What Most People Do Not Picture About Michael Jackson 

The Conspiracy against God is about "The Word", and the profaning of His Holy Name within us. Adam fell in the garden, breaking the direct connection to God. Jesus, the "last Adam" was a quickening Spirit, the Word made Flesh, and the only one with whom we can re-establish our relationship with God. Michael\'s story is still unfolding. He is the one who is, is not. But Jesus is the only name given under heaven by which we must be saved. Many are trying to rewrite HIStory. We were given a help to instruct us. Learn more "here".

What Most People Do Not Picture About Michael Jackson

What Most Don\'t Think About When They Hear "Michael Jackson"

I was writing an email to a friend of mine and the whole thing put me into this wistful mood and brought back some childhood memories.

It made me want to write about the sweet things in Michael\'s life that next to no one who isn\'t a fan, knows about.  It\'s not something that can always be seen about him if you knew him in day to day life either.  Because if you lived around him, you probably only knew him that way.

This would probably mostly be seen and appreciated by fans who ORIGINALLY only knew him as his stage presence and came upon the Youtube videos and photos they had never seen before, after his disappearance/death.

The email, in part, is below, then I will continue to tell you how this email prompted this blog entry:

I just sent my husband out to work.  He has to work today because of the two days they were closed down because of the ice storm.  It\'s funny, yesterday, there was a thin glaze of ice over top of the snow but it was like polished icing.  I walked up to the mailbox (because Ed and I had spent the day shoveling Monday, tiles of ice) and on the way back, I saw a really strange, thin slice of snow/ice standing strait up, almost as if it were backed up iceberg.

Well I walked over to the edge of the driveway and I kicked this thin sheet standing strait up and bits of that went sailing across the surface of my front yard halfway out into the middle of it before it stopped (the front yard is about an acre).  I picked up another chunk and threw that across the ice (like I was skipping stones) and  that went all the way across to our neighbor\'s driveway.  It was fun watching those chunks split up and sail in different directions as far as they would go.  Our front yard looks like a glazed donut, the sheen on top of the snow from the ice coating.  I had fun doing that.  My husband was laughing when I told him about it.  It\'s nice to be able to enjoy the little things, that\'s all the entertainment I can afford, LOL!

I like watching my husband sleep.  He looks like a baby when he sleeps, believe it or not.  We know what Michael looks like sleeping . . . in that limo, against the window with the blanket wrapped around him up to his chin . . . very, very cute.  I always wondered if Michael would slip in during sleepless nights and watch his children sleep like that.  Can you imagine the secure feeling of knowing Michael was watching you sleep . . . guarding against nightmares?  I don\'t know if my husband watches me sleep, but he does like to wake me up with these sweet little kisses on my cheek or lips.  It is a secure feeling.  Just imagine Jesus watching you sleep from above and reaching down and gently brushing the hair off of your forehead so he can lean in to kiss it.  My parents didn\'t do that kind of thing when I was a child so when I would see parents on t.v. doing that to their children, I would imagine Jesus doing that to me.

Well, I better catch a cat-nap before telephone call time.

Michael, from what I have learned about him, was a child that missed much of the necessary "cuddle time" with mom and the security that only comes from NOT sleeping in hotel rooms, knowing your "playtime" the next day will be in a rehearsal hall, recording studio or nightclub at an age that you haven\'t even lost all your baby teeth yet.

My childhood was spent being lugged around to dog shows (go ahead, make your jokes, LOL) by my parents who were trying to make a name for themselves in the AKC.  One Friday a month, when we weren\'t getting ready to travel to a show, my sister and I would be taken to the "Green Lantern" in Lancaster, PA, where the waitresses would put their tips in the jukebox because they knew my sister and I would get up and sing and dance.  It wasn\'t until my mother pointed out to me one day, that everyone was waiting for me to get up and sing that I bothered to worry about who was watching me.  I was too busy "being" Johnny Cash or Credence Clearwater Revival or one of the Lennon Sisters.  

Michael told a story about his father and a memory of his dad lifting him up onto a horse.  My father abandoned us when I was eight years old, only two years after we stopped singing at "The Green Lantern".

There was a story that was famous during holiday dinners at my great grandparents house but revealing.  It was also one of the few times I remember feeling protected.

My parents were never outwardly affectionate.  My sister and I were raised to be seen and not heard.   The type of people my parents were around, children were trained, not raised.  We didn\'t get a lot of hugs and kisses and I just remember growing up not really missing what I didn\'t know.  I would see "Father Knows Best" or "Ozzie and Harriet" and if a baby was being held in a movie on T.V. I would ask my mom if she would hold me in her lap.   Sometimes she would let me, but most of the time she would tell me, "you are too big for that."

