The Spiritual Adventures Of Aram Aandahl

The Spiritual Adventures Of Aram Aandahl The question really isn't "what if you're wrong" but rather "what if I'm right"

09/11/2026

From todays meditations

Just had to unfollow Michael Foster which is kind of sad. He always used to be perfectly balanced but now he seems to be j-pilled. I might be wrong, or he may have been like that for a while. Still, ain't got time for that.

For starters, if you like me have never heard of the term j-pilled. It describes someone who has adopted antisemitic conspiracy theories. Being "J-pilled" means a person has come to believe that Jewish people secretly control major global institutions like the media, finance, and politics. This being the case, that the poster thought the writer had these thoughts when the blogger wrote, he decided to no longer read the bloggers posts. And the blogger hammered him, along with I think, criticizing society in general.

It is sad to see not only has nothing changed, where people unfriend, unfollow or whatever it is they do on other platforms. Once it was just politics, now it's for every issue under the sun. What I find humorous in a way is that people intentionally post things to rile up the other side, and then when they get a reaction, remove them from their list of friends. Been on the receiving end of that back in my political posting days. I've steered clear of posting about issues in the temporary world, not because I don't have opinions on them but it's more of a "who really cares?" and "I'm 75 and if you want to create a world that you are being brainwashed to create, have at it. I'll be gone". I'll stick to writing about things that we can have different opinions on because neither one of us can prove the other wrong. But back to the hammering of that poster on X

The blogger says the things that I think myself starting with this: "you can all unfollow me, and my life will be just fine. This platform has been fun and helped me get my writing out there, but I don't need it. It's just a cool opportunity God's given me." Absolutely true. My posting in Wordpress (identical to this post) is all about someone bumping into it one day and perhaps benefitting from it. I can have no followers there at all and be perfectly happy about that. The fact that it is read, even by a few, all over the world amazes me.

"Unfollowing people because they disagree with you on something is going to increasingly narrow who you allow to speak into your life until you only want to hear your own thoughts. This will make you into an idiot." Harsh. But this is no different really than reading only "your trusted sources" which has been fed to you as brainwashing.

"I follow all sorts of people I disagree with, some in major ways. If I'm called to love my enemies, certainly I can love those how are outside "my camp". But having your identity defined by who you follow and whether or not they're telling you what you want to hear is a sad affair." I may not follow those I disagree with but I don't follow because I don't need more emails daily from the bloggers filling my inbox. At least Gmail has put these into their own folder so I have to look elsewhere for my Sallys Baking Addiction emails. Others I ignore totally as either I read the post on line - or not. At times some of my bookmarked writers take on worldly issues. I may not agree with their position, but I will often read it all the same. I am not judge and jury. "He" is, and He has never called me for jury duty.

"These days the crowd cries out "Declare your faithfulness by talking about the things we want to talk about" or "Disavow this person or you're guilty of whatever we claim they are guilty of." No I don't think I will. I'm just going to keep doing what I've been doing. And if you move on, cool." He's honest, and I like that. He doesn't care how many people read what he writes, or like what he writes, and perhaps he views his writing as I do. Writing for an audience of One. Whether He approves, as writers, we never know. Don't know if we got two thumbs up for the post, one thumb or a "Meh. You could have done better". I try not to get "mehs" but sometimes after rereading what I wrote the day after I posted it, a "meh" is even more than its worth...

The thing I find interesting about this whole X post and reply is that the blogger doesn't know where this opinion of what he wrote on came from, that he believes the Jews run everything. Odd too is that critical poster runs a Krav Maga school whose web site states that it is the home for Israeli martial arts and fitness. Leads me to believe the poster is Jewish, so why be critical of someone who might be supporting Israel, if that is indeed what brought him to post on X what he did.

Three things for yesterday. Productive work day. Sold two things the same day as they were listed. Rare indeed. Wii bowling continues to improve.

Inspiration for today comes in part from Michael Foster and the spirit of course!

09/10/2026

From todays meditations

If you do your righteous acts to the fanfare of the street, then your reward will be … the fanfare of the street.

Fanfare. An ostentatious outward display, heavy media publicity, or showy activity designed to draw intense attention to an event or product launch. Or maybe to oneself. Look what I did! The world embraces fanfare.

