Sunday, February 28, 2016


By Dr Margaret Aranda

For the past few Friday nights, perhaps for a month now, our ministry, the First "ON FIRE" Ministry for the Disabled, has been led to pray fervently for the children of the world:

*  Orphans in our sister missionary church, Hope & Joministries in Kampala, Uganda; 
*  Children stuck in awful divorce proceedings, often used as pawns and alienated against one parent;
*  Children used in sex trafficking;
*  Children that are physically or emotionally abused by their own parent(s);
*  Children who are victims of incest or rape at home, at an uncle's house, or at a girlfriend's who has a big brother;
*  Girls who are forced to undergo female genital mutilation;
*  Girls who are victims of "honor killings;"
*  Girls who are sexually molested by teachers;
*  Runaways;
*  Drug addicts;
*  And special children with disabilities or special needs.
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Image 1. Praying Orphans at Hope & Joy ministries. 
Desperately needed: Click: Sponsor a child for only $38/mo.

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ONLINE MEETING TIMES: Fridays, 5:00 - 6:00 pm (PST)

Praise, Worship, Sermon, Prayer, Listening to the Holy Spirit, a time to receive Christ as your Personal Savior, a time to receive the Gift of Tongues; to take HOLY Communion; more Praise, more Worship, Donation time for our orphans in Kampala ($38/mo to Sponsor a Child), and more....wherever the Holy Spirit leads us. We just get lost in the Holy Spirit, and don't follow any "Rules" of habit. But we always seem to get things done. Praise the Lord! 

***** PRAISE REPORTS *****

1. WEEK #3: Orphanage in Uganda surrounded by militia,   gunshots fired, and orphans and Pastor huddled in a room. We prayed for the militia to "GET OUT!" The next morning, upon awakening, they were gone! POOF! Now, this is a country that is besieged by massacres of innocent civilians & we Praise God for this miracle! All Glory to God! Thanks be to Our Lord!

2. WEEK #4: The night of our Fasting and Prayer, a baby was kidnapped in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. The next morning, the baby was found alive! Thank you, Jesus! 

*** So Now, We Expect a Miracle at Every Service!  ***
Join us! Sponsor an Orphan! Fast & Pray!
For the first 100 people that Sponsor an Orphan, 
I will personally autograph and mail you my book,

No More Tears: A Physician Turned Patient 
Inspires Recovery
Image 2. No More Tears. I wrote this after a car accident
that has now left me mostly bed-bound for the last 10 years. 

Image 3. Patient Advocate. This is how I have come to known thousands of chronically ill, and became a Patient Advocate, Recipient of the 2011 Perseverance Award from Invisible Disabilities Association, and the 2015 "Doctors Making Change" by Dr. Pugliese.

   I have not forgotten. Is Fasting & Praying still for today? In my opinion, it is. Absolutely. I believe that when we choose to use this method of getting closer to God, He agrees (and instructs) that we are to hide it from the public and gain our reward from Him, in Heaven. We are not to appear 'sad-faced,' like the Pharisees of the New Testament. 

   Did your mother ever tell you that after you eat, you need to wait an hour before you go swimming? That is because your digestive tract is so huge that the majority of your blood supply will go to your intestines. If you swim, that takes the blood flow away from your intestines and re-routes it to your thighs, and all the muscles that it takes to keep you afloat. 

In the same way, when we fast, we basically tell our stomach pangs of hunger to "Be Quiet!" and 'put our human bodies down.' Instead, our minds can focus on 'higher' things of God, of why we are here, of His plan for our live, of interceding for the orphans and widows, and of listening to God as we meditate upon His Word or meditate in silence so that the Holy Spirit can talk to us. 

Join us one Friday night. Experience the Holy Spirit thickening up your room air, sending goosebumps down your arms. Put down the lust of the flesh, and look up towards pleasing God and seeking His face. You shall be renewed!