One day, my we stopped at our neighbor\'s house up the road.  It had something to do with selling one of our Shepherds.  I noticed a tent in their front yard.  I asked my father what that was from the back seat of the car and he told me about tents and camping.  I thought that was fascinating.  Yes, just like John Wayne camping under the stars in those movies!

When we got back home, I worked the entire day, making a camp site.  We did not have a tent, but that was okay.  The first thing I did was line my sleeping space with stones I pulled from the side of the driveway.  I would lay down on the ground. Make a line above my head and drag my foot to make a mark in the ground of how long I was.

Next I began gathering twigs and more stones.  I made a campfire site and grabbed an old pot that my mother had given my sister and I to bang around outside.  I filled it with water from the hose, added dirt, stones and grass.  (I was making stew.  I loved my mother\'s hamburger stew!)

At one point, my sister came down and helped but she was a year younger than me and at three years old, she soon got bored with my project and went back up to the house.

One of the few baby pictures of me that I have, Sister on my right

Sandy was Four, I was Five Photo taken 1969 Moscow Road, Gap Pennsylvania

I worked on this all day.  I don\'t even remember going in for lunch, but soon, my father came down and told me we were getting ready to leave.  I asked if we would be back before dark because I wanted to camp out.  I remember the look in his face and now that I think about it, he was not taking me seriously.

We got back and it was well after dark.  As a matter of fact, it was our bed time.  I was bound and determined to sleep at the campsite I had spent all day making.  My father tried to talk me out of it, to the point of even asking me "aren\'t you afraid of the dark?"

We had 26 German Shepherds in a kennel not more than 100 yards from where I would be laying.  Who was going to bother me?  I knew this.  I told him, "I am not afraid."  I pointed toward the kennel. "I am protected."  I could see he really did not want me to stay out there. 

I walked over to my stone-lined bed and I laid down.  My father stood there in the dark, the flood light on the front of the house silhouetting him.  He watched me for a minute, then went into the house.

I laid on the ground, without a blanket and my arm tucked under my head.  I was four years old.  I remember the coolness of the night (It was summer), the smell of the dirt and the glare from the floodlight in my eyes.

My father came back out sometime later with a blanket and put it over me.  

"Are you sure you don\'t want to come in?  I would really rather you slept in the house."

I shook my head no and said, "God will watch over me.  He made the dogs." and I closed my eyes.  No more argument.  My father turned and left.

Some time later, I heard a sudden burst of barking from the kennel area.  I did what I heard my mother do so often when something riled them.  I leaned up and yelled over, "Be quiet!"  Then laid back down.

They quieted a bit, but then began a burst of barking again.  I leaned up and looked over toward the kennel.

Off to the side, back deeper in the trees, I saw a white, square facing me, up off the ground.  It was back beyond the kennel a bit.  I heard a growl, "ehhhhhhhhhh....."

Was I afraid?  No, I was a bit angry.  I got up out of my stone-lined bed on the ground, picked up a sizable rock and yelled at the white, square entity in the woods.  "If you don\'t go away, I will hit you with this rock!"

I then walked up to the house, climbed onto the front porch.  Inside the picture window, I could see my mother watching t.V.  I knocked on the glass.

My mother looked up.  I said to her, "There is a giant Easter bunny in the woods bothering me and making the dogs bark."

Her look of suppressed amusement escaped me back then, but she said, "Did you want to come inside?"

I said back through the window, "No, because if he comes any closer, I\'m gonna hit him with this rock!"

My mother\'s eyes got real big but she said nothing.  I walked back down to my campsite.  The dogs had calmed down but were still barking a bit. The "giant, square Easter bunny" was gone.  I laid back down and went to sleep.

Something woke me.  A daddy-long-leg spider was crawling over my face.  I brushed it out of the way.  I noticed it was a bit chilly and dew had begun falling.  I felt damp but pulled the blanket up over me.  I was half asleep when I heard footsteps.  I knew by the sound they were my fathers footsteps.

I pretended I was asleep.  He simply leaned down, scooped me up holding me against his nice warm chest.  He smelled so good.  He turned back toward the house with me in his arms.  I continued to pretend I was asleep.  I remember falling back asleep against him in his arms, feeling protected, feeling I had won something.  I was asleep before we even entered the house.

I found out years later that the "giant, square, white Easter bunny" was my father in a t-shirt, trying to scare me back into the house.  

