love | Bonnie Barnard - Part 3

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Pig Tails and God

I am blessed with a highly creative daughter who has a great sense of humor. While in high school she went through a program that allowed her to attend high school and college simultaneously. She decided to take Cosmetology Management. Part of this program was practicing hair styles on people. My dad thought he had a good sense of humor and would crack himself up telling jokes which others didn’t find too funny. Last week my daughter sent me a text message which read “Pigtails” and had the following photo of my 9 month old grand baby’s first hair style: (You have to look closely as her hair color and background are pretty close in color). As I clicked on this message and saw the photo, I felt the energy of my daughter and the love the two of us share come through this text. I was pulled into my grand daughter’s joy and the love my daughter has for her. In that same shared moment, I...

Revelation: It’s The Mother

I want to meet Richard Branson. My first step in cultivating the possibility of meeting Sir Richard is reading his biography, Losing My Virginity. This compelling book had me face first into it, gulping it down in parts and savoring it in others. I was with him as I read each paragraph. Then the insight hit me which shifted the way I now see the world. Oh my God, I begin yelling in my empty house, “success comes down to the quality of one’s mother.” Stay with me on this one; it shook me too. I cannot remember a moment in my life when I have not felt the love of my family. We were a family that would have killed for each other — and we still are. (pg 18) Branson describes his early years in scene-after-scene of family involvement and caring. His words paint the picture of a solid family foundation which he could always count on. As he becomes older and begins to take risks growing ideas into...

More Love, Please

I am seated at a local restaurant known for their fresh funky pizza and gourmet salads. Across the table from me is a robust South American woman with a space between her teeth, afro cut close to her head and a wickedly joyous laugh which produces an inner smile when I hear it. Glenda is my new friend, although she calls me a sister. It took many years for us to meet. Seven years ago my L.A. friend, Nina, brought me to a meeting at her local chapter of Women for World Peace (WfWP). Founded by the Unification Church, this group of women attracts members across faiths and countries bonding women as sisters creating a network of peace. I actively tried joining the Phoenix chapter and emails went unanswered, phone calls not returned. I let it go. Until now. Glenda became the new president of the local chapter. She dug through past files to find my name, call me, and take me out for lunch. With a pizza between...

Something Fishy Is Going On

Taking my seat in a large auditorium church, it is day two of a much anticipated conference. After a few minutes of sitting I notice something smells fishy. I raise my hands to my face. No, it’s not my skin. My skin smells like the just applied “Falling in Love” lotion I lathered on after my shower. I pull softly on my blue and white guaze top and smell the corner of it while looking around the room as though I always do this and it smells freshly laundered. Nothing. Then I look to the right. There is a woman with short brown Liza Minelli cut hair, a ruddy face and overexuberant disposition. I lean into her to hug her and eeeek, it is her. She stinks. She smells of, not old seafood from a diner platter the night before, but from “I took raw salmon skin and rubbed it on my body this morning as my new lotion.” I couldn’t believe it. My gag reflexes set in and...

I Choose to be Maladjusted

Over the years I have loved Martin Luther King, Jr for his commitment to living heaven on earth and I’ve disliked him for his alleged philandering. When I learned it was a mother who said to him in the grocery story “I hope someday our children can play together and not be judged by the color of their skin but instead by their character,” I was angry he didn’t credit her for these heart felt words. Since becoming a minister I realize talks are inspired in large part by our experience with others, so I softened a bit. After I had the experience of being cheated on, I couldn’t imagine a man who touted “morality” harming his wife this way. I still don’t understand this one, and I’ve learned it isn’t my business to. There are periods over the past four decades I have also been deeply inspired by his words and work. Core changing inspiration which has led me to see the Gospels in a social light. I...