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	<title>WIRL Project &#187; Fear</title>
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	<description>What It&#039;s Really Like.</description>
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		<title>9/11 Never Forget</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/911-never-forget/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/911-never-forget/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Sep 2015 09:30:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Mandi Johnson]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life/Leisure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[9/11]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[America]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fear]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[patriotism]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[travel]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=8821</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[We should never forget September 11, 2001.  However, we do need to move on, to continue living our lives without fear. I was in the 11th grade sitting in English class.  I remember one slightly eccentric teacher running down the hallway between classes that morning screaming, “We are under attack &#8211; We are at war.&#8221;  Life would never be the same. I presume, to avoid panic on that pristine September day, the school turned off the televisions.  We were stuck to wonder.  It was a world before smart phones.  We scoured the internet during our French class for bits of information, even though the teachers had been instructed to turn them off. September 11, 2001 changed our lives forever.  But, to not let the terrorists win, we must carry on without fear. Shortly after the attack I was selected as a participant for Presidential Classroom.  This week long educational experience  in Washington D.C.  was late winter and just a few short months later.  It was my first time flying alone.  The Reagan Airport had been open about  a month.  I was seventeen. There was a large gaping hole in the pentagon, I flew right over it, saying a prayer for those that were lost. We overcome by living our lives as close to what they were before the attacks as possible.  To continue to travel, fly, go to work. My first job out of college was a Flight Attendant.  Live without fear. We should never forget the lives lost, never forget the tragedy, but also, we should never let them take our freedom.]]></description>
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		<item>
		<title>C: Courage &#8211; What It&#8217;s Really Like</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/c-courage-what-its-really-like/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/c-courage-what-its-really-like/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 06 Jul 2015 07:30:33 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Brody]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life/Leisure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Love/Relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Work/Money]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[ABCs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Bike]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Committment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Confidence]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Conviction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Courage]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Crash]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Faith]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fall]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[fatherhood]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fear]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life Without Training Wheels]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Personal]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Practice]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Training Wheels]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=7314</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[This post is part of a series titled, “A-B-Cs – What It’s Really Like”. Each week a new letter and its word will be revealed. Each word’s explanation will illustrate significant personal meaning, application and ultimately demonstrate, What It’s Really Like…  When is the last time you experienced something that was absolutely terrifying? If you survived it, chances are courage played a factor in overcoming the obstacle. Courage comes in all shapes, sizes and various forms. Some courage is engrained or inherited. Some courage needs to be coached. Some courage requires liquid libations. Regardless of appearance, courage is structured similarly at its core. I thought back to times in my life where courage has played a role in the outcome. Learning to ride a bike, to swim and to drive a car are all occasions where a great deal of courage was required to master certain foreign skills. Courage is linked to three other attributes. I believe each of these words have to occur in order for courage to ultimately be achieved. They also happen to each begin with the letter ‘C’: Confidence &#8211;&#62; Conviction &#8211;&#62; Commitment = Courage My father did not believe in training wheels. This was either because he thought we would learn to ride a bike quicker without them or simply because the matching bikes he bought my brother and I did not come with them. Confidence. He convinced us that all we needed was to trust him and believe that we could ride the bike. Conviction. Was I able to ride without falling my first time? No. In fact, I fell several more times before my father let go of the back of my seat. In order for me to ride