Good News and Better News … December 28th, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog


Good News Fulford jpeg

Rarely do we find ourselves abused by the Devil from Hell, nor steered by the Lord of the Heaven.

Most of the time, we are situated smack-dab in the middle of our own whim or lack of planning.

It really is good news.

It would be a miserable thought–to believe that we mortals are part of a cosmic chess game between good and evil, and more often than not, end up being the sacrificial pawn.

This little piece of joy came to my mind this week as I arrived in South Florida to celebrate the birth of Jesus with my family, work on my blogs, make plans for the coming year, and do two gigs in the area.

Honestly, I had some apprehension about being able to pull off all the stipulated events with the amount of professional quality and personal touch I felt was necessary. But fortunately for me, I’ve been granted the grace of having a wonderful group of sons, daughters-in-law and grandchildren, who seem to be functioning quite well on the auto-pilot of faith.

In other words, I didn’t need to do nearly as much as I thought I would. Therefore, I was much more qualified.

On the other hand, making plans for the coming year to enhance my program, enriching the results, is a labor of love to me. The Gospel is always good news, but it is refreshing to find a way to make that revelation even more inspiring and easy to understand.

So by the time I arrived at my two performances on Sunday, I was itchy to share my heart.

The fine folks in North Miami, pastored by a delightful young man named Nathan, welcomed us with open arms, even though I’m sure we appeared at first to be strangers.

I just happen to believe that in the pursuit of loving your brothers and sisters, the best route to achieving such a sublime experience is to seek out commonality. My dear God, we have so much in common.

So by the time I got to my Sunday evening performance, I was prepared to relish the people around me, and was especially invigorated because the venue is a new church plant pastored by my son, Jerrod.

He’s always had a calling in his life, although, like many of us, it seemed a little in the distance from the everyday chores of maintaining life and limb.

But now–he’s launched.

About thirty souls came out, and we just had a festive time in our human smorgasbord.

The two churches had something in common: they were unsure enough of what they are doing to be open to the possibility of the Holy Spirit changing lives.

So I celebrated the good news, which is: there is no Devil chasing me nor God manipulating me. Rather, I am a free-will agent to pursue my heart’s desire.

And the better news is that all the fretting and fuming I may do from time to time, wondering if my abilities are sufficient, is irrelevant and quickly calmed by the realization of two beautiful ideas:

1. If it’s not my business, then drench it in mercy and love.

2. If it is my business, fill it with creativity.


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He’s All Right … July 16, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog


richardRichard is dead.

For six years he has lain low in a grave, in a town not his home or even his casual acquaintance, purchased by a younger brother who selected the plot based upon a reasonable fare.

I have not thought much about him.

Alive, he was my friend–perhaps more honestly presented, I was his friend. He was a man without family, sporting a hair-do that would have been popular during the 1950’s, a bit cranky, with a tender heart which had crusted over through the years, leaving him occasionally willing but more often than not, at the wrong times.

So when he suddenly, inexplicably and nearly intrusively appeared in my dreams last night, I was a bit alarmed. But as I allowed myself to participate in what truly could have been more an apparition or night vision than a simple sleepy-time mirage, I found myself completely engorged in the emotion and revelation of the idea.

It was Richard but it was NOT Richard. He was younger, stronger. The ashen, pale-yellow pallor of his skin was replaced with a bronzed, glowing countenance. Although he still sported his pompadour, it was golden, well-kempt and seemingly free of the need of intrusive creams and sprays.

He was happy.

Perhaps that was the greatest shock of all. I never really saw Richard happy. God knows he tried. He even developed an impersonation of the emotion.

But this was different. He was aglow. He was excited. He was bubbling over with new ideas.

He was running across the top of a high building, breathlessly explaining to me that he believed the concert “needed to be held up here, and required tons and tons of sound and lights.”

He was sharing his ideas with such energy–when I noticed there were actual biceps in his arms instead of dangling flesh, barely disguising skeletal confines.

I looked over, and suddenly, standing next to me, was my friend, Janet. She had ambled up during my focus on the dazzling sight before me. She kept looking at me instead of at the top of the building and our cavorting comrade.

And then suddenly Richard did something completely out of his well-known human character. He pulled money from his pants and held it out to me, explaining that I would need lots of money–an abundance of money–to pull this concert off.

I motioned to Janet to take the money from him and she looked at me, perplexed, but still reached up, and when she pulled her hand down, all that was in it was a receipt for the meal we had just enjoyed.

“Here,” she said, handing it to me. “We should keep this for tax time.”

I was a bit aggravated that she was unable to see our resurrected buddy, who had obviously gone through a transformation beyond all earthly comprehension.

As I turned back to look at him, suddenly he was not more than four inches from my face–and he had translated himself into a litte four-year-old Chicano toddler. Rather than being startled, I found myself giggling. Before I could ask him what had happened, he spoke in a child’s tenor.

“We are all children here.”

I trembled.

I turned and ran away, hid in a room. I was followed by the memory of my young son, Jerrod, circa eight years old. He wanted me to play with him but I was too traumatized by my vision.