Back in the 1980-90s there was a push to reward people with something other than raises, one of those things being employee of the month. A little plaque, a handshake and a silly cake or something. Cost very little and let companies feel good that they rewarded an employee on the cheap. I never bought into this. I didn't want to be rewarded for doing my job well - or not well. My boss used to tell me that no one will ever know who you are unless you mess something up. He himself came to be noticed years before when he missed the fact that a dividend check that was supposed to be for 3 cents a share accidentally was calculated at 30 cents per share, and some of the checks went out in the mail. Actually, it was pretty easy for me to stay in the shadows. I remember being called into my bosses boss's office and having him say to me, you know, I have no idea what you do. My reply was "Good. If I wasn't doing my job correctly you would know what I did". At that time pretty much nothing was changed in the nightly production environment without my blessing, and at no time did I ever pat myself on the back, say to myself nice job, and let the world know. Hence, my bosses boss had no idea what I did. Had I made a mistake - he would surely have known.

What makes a human life worth living? How do I know I am someone? The writer wants to know. These days ones importance is based on how many X followers they have, or how many likes a post gets. If I don't have enough, then I am a no one. Some kids are brought up to think they are special being applauded so hard by their parents for what they have done, they begin life as an adult expecting the same thing. Applause and fanfare. Without the world recognizing how great they are, they then create a person outwardly that generates that missing applause and fanfare. Look no further than social media where people are not who they really are in real life. As the writer puts it "So many people who try to look fantastic in public, aren’t what they appear to be. Knowing that this is the case, we look for signs of genuineness.” In other words, we look to see a person the way He sees them. The times that they stood away from the wall, did something that was intended to be in secret and then stepped back in the shadows. At least that is the kind of person we should be looking for. Instead, the world look towards celebrity's pr the gossip rags by the checkouts in supermarkets that have headlines on who is getting married who is getting divorced. Who said this, who said that. Who cares? Too many people do. No one want to hear about Mr/Mrs anonymous who donated money to do this or that, or the person who goes down to serve at the soup kitchen. People don't care to read about who donated their time to do something. Keep in mind, time is something that there is an exact amount of it each day - until there is not. We have a silly rule here that if you donate your time to do something for where we live (ie bake for a fund raiser) there is a form to be filled out where you tell them how much time. I am 100% against that. My wife will ask me and I 'll give her a number for her to fill in. I prefer being anonymous with my time donations.

"We may die completely forgotten, and lie in some unmarked grave. We may not make a mark, or leave a legacy. We may not float on the swell of an audience’s applause." But God knows. All the time. A two thumbs up from the spirit for what you have done, makes a much larger noise than 10,000 people's applause. You cannot hide your good deeds from the spirit who just might have put the idea into your head to do what you did to begin with. It doesn't matter all that much to me who in the temporary world knows what I did or even who I am. Two thumbs up is my daily goal.

Three things for yesterday. Beautiful weather continues. Nose to the grindstone work wise. Finished another Kindle book.

Inspiration for today come in part from Michael Jensen and the spirit of course!

09/09/2026

from todays meditations


Each of us has unique talents in our lives. Some of us are athletic, or good cooks, wise, mediators, having business savvy, compassionate, hospitable, funny, detail-oriented, teachers, caretakers, entertainers, great friends…the list goes on. Not all receive the same number or types of talents, but God expects us to use the abilities and talents He has given us for His glory.

As in most situations that involve people, I am the wall flower. It probably goes back to losing a good part of my hearing and being barely able to hear what someone else was saying. These days due to what I consider a miracle (as does my audiologist probably) I do hear a thousand percent better, and can converse with anyone except in extremely crowded noisy locations. Still, I will for the most part, be the wall flower as it is somewhat of a habit now. I am this way in church as well. I'll shake hands during the passing of the piece, and say good morning to my neighbors, and then head out to the car and wait for my wife. Even after 7 years, I am pretty much - unknown. Or so I believe.

