I asked him into my heart, so I was good. Right? If I were to get crushed by a bus, I would get to go to Heaven. Even if I had to have a little layover in pergatory (which I really didn't understand either).

My Senior year and for a little while after high school I dated a wonderful girl who will always hold a special plcae in my heart. She ws Catholic too, but was a lot like me in that for her, the world didn't revolve around the church. We didn't really get into discussions about faith and doctrine. It was just something that was there, but not an important part of our days.

I ended up going into the Mairne Corps Reserve in early 1993. During boot camp, they allowed us to go to church services on Sunday morings for an hour. My dawg tags said Roman Catholic on them , so of to Sunday Mass I went. Now, I really didn't get much out of these Sundays either. Basically we would sit there as the Priest went through mass. We took communion and prayed for our families back home, and prayed that God would help us throught he rest of boot camp.

And that was it. A lot of crying and homesickness, then back to the barracks where we paid the price for our little vaction from the drill instructors with sweat.

One Sunday, we had Conformation. I "sponsoered" one of my buddies. Don't ask me what that meant because to this day I still don't know, but I do know now that I wasn't "supposed" to sponsor him. I guess, since I hadn't been to confession in like 10 years, I wasn't prepared to sponsor someone. Hell, I wasn't even supposed to take Holy Communion. I found out later that it is a serious sin to take communion without first getting right with God through confession.

Oops. Who knew?

So anyway, after boot camp and several other schools, I went back home to my old life. The Marine Corps had me for about 4 days a month and 3 weeks in the summer. Things were good.

Then one morning in Feburary of 1994, I lost my mom. She died suddenly of a brain anyerisum.

It's an understatement to say that I was devastated. It was a very dark time for me.

Here is the direct link... Thanks

https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=281071&lis=0&kntae281071=3A79E1ADB0CD418E94FE34C73862EF7B&supId=228239228

Epilepsy Freedom Walk

Those of you that are closer to me know about this new journey we've been on with Epilepsy.

Our youngest son Jason had his first seizure in December of 2007. He had another in January, and since then, we have been riding the epilepsy roller coaster. On November 2nd, we will be participating in the Epilepsy Freedom Walk over at Griffith Park.



Below, I've included some information that I posted on our family donation page for the walk. If you want to join us on the day of the walk, please let me know. And anyone who would like to sponor us with a donation, please follow the link. It will take you to the donation page.



Thanks for taking the time to read about Jason's journey. -Rob



Our wonderful son Jason was diagnosed early this year with a Generalized Seizure Disorder. He began having seizures out of the blue, for no apparent reason. We don't know if his condition will improve as he gets older, or if we will have a lifelong battle with Epilepsy. As a parent, it's terrifying and heartbreaking to witness your child having a seizure. Our prayer is that Jason will grow out of this disorder and live a long, healthy, happy life. But the fact is that it's a very real possibility that he will struggle with generalized seizures for the rest of his life.



November is Epilepsy awareness month. We need to get the word out. You can help by wearing a Lavender ribbon and talking with people at about this disease. Belinda and I, (Rob) ask for your support as we participate in this year's walk. Your donation will help in finding a cure for this dark disease and allow the Epilepsy Foundation Of Los Angeles to help families who are affected by it.



They say that lightening never strikes twice. But for a kid with epilepsy, it could strike dozens of times a day.



We feel helpless. Millions of other parents in our situation feel the same way everyday.



Here is a list of facts that I got from CURE, (An epilepsy awareness group)Epilepsy affects over 3 million Americans of all ages, more than multiple sclerosis, cerebral palsy, muscular dystrophy, and Parkinson’s disease COMBINED.

Almost 500 new cases of epilepsy are diagnosed every day in the United States.

Epilepsy affects 50,000,000 people worldwide.

In two-thirds of patients diagnosed with epilepsy, the cause is unknown.

Epilepsy can develop at any age and can be a result of genetics, stroke, head injury, and many other factors.

In over thirty percent of patients, seizures cannot be controlled with treatment.

