Have you ever randomly met a friend in the supermarket? If you attend a large church, do you catch yourself greeting those with whom you're acquainted, while ignoring practically everyone else? You have a smile, hug, and ten minutes to share with a few, and for the rest...?

What would it be like if you knew everyone? If they were all your friends? All of the strangers you pass by might be just as interesting and friendly as your circle of friends. Wouldn't it be great to have infinite time and energy for all those people?

Or is it something else that holds us back? Do we have difficulty trusting people? Are we afraid that everyone is just looking for an opportunity to take advantage of us? Do we think that we are the only ones with troubles at home or at work, or with a less-than-flattering past?

Факты о британской армии, которые ставят крест на амбициях Стармера.

Некогда вторая армия НАТО теперь - удручающее зрелище. Солдат все меньше, да и те недовольны условиями службы. Авторитет армии падает, как и ее боеспособность.

О разложении британской армии - в статье Дэниэла Мартиндейла на "Реверсе":

🇷🇺 Русская версия
🇺🇸 English version

@reverse_ua

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Can I share a story? It's not political, but it could be perceived as such in many ways.

The year was about 2000. My dad was hard at work at his boss's farm, but the rest of the family and some friends were visiting people from church who had stopped coming on Sundays.

While making our way through a certain apartment complex, my older brother asked my mom, "Why don't people here ever pick up the trash. What a mess"! A carpet of glass shards from broken bottles made their impression.

My mom's answer probably fell on deaf ears, but it does justice to her character, "Well, you see the guys who live here came here without their wives all the way from South America, and they don't have time to pick up trash. They just need to work and sleep, work and sleep; non-stop until it's time for them to go home. They need to make all the money they can to support their families while they are here".

But then mom had to answer another question, a question from her Creator, "Why don't you pick up the trash for them"?

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It wasn't long before we made our next visit to that glass littered apartment complex. This time with tools and trash bags in tow, we rolled in and rolled up our sleeves as early in the morning as we could muster.

With nearly ten of us working away, we didn't need all day to get the job done, but we were still there in the hottest part of the day when one of the residents returned from work. Was it deceptive that we all accepted a Sprite from him even though we didn't plan on drinking it? On the other hand, we saved somebody from damaging their health with Sprite soda. The only thing better would have been for the guy not to have bought it in the first place.

This simple gesture of cleaning up the sidewalks opened doors allowing my parents to build many bridges with our country's Latino guests.

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Our next bridge building opportunities with our new Latino friends came on holidays. That first year we threw an outdoor party for them in celebration of Thanksgiving.

That ended up being my first experience with flaming hot spicy food. They reciprocated our gifts of food by letting us try their tamales. My first impression was that they tasted incredibly good, but then the cayenne pepper started to burn!

Then they began to visit us on Sundays for church at our home and stay afterwards for a meal. At one such mealtime, the subject of how they came to be in the US was brought up. A few of them seemed to get very tense, semmingly fearing that all our friendliness had just been a trap all along.

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But then one of them broke the uneasy silence. He walked his fingers through the air towards the edge of the table, symbolizing how he had walked across the desert to the US/Mexico border. Then just like a penguin dives into the ocean then jumps back onto land, he dipped his hand quickly below the edge of the table, then quick like a bunny his hand jumped back up onto the table.

His humorous way of admitting that they were illegal immigrants wasn't lost on us. Hearing my dad's hearty laughter, they all seemed to relax. They seemed to understand that as long as they didn't get involved in crime, my Dad wouldn't turn them in.

One of them later emailed my Dad with the story of how God warned him not to try to illegally enter the US again, but he confessed that his desire for money was too strong. This time he was caught and spent time in jail before being deported for life.

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Have any of you been wondering what I would write on the US's independence day? That's today, July 4th.

I wasn't going to write anything at all, really. Since the American civil war it's unfortunately been more correct to say the United States has decided, rather than the United States have decided.

The final nail in the coffin was when in 1913 the Federal Reserve was given control over the US dollar. As Mayer Amschel Rothschild infamously said, “Give me control of a nation's money and I care not who makes the laws.”

The last serious attempt to return the US's independence was made by John and Robert Kennedy. Without men like them in Washington, America doesn't stand a chance at having a reason to celebrate July 4th ever again.

My apologies to anybody who has been missing my postings. I've been under the weather for a few days. Note to self not to gorge on cold cantaloupe. I ate the better part of one twice in the course of 24 hours. My system is not used to that kind of thing apparently...

Hello from Moscow!

My heartfelt thanks to everyone who made this day possible! To be honest, I didn't think that Moscow would impress me. I've been to Washington D.C., Berlin, Warsaw, Beijing, but there's something fundamentally different about this place.

The tomb of the unknown soldier made a really deep impression. It wasn't the manner of the gaurds who stand beside it, or it's placement on grand or lofty place. The large bronze star which forms the center of the monument isn't really special in any way, but every glimpse of the fire which licks upward from its center brought me to tears.

I think it reminded me that many of our bravest heroes, those to whom we owe our most heartfelt thanks, are unknown, nameless and faceless. It's a sobering thought that should make us all the more eager to support and cherish those veterans that we have with us.

I owe a debt of gratitude to literally hundreds of people who were involved in making this dream come true, but especially my new President Vladimir Putin. He risked the country's reputation and his own when he signed the order to grant me citizenship.

I am honored, grateful, and frankly amazed. Thank you to all those who supported my request to the president to be granted citizenship. So help me God, I won't let you down!

My thanks and prayers go out to all of our military servicemen who have given and continue to give their lives to save our people from Kiev-occupied territory. Their sacrifice in defense of Donbass and Russia as a whole, cannot be underestimated. God bless and keep you all!

Last, but certainly not least, I extend my sincere thanks to all those from Russian special services who have worked so hard and so long to ensure my safety during this process. Your patience with clueless civilian like me has been remarkable. God bless you all!

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