I Hear You Calling Me

canal beside houses

Photo by Pierre Blaché on Pexels.com

Like a long, lost Love calling from across a foggy sea, I hear you calling to me.
I hear my name coming out of you as though a piece of you is missing. I feel this longing for you that has always been in the deepest recesses of my soul and is now getting louder. Sometimes I want to experience you so badly that I cry at night.
Be still, my soul.
Only you are not a man that I would have known you, but a country, a nation. You are a culture that calls to me as though I know your name and have spoken your language.
I have not.
The only thing I know of you is that you call to me, in the middle of the night, in my dreams, when I hear a song sung out in your language. When I see pictures of your fashion houses and your Palace of Versailles it stirs something within me. I love you but I don’t even know you. But you call me as if I do.
I long to visit you, inhaling deeply of your art and tasting of your history. I want to see the paint strokes of De Vinci on your walls at the Louvre. And walk the halls of the Palace of Versailles that your great Louis XVI walked.
Has my love for you always been there?
I believe so.
I believe that I was born with a piece of you in me that I must return. What do I have that you need? What do you have that I need? Is there someone in you that needs to hear what I have to say? Is there someone there that needs something that I have? I feel as though you are missing a piece of your country and that piece is me.
Sometimes I think that I was born on the wrong side of the sea.
I dream of you when the north wind blows and the winter frost stings my ears. I dream of you when I taste the sweetness of a red grape. I dream of you when I see your Eiffel tower so strong and proud. My ears long to hear your language being spoken into them as though life will not be full without it. My tongue yearns to eat from your market place. The souls of my bare feet want to tread upon your vineyards.
You have always been within me. There, hidden in the deepest parts of my soul. Could my love for you come from the knowledge that you are the fashion capital of the world? Perhaps.
Why do you call to me?
What is it that I have that you need? What is it that I can contribute to you and your people?
“Come away with me,” I hear a whisper upon the warm breeze. “Come away with me,” again and again. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop wanting to see you for myself and not just in the movies. What is it about you that intrigues me? Is it your French renaissance that I want to know of?
When I was young and wild you were there calling me. Now that I am mature and wise you are still calling to me.
I have to be careful thinking about you because when I think of you too much it makes me want to sell everything I own and go to you.
I must go.
One of these days I will come to you. One of these days soon this longing will be fulfilled. Soon, I will be on an airplane with you as my destination and I will touch down on your rich soil and drink deeply of your presence.
Outwardly, I blame it on my gypsy roots but inwardly, I know it runs deeper. I know that my Creator placed this longing in me for a reason and I must go and find out why.
Even though your voice, France is the loudest, there are others that call to me as well; Italy, Ireland, and England I hear you, too.
My heart beats for the nations. My heart beats for you. It always has and it always will but until then I will send my letters to you in hopes that you will read them and know that I hear you and I am coming soon.
All of my love,
Angela B. Bowland

Author of More Than a Mud Flap

Follow link to purchase book

http://www.bvirtuesincorporated.com

https://www.amazon.com/More-Than-Flap-Angela-Bowland/dp/1517254930/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?keywords=more+than+a+mud+flap&qid=1572211348&s=books&sr=1-1

Sponsored Post Learn from the experts: Create a successful blog with our brand new courseThe WordPress.com Blog

WordPress.com is excited to announce our newest offering: a course just for beginning bloggers where you’ll learn everything you need to know about blogging from the most trusted experts in the industry. We have helped millions of blogs get up and running, we know what works, and we want you to to know everything we know. This course provides all the fundamental skills and inspiration you need to get your blog started, an interactive community forum, and content updated annually.

Nostalgic Christmas in Montana

20191227_112736-1

Oh, these lazy, after Christmas days. My heart is full as I pour myself a cup of dark, rich, full-bodied coffee. I linger in my country kitchen wearing my Christmas pajamas while snacking on the thumbprint cookies that my mother makes every year. I sip my warm coffee watching a few flakes of snow trying to fall, through the window panes. We have had a very unusually warm Christmas this year in Montana. This is the first Christmas since I was pregnant with my youngest daughter (sixteen years ago) that we have not had snow. The year before last we had a record-breaking snowfall and I had not shoveled so much white slush in my life but this year was different. My eyes take in all of the red and white Christmas decorations knowing that they will soon have to be stored away until next year. The sound of my teenage children playing with their newfound treasures in their bedrooms causes a sweep of gratitude to fill my heart. Quite and empty now, this kitchen looked so different the last few days, filled with laughter and light conversations as my family gathered to love on one another and of course, eat the goodies. My grandson’s giggle alone, made my heart soar. As my middle daughter baked her gluten-free cookies, my oldest daughter telling us of her life in the bigger city where she attends college and my youngest daughter snitches the chocolate covered candies that my mother and older sister make every year for Christmas, my heart sings. I watch as the laughter fills the air and breathe it all in knowing that this too shall pass. The smell of the Coca-Cola Ham, garlic, butter bread sticks, and roasted veggies heightens the senses as we prepare for another Christmas dinner. Every holiday is so different but I’m thinking this one was my favorite. My children would tell you that I say that every year but this one was very special for me.
I honestly wasn’t sure if I would live to see all of my children as either teenagers or grown, live to see us all laughing and enjoying our lives, live to see any grandchildren. I feel too young to be a grandmother at forty-four but I am so blessed with my sweet grandson.
As I stood there, I wondered if this is the life that my Lord was talking about all of those years ago when He refused to leave me down for the count. All of those many moons back when life was not so good and my family was not so overwhelmed with thanksgiving.
My mind takes me to a place a decade before now, which seems like a lifetime ago…