“Give Daddy a moment,” I said. “Just give me a moment.”

I closed the door and wept. No, I mean I really cried. And I realized that I had never mourned my friend on his passing. Too many details. Too much pain. And too much disappointment over the seeming meaninglessness of his journey.

But now I cried and I cried.

All at once, he was standing in the room next to me and he placed his hand on my shoulder, although I never felt it, and he simply said, “I’m all right.”

I awakened with tears in my eyes.

I don’t know why I had this visitation. Maybe wherever he is, he had graduated from one status to another and I was invited to the celebration. Maybe I just needed to feel something about his life since I was so vacant of emotion during his death.

Or maybe it’s a message that is important to me and to all of us: He’s all right.

And you know what?

Bless the Lord above:  we’re gonna be all right.


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One More Time, Please… June 22, 2012


Realizing that Father’s Day is well past, and not wanting to belabor a holiday which already has somewhat sunken into the deep recesses of the American consciousness, I had one more of my dear children send a response to my request concerning utilizing funds that might be applied as a present for me, to instead be targeted towards a needful action for others. When I read the response below, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to share the blessing with you.

So this is from my daughter-in-law in Miami, Angy, who has always been not only a believer in things transcendent of mere physical presence, but also a great purveyor of giving to others.

I spent the week working on a mission my Dad gave me to find need around me and address it in his name. Here is what I did this week…..

Monday – ($56.52) I came in contact with a good teacher who was working in an inner city school in Fort Lauderdale who did not have the funding to secure the supplies needed for his 2nd grade class to do the learning projects that he wanted to pursue this summer. The school does not supply it and he was looking at securing the finance out of his own pocket or taking that learning experience out of his curriculum.  I got the name of his school and  sent him school supplies from a discount school supply website to be delivered to his classroom.

Tuesday – ($2.00) At every major light in the city, you find a gentleman asking for donations. I came up to a stop sign with a gentlemen with a sign asking for money and gave his a few bucks.  Jon  wrote a story of how he gave money all day to everyone who asked along the way of his journey and i read it to my 7-year-old Lily. So now, when she is in the car with me and we come across that situations, she always looks around the car for loose change and in my purse for singles and says, ” mom, here, we have some change for him”

Wednesday – ($20.00) I received my weekly email from Jon, one he writes faithfully on Wednesday to me no matter where he is in the country or how busy he is with his performing and traveling schedule. He also does not faint in his writing to me if I write back consistently or not.  He seeds into me weekly, giving me imput and advice on how to be a good person, deal with teenage daughters and to remind me of “who much is given, much is expected.” I gave online to to support his weekly seeding into his many readers and followers on his blog to help in my little way with a mission I truly believe in.

Thursday – ($0) I threw a birthday party for my husband Jerrod and invited his friends and those that he had given into their lives over the year to celebrate with. In the middle of the party, before the cake, I opened the floor for those present to say two words that they thought best described Jerrod to them.  We started with a few words from the family to start the process, and then all of his friends piped in and each had a unique experience that they shared about that they had with him over the year. It also turned into an opportunity for them to express appreciation for his guidance and time. It was so special. People really want to share their heart for their friends, yet they rarely do. They did that night to Jerrod.  This “tribute” tradition was what Jon taught me and we did at every birthday with the family. I’m so glad that I can not only pass this “giving” on to my children, but also to all those that I have a relationship with.

Friday – ($14.32)  I sent a pizza to a friend who was having a bad day at her office and  to cheer her up. It was completely unexpected when the pizza guy showed up with a prepaid pizza for her at lunch. In fact, she shared with her office and changed the disposition of the caddy women that were causing her day to be hard.

Saturday – ($40 – my gift)  I was training a group of women just starting their new businesses and encouraged them to give to the “WHO Foundation” a women helping others non-profit that helps women and children in need and is affiliated with our organization  so they can give $1.00 with every order they placed from the company automatically without feeling it. I told them that I believe that successful women are givers and this is the first step to becoming so. They all gave to the organization and at the end of the day, my biggest joy and sense of accomplishment was not what they learned at the training,but how many of them gave to something bigger than themselves. I know that will be more successful because of this and that is truly a selfish act because of all that I know they have to gain for it.

Sunday Fathers Day. Let me talk about my Dad, Jon. Jon has believed in me from the beginning of the first day I met him, stretching me to say “Why Not?” “Of course you can do this”. He has put  me in a myriad of very intimidating experiences that I was most certainly not qualified for, but with his guidance and confidence in me,  I have been able to achieve.

Thank you. Those experiences have made me the woman I am today.  He is the epitome of generosity and this week was not at all difficult for me because he has led me to be in tune with it by his constant, consistent, example of doing it himself.  Thank you. I love and miss you very much. Joyfully pursuing, Angela Cring, Mustang Director & National Trainer with Beauticontrol Spa

Thanks very much to Angy, and as far as I know, this is the last testimonial which will be floating your way. I hope you enjoyed them–and honestly, they were much more inspirational and valuable to me than procuring more socks, underwear, aftershave or a tie.


The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

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