The Definition of True Worship

Two days ago I was sitting drinking coffee with my lovely wife, discussing the concept of “Worship” when we read it in the pages of the book we are reading together? To be honest, the concept, as well as the practice, seemed to be something I have struggled with perhaps the majority of my adult life, or at least from the time I can say that I have been actively engaged in the arena of at least trying to “follow God.”

What exactly is worship? And while I had the privilege in my own past to play a musical instrument, and be a part of a “worship service” band, I can say that the actual feeling of worship as well as the desire to enter into it, seemed to escape me? Plus reading passages in the Bible where statements are made of people or angels worshiping God for extended periods of time, even weeks or years, not only baffled me but is some cases even scared me, as I contemplated the translations of my own guilt-laden boredom with the mere twenty or thirty minutes I had in church, extending to periods over months if not more?

I went to bed or perhaps relaxed, and as I began to doze off an image came into my head from my own young family life experience, and I felt God may have been answering my own questions, even one I hardly realized I asked? I have an overwhelming feeling to put that image onto the paper after discussing it with Anna this morning.

I was transported and see before me, my own small child Grace as a baby, sitting on the floor in front of me. What was amazing was the image I could see was one where I am looking at the scene from directly behind her and I can at the same time also see myself sitting on the couch off to her right watching her play?

I say I can see myself because I am sort of watching her, and watching myself watch her even as the scene unfolds before me. There is a look on my own face, as I watch my sweet child just sit there playing before me of pure happiness. And while I probably couldn’t do it justice, let’s just say I don’t think I could ever remember myself being that happy as I witness myself at this moment, the look was unmistakable. Perhaps the only word that I could possibly come up with, that could even remotely describe the look on my own face I was witnessing; is utter bliss.

My little daughter cannot be even a year old yet, because she doesn’t seem to be old enough to stand up on her own, but she is sitting unsupported. She is from the vantage point I am observing, now right directly behind her, clearly sitting looking or playing with something in her hands. 

My own eye must have the supernatural ability to simultaneously look from behind her and at the same time, not only see what she is examining in her precious hands but also the look on her face as she examines it? She is just sitting there looking at a simple small rectangular toy, perhaps a small woodblock over and over in her hand as she carefully examines it, studying it,  turning it over, again and again, studying each side as if the new side is suddenly and excitedly new once again.

Her face is one of complete contemplation but also happy and smiling satisfaction as she looks at the block, turns it over, looks at the other side, and then looks at the other side again, studying it and smiling in her thorough happy exam. I think I even softly hear her quiet voice a soft cooing soundly as she again discovers a once again new side.

I am amazed at her complete peacefulness and thoroughness that she places on this simple item, the locking of her gaze, not want to miss a single atom of the precious treasure that has suddenly found its way into her hands.

For a moment she almost seemed to get so enamored by her activity she almost forgot I was there, but suddenly she stops and turns needed to make sure I still was. She stops and looks up to me sitting on the couch next to her, watching her. She gives me a happy satisfied smile, almost as a response, and just as quickly returns her gaze to the object of her attention. Because just as fast she looked at me, she was is right back looking at the block again starting to rotate it around in her hand as she examines one side and then another.

Again my eye goes back to myself sitting on the couch and the look on my own face as I seem to realize myself she is just making sure I am still there, her father, safely watching her as she plays. A wave of personal satisfaction as my own fatherly pride self seems to know what possibly she must have thought, at least realized with the look on his face; “Yep, dad is still there, I am safe, protected, loved, even being watched in interest and smiles.”

Again she suddenly stops, looks again at me on the couch, but this time reaches out with the outstretched arm to show her dad with a giving smile, the block in her hand. Looking up at him and lifting it up, she smiles with such joy and loving participation, wanting me clearly to see, or wishing to show me the wonderful treasure she has just discovered.

I cannot begin to describe the feeling I see on my own face as I look at the wonderful smiling bright loving eyes of my child, reaching up and wanting to share her new discovery with me, her precious treasure. At this moment she is giving me a true experience of life, and love all wrapped up in a single wonderful, yes; “wonder”-“full” wooden block.

This I feel in my heart and realize immediately in my own thoughts; “This Is the Definition of True Worship”

“God loves to watch us experience His gifts He gives us, loves it more when we look to make sure He watching and loves it the most when we reach out and share our wooden blocks with Him.”


Thank You Grace my sweet daughter for that wonderful memory, and thank you God for that fatherly experience.