The year I turned six is the year my parents lost everything in a lawsuit after a car accident.  That year I got a beating from my father that changed our relationship forever and began the end of our family.  I remember it being a really bad, dark time and that independence that my parents bread into me was going to be my only security after my father left us.

In hindsight, I look back and remember my escapes.  My drawings, my reading, my singing with my sister and my writing of stories and of course my grandparents, one weekend a month.  From the age of eight I scripted my own role playing with the paper dolls I drew.  From their I gradually promoted my paper dolls to portaits of people . . . always with the large, childlike eyes.  

When I first began looking into Michael\'s life, I felt from him what I had missed.  When I saw his intense calling to help children, I understood it and it also helped me understand the need to give to another child what one didn\'t have themselves.  It heals you.

From the time I was eight years old, I learned to find ways to heal myself, but I wasn\'t doing it myself.  My mother began praying right around the time my father left us.  My sister and I began riding a Sunday School bus that would come into our new neighborhood to pick up children interested in going.  My mother was never a church goer.  This is where I began really learning about God.  It would take me a lifetime of lessons to learn what it was God gave me.

Michael\'s picture sleeping in the limo entices visions of placing Michael into Miss Katherine\'s lap, with her arms holding him close.  It reminds me of all the times during road trips I would look over and see my own sons sleeping, knowing they never had to live with the insecurity that I did.  That healed me.

Watching videos of Michael holding orphaned babies that rarely received that depth of care, was healing.

Looking up in prayer, realizing that a voluntarily uttered prayer to ask for the pain of another just freed you from every single bit of poison you ever carried in your heart is not only healing . . . it is redeeming.

I remember the first time I heard the Carnegie speeches and the Oxford Speech by Michael.  He was trying to get "Heal the Children" off the ground.  That was another half a day of crying.

Michael \'s mention of the lack of parental involvement in most children\'s upbringings contributing to the lack of empathy toward others, violence and complacency in affecting their own futures is spot on.

The most important part of a child\'s development is the closeness of and the involvement of their parents in their lives.

Today, holding your child close to you can be used against you in a court of law.  What they did to Michael was probably the most evil example of that.  What a way to send a message to people to discourage wanting to help anyone!

The laws in this country and the introduction of legislation increasingly separate parent from child, as if the state, and not YOU have your child\'s best interest in heart.

In some European countries, parents are separated from their children and made to endure psychiatric testing simply for attempting to home school them, and that parent must comply if they ever want to see their child again!  We are not far behind in this country!

The attempts Michael made to get "Heal the World" and "Heal the Children" off the ground were followed by Martin Bashir\'s reprehensible documentary resulting in an investigation and trial that should have never happened!

Gloria Allred\'s campaign to remove Michael\'s children from him before the case ever went to trial, the framing and absolutely draconian investigation and horrific court case should have never, ever been allowed to happen if our Constitution had been followed.

It doesn\'t have to be that way.  Children do not have to be or feel lonely.  

Parents do not have to leave the raising of their children to the T.V., the internet or the music industry.  In all honesty, parents do not even have to leave the raising of their children to the schools or "Head Start" programs.

Your children are YOUR gift from God, not theirs.  It is your responsibility to make sure they are loved and feel loved.  Don\'t give that job to the government.   You see the results of what happens when you do.

Michael was lucky in that God surrounded him with his gift.  Michael\'s gift protected him from a childhood of the world, from the steering mechanisms of our "enlightened" society.  Michael did a lot of Bible reading on his own.  He also did a lot of other reading on his own.  So far, this is still allowed.

History, philosophy, theology and civilization.  He saw the patterns.  No, Sony didn\'t invent them.  Michael knew what was going on.

Michael Jackson was a celebrity.  But he has also always been a faithful man, a generous man, an incredibly loving man and a very knowledgeable man.  I also believe that his incredible strength in his faith allowed God to open his eyes to see things that many others have their eyes closed to.

All he ever did and all he was ever guilty of, is in trying to open our eyes to those things.  He wanted help in protecting the children from them.  That is all.

The "Bill of Rights" that Michael proposed to those attending the speech at Oxford:

I would therefore like to propose tonight that we install in every home a Children\'s Universal Bill of Rights, the tenets of which are:

3. The right to feel valuable, even if you came into the world with nothing

5. The right to be read a bedtime story, without having to compete with the evening news

6. The right to an education without having to dodge bullets at schools

7. The right to be thought of as adorable - (even if you have a face that only a mother could love).

1.  Michael, you never had to earn love.  You were proof that unconditionally, God offered that before anyone else to you.

2. You deserved to be protected. I prayed about it.  I was told you were.

3. You did everything you could to show us the unconditional love and that God believes we are valuable enough to have died for us.