I remember the vision so vividly.

A defeat that had taken place as I lay in the ring knowing that the enemy had me pinned. For some reason, we had been boxing and wrestling at the same time. We had been fighting for what seemed like years with the destiny of generations hanging in the balance but it was that final blow that knocked me on my back. I knew that he had won. Even though he had me pinned to the matt I had no will left to live. I had no desire to move. I had no passion left in my veins. All was gone, drained out with the cold, hard truth. With that final blow of rejection, I was done. I wanted nothing more than to just give him the win and be released of all suffering. I begged God to send someone to raise my children and take my life. He refused me and replied that “The only way is through. You have to go through this to get to the other side, Angela.” The journey promised to be too painful and I did not think that I would survive it. How could anyone survive this? Many things, in this life I could handle but not this. I would have to have been a mountain goat to ascend this terrain. I no longer believed that I was a good wife, mother or person. I no longer believed that I was worth fighting for.
What some don’t understand is infidelity is more than just a man breaking faith with you. It’s more than just cheating. It’s an entire life of rejection as a child only to be accepted by your husband and then rejected completely again. It’s the entire world that you built around your family, children, and home shattered in a split second. The reality that you knew, all becomes smoke and mirrors and your life becomes this vast question of truth and lies.
There is nothing like being broken to cause you to come fully alive.
How could I mother my four children? My son (who is the youngest) was only three at the time. How could I teach them to be good, loving people if I did not believe that I was worth loving anymore?
Some, who have never had to endure this form of rejection, judged me calling me weak and telling me to just get over it but how could one get over having your soul, family, and future torn from your hands?
I remember seeing angels down on the matt screaming at me to “GET UP!” “GET UP!” But I didn’t want to. I wanted to die right there in the arena. I could hear the referee counting “ONE!!!” as he slammed his hand on the matt and the angels again screaming, “GET UP!!!” GET UP!!!” but why would I care if I won this match between me and the enemy? “TWO!” I didn’t anymore. As the referee was fixing to slap his hand down for that final “three,” indicating that the enemy had won, I remember seeing a light figure up behind me to the right. As the enemy was smiling and all of his demons laughing with the knowledge that he had conquered me, I saw Jesus walk in. An overwhelming sorrow came over me and I thought about everything that He had endured on the cross and getting to the cross, for me. He never gave up. He endured it all. He never quit. He never threw in the towel or threw his hands up. For whatever unseen future I had, I knew it was detrimental that I got back up, for my children and future generations. All I did was chose to live another day. I remember in the vision I barely lifted my head and instantly a rush of power overtook me. I could see the fear in the enemy’s eyes as he and his company were taken back as I came up off that matt with a jump. A fighter’s undefeated holler was released through my vocals as I caught my balance. All the angels rejoiced and I could see my Lord smile! I raised both hands, as only a champion would and the enemy knew the battle had been won.
My Lord had given me the strength to fight another day.
That happened to be over 3650 days ago and I am still standing in the strength of my Father.

I believe that I am now living the life that I had to make it through that battle to see. I am seeing my heritage through the birthing of the next generation and my heart rejoices over the steadfastness that only my King could have given.
The sounds of my two-year-old grandson’s little, bare feet and laughter as he tries to chase me around the kitchen island, overflows gratefulness in my soul that I can’t put to words. Listening to the four beautiful, kind-hearted children that I have raised is like a well-orchestrated symphony being played upon my heartstrings. The twinkling lights coming from the spruce tree in the living room, that one of my faithful girlfriend’s and I harvested a few weeks back, lights the atmosphere with warmth and I smile.
The smell of a victorious life permeates the kitchen and I think…
This, this is why I had to get back up.
All my love,
Angela

The Lord reigns, let the earth rejoice; let the many coastlands be glad!

Psalm 97:1

Follow link to purchase book authored by Angela B. Bowland

http://www.bvirtuesincorporated.com

https://www.amazon.com/More-Than-Flap-Angela-Bowland/dp/1517254930/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?keywords=more+than+a+mud+flap&qid=1572211348&s=books&sr=1-1

A Life Well-Lived

close up photo of camera

Photo by KML on Pexels.com

A life well-lived is a life worth living. Isn’t this what we all desire to accomplish in this life?