And honestly? Millions of orphans go to bed without dinner every night, so it shouldn't be a big deal for most of us to go without one meal, while you sitting with a roof over your head, a refrigerator with food in it, and running water. 75% of the world's children do not even have that. 

Medical Disclaimer: Check with your doctor before making any changes to your diet or medication routine. Not meant to cure, change symptoms, add pain, discomfort, distraction, or adverse sequelae to your participation. You may eat whenever you want. Many of us 'break' the Fast at Midnight, so the Fast is for 8 hrs total. You can start out with a 30 minute Fast, and gradually work your way up. If you need an individualized plan, please ask your doctor for it.

Go with God. May He bless the work of your hands, in all that you do. Amen.

Dr Aranda's Short Stories

Age 31: The Color Blue

Saturday, February 13, 2016

Selim Yeniçeri makes me Think of Motherless Children

by Dr Margaret Aranda

Well, I looked around several websites and got stuck at Selim Yeniceri's. I couldn't help but be attracted to an image of a woman holding her practically-naked baby in her arms, kissing him or her with the liveliest of kisses! As the photographer caught the moment, one had to simply look. And marvel. (P.S. And I was right! This stellar article made it to Page 1 of Art & Entertainment in the Japanese magazine, "pc" just today, February 13, 2016! See that here, in English!)

Is the Mother:Child bond of today diminishing in America? Do the fathers with the large incomes "use" the child as a pawn against the mother, simply to inflict hatred and spite so she suffers for divorcing him? Could there be many, many cases of judicial corruption, starting with the Paralegals and the attorneys, then rising to meet the occasion of the hired private Judges for mediation? Or is this solely reserved for Private Judge mediators of custody, who run amuck on their own, raking in the bucks and not even reading the stack of papers for the case before their arrival? 

Did the Judge actually forget that mother and children had no Alimony or child support for years? And finally, they had to garnish his paychecks for Support? Did the Judge really think that the house had to go up for "forced sale" when it was in the green when the mother filed for divorce? And oh, wow, did the Forensic Accountant really forget to notice that he was depositing earnings into his private account, and not into his business account? How truly evil, immoral, and how much malice with forethought that one took!

And no one cares if he tells the children that the mom actually "isn't" "the Mom" anymore?  So the children go to private counseling and the monstrosity of the bill is "split" between the parents, when the father is the one that is causing and actively inflicting the damage? So the Mothers Without Children (and Robin Karr did write a book, and does have a campaign in this effort) are left a-l-o-n-e ? Without their children? The poor child has to go through the divorce, too? This is the price that the devilish, narcissistic fathers make their wives go through when she files for divorce. It is a "punishment," for "No one would want to divorce me, because I make too much money." Well, then if your wife actually did divorce you then, doesn't that tell you that she didn't marry you for your money?  And how strong does a woman have to be to leave all of that behind? There must be something really wrong. 

Alas, she gets on her knees and prays and fasts, and fasts and prays for the children, who must be supernaturally protected. This lady, this aboriginal, African lady and baby, have everything that they need. They have mother:child bond. They have love and physical affection. 

When was the last time that the mother touched or kissed the children that were stripped from her loving hands? It's been too long. She cannot remember. Or perhaps it is the brain injury from the car accident that makes her not remember. Or maybe God just blesses her by taking those loving memories away. Whatever it is now, it is torture. The husband has 'won' at what he and his slimy attorney set out to do: alienate the mother from the children, keep her practically destitute on a pittance of Support, ripped off oh, somewhere around a million dollars from their joint business, and seemingly kept the loans that she supposedly "took out" from the business while she was hospitalized with a brain injury. All in one full sweep. 