By Peter Colla


“Dear Lord, help me remember that You, as a Father loves to watch each of us, oh so much more than I could ever begin to. And Lord help me remember to appreciate every gift you give me in this life even the most precious little wooden blocks.”

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The Dam Has Broken!

42-33943705I had a dream, and in my vision within the dream I saw a great build up of debris holding back the waters of a clear beautiful creek. Clay and dead timbers and all sorts of discarded objects were used to form up an ever increasing barrier, higher and thicker until it took the shape and form a large dam.

It was clear the dam was being built up by the enemy, for it was grey and cold, its rough surface in no way demonstrated anything but harsh resilience against the waters that were behind. The sky was churning with darkened greys swirling onninessness of white towering clouds, not dark because of the enemy, but because of the anger that was brewing in spirit of God.

Gods blessings of a very long time were sitting behind that dam, denied to the people down in the valley below! Gods waters were being built up, held back, denied from the people down river who have been thirsty, almost choking for its few drops. The enemy could not take the waters for itself but could hold it back, denying the children its existence. Yet the flow continued and up the dam it had to grow, higher along the canyon walls, the dams’ claw like talons holding tightly to the rock walls as the accumulating reservoir continued to grow every day.

I looked at the grey rough face of the dam and suddenly I noticed small cracks and droplets of water forming on its vast cold now concrete like surface. These watery appearances were becoming more and more frequent, a few even began spraying forth with popping sound as small rumbles of greater pressures hidden within suddenly erupted sending it small pieces of degree hurtling into the now vast chasm down the cannoned valley.

I saw more and more cracks, and in the darkened sky I suddenly heard the ominous sound of the alarm, a great siren warning the people below of some impending danger.

My eye immediately goes to the valley where I see the people down in the deepest recesses of the city, some of them looking up at the sound, a few casually dismissing the siren as “just another warning test, nothing to be alarmed about, they are just testing the system again.”

Many go right back to the business they continued with before, busy in the muck and mire of the very middle of the valley streets. The deeper within the valley the more prominent as well as dark the sewer filth that flows down the middle of these streets seem.

Especially the people in the lowest part of the city, the sewer filth is the strongest, they play and wash their clothes in the refuse. The high walled buildings and busy roadways make it hard for the people here to even see the fact that they are deep in the valley. Many of these don’t even take the time to look up from the sound but ignore it altogether.

A few of these individuals although, try to move out away from this deep center, the panic of the distant siren having at least some small effect on these. All these people seem to frantically asking each other if they should at least try to make it to higher ground?

Further away from the center, the people can hear the sirens more clearly and they are more aware as well as a bit alarmed by the loud sound, many more of them actually start moving towards the edge town quickly trying to get to the foothills of the mountains that line the valley.

As we look at the  foothills we see people who were slowly walking up now running up the mountains. Some frantic almost pulling their friends out of the way or stepping over others to get up.

Then there are those already at the top, some of these are actually coming down trying to help the others up to the top yelling out their own warning of the dam which is about to break.

I look back at the dam which is now squirting out water from many fishers simultaneously like many dozen high powered fire hoses, a thick blanket of water is already pouring down the cold dark surface of the dam.The many attendants of the dam are now frantically leaving the facilities trying themselves to escape, they appear from the distance to scatter like cockroaches when the light is turned on. Many of these have no idea which way to go and run into each other, even throw each other off the road as they mouth their silent screams, which have no chance to be heard over the loud sirens.

I then hear a great rumble like thunder or the deep echos of an underground atomic bomb, and with a great cracking noise like a thousand explosions all at once, the ground shakes with a sudden movement as what clearly feels like an earthquake irrupts underfoot and the center of the dam immediately starts to shift with a screeching low pitched grind. A great wall of water over a thousand feet tall presses through all at once and falls through the dam, crashing into the open space right below. All the water of the huge reservoir that had been held behind flows through like a gigantic lake just following in one solid block, taring the cement, walls, buildings and remaining structures of the dam with them, as they crash forward down the chasm of the canyon into the valley below.

All the people feel the huge sound and even feel the ground shutter as the sound reverberates through their very being like thunder striking deep under their feet. All are frozen in awestruck fear as they look up the valley into the canyon to witness the origin of the sound they already fear as doom coming.

There is an ere silence for a moment right after the initial shaking as people just all just stare in still confused realization as what their eyes are registering suddenly takes shape. The huge wall of water rumbling down the face of the mountain upon the canyon in front of them turning and plowing buildings trees and electric poles like they are toothpicks suddenly manifests itself like some sleeping elephant that suddenly rolling to its other side.