I think back to a couple of years ago, and waiting to pick up soup we ordered from the soup sale. The woman in front of me, a person that I cannot say I even recognized, turned around and said to me "you are the person who bakes the black and white cookies aren't you. I hope you baked them again this year because they are fabulous". I admitted I was, and did, and there were some for sale when she picked up her soup. I was pretty amazed that anyone would know I was the baker. You have to also understand that black and white cookies are something completely unknown in these parts. It's a NYC thing the same way a Whoopie Pie is a Pennsylvania thing, at least where we live now. I remember the first time I baked them for our church and there were an awful lot of them left over - which I gladly took home. These days though, they sell out. The other day I received an email from a person who is organizing refreshments after concerts asking me to provide something for people to eat. Many were asked, and I of course said yes. Won't be black and whites, as I like to vary what I bake, but the way I see it, if I am asked to use a talent given to me, I will indeed use it to the best of my ability.

It is indeed a talent that to me, must be shared. I look at todays date and see that it is three months from Christmas cookie baking. I really felt bad about last years baking as I could not stand for the most part. It was too painful to move, and the little baking I did, I did for the most part, sitting down. Only cookies made were for our daughters, friends here, and neighbors on the block. Made some for the fund raiser that is done here as well. It was the neighbor baking though that drove me to bake. The thought that some of these folks could not bake on their own and the cookies they had were just the ones purchased at the fund raiser, didn't sit well with me. I just had to use the talent given to me to do a little something for someone, even if it hurt. This year I suspect it will be much better.

A talent given - no doubt about it because where did it come from if not from Him? My Mom could bake, but to the best of my memory, she made a hand full of kinds every year. Spritz, and I still remember helping by putting a piece of walnut in the center, or a single chocolate chip. Toll House chocolate chips. Cut outs. Thumbprints. Period. Not as gifts I don't think. All told maybe 12 dozen cookies. Same every year. Nothing like the cookie making machine I became. Even scaled back last year I probably made a 40 dozen of 12 variety's. The ability to bake along with the desire to bake for others came from someplace else. Some people can't bake (and really should not - I've tasted their wares), but those who can knock ones socks off with baking, clearly should use that talent. There is a choir member who does this sort of thing giving every member a plate of individually wrapped cookies, and this woman can BAKE. Wow. A talent, one that might seem insignificant to the owner of it, can be used to brighten someone's day. If you can do something well that you can't figure out how it is that you are able to do so, the source has to be Him.

I believe everyone has a talent that can be used to benefit someone. We might not know what it is because we have never thought of it as a talent. Think about what you can do and then consider if it is something others can't do or can't do as well. That thing just might be something to share - and get a two thumbs up from the spirit.

Three things for yesterday. Visit to a podiatrist. Toenails feel much better. Early to bed to read. Respectable wii bowling

Inspiration for today comes in part from Kelly McFadden and the spirit of course!

09/08/2026

From todays meditations

There is one doctrine, or, a teaching, that incites rebuttal, refusals, and even anger. It’s the Doctrine of Election. It is also known as the doctrine of Predestination.

I have believed this for the longest time. A scripted life where we are handed a page in His play every day - until we are not. People are not fans of predestination primarily due to the fact that tacked onto this belief is that your afterlife has also been predetermined. I can understand why people want to downplay this scripted concept. Who wants to live a life knowing that their stateroom on the SS Eternity is way down on one of the lower levels, and there is no chance that you can be reassigned at least to a cabin with a port hole. Since I don't buy into the life after death has been arranged for me, I thought, maybe what I am believing is something with a different name. In a way, it has to be different. Believing in reincarnation, I'll just be a pile of ashes in an urn in a church, obviously not following any sort of script as my Book of Life will have said "THE END". My spirit that I do believe will become an angel, cannot possibly know right now if that is true (at least not 100 percent certain) or will it be given another book to tear off a page a day to hand out. So I decided to ask the question "what is it called when you believe that you are living a scripted life written by God” I got back an answer that I did not expect. Predestination.

An outstanding article written by a person who wonders the same as I and thinks the same as i when it comes to life here in the temporary home. He even touches on what I call the selection committee without actually giving that group a name: "And isn’t that the paradox of human life? We do not choose the family we are born into, nor the circumstances that shape our earliest years. In childhood, we inherit dreams rather than create them. The family we are born into, the culture we absorb, the expectations placed upon us—all of these cast a long shadow over our sense of choice. We may believe we are choosing freely, but in reality, our “choices” are often echoes of circumstances and influences we did not select. The profession we pursue, the relationships we build, even the destinations we dream of—these are rarely the product of pure, isolated “free will.” They emerge from a web of responsibilities, family expectations, financial realities, and social pressures. What we call choice is often a negotiation with circumstance."
It makes me wonder, how much of 'me' is actually mine?