But she keeps her eyes on Jesus. She speaks in tongues. She tries to win people to Christ. There is love in every touch, in every word, and she knows no anger any more, for it has been taken away from her. She lives in a supernatural world of forgiveness, pies in the skies, cotton candy clouds, and if she cries, she is alone and no one knows. She waits until it is the middle of the night, all is quiet and the darkness has rolled in to settle in to the wee hours of the morning. And she sheds one tear that goes down her nose. She blinks. Then she crawls into the fetal position, remembers her babies, and cries down to the bottomless pit of her stomach, near the uterus where she once carried her children. 

And she prays. She waits for the Judgement Seat of Christ. And she forgives, because that is what He said to do. And more than that, she prays for this vulture of a man. She prays for him to show love. Because without love, the hate will always win, the hate will always continue, and the hatred will rust into bitterness and rage. And that is not who she ever was, nor is is some one who she will ever be. Amen.


Dr Aranda's Short Stories

Age 31: The Color Blue

Monday, February 8, 2016


by Dr. Margaret Aranda

I remember that it was December of 2015, because I can still see the piece of paper with the date on it. My photographic memory still does work at times, she smiled. Even after two traumatic brain injuries (TBIs). Hey, people could steal from me, they could do things behind my back, they could lie to me and about me, but there is one thing that they can not do: they can not take "me" out of myself. I am a child of God, and His Shield protects me, as well as His angels, even His legions of angels, if necessary.

Oh, another day in bed with exercises rolling around in my head, leading me away from all the dread....and then I checked my email. Well what do you know? An email from Monkey Star Press? Wow, that sounds familiar, although I can't really place it. So I open it with just a tinge of curiosity...and find that a short story I wrote about Moms at the Holidays was actually accepted

Slowly and deliberately, so as not to mix up the 5 pages of signed contract, I scan and email each page back to the publisher, fully intact. I can't be interrupted or else I'll lose count. I can't be side-tracked, or I'll 'derail.' I have to focus on such a simple task, to complete it, and to complete it right the first time, so I don't have to go back and remember where and how I did it, re-acclimating myself to the whole project all over again. No, just Shhh! Let me do this!  Ah! Ah~ Wait! I''m almost done and I don't want to get mixed up! Uhmm. .. Uhmm.... OK! It is done. Now we can talk. 

What was my story about? The setting that was given to all the writers was the Holidays. The person of interest was the Mom. That's it. So, I took myself back to a place and time when I went through six extra years of post-doctoral training to become both an anesthesiologist and a critical care intensivist.

And since I never really had a family waiting for me at home, I made one up. But everything else in the middle, everything else I spoke of in the entire body of the was all true. I reminisced like a child who knows the smell of chocolate chip cookies in the oven, or like a dog who hears the food being poured out and already begins to salivate from across the room. Pavlovian, yes. Automatic. It pervaded my being. My goal was to trick myself into thinking that I could have had it all. 

Image 1. Thinking I Could Have it All.
 I still yearn for the same dream. It never left.

So I painted the best picture of the most memorable times, and I filled in the blanks, the missing parts, with my imagination of what I would have liked to come home to. The effervescence of a house that was 'just messy enough,' 'just filled with the right amount of laughter,' and in the background was the dog chasing the cat, and someone with a lost shoe, and romantic, symphonic hard rock speaking in whisps of whispers...and my husband who I adored like no other. 

He would take me in his arms and without so much as one single word, he would make the rest of the work-day disappear, just like a magician pulling a bunny out of a hat. He seemed to live to make me smile and laugh, to be distracted away from the regular and mundane things of this world, and onward to the higher spiritual calling that we both shared. And together, we would get lost in this world, and our children would see us laughing and playing, fully clothed, on our bed. And they would think to themselves, "They're at it again. Let's leave them alone for a time." And they would giggle!

And as the children walked away, they had no idea that we were imprinting their future families inside their own brains, their future spouses and their future children, and yes.....even their future pets. 

And I would smile and beam and laugh with glee, for there was surely nothing better than being a mother and a wife, for the entirety of my life.

I was grateful for this day, for today, I had everything. 
Dr Aranda's Short Stories

Age 31: The Color Blue

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