The people deepest in the valley are swallowed up by the churning debris which looks more like a sideways rolling tornado than any water wall now. Constructs of tumbling building and all manners of churning materials form a juggernaut of power and destruction as the front wall slams into more waiting buildings.

The crashing sound is quickly followed by a thundering roar almost like hearing an enormous lion roar with your ear right next to his mouth, the water flows past the more sturdy brick built buildings clearly built on rock. Its cascading waters filling the streets in center of the valley to the brim with material, all forms of plants, soil and cascading movement, creating a scene of almost solid movement. In the deepest center of town the whole dark muddy gulley in the middle seems to now be sliding itself down the valley as if pushed up into a massive heap of muck dissolving as it goes under the churning waters and white frothy foam.

All the people running towards the foothills, while some seem to be pushed down stream a bit, other were close enough to the high edges or firm foundations to lift themselves out of the danger even as they realize how far they were in, or with what manner they can lift themselves out. Some even attempt themselves to help others close to them especially the weak or young from the seemingly angry ravaging waters.

The very young seem instinctively to know how to climb trees or other structures to just get out of the reaches of the raging torrents. Some of these very young on the contrary, even jumped into the more calm waters on the edges playing in their crystal blue and white spray, satisfying weeks even years of thirst as theirs fear is suddenly turned for them into blessings.

As the rumbling torrent quickly passes people begin to walk out of the hidden refuges of their homes just to look with amazement at the now clear stream that has replaced the filthy sewer down the center of their town. They walk up to its edge with smiling amazement, and reach down with expected hands as they cup for themselves cool fresh waters lifting it with eager anticipation to their thirsty lips.

The clouds part, and the angry sky is replaced by light beams shining down along the glistening shores of diamond sparkled drops of heavenly waters, resting softly on the fingertips of leaves, grasses, the soft edges of peoples homes, reflecting the colors only moments away from the same soft touches of their own sweet smiles.

By Peter Colla

page1image544“Dear Lord thank you for releasing the blessings that have been dammed up by the enemy, help us all to hear and heed the signs of your warnings as delivernse is turned into bliss.”



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The Bricklayer’s Dream

downloadI had an image appear in the early morning whispers that awaken from the dreams of my mind. One of a bricklayer sitting on a small stool and laying bricks along a cobblestone road in some remote village street perhaps in the European countryside of some not so distant land or past. He is casually sitting on the simplest of wooden stools humming to himself and smiling at the passers by. He hardly seems to be concentrating on the rapid motion of both of his hands as he places brick after brick into their perfect place, repeatedly, and I may add, meticulously forming patterns in the road in such a perfectly flat and uniform patterns it seems like it could only be done by some sophisticated machine.

He speedily moves up the path scooting his wooden stool over the now recently finished part of the road he had just completed, moving the stool so often it appears that he hardly sits for a few seconds and then he has to hop the stool again a few feet further. Other workers are all around him, some in front of him preparing the sand, raking and smoothing the section he is moving towards, others bringing and stacking bricks in front of his hands. All of these move in almost frenzied worry trying to stay ahead of the bricklayer as he just smiles and continues. These men and their nervousness to prepare the path sufficiently with adequate speed to keep just ahead of the bricklayer do nothing to diminish his mood as the casual smile or occasional greeting to a passer by, always remaining at what seems to be the most peaceful casualness. He continues to move up the road at what seems an almost impossible pace.

So many bricks are being placed so fast his hands are almost a blur as he places one with his right hand, then another with his left; back and forth while he only sways with the most insignificant motion, like the gentle sway of tree in the afternoon breeze. Less experienced younger men are straining, hurrying to dump wheelbarrows full of bricks right next and in the path of each of his hands so all the bricklayer needs to do is reach out and take the next brick needing to be placed. The motion involved, and all around the bricklayer seems to suggest that he is delivering exactly what he needs to do in the task he has been given, doing it is a way that is exceedingly appreciated.

Even his boss who watches from a casual distance has a smile of satisfaction watching him, a clear pride for having such a valued worker on his team. For why would the boss of the road construction company give this bricklayer so many helpers if he didn’t think the man was valuable? Other bricklayer’s at other places along the road seem to be moving much slower and have to go get their own bricks or only have one or two persons helping them.