Last night I was torn between going to work and leaving my children to decorate our Christmas tree or calling in sick. We had chosen a new country, red and white plaid Christmas theme for this year and I wanted to finish what we had started together. I chose responsibility over emotions and started getting ready for work. It was still light enough outside to see the snowcapped, Rocky Mountains. The air was crisp as I started my S.U.V. I mixed up a thermos full of sweet, creamy coffee to keep me awake until my shift was over. Winter is coming and the Montana sky was lit up with the presence of the full moon rising. As I left my house, my heart sank a little and I swore that one of these days I would never have to leave my children to wait tables again. I knew that I had also been saying that for over twenty years. Even though my two youngest are almost grown, I still don’t like leaving them alone.

I had struggled all week with wondering if I was being a good mother. Were my efforts enough? Was I doing enough? Was I spending enough time with each of them, separately? Was I working hard enough? Was I planning for our future adequately enough? Was I making enough money? Was I saving enough? Was I enough?

I wondered what kind of man my son would become if I could not model a good father for him? What kind of example was I to my daughters when it came to marriage? How will they ever know what a healthy relationship looks like? Am I making the right choices? Do I love them enough? Am I disciplining them enough? How can I be mom and dad all at the same time?

I have been a single mom for years but it doesn’t get any easier. Every day is a new struggle. There are days that I question if I am irrevocably screwing my children up.

I got to work and the Christmas lights were lit. The other waitresses had set up and decorated the Christmas tree during my time off. The fireplace was lit offering a warm glow to the one couple that was enjoying its warmth. Because the restaurant was slow I decided to continue making my 3D snowflakes and drink my coffee until more customers came in. I pulled out all of my supplies and put them on the bar counter and started cutting the paper and taping the edges, wanting to be crafting at home with my children.

After about an hour of making snowflakes, two couples came in and sat at a high top close to the window (even though it was dark, the vast reservoir of water outside could only be seen by the light of the glowing moon). After our initial meet and greet the older couple let me in on the occasion. The two couples were celebrating the three month anniversary of the younger couple (who were probably fifteen years older than me). I wasn’t sure if I had heard correctly.

To me, man-made love is a cold and a broken hallelujah. To start over so late in life (relying on a man to fill this inner longing) would be a night mirror for me but they seemed happy. Of, course they were only three months in. I try not to be a cynic when it comes to man’s love but I guess I am. I believe in God’s unfailing love but not man’s love.

I’m pretty sure that I stood in front of their table a little too long processing my thoughts because when I looked up they were all looking at me. “Can I get you anything besides water to drink”? I fumbled my words out trying to rescue myself from my hollow stare and full mind.

After two and a half hours of steak, crab, scampi, wine, chocolate mousse, coffee, laughter, and a few live guitar solos they decided to call it a night.

The older gentleman came up to pay the bill and opened up to me about being pre-diabetic. He then proceeded to tell me that he had undergone open-heart surgery and chemotherapy for cancer he had in the years gone by but that he was so grateful.

I then saw something different in his eyes. A great joy came over him and he told me that he was seventy-seven and that he had lived a great life. He had been married over forty plus years, had five wonderful children and fourteen grandchildren and they were all good people and if it was his time to go then he was ready because he had lived such a blessed life.

Flashes of the last ten years and all that my children and I had gone through quickly flickered through my mind. I thought about my two fathers and my grandfather and how they were all gone now. I thought about all of the loss and pain that my family had endured. I thought about all the times that the children and I had become homeless and the times that I couldn’t afford food. I thought about the good times and the bad as though my entire life flew before my eyes from this one conversation with this older stranger. As this grandfather figure poured out his emotions to me I thought of my own grandfather.

Something gripped my heart and I wondered what my life would have been like if my grandfather or my fathers were still alive or if any of the important men in my life had still been present.

The water welling up in his eyes made my eyes water too, “You know, not everyone can say that. Your life has been a huge blessing,” I said feeling choked up. And he said that he knew that. And said again how he had been so blessed.

The night-cold hit me as I untied my apron strings while leaving work. With a lump in my throat, I wondering how many people could actually say that they had lived a life well-lived. The road was dark and the frost was heavy on my car windshield as I prayed I’d get to town before I ran out of gas. How many people could honestly rejoice for having lived a great life?

I knew my own answer to that question.

I once asked God to show me what my life would have looked like if my husband would not have committed adultery. He told me “No”. I asked Him “Why” and He said, “Your heart couldn’t handle it.” This was only one event on my timeline that rerouted my life. We all have plenty of those.

I could only imagine that my life song would have been sung out something like this older gentlemen’s had last night if everything in my life had aligned with God’s will.