without assistance I needed to practice. Commitment. I learned to ride a bike before my parents paved our driveway. The entire driveway was gravel limestone. The stakes were high for learning to ride correctly; otherwise it may result in a deeply skinned knee. My parents did not want me riding toward the road. We would start practice rides at the end of the driveway riding back toward the house. The last thing you are taught when learning to ride a bike is steering. Most of the focus is on balancing the bike while pedaling. As our driveway got closer to the garage the turnaround area, it immediately made a 90-degree turn to the left. The driveway itself sat up on a hill that was graded away from the foundation of the driveway and the house. If you continued to go straight after the driveway ended it would take you down a short grassy hill into the backyard. As I stated before the last thing you think about when learning to ride a bike is steering. Eventually, Dad let go in the driveway and I was pedaling straight down the gravel drive, down off of the grassy hill and into the back yard. The final thing you learn to do when riding a bike is braking.  While riding for the first time down a hill without knowledge or skill to steer or stop the bike I made a bee-line straight for the solid aluminum slide and swing set in the backyard. One of my first solo rides came to an end after crashing into the slide. My first ride was certainly not my last. In this case, getting back up on the bike and riding again is the metaphor we are all looking for. Courage. Courage does not grow as we get older. No matter your age, doubt can loom around every corner. The scariest moments that I can recall in my adult life have been marriage, moving away from home and fatherhood. The hardest parts of my marriage were before it even began &#8211; all of which required me to speak. Asking my wife’s parents for her hand in marriage, proposing and repeating vows from our pastor during the ceremony were most terrifying to me out of fear that I might misspeak and mess up. It took a lot of help from the “three C’s” to give me the courage to stand and deliver in those situations. I will never forget the first night we brought Little B home from the hospital. During our days in the hospital I was instilled with confidence and conviction that I was fully prepared to do whatever was needed to care for our newborn baby boy. These feelings were validated by my wife and nursing staff after I was able to accomplish required tasks in a relatively uneventful two and a half days after he was born. We would be sent home at the normal time. Little B easily acclimated to his new home during the daylight hours. Around the time Mommy and Daddy were ready to turn in for the night he began to cry…and wail…and scream. To this point, I had never heard or seen anything like the sounds or emotions that he was exhibiting. During the near 90-minutes that he cried in my arms I began praying and questioning aloud to my wife, God and whoever else might be listening that the people at the hospital did not know what they were doing and sent us home too early. As his crying continued, I remembered my confidence and conviction that I built taking care of him at the hospital. It didn’t matter to what level I was at in either trait – this child was now ours and I was committed to giving him whatever he needs. I used faith (something that will be written about in a later post) in my abilities to step up and meet the needs of the situation. Courage. I will end with a final thought from a journal of quotes that my late Grandmother kept. I refer to it often and its contents may frequent some of my regular posts. “Don’t be afraid to take a big step when one is indicated. You can’t cross a chasm in two small jumps.” &#160;]]></description>
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		<item>
		<title>Angel Bumps</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/angel-bumps/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/angel-bumps/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 01 Jul 2015 19:00:53 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Anne Bardsley]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Life/Leisure]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Love/Relationships]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Angel]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Angel Bumps]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Butterflies]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Calm]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fear]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Feeling]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Goosebumps]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Guardian]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Guardian Angel]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Heaven]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Passed]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Peace]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sign]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Store]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=7395</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I met my guardian angels over ten years ago. It seems so trite to say it was a time in my life when I was running on empty. Hell, if I was a car, the gas tank would have rusted out completely. There’d have been a huge hole in the bottom that leaked gas as I pumped it in. They were my lost years. I really had nothing left to give…to anyone. My oldest of five, has emotional disabilities. Next in line son, decided to smoke pot and drink beer and get thrown out of school. The three younger ones were busy in every possible sport. I tried therapy, Outward Bound, grounding, talking, family