I think I know this man of my dream, as someone out of my past life experience, perhaps a friend I knew years ago, long before I began doing the work I am doing today. When I think of the man of my own memory, in any context, I always see him in my mind with a smile on his face, a cigaret dangling from his mouth, even while running or playing sport. His full bearded face embracing the smile that seems to always be on his lips, that and the obvious strength, his back clearly demonstrating muscular strength only usually seen on the most accomplished powerlifters, yet I know he probably never lifted a single barbel in his life or spent even a minute in the gym. He didn’t need to, he lifted two pound bricks at least a hundred times a minute all day, every day, his whole adult life.

If someone was to ask me what the bricklayer looks like, I might describe long blond hair, stocky looking like a cross between a short, smoking, brick laying version of Thor, and maybe what Santa Claus might have looked like when he was in his late twenties? That and the fact he was wearing wooden shoes to his work place did seem to make him look more like a village farmer in Eastern Europe than anyone a person might expect to see in their normal life today.

Not everybody needed to use the roads he worked on, but for the people who did happen to use these roads, they seemed to be clean roads, good roads, roads that were designed to bring destination and protection from the surrounding irregularities of the countrysides forests and weed lined road edges. These forests that were just a short distance from the road, they are thick growth, touching the autumn skies, giving the layered green canopy a mysterious darkness under, not frightening, just a tint of unknowing that leaves people with a calm reassurance, they receive at least, a feeling granted them by walking on the road, the safety of not having to venture forward through the darker unknown forest.   

The many people who passed by the bricklayer greet him, and if they didn’t first, he greeted them, that was when they lifted their heads for a moment from the road to look up at him as they walked by or when he greeted them. Everyone he met he seemed to like and they seemed to like him. The many that even smiled back with a greeting often bordered on genuine appreciation when they came to the place where he was working. For he was a skilled bricklayer, a seasoned road worker, and it has always been noble job with what seemed a noble cause; helping the many people who come by. Maybe not directly helping them, but indirectly for through his obvious talents the road seemed so smooth and perfectly created? Plus, it was because of his efforts they could travel down this particular part of the road he was working on. Smiles of appreciation for the work he did maintaining the road, laying the bricks on the road they needed to use.

He was not always so good at what he did, it was a skill he had to learn, but his own God given talents allowed him to hone the skill into something that others seemed to see as truly mystical, almost artistic, even at times miraculous. Yet, he was the first to remind them; “He was only a bricklayer, he just happen to be given some unique skills by God that allowed him to move in a way that a bit faster than most.”

The basic education of bricklaying was taught to all of them the same way, and in that, his own early development which was not much different than any of the other workers around him, everyone learns the same methods, works along the same way. But it was not long, perhaps only a single year before he and everyone else around him began to see the talent that laid in wait within, and he became quite fast and methodical at what he did, so much so, even getting a bit of a reputation for being one of the best bricklayer’s in the region. Maybe this is why his own body took on an image of the sort of strength mimicking the intended security and stability the road was supposed to perform. For let’s not forget, it was a road that brought the people where they thought not only they wanted to go, but needed to go in this junction of their life, in this corner of their soul, was it not? The bricks were merely the individual stepping stones along a much more complex and calculated system of transportation.

Maybe it was this added strength, the abilities that seemed to come naturally, maybe it was his desire not to just stare down at the ground, or look around at not only the people that came by, but anything; the trees, the birds, that prompted him to look at everyone who passed by, while also smiling and even enjoying the gifts of each day? An inquisitive spirit to observe rather than just stare at the ground and place brick after brick into its intended spot?

On this particular day he was working, then suddenly heard a faint cry in the weeds along the road, and he realized there was a poor unfortunate laying crying, maybe even dying in the ditch next to the road? While others kept busy or just kept meandering down the road, his attention was fixed on the sound coming from the ditch. Other workers made gestures with their faces, some demonstrating that they seemed to know of the sad sound, but kept at their road work, all walking by, most never even bothering to as much as turn their heads to even glanced this poor soul’s way. Some, many of which were co-workers of his own group, would venture the person in the ditch a quick glance, but quickly return their attention back to the task of the road, for nobody would help this person in the ditch. He decided to take a break and step off the road and look at what was going on. 

He reached down and pull the poor person out of the muck, brush off the dirt, and lift him back up to his feet. To the bricklayer’s amazement, the injured person felt immediately relieved and went his way without even needing to get back on the road. Dashing into the forest with hardly a glance back or even a casual goodbye. Many of his co-workers saw the interaction and stood there in amazement at what transpired, all of them “dumb founded,” even as much as he himself seemed to be. Were we all really “Founded So Dumb” the bricklayer thought to himself with a chuckle?