I know that God works for the good in all those who are called according to His purpose. I also know that in this life there is heartache and pain. We live in a fallen world. It’s real and it hurts. And sometimes the kiss of sorrow unwittingly invades our lives but God can take everything that we’ve been through and turn it around to be used for our good.

There is still hope.

Last night driving home I thought about my life and imaged how it would have gone if I had lived it well. I thought about a loving grandfather who would have been there for me while growing up. I thought about a long, happily ever after. I thought about finding that little, white farmhouse that I had always searched for. I would have raised all four of my children in those safe walls while teaching them how to garden. I thought about my husband coming home from a long day of work and me in the kitchen baking bread, barefoot and him seeing me as young and beautiful as the day we had met. I thought about celebrating our grown children and grandchildren together. I thought about my girls, all grown up and my son growing into a man with a wife and children of his own. I thought about spring flowers and fresh clean sheets on the clothesline, sunshine and an herb garden. Me living a simple little farm life.

But that’s not my story.

I cannot change the past or the decisions of others. I cannot change the fact that all the men in my life will never leave a Godly legacy for my son. I cannot change the choices that I or others have made. However, I can choose every day to make wise choices. I can choose to love my children and myself. I can choose to give this life my very best and pray to God that my children will always follow Him and continue to be good people. I can only hope that they will apply all the lessons and values that they have been taught. I pray that they will remember all the good things while processing the bad. I can’t change any of it but I can choose to leave a Godly legacy for my children through my life song and hope to God that it somehow impacts their lives and that they pass it on to the next generation.

From this day forward I can take a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other and keep going. I can choose to believe that I am giving it my all. I can choose to embrace the calling that’s on my life and learn to dance with the sway of the Holy Spirit and not against it.

I can choose to love like there was never a yesterday, drink deeply of today and live like there is no tomorrow.

I can choose to live a life well-lived if I choose to see the good in everyday surroundings. No matter what road I have traveled.

Life doesn’t always turn out the way that we had planned but if we look closely we can see the beauty in all things.

My children and I finally got our tree decorated and it’s beautiful.

All my love,

Angela B. Bowland

Author of

More than a Mud Flap

Follow long to purchase book

https://www.amazon.com/More-Than-Flap-Angela-Bowland/dp/1517254930/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?keywords=more+than+a+mud+flap&qid=1572211348&s=books&sr=1-1