Indeed it does make me wonder as well. If the election committee is fate, and the environment we grow up in creates our character, the writer says free will comes into play when we rewrite our scripts. How much editing power we have is completely unknown. I believe as the human suit of clothes the answer is none. We can petition for a rewrite but we can't actually make changes on our own. When I look at my daily script it has some bullet points at the top, one of which says "back will hurt". In my thanks in advance prayer before I begin each day, I always ask for my back to hurt a little less than the day before. I simply cannot make that happen on my own. Some days that "edit" happens, other days not. I can scratch my head as I often do when I have days where my back feels like it did 50 years ago, at least for a short time. What have I done differently or what did I not do yesterday that I feel good today - is a constant wonder. I have not edited my day, but I do believe He has, and I just push the wondering aside and accept that.

"The question then becomes: how much of our life is predetermined, and how much is the act of reclaiming authorship from the forces that shaped us? We don't know" The writer makes no mention of afterlife being predetermined, perhaps because if you don't know anything about the afterlife for certain, then it is impossible to say whether or not it has been scripted for us. The afterlife will forever be a mystery to we humans. I suspect that some of my strange beliefs of what lies outside the door that says "enter here" are thoughts based on my spirits experience, and it has never entered that door, so there is nothing it can tell me. My responsibility as best I can tell, is to get it through that door and be the angel it hopes to be.

I'll close with this which is a thought from the writers Mother: "As a child, my mother would often tell me that we are Kathputli—puppets in the hands of the Divine. She spoke of a grand design where every joy and sorrow was a move in a play already written, and we were simply the vessels acting it out." A play previously written where we are handed a script every day and told by the Director to just follow it. Adlib at your own peril.

Three things for yesterday. Labor day BBQ. Pretty good movie watched (at least I thought so) Mystic River. Asleep in probably 15 seconds. I was beat
Inspiration for today comes in part from Sajal Kushwah and the spirit of course!

09/07/2026

From todays meditations

Few of us wake up excited to exercise. We know it’s good for us. We admire people with the discipline to get up early, lace up their shoes, and head to the gym. We just don’t always want to join them. We rise to what we prize.

I have never woken up with the desire to exercise. We have a fitness room here that I can walk to in about 10 minutes. In seven years other than being shown around inside it, I have never been there. If my getting out of bed every morning meant going to the gym, I would stay in bed. Actually I am a firm believer that if you don't have anything important to do in the morning, you won't get up. I have a laundry list of things, and pretty much a dedicated time frame to get them done. So, I pop out of bed with enthusiasm and shake the cobwebs out of my brain and get started.

We rise to the prize does not just apply to going to the gym - or not. We don't always pursue what is good we pursue what we treasure. People who sleep in instead of taking a walk in the morning treasure sleep over exercise. We arrange life based on what we prize. The writer puts it this way "Whether it’s Christ, career, comfort, or golf clubs, we always arrange our lives around what we prize. Our calendars, checkbooks, ambitions, and daydreams reveal what our hearts truly treasure." While he doesn't say it, seems to me he is looking around in his church one morning. He is a pastor after all. "Where are the people?" perhaps is what he is thinking. He might also wonder if he popped his head into Sunday School "where are the kids?" Maybe when he stands in front of the altar, and if he is Episcopalian says the words "all things come of thee O Lord" with the congregation replying "and of thine own have we given thee" he wonders if the congregation means what they say based on the offering plate. The word of the sentence that I had to think about was daydream, especially when at the end he asks the questions "Where does your mind naturally drift when you’re not directing it? What do you daydream about? What do those thoughts reveal about what you truly prize?