Suddenly while even still standing in the muck, our good bricklayer noticed another up along the road who also had fallen also into the muck, in the overgrown gulley that he never noticed was even along the edge next to the road. A great deal many people lying there, most face down struggling to even draw breath, many trying to push themselves with weak arms out of wet mud, or kicking in slippery black tar like stench trying to crawl out, all were in pain, all were crying and suffering. But also, he saw from this vantage point, the most subtle irregularities that were in the road, what seemed like the many slight flaws that were there, especially along the edge that may have caused these poor people to stumble and then fall into the ditch in the first place?

His first thoughts were to help some more of these poor people up ahead who had fallen, but there seemed to be so many, and with each step forward more and more came into his awareness as he looked up along the road. A few even tumbled into the ditch even in the place he just exited another. In front and behind him the gulley hidden in the weeds along the road stretched before him like some dark sewer hidden in the recesses of a weed infested swamp.

The first few he came too, he tried to help them in the same way he had helped the first one. Some of these individuals would get up and walk away happy, content in the same way the first guy did. Many others would quickly climb back onto the road and continue down the road often with hardly a glance back. A few of the people who did get back on the road, he noticed, would immediately hit another flaw in the road and tumble right back into the ditch again. There was a very few who even refused his help altogether, demanding he leave them alone, even pushing his hands away from any help he might offer, only wishing to lie in the ditch and suffer. It became immediately obvious that many of these particular few seemed to be in the ditch by their own choosing, not wishing to leave, seemingly feeling a liking to the attention they received from their aching cries or complaints.

After a while of attending to the first people he helped out of the ditch, he went back to his bricklaying job but also started to fixed a few of the flaws he had witnessed in his direct vicinity, and at the end of his shift reported back to his boss about what he found. The first reaction of the boss was positive, but quickly changed, and soon it became evident, if not directly, but eventually in writing; “That he wasn’t getting paid to help people out of the ditch, he was getting paid to lay bricks, at least to concern himself with the people using the road, and that’s all.”

But how could he ignore all the people in the ditch, in his heart he couldn’t just leave them there, so he helped them anyway, explaining each in their turn how to ovoid the flaws the road seemed to have. It became evident to everyone, including the boss, if he spent so much time helping the people out of ditch, he couldn’t lay as many bricks as efficiently as before, at first his pay suffered, but soon he was called back into the office with the boss.

The boss expressed concern he wasn’t working as efficiently as he had been before, it seemed the result was there was less people needing to use the road as often? But the brick layer explained, while that may be true, his primary work was helping the people on the road, wasn’t that why he was there for in the first place? Plus, he was still able to lay more bricks than his colleagues, he was, in truth, laying a much more positive road now without the flaws, safer for the people to continue down without as much risk to falling along the way. Less people falling off the road, meant a better road, and ultimately a better reputation for the boss and the company? Perhaps this may ultimately lead to more people wishing to use their road?

One thing was for sure, this explained why everyone who used the road seemed to stare at the ground, maybe it was either they sensed the flaws or at least were fearful of them, ether way the flaws seemed everywhere along the edges. Maybe that is why everyone who used the road seemed depressed, their eyes were being depressed into the ground!

Before the conversation was over, as an added bonus, the bricklayer presented the boss with a written report of the various flaws he found in the road, along with simple techniques and cost effective changes that could eliminate them forever throughout the company so others would not fall into the ditch. The boss thanked him for the list, then fired him on the spot and told him if he said anything about what was said regarding his time working on the road, any of the people he helped in the ditches, or the flaws, he would sue him and do everything in his power to ruin or destroy the brick layer as well as his family. The boss threw his list in the trash and said with a smirk; “If you don’t like it take me to court.”

The bricklayer went to work for other companies, for he was bricklayer, and he needed to feed his family. But he quickly found many of the same flaws and likewise people in the ditches along the roads, some with terrible issues, sicknesses even cancers often caused by again the faults or the black tar like toxins in the road. How could he ignore them, especially the crying pleas of the suffering children? All of them he even begged not to tell anyone, especially the bosses, of the help they received, because he knew it would mean his job, but they always seemed too, or someone standing off to the side would see and report him, and of course within moments of these reports he would find himself sacked again? He lost job after job, position after position, and even found out one day his original boss was calling ahead and slandering the bricklayer with lies to convince the new bosses to fire him immediately.

He then decided he wouldn’t work for a company unless they had a policy in place to  help the people in the ditches and or correct the flaws in the roads. In some cases he was even specifically hired by the owners of these companies to eliminate the very flaws that they themselves had already realized existed. But here again the minute he either helped someone out of a ditch