http://www.bvirtuesincorporated.com

No Other Love Will Do

man walking on road with orange bag surrounded by trees

Photo by Emre Kuzu on Pexels.com

No Other Love Will Do
There is a place hidden deep in a woman’s heart, a sacred place that only she knows.
As I write this, I’m finally sitting down with a strong cup of coffee in my freshly cleaned house. The brownies are in the oven, the pellet stove is lit and the children are content. As I was walking home from church this afternoon in the rain my heart kept going back to this place of longing. I was trying to ignore it by slowly browsing the downtown window displays. As I was processing the pastor’s sermon, this longing would not be silenced. It was like a resounding gong that started beating low and slowly got louder in my inner soul. I kept thinking of this post that I saw on Facebook of this Viking and his woman and knew it had sparked something unknowingly within. I browsed the freshly painted shop windows and noticed the cool rain on my skin as I walked down the main street. I allowed my thoughts to take me deeper. Christmas is coming and the white lights are starting to overtake the autumn decorations. I decided to walk home through the leaves in the park knowing that soon they would all be covered by inches, if not feet, of snow. Winter in Montana is no joke. As I kicked the leaves, this tugging on my heartstrings kept taking place and so I hesitantly allowed it to come into the forefront of my mind. “I long to be fought for.” Ok, I wasn’t expecting that. After my divorce, I had closed off that place in my heart so no one, not even me, could trespass on that sacred ground again. “I so desperately long to be fought for.” Seriously, heart, today is not the day for you to start calling to me! I chastised myself for even thinking that the boards were ever going to come off of that place.
“I long for a mighty warrior that will fight alongside me” Ok, now you’ve done it! You’ve crossed the line! I can’t even hear any more of what you have to say today. It’s too painful,” I tell myself, shutting down the longing of my heart, knowing that it’s speaking the truth.
My children needed a day to rest so they stayed home from church and were snug in our warm house. I got inside and decided to do the dishes and make brownies hoping that my chores would take my mind off of this deep cry. I couldn’t stop singing Endless Hallelujah while thinking about the coming seasons, wondering what God had in store for my children and I. The deep tones of my voice rang out filling the kitchen with a sweet melody.
I have been on survival mode for so long that I’ve placed the deepest longings of my heart on the back burner. I guess hoping that they would accidentally burn up while I was cooking dinner one night? They haven’t yet. I guess I was afraid to go into this place emotionally. I felt that I couldn’t trust myself there. My deepest emotions have been ignored for so long that they are starting to surface louder than ever before. I reasoned that if I hid them away than I would never have to deal with them again and never have to take the chance of being hurt again. The walls I had put up were very high and very thick. Briers surrounded the outside of these walls making sure that my heart was safely locked deep inside but then today…
What some people don’t understand about going through a divorce is that when you have already met the man of your dreams and he becomes your worst nightmare your heart can’t handle the assault. Your mind goes into shock and your heart goes into a cocoon state trying to preserve the little girl inside, hidden, broken, devastated. The trauma of it all is like a defibrillator working in reverse. After this kind of violent act occurs most hearts don’t survive or learn to beat again but here I am ten years on the other side of the affair, five years on the other side of separation, two years beyond the divorce and the deepest recesses of my heart decides today to take a deep breath. It’s alive! I have honestly been afraid of trying to resuscitate this part of me.
I don’t talk about my marriage because it was a very sacred walk where I learned the true meaning of love by clinging to the hem of my Lord’s garment. Once a woman has tasted this kind of love nothing else will do. It’s kind of like shopping at Wal-Mart your whole life and then being introduced to Barneys New York. Something in you would never want to go back to Wal-Mart because you’ve tasted and seen the good life.
So, as that little voice in me surfaced today I knew that nothing else but the purest of love would do. I wanted to say to every man out there; be that mighty warrior after God’s own heart with the highest standard of integrity, virtue and honor. Be that warrior who is willing to fight for your woman for no other reason except that she is valued above all others. Love her the way Christ loves his bride and then she will know this kind of love.
I want to say to all the women out there; remember A physical relationship is like watered down coffee. Yes, it might look good in the cup but it’s not going to give you the rich flavor that you desire. He might look like he just stepped out of the Magic Mike movie but is he faithful? He might go to church but is he wrecked for Christ? He may say a little mealtime prayer but is he fresh from the fight? If he is not face down at the altar, pursuing God with everything in him it’s not worth it. It’s a counterfeit kind of love.
In this time, in this day women have become an object to use for man’s pleasure but for those men out there who truly want to understand women, understand this; there is a little girl’s heart in all of us who desperately longs to be fought for. We need a man who is willing to fight not only for us but alongside us in this life. We are not just curvy creatures without emotions, dreams, and desires of our own. We have a purpose and a plan in this life. We sell ourselves short because we don’t know that we are worthy of a greater love, the purest love, the kind of love that one only reads about, the kind of love that doesn’t exist in modern-day society anymore, the kind of love worth fighting for.
Even though I did not want to hear what my deepest longings were trying to express to me today, I know that they are right. I am worthy of a greater love and I am worth fighting for.
I refuse to settle for anything less than God’s very best for me again.
Angela B. Bowland
Author of
More Than a Mud Flap

Follow link below to purchase book-

https://www.amazon.com/More-Than-Flap-Angela-Bowland/dp/1517254930/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?keywords=more+than+a+mud+flap&qid=1572211348&s=books&sr=1-1

http://www.bvirtuesincorporated.com

I Have a Dream

“AMERICA, LET MY PEOPLE GO!”

american flag close up design flag

Photo by Octavio Suarez on Pexels.com

I stand for freedom!

I quote Martin Luther King Jr., “I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up, live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”
On this day I rise up and demand that America hold these truths to be self-evident that “ALL men (and women) are created equal!

Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream to free the enslaved. I also have a dream to free the enslaved. Only I do not speak of the slavery of color or skin but the slavery of women and children through the human trafficking (sex trafficking) industry.

Our nation is still enslaved today to a form of slavery that binds women and children to do the will of the taskmaster.
I am here to say in the words of Moses who stood before a great nation and demanded from Pharaoh, “LET MY PEOPLE GO!”

I stand before the great nation of America and demand, “LET MY PEOPLE GO!”
I am demanding that our nation take a bold stand in combating the grave injustice of human trafficking!

Human Trafficking is now the second-largest underground industry in the United States fixing to bypass drug trafficking for first.

What has our great country become?

Women’s bodies are being sold and used to pleasure mankind. This is not what we were created to do. We, women, were created in the image of God to bring forth life upon this earth.

Have we lost all value for humanity?

Come on America! You are greater than this! Honorable men have died for Your glory!
We, the people demand more out of you! Our grandfathers, fathers, and husbands have fought and given their lives for YOU! We demand that you not only be worthy of the lives of our loved ones but be worthy of fighting for! You were founded upon great moral standards. You are the “home of the free and the land of the brave.”

I challenge you to become a county worthy of the honor of Your people!

I have a dream that one day all women and children will be treated equally. That all women will be seen as human beings and not as sexual objects. I dream of a day when women rise up out of those beds and take the shackles off, shutting down all pornography sites.

A day where women remember their childhood hopes and dreams, remember who they were before they undressed themselves to the wanting eyes of this country.

Women of America put your clothes back on!

I have a dream where everyone woman awakens to her God-ordained calling and rises up out of her nakedness and clothes herself with strength and dignity, making her royal garments her coverings. I dream of a day where women realize that they have a God-given right to their bodies and realize that they can break every agreement that states otherwise, understanding that they are more than skin deep.