First I had to look up the basic definition of a daydream. What is it? "Future Planning: Imagining upcoming goals, career achievements, or personal milestones. Wish Fulfillment: Visualizing pleasant outcomes, such as winning a prize or traveling. There is a lot more detail on all of this if you turn to Wiki and there are a lot of benefits to doing this. But when I think about it, I don't just sit back in my recliner and ponder the things that a dictionary says is daydreaming. Lots of questions pop up when I consider that. Do I prize nothing in the temporary home, or even the eternal home, as I do not spend time wondering about something that no one that I know has been there and come back. Humans don't know this as they themselves in physical form have not done that. Do I really direct my mind or is it something else. I must have daydreamed at some point, so when did I stop? If I prize nothing in the temporary home does that mean that I am prizing properly? The inquiring mind wants to know.

I don't see any benefit to putting wishes or the visualization of good things onto a pedestal and think about things that have a good chance of never happening. I also don't believe it to be a good idea to take physical things and activities and give them a status that they do not deserve. You can lose them in a second. My visualizations all create nothing more than inner peace. From the cabin in the woods, to the house off the avenue I leave at night as I fall asleep. Perhaps I do prize inner peace and giving up my thinking to what creates the sensation. And just maybe prizing that, makes all the rest of my life fall in line with what it's been written to be. Just another question I guess.

Three things for yesterday. Beautiful day so we took a walk and ate outdoors again. Saw the biggest snake I have ever seen that was not in a reptile house. About 3 feet long, and black. Cookies baked for todays BBQ

Inspiration for today comes from Rev Dave Harvey and the spirit of course!

09/06/2026

From todays meditations

I could have been sitting on that trike as the truck backed over it. Maybe it wasn’t instinct or fear at all that made me move. Maybe God sent an angel or two to intervene and pull me to safety.

The writer now in his 60's remembers back when he was 3. He was on his trike, having pedaled from his house to check out a moving van that was down the block. As he pedaled behind it, it began backing up, and he knew he could not pedal fast enough to avoid being squashed like a bug. So he jumped off the trike and ran to the grass and moments later the van crunched up his trike. The driver was in a panic as he knew he had run over something, and jumped out of the cab and found a squashed trike, but nobody on it. Looking to the side he saw a sobbing three year old and walked him home with the ruined trike, telling his Mom he would buy him a new one. The writer says "Looking back, I realize there was more happening than I could understand as a three-year-old." Indeed there was.

"I am pretty sure God has protected me from my own folly more than anything. But as I look back through my life, one thing I know, I have kept my guardian angels busy.” Of this I am certain in my own life. I probably have written a post like this in the past, but it never hurts to repeat it and reflect on the fact that being able to sit and write this is completely due to the guardian angel I have kept busy during my life, though not for an good long time. In all but one time, it was all on me. Let me count the ways........

Back in 1960 was probably the first time at the age of 9. Playing ball on a busy street while visiting my cousins in June of that year. I never saw the car coming as I was payng attention to the batter and the car never saw me, so, it clipped my side with the side view mirror. Not a tragic thing, knocked me down, but I could get up and run across the street to my cousins back yard, and did - and almost got killed by a car that came barreling down the road that I never saw coming - but from what I have been told, many in the yard did. Spent my birthday in a hospital, missed 4th grade graduation as well, but, alive.

Then we have the time I decided that if a sled had one massive runner, it would go faster, so I constructed some sort of device that had sheet metal hammered onto wood, and tried it out going down the slope of the driveway that led to the garage under the house. I got to the bottom, crashed into the door, and a point of the sheet metal pierced my wrist not too far from a main artery. Naturally I tried covering this gash up with a bandaid but, never thought about the blood trail in the snow that my mother found. To the doctor for stitches. Kind of repeated that cut the wrist thing later on as a boy scout fooling around with a knife with another scout who stabbed my wrist again not too far from a main artery.

Fast forward to my teen years, going down to our groups favorite beach after a decent sized storm. No one else was there that day, and we had chosen this beach because there were no lifeguards, which meant no one would be there but us on any given day. The waves were great for body surfing, which I enjoyed doing, but on this day I got mixed up in some cross currents, and rip tides and at one point I really thought I was a goner as I could not get back to the shore. But out of nowhere came a huge wave that took me all the way in and deposited me on the beach - and left me there with no waves to pull me back in.