counseling, reasoning and nothing worked. It only made things worse. We also owned our own business and ran the office out of our dining room. There was stress in every room. I went on a retreat with my women’s group to escape and try to refill my rusted out tank. While there we each got a massage. It was very serene with soft music playing and scented candles dimly lit the room. When the masseuse started, I sank into the massage table. My shoulders drooped from my ears. When she put her hand over my heart, my emotions went wild. I must have held so much in that I exploded. I was sobbing and so scared. I thought this must be a nervous breakdown. What the hell? I asked my angels to be with me. Within seconds two angels arrived and my body went pure calm. A feeling of complete peace came over me. I was sobbing and so scared. I thought this must be a nervous breakdown. What the hell? I asked my angels to be with me. The angel on the left stood steady. The one on the right started to turn when I calmed. The crazy feeling came back and I asked for just a few more minutes. She returned. I think what I felt was a slice of Heaven. I felt a type of love that was so encompassing and pure. I was content to stay in that moment forever. I remember thinking about Scott and the kids and for a moment, I thought they’d be alright if I stayed there. I knew I couldn’t do that, but I’d never find that feeling on earth again. After the retreat, I began giving angels to people having a difficult time. At my dentist office, the hygienist’s best friend was dying of AIDS. He got an angel. A friend lost his dad and he was heart -broken. He got a special angel. Newborn babies were given angels to watch over them. I gave out hundreds of angels. My intention was that they would each know the love that I felt in my angel visit. I wanted them to feel that warmth and peace in their heart and soul. After the retreat, I began giving angels to people having a difficult time&#8230; My intention was that they would each know the love that I felt in my angel visit. I eventually opened an angel store. My dad had passed by then a few years prior. I scheduled the grand opening to honor him on his birthday. The day of the opening, I sat at the desk and a bit of panic took over. “What if they all think I’m crazy? What if no one comes?” Just then a little lace angel starting playing the song, Somewhere Over the Rainbow. It was my favorite song my dad used to whistle. Rosie, an elderly woman, who would become a regular customer, tried to buy that angel every time she came in. I’d say, “Rosie, I can’t sell her. She’s my dad’s sign that the store is in good hands.” She grinned and fired back, “How about joint custody?” That was my first angel bump from my dad. There are many others from my dad over the years, but I’m saving them for my book Angel Bumps. After my Mom passed, I was driving to work in tears. I felt a hand on my cheek and I dismissed the feeling, because “What the heck was that?” I asked her for a “real” sign that she was alright on the other side. The light turned green. I made a right turn and within a minute, my car was surrounded with little white butterflies. It looked like a blizzard. I laughed out loud. “I got it, Mom!” I still get chills when I think of that day. That, my friends, is another Angel Bump. Since that time, a white butterfly arrives when I missing her. When my son graduated high school, my mom had been gone nine months. She would have been at the graduation with a big smile on her face. I was so sad that morning. I was having tea on our front porch when she flitted by. She proceeded to follow our family to the car, circling the front window, and then almost got in the car with us. My teens all knew about Nan’s sign so they were excited that “Nan is coming with us today!” At my son’s garden wedding rehearsal, she danced between him and his fiancé as they practiced their vows. I cried through the entire rehearsal wishing she could really be sitting with us. She was there in spirit, front and center. My mom loved, loved, loved her daughters and grandchildren. She never met any of my grandkids. A few weeks ago, my daughter called to tell me her twenty- month-old son had been playing in the back yard when a little white butterfly arrived. He chased her for half an hour, giggling with laughter. She’d fly high and low and buzz around him. He was totally engaged, loving this game. He never met my mom. He was calling the butterfly Nan. That is her Grandma name. A few weeks ago, my daughter called to tell me her twenty- month-old son had been playing in the back yard when a little white butterfly arrived. He chased her for half an hour, giggling with laughter. She’d fly high and low and buzz around him. He was totally engaged, loving this game. He never met my mom. He was calling the butterfly Nan. I decided to write Angel Bumps because I know the feeling I get when I get a sign. I can be having a really bad day and here comes that little white butterfly and I am on top of the world. I want others to experience the joy of realizing that people we think we’ve lost forever are still so close. The signs come to us. We have to be aware and believe. I have many others signs that I’ll save for the book. My hope is that after you read our shared stories, you will begin to notice your signs and feel the love they are sending. Once you have an Angel Bump, you will never be the same. You will know for sure, you are never…ever… alone. Each story is unique and will been shared with love. Please share your (1200 &#8211; 1500 word) stories if you are willing to be featured in Angel Bumps. Contact me at myangelbumps@gmail.com with your stories or questions. The deadline is July 31, 2015. Thanks so much and bless your hearts!]]></description>
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