I have a dream that all children will be able to live out their lives to the fullest capacity and die of old age and not by the hands of an abuser.
The average life span of a woman who has been sex trafficked is seven years. I can only imagen that it is less for a child.

Every single one of those women and children had a God-ordained purpose to fulfill. These precious humans had a mission and calling to complete, a vital role to play in this county.

I have a dream that every woman and child would be able to have a chance at this life. That they would have an opportunity to take that first breath, to hear the sound of a mother’s lullabies (birth mother or other), to feel the true love of a faithful embrace and see the sun rising over the vast Rocky Mountains.

I dream of rescuing all of the women and children that are being kidnapped and exported to other countries. I dream of a day when the talons of the taskmasters are demanded to loose themselves from our country.

I dream of binding up the brokenhearted and setting the captives free.
I dream of a day when our country realizes all the great men who have gone before it and established the work of God’s hands. I dream of good men (hero’s) of our county, having enough of the injustice and rising up to their God-ordained position as Protectors of the Innocent.

I believe if we women, who are called by His name would humble ourselves, pray and seek the face of our Creator and turn from our part in allowing others to use our bodies that Jehovah Rapha would hear our cries from heaven and would heal our land. (Derived from 2 Chronicles 7:14)

Where have all the good men gone and why is this injustice being allowed to prosper at the fate of women and children?
If our founding forefathers could see our nation now they would cry out in disbelief but then turn and take action.

I am challenging every man in this country, under the influence of my words to rise up and take a stand for women and children!

We need you men of courage! We need heroes who refuse to engage in the slavery of women and children and who are willing to rise up and take back the land!

Can you hear your country calling you? Can you hear the cries of the women and children? Who are you and where are you mighty men of God? Our country needs you now! Our children need you now! Our God needs you now! Rise up out of those mistaken identities that have held you captive and put on your armor and fight for those who cannot fight for themselves! If you don’t know where to start then get on your knees and fight this battle in prayer.

I implore you to take hold of your God-given destiny for such a time as this.

In the past, you have been mistaken as “pointless,” “useless,” “unneeded,” throughout the decades of women fighting for their rights you have lost your identity and purpose.

We have also lost.

Being children of parents who were born into the 40’s we were subliminally taught through the domestic roles of our parents that we did not want to be enslaved by any man, which in turn, propelled us in the arms of an entirely deferent taskmaster. We went so far off the deep end with, “Women’s Rights,” that we have overcorrected our statuesque.
We, women, are now on dangerous grounds.

By stripping you of your role as “head of the house” we have entered into an age that we believe we can do life alone. We protest “Our body, our choice,” etc. and that you are unnecessary for our existence. This could only be the farthest from the truth. We were created to complete you, one man, one woman for one lifetime. Through the years these roles have meshed together causing great confusion in our children and society.

We have lost our purpose. We have lost our vision and without vision, we perish.

As a woman, I want to stand in the gap and ask the wounded men in our country to please forgive us. Please forgive us for believing the lies that you are obsolete, that your strength is not needed in this great battle.

We have been deceived.

We, as women, need you. We need you now more than ever to rise up and be the mighty men of God that you are destined to be. To help us shut down the enemy’s attacks on our country, us, as women and our children.

It is time for our roles to align with creation.

It is time for us women to realize that we were created for so much more than to please the eyes of the beholder.

So, again, I take a stand against our fallen nation and I say, “AMERICA, LET MY PEOPLE GO!”

Angela B. Bowland
(Women’s Rights Activist)

Author of More Than a Mud Flap

(follow the link below to purchase Angela’s book)