Then we have my ill fated ride on a motorcycle with me driving. This was in 1971, May if I recall. He asked me if I wanted to take a spin going down the block, then getting off it and walking it to face the other way and riding back. Did it a few times and decided I could maneuver the bike to go the other way while sitting on it. Somehow in doing this, perhaps trying to slow down and turn rather than come to a stop, I panicked because it wasn't slowing down and did something to make it go even faster, losing control over the bike, missing a tree by inches I am told and plowed into someone's front stoop flying over the front (good thing I was wearing a helmet) and crashing into the ground, unhurt, but, a bit of damage to the bike. It could still be ridden but not without me shelling out a few bucks

At the end of his post today the writer asks two questions. How have you seen God’s protection in your life? Well.... And second, have you thanked Him for it. Yes indeed. I have also asked at times, why. To this day, I don't know, and I also wonder have I done what I was saved to do or is there something yet for me to accomplish. I believe I have led a rather ordinary life (well maybe not since my guardian angel has been kept busy), and I am at the point where my guardian angel can rest easy as I won't be doing anything too dumb on my own. Not to say that a situation can still pop up that it will once again come to my rescue but this time it won't be on me if I can help it. I certainly believe He has protected me over the years from what I have to call my own stupidity. Sometimes I think my spirit breathes sigh of relief when I don't do something that I might have done. That it checks in nightly with my guardian angel and says "just ### more days we have to keep him using common sense" so that he makes it to the last page of his Book of Life. I'll do what I can to make their jobs a little easier.

Three things for yesterday. Pizza night. Came out great as always. Napping in the recliner. It was a quiet Saturday.

Inspiration for today comes in part from Keri Willis and the spirit of course!

09/05/2026

From todays meditations

It always pains me a bit to cut back lush foliage and lovely flowers anywhere in my yard, but a few weeks ago, I decided it was time to prune the impatiens that were overflowing the strawberry planter on my front porch.

Pruning. Anyone who walks by our house knows that garden pruning if done at all is minimal at best. I can picture strawberry plants being overtaken by impatiens. I have commented a couple of times to my wife that there are spots in the raised beds that are graveyards, with those little flowerpot inserts that tell you the name of the plant as tombstones. I know every year that they have a life expectancy of a month or two at best. Once the never or rarely pruned plants grow to be 8-10 feet tall, there is no hope for them to ever see sunlight. Survival of the fittest as they say.

On the other hand there is my raised bed that has for the most part zinnias every year. While I plant other things they never show up much to my disappointment. This year though a ground hog decided my bed was its dinner and ate every leaf on every stem. My zinnias usually grow way higher than the package indicates, no doubt due to the soil I add to the bed every year. It is a far better quality than Walmart or Home Depot, coming from a farm south of us. Six to seven foot high zinnias also block the sun. You can't prune a zinnia, only cut their flowers, but by that time the smaller flowers have never gotten enough sun to even begin to show up. But not this year. No zinnias (though some are making a comeback) gave them sufficient light to grow for the first time.

Plants don't have a say in when they want to be pruned. Or eaten. Nor do we. The writer looks back to last year: "According to eye witnesses that Tuesday morning, I stopped at an intersection, pushed the walk button, waited for the signal to turn green, checked to make sure no cars were coming and started across the road on my bike. I never saw the Subaru that ran the red light and hit me in the crosswalk." 19 days in various hospitals with brain trauma, skull and neck fractures and a broken leg that required emergency surgery. She still has no idea why this all happened but she believes it happened for some reason only He knows about and that there is something up ahead that this sort of hard pruning had to have happened in order for her to fulfill His plan. This sort of thing happens to everyone, not always as severe as that, but, modifys your life in a way you never expected. There is something up ahead is the best explanation that one can come up with. It is also a waste of time to try to figure out what it could possibly be.

While it is no fun, I'm glad I am more like a zinnia that got chomped than an Iron W**d, Joe Pye or humongous yellow cone flower that just seem to get bigger every year. I too believe that there is something beneficial to the fact that the back still hurts but now in places that it didn't. I can't see it, but maybe just like the smaller flowers that now look great (only about 9 inches high), there is something down the road that I needed to be pruned for. Only the Master Gardener knows for sure.

Three things for yesterday. Pizza dough and iced lemon bars made. Email asking if I would bake for some church functions coming up this year. Sure! Selling things almost as soon as they were listed. Rarely does that happen.

Inspiration for today comes in part from Lois Flowers and the spirit of course!

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