4. You were always interesting, which is why some found it hard to really LISTEN to you. :o)

5. I would read you a bedtime story, but you would have to come to MY house.  I don\'t like the evening news.  I like stories with happy endings.

6. When God was allowed in the schools, we didn\'t seem to have this problem of dodging bullets.

7. Heh . . . I don\'t even have to say. Consider your cheeks pinched. 

Please love your children.  Hold them, rock to them, sing to them, TELL them that you love them, no matter how old they are.  It is not too late to start.

How we would all like to see him sleeping - With a Smile on his Face

Labels: Bonnie Cox, childhood, children, God, love, Michael Jackson, security

The picture of Michael kissing the baby is very cute...

Bonnie – I love, love that picture Michael sleeping in the car. I keep staring at it to find out why I love about it. Maybe it looks he is resting peacefully and I don’t know why.

What a wonderful memory of your father. To tell you the truth, I was reading curiously knowing in my mind something wonderful or something surprising I would encounter if I keep reading. Sure indeed it was your father’s love when you said, “He simply leaned down, scooped me up holding me against his nice warm chest. …..feeling protected, feeling I had won something. I was asleep before we even entered the house.”

Sometimes some parents have hard times to show their love and care to their children for the reason I don’t know. Maybe it’s how they grew up and their families never showed them love either. I believe all parents love their children even though they don’t express it. Sometimes it’s hard for children to know if their families love them or not if they don’t show them or tell them somehow.

Michael’s Oxford speech is the most powerful one. I love his Children’s Universal Bill of Rights; I wish it is given to all mothers and fathers the day their children born as a gift from the hospital. I wish all midwifes who deliver babies in the house also have Children’s Universal Bill of Rights to give to the families. I wish, wish, and wish. It would be a reminder to the fathers and mothers what they need to do in caring to their children and as a result create love and peace in them.

Even though Michael spends most of his young age in studio rehearsing and performing in different clubs, I believe whenever he got home to his mother, she showed him unconditional love, hugging him and telling him how much she loved him. She has got to do this, otherwise why he said that she is the most loving mother in the world; and he said, “I can’t see growing up without a mother’s love”? I believe he learned the power of love from her. I truly do, and he extended it to all humanity as God intended.

Exodus said - "The picture of Michael kissing the baby is very cute..."

>>> One of my favorites. I have about a dozen of him kissing babies and little people.

Mimi said - "I keep staring at it to find out why I love about it. "

>>> Let me help you out. For me, it's because he looks like a little kid. It is on my list of things I would most like to know that Michael is doing . . . which is RESTING!

I remember my father being a quiet and very tall man. When he left I had forgotten what he looked like. Between the age of 8 and eleven, I did not see him, then again between the ages of 12 and 17, I did not see him. My sister and I kind of forced the issue when we drove to New Jersey one day, with a map. We knew what street he lived on and we just asked around until we found him. He showed up, surprising me one night when I was singing at the Triple Nickel Saloon. My mother I think told him but she didn't tell me. I cried on stage. If I had known ahead of time, I would have changed that one song song I was singing.

It seems like I've always had to fight to maintain or restart a relationship with him. He's still alive, but he never calls, I always have to call him and you know . . . you just get fed up. That dream I had a couple months back about him not helping me up onto the loading dock, I mean, that was just it. I'm done.

I wonder if Michael ever felt like that, when he was going through all this garbage, and he listens to people like Courtland and Taraborrelli and those "friends" tell their audiences "Oh we loved him" and they didn't do a damned thing to help him . . . or when fans run out and buy that traitor album. Artists that repeatedly spew how much Michael inspired them and where were they??? Where?

It's one thing to witness the sacrifice a person makes, but when nobody learns from it or takes up the staff after he falls? That hurts. Stories aren't supposed to end like that.

Thank you Bonnie for sharing your memories with us. I have many regrets and longings for my childhood but there are three things I always desired in my world. The first was to belong to a peaceful home. The second was to have a doll to play with as I saw other kids with their dolls and the the last was to feel precious and be picked up in either my father or my mother's arms. So, I can understand how your memory of being picked up by your father must have felt so special.

I truly did my utmost to ensure that I gave my own daughter as many happy memories as were possible when she was growing up but especially love and making her feel precious.

The thought of Michael watching over his three angels while they were asleep brings me joy. I'm sure he did it often and I'm sure he gave thanks to God for the gift of his children. No matter how people judge and attack Debbie Rowe, I actually think she gave Michael the most selfless and precious gift of all.