https://www.amazon.com/More-Than-Flap-Angela-Bowland/dp/1517254930/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?keywords=more+than+a+mud+flap&qid=1572211348&s=books&sr=1-1
No Other Love Will Do
There is a place hidden deep in a woman’s heart, a sacred place that only she knows.
As I write this, I’m finally sitting down with a strong cup of coffee in my freshly cleaned house. The brownies are in the oven, the pellet stove is lit and the children are content. As I was walking home from church this afternoon in the rain my heart kept going back to this place of longing. I was trying to ignore it by slowly browsing the downtown window displays. As I was processing the pastor’s sermon, this longing would not be silenced. It was like a resounding gong that started beating low and slowly got louder in my inner soul. I kept thinking of this post that I saw on Facebook of this Viking and his woman and knew it had sparked something unknowingly within. I browsed the freshly painted shop windows and noticed the cool rain on my skin as I walked down the main street. I allowed my thoughts to take me deeper. Christmas is coming and the white lights are starting to overtake the autumn decorations. I decided to walk home through the leaves in the park knowing that soon they would all be covered by inches, if not feet, of snow. Winter in Montana is no joke. As I kicked the leaves, this tugging on my heartstrings kept taking place and so I hesitantly allowed it to come into the forefront of my mind. “I long to be fought for.” Ok, I wasn’t expecting that. After my divorce, I had closed off that place in my heart so no one, not even me, could trespass on that sacred ground again. “I so desperately long to be fought for.” Seriously, heart, today is not the day for you to start calling to me! I chastised myself for even thinking that the boards were ever going to come off of that place.
“I long for a mighty warrior that will fight alongside me” Ok, now you’ve done it! You’ve crossed the line! I can’t even hear any more of what you have to say today. It’s too painful,” I tell myself, shutting down the longing of my heart, knowing that it’s speaking the truth.
My children needed a day to rest so they stayed home from church and were snug in our warm house. I got inside and decided to do the dishes and make brownies hoping that my chores would take my mind off of this deep cry. I couldn’t stop singing Endless Hallelujah while thinking about the coming seasons, wondering what God had in store for my children and I. The deep tones of my voice rang out filling the kitchen with a sweet melody.
I have been on survival mode for so long that I’ve placed the deepest longings of my heart on the back burner. I guess hoping that they would accidentally burn up while I was cooking dinner one night? They haven’t yet. I guess I have been afraid to go into this place emotionally. I felt like I couldn’t trust myself there. My deepest emotions have been ignored for so long that they are starting to surface louder than ever before. I reasoned that if I hid them away than I would never have to deal with them again and never have to take the chance of being hurt again. The walls I had put up were very high and very thick. Briers surrounded the outside of these walls making sure that my heart was safely locked deep inside but then today…
What some people don’t understand about going through a divorce is that when you have already met the man of your dreams and he becomes your worst nightmare your heart can’t handle the assault. Your mind goes into shock and your heart goes into a cocoon state trying to preserve the little girl inside, hidden, broken, devastated. The trauma of it all is like a defibrillator working in reverse. After this kind of violent act occurs most hearts don’t survive or learn to beat again but here I am ten years on the other side of the affair, five years on the other side of separation, two years beyond the divorce and the deepest recesses of my heart decides today to take a deep breath. It’s alive! I have honestly been afraid of trying to resuscitate this part of me.
I don’t talk about my marriage because it was a very sacred walk where I learned the true meaning of love by clinging to the hem of my Lord’s garment. Once a woman has tasted this kind of love nothing else will do. It’s kind of like shopping at Wal-Mart your whole life and then being introduced to Barneys New York. Something in you would never want to go back to Wal-Mart because you’ve tasted and seen the good life.
So, as that little voice in me surfaced today I knew that nothing else but the purest of love would do. I wanted to say to every man out there; be that mighty warrior after God’s own heart with the highest standard of integrity, virtue and honor. Be that warrior who is willing to fight for your woman for no other reason except that she is valued above all others. Love her the way Christ loves his bride and then she will know this kind of love.
I want to say to all the women out there; remember A physical relationship is like watered down coffee. Yes, it might look good in the cup but it’s not going to give you the rich flavor that you desire. He might look like he just stepped out of the Magic Mike movie but is he faithful? He might go to church but is he wrecked for Christ? He may say a little mealtime prayer but is he fresh from the fight? If he is not face down at the altar, pursuing God with everything in him it’s not worth it. It’s a counterfeit kind of love.
In this time, in this day women have become an object to use for man’s pleasure but for those men out there who truly want to understand women, understand this; there is a little girl in all of us who desperately longs to be fought for. We need a man who is willing to fight not only for us but alongside us in this life. We are not just curvy creatures without emotions, dreams, and desires of our own. We have a purpose and a plan in this life. We sell ourselves short because we don’t know that we are worthy of a greater love, the purest love, the kind of love that one only reads about, the kind of love that doesn’t exist in modern-day society anymore, the kind of love worth fighting for.
Even though I didn’t not want to hear what my deepest longings were trying to express to me today, I know that they are right. I am worthy of a greater love and I am worth fighting for.
I refuse to settle for anything less than God’s very best for me again.
Angela B. Bowland
Author of
More Than a Mud Flap

http://www.bvirtuesincorporated.com

Tell Me the Truth~(FREEDOM)

TELL ME THE TRUTH! (Freedom)

Tell me the truth, for it is the truth that I want to hear, because I know the power and the freedom in it.

This life is real, it’s raw, it hurts, and none of us get out of it alive. So, let us live it free.

“Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing, and let the whole world know that today is the day of reckoning. “

– ”Independence Day” [Martina McBride]

Freedom; some live for it, some die for it, others know it not. Some have chased it only to find captivity. Let us embrace it.

FREEDOM: Liberty, Independence, The State of Being Free.

What is your idea of freedom? Is it a warm, barefoot summer day? Is it steaks on the barbeque? Is it driving in a convertible with no destination and no time frame? Is it a clean house that is completely in order, and stays that way? What do you value as freedom?

I believe in order to have freedom, first there must be something that we need to be freed from.