Uncontrolled seizures may lead to brain damage and death.

Many more have only partial control of their seizures.

The severe epilepsy syndromes of childhood can cause developmental delay and brain damage, leading to a lifetime of dependency and continuously accruing costs—both medical and societal.

It is estimated that up to 50,000 deaths occur annually in the U.S. from status epilepticus (prolonged seizures), Sudden Unexpected Death in Epilepsy (SUDEP), and other seizure-related causes such as drowning and other accidents.

The mortality rate among people with epilepsy is two to three times higher than the general population and the risk of sudden death is twenty-four times greater.

Recurring seizures are also a burden for those living with brain tumors and other disorders such as cerebral palsy, mental retardation, autism, Alzheimer’s disease, stroke, multiple sclerosis, tuberous sclerosis, and a variety of genetic syndromes.

Epilepsy is the second leading cause of disability and death in children under the age of 14—second only to automobile accidents.

There is a strong association between epilepsy and depression: more than one of every three persons with epilepsy will also be affected by depression, and people with a history of depression have a higher risk of developing epilepsy.

Research on epilepsy has historically been under funded. Federal dollars spent on epilepsy pale by comparison to those spent on other neurological diseases, many of which affect far fewer people than epilepsy.

For many soldiers suffering traumatic brain injury on the battlefield, epilepsy will be a long-term consequence.



Of the above facts, the one that I want you to pay particular attention to is the one that explains that Epilepsy affects more Americans than multiple sclerosis, cerebral palsy, muscular dystrophy, and Parkinson’s disease COMBINED. COMBINED!!!!And it remains seriously UNDERFUNDED!!!!



How many times a year do you hear about different events that support those causes? I participated in the MS150 bicycle ride a few years ago, and thousands of people came out to show their support. It was a great thing to see. Epilepsy awarness should be no different.Please join us in this battle. Help to find a cure for Epilepsy. Let's do it for Jason, and the millions of other kids worldwide like him.

Thanks for your support! -The Golden's





Here is the link that will take you to the Epilepsy Foundation, and our family Donation page.



https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=281071&lis=0&kntae281071=3A79E1ADB0CD418E94FE34C73862EF7B&supId=228239228

My Hutchy 24.Jan.2007

This is a re-posting of a blog I wrote last year. I just wanted to have it on this blog instead of the old one.

My Hutchy 24.Jan.2007

Last night, just after sunset, I worked my way outside to feed my horse, Butch and my dog, Hutch. It was truly a California night. In late January, when most of the country is suffering through cold temperatures and snow, on this evening, we were basking in the glory of another beautiful night. I thought to myself as I walked outside; "Man it sure is nice out". Temps were in the mid to lower 70's and there was a gentle, hardly noticeable breeze coming from the north.

Usually I am greeted first by Hutch, who would playfully run out ahead of me, and show me where his food bowl is. As if without him, I would never know where to put his kibble. Tonight, the lazy dog didn't run out to greet me. I noticed that the gate to the six by twelve chain link dog kennel that I converted into a shed to keep the feed in was open. I figured old, crazy Hutchy was in there hunting for mice or trying to get into his food bin. It was getting dark, and I couldn't really see if he was in the kennel or not. As I got closer, I discovered that he wasn't there.I fed big Butch, and topped off his water. Still no sign of Hutch."I wonder if he got out through the gate", I thought to myself.

I visualized him carelessly running around, watering the neighbor's flowers. I knew he would never attack or do anything to anyone. He's 10 1/2 years old, and really grown into such a mellow, loving dog. But still, when people see a rottweiler running around loose, they tend to get a little nervous. No thanks to the media, and bad image that has been associated with the breed in recent years. If he was out, I'd have to make sure to find him before someone else. They might call the police, and who knows what an officer might do to protect the public from an "unsecured man eating rottweiler".