Bonnie, you know how I feel about the limo photo, so I just wanted to share the comment I posted on your FB page tonight and some additional thoughts here.

Another wonderful blog! That photo of Michael is one of my favorites. To see his long legs and foot halfway out of his shoe touches my heart like you can't imagine. These unguarded moments show how real, sweet and vulnerable Michael was. Like so many others, he was a lost child himself, but kept his inner child alive by bringing happiness to other children. Those who are blessed with their own children need to regard them as Michael did...as God's most precious gift.

And I loved your childhood story about your little "camp site." Reading about the special memory you had of your father, I was struck by a bittersweet irony. When I think back to my own childhood, I can recall a memory with my father that gave me a similar feeling to what you described. And we have Michael's touching recollection of his father placing him on a pony. The "sweet" irony for the three of us is that we each have a fond memory to cherish. The "bitter" irony is that we wish there had been more than one. But perhaps that one memory of a protective gesture or affection given freely was enough to know that we were loved. Michael was not only generous and forgiving. He was wise. Correction...IS wise. ♥

Bonnie, as always, I appreciate your sensitivity 'but especially the phrase:

"How we would all like to see him sleeping - With a Smile on his Face"

What a wonderful heartfelt post, Bonnie. Thank you :)

That photo of Michael sleeping in the limo makes my heart go out to him. But then he looks so at peace.

I listen to Michael's speech at Oxford all the time. Anytime that I feel low or down I listen to it. I wish we could hear more inspiring talks from Michael.

And I loved your story it brought tears to my eyes. Thank you. :)

Bonnie said,"It's one thing to witness the sacrifice a person makes, but when nobody learns from it or takes up the staff after he falls? That hurts. Stories aren't supposed to end like that. "

I share that thought. I believe thats the bases of MJ's passing. He is trying in his artistic way to bring us to the light because humanity has been led into the darkness. Its a heavy message but he is using some humor to lighten the load but the message is there. The question is; will we accept it and more importantly will we act on it?

I read on FB you and someone else were wondering about the identity of the sleeping man in the limo. It is Deepak Chopra.

Karin said - "I have many regrets and longings for my childhood but there are three things I always desired in my world. The first was to belong to a peaceful home. The second was to have a doll to play with as I saw other kids with their dolls and the the last was to feel precious and be picked up in either my father or my mother's arms. "

>>> Awww Karin. I think you have shared a little bit of what you have been through before If I'm not mistaken, it was a while ago. And if you had lived near me, I would have gladly given you a few of my dolls. My grandfather, when he came to visit, was everyone's grandfather and I didn't like it much, LOL!

Spotlight said - "That photo of Michael is one of my favorites. To see his long legs and foot halfway out of his shoe touches my heart like you can't imagine."

>>> You think about a foot outside his shoe and I noticed the fedora sliding to the side in his lap. It also conjures up images of the foot powder commercial where the puppy brings the man's slippers to him, then passes out at his feet. Why? I need a new brain!

Daniela said - ""How we would all like to see him sleeping - With a Smile on his Face"

Spring 77 said -"That photo of Michael sleeping in the limo makes my heart go out to him. But then he looks so at peace."

>>> I agree. He looks safe, but I would still feel better if I saw Miss Katherine beside him sleeping instead of Chopra.

Miss Shae - "He is trying in his artistic way to bring us to the light because humanity has been led into the darkness. Its a heavy message but he is using some humor to lighten the load but the message is there."

>>> I thought a lot about this statement of yours and truthfully, in part this had me crying today while I was writing the blog update for today. It made me angry also that nobody took him seriously unless he was on stage. Well???? Break a leg, Mike!

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We are living in Biblically significant Times. Ironically it was the most persecuted man in modern history that lead me to dig deeper into the Bible and taught me more about God than any other human being on the planet. And that man is Michael Jackson. I started a blog to defend him. I ended up researching him and learned just why they were after him. They did everything they could to shut him down. In the song "Cry" he said "take over for me", so that is what I am doing. God bless that man and his faith and strength

"Like the Bible says. A child should be leader of them all, and to be led by that kind of innocence. Didn\'t Jesus say \'bring on the children?\' Be like the children. Not childish, but child-like. That kind of innocence."

"Children show me in their playful smiles the divine in everyone. This simple goodness shines straight from their hearts and only asks to be lived." Michael Jackson Oprah Winfrey Interview

"I avoid using the term \'religion\', because many people say \'my religion\' this and \'my religion\' that. Why should it be \'my\' religion? I just believe what’s in the Bible with regard to which religion is involved. I simply believe.... I believe in it and I get down on my knees every night and thank God and ask Him to lead the way."