What is it ladies that we need freedom from? Is it insecurities, discontentment, the fear of failure, or the fear of other’s opinions? What is it that holds us in bondage from walking in true freedom? Why do our hearts ache as we watch others live in freedom?

I remember when I was so desperately trying to get freed from the fear of abandonment, among many other strongholds. Fear had such a strong root in me that at one point, I felt hopeless that it would never release me. I would go back and forth from proclaiming Gods word to agreeing with the captivating thoughts that fear would place in my head. I felt weak against it. I would win one victory, and lose another. The fear of abandonment, for me, was the most difficult stronghold to uproot. Through this time, God brought a scripture to light. “So, wickedness will not release those who practice it.” Bottom part of Ecclesiastes 8:8.

It was then that I realized that I had a choice in this, and I did not have to be a puppet on a string. I could choose not to agree with the fearful thoughts that came into my mind. I had to realize that if I was going to agree with them, that they would become my truth. Evil would not release me if I kept agreeing with these lies, and acting on them. In other words, I kept practicing to be Satan’s puppet. I could choose what I was going to agree with and allow to manifest in my life. As children of the Most High God, we have the authority and strength through Christ to walk away and not practice evil intents. I needed freedom from fear, and through the blood of Christ and the words of my testimony, I found it! I also remember the day that Revelations 12:11 came alive in my spirit. “They overcame by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; etc.”

I realized when Jesus died on the cross, His blood overcame all sin and death, and by the word of my testimony, all I had to do was agree. “Yes, I am free!” I had to keep declaring and decreeing that I was free from all fear, and that by the blood of the Lamb, all power of fear was broken. I wrote down scripture, with which I understood by Hebrews 4:12 was active. “For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul, and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.”

I understood the power of scripture and how it was active and alive. Besides writing every scripture that I could find that was counteractive against fear, I also understood the power of speaking those scriptures out. I knew that Isaiah 55:10&11 was true. “As the rain and snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”

If we could only see the power that our words contain, we would only dare speak positive words over our lives, children, spouses, businesses.

However, I knew this, and declared and proclaimed my freedom. I chose to walk away and not agree with any thought that fear put into my mind. I was not instantly delivered or freed from it, but had to walk it out. I remember when I truly got real with fighting against this fear; it took well over a year and a half to reprogram my mind and its reactions to it. But guess what? One day I realized just how free I had truly become, and how I no longer reacted in the way I had been programed my whole life to think.

Freedom can only be found if you have the formula to plug into the equation, and that formula starts with Jesus Christ, and Him alone.

The ultimate freedom giver is Christ. The ultimate authority in every situation is Christ, and Christ alone.

He is the Savior. He is the Healer. He is the Redeemer. He is the Alpha and Omega. He is the Beginning and the End. He is Lahai Roi (The God who sees me, hears my cries, and delivers me from my power enemies).

True freedom is only found in the maker of freedom. Jehovah sent His son to die for our FREEDOM.

“The thief has come to kill, steal, and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” John 10:10.

This is my definition of freedom; to have a full life. A life without any darkening of the soul, without any strongholds. Freedom is a life filled to the fullness of all that God has for me. A life lived on purpose, and lived to its fullest potential.

Jesus paid the price all we have to do is believe and know that we are free.

“He whom the son sets free is free indeed.” John 8:36

So, let us “take these broken wings, and learn to fly again, and learn to live so free.” (80’s song by Mr. Mister). I’m claiming these lyrics for God’s glory. Let us learn to take the brokenness and stretch out our wings to the fullest extent, soar, and live again.

In reference to “Reduce Me to Love”, chapter 6 “LOVE IS WILLING TO ADAPT AND ADJUST.”

Let us prefer others above ourselves and learn to live a life of freedom.

Happy Healing,

Angela

Angela B. Bowland

http://www.bvirtuesincorporated.comblog pic 2 (2)

Freedom book club for women

I have decided to start a book club for women. The other day I had one of those days where I was questioning my purpose on this earth and I ran away from home, hubby and the kids for the day. I spent hours down by the river in my car, with my book. Crazy thing about being a mom, when we run away from home we usually don’t go that far and we are usually thinking of a way to better our home environment. So, after I delighted myself with a gourmet dinner ( which consisted of a bean and cheese burrito from the Town Pump and coffee), I pondered how I could give back in this life. Then it happened in the middle of a drink of coffee I had a wonderful, terrible idea. What if I started a book club for women and we could choose a book and read it together and share our thoughts and ideas on it? I have been a christian for over twelve years now and when I came to Christ I was so incredibly bound and through reading powerful, Holy Spirit inspired books I have found so much freedom and would love to share my journey with you!!! So, I am going to take this slow because I’ve never blogged before but I am looking forward to a very exciting year sharing my life and journey with all of you.

Angela B. Bowland

http://www.bvirtuesincorporated.com