I focused my attention on the gate that leads to our yard. It looked closed. I walked closer. Then, I noticed a dark object lying in the dirt against the side of our home. "Hutchy, come on..." He was motionless. "Come on buddy. Hey Hutch..."He was dead. He looked like does when he sleeps, his jaw resting on his front right arm. I touched him, and felt his side. He was still somewhat warm. His extremities moved freely and without any signs of stiffness. He had just passed. Probably at the exact moment that I was enjoying the warmth and beauty of this gorgeous Southern California night, he was taking his last breaths.I wonder if he heard me at the door, got excited, tried to get up, then had some kind of heart attack. I wonder if he got into something poisonous. What could have taken him so quickly.

Earlier that day my wife and kids gave him a bath and played ball with him in the warmth of the day.His last day was full of doggie treats and playing fetch. He didn't suffer, which is a good thing I suppose. His sister (yes, you guessed it "Starsky") was diagnosed with bone cancer last summer. She suffered with pain for months. We had her on pain medication that made her feel better, but sucked all the life out of her. We lost her in mid December. For ten years, since the day he was born, Hutch had Starsky with him every single day. In the days after she was gone, I caught him standing where she used to lay. He would sniff around the area, then howl. He would sniff the air with his nose up, and howl some more. There is not a doubt in my mind that he missed her. Their whole life Starsky and Hutch were a "pack". Now, he was a pack of one and his mourning was more than clear.

Anyone who claims that dogs don't have feelings or emotions, has never owned a dog that they loved.I had a rotty of my own before I met my wife. On New Years day 1996, I found "Junior" as a stray in south central Los Angeles. He was hungry and scared from a rough night dodging the hail of bullets falling from the sky, fired from the guns of drunk and careless revelers. I fed Junior a chicken sandwich from the vending machine at work. We became instant pals.

Junior was the best dog that ever walked the face of the earth, period. I loved that dog. He was my buddy.

I met my wife, who had two rotties of her own. Starsky and Hutch were still pups when we met. After a somewhat bumpy start, the pack of three rotties was happy, balanced, and healthy.

Hutch was young and strong, and ended up being the alpha of the pack, but that was ok. Junior was older, and so mellow, that he really wasn't interested in being the "leader". He was my dog, and he didn't care about anything else other than me. In return, I protected Junior, and unknowingly or unintentionally was a better "dad" to him than the other two.

Star and Hutchy belonged to my wife, and it showed. They were always more like step-dogs to me.

I lost Junior right around the time the school shooting happened at Columbine High in Colorado. I think it was May of 1999 (does that sound right?). He had developed stomach cancer, and no matter what we did to try to extend his life, it took him quickly and without mercy.I miss Junior even to this day. He was my Old Yeller, Rin Tin Tin and Lassie all rolled into one.

Over the years, Hutch and I grew closer. As he matured, he became more reserved and mellow. He developed a lot of the traits that I enjoyed about my Junior. He would come over and nudge your hand in an attempt to get some lovin'. He loved playing ball, and swimming, and chasing squirrels. He was a good dog.

He was the strongest and most invincible out of the three rotties. Nothing could get him. He got into a pack of disposable razors once when he was a puppy. He ate the entire pack, blades and all. He didn't so much as even get a scratch in his mouth. Nothing ever happened to him. Hutchy was crazy.

He lived a great and full life right up to the end. He was happy, healthy, big and strong. And just like that, he was gone. I'm glad he didn't suffer like Star did, but I wish I could've been there for him. I regret that he wasn't in the house on his bed when it happened. I wish I could've held him when he died like I did for Junior and Star. He deserved that. He was a good boy.

He'll be missed, but I truly believe that he has moved on. I believe in my heart that the Lord does allow animals into Heaven. Don't ask me why I think that. I just feel it's true in my heart. I don't base it upon any particular Bible verse or anything. It's just a sense of peace that I feel about the topic. What would heaven be like if we couldn't enjoy the presence of your loved ones, including our beloved pets? I know Junior and Satrsky and Hutch are running through fields of grass, playing and happy. Together again as an in-tact "pack".

You're a good boy Hutch.

-13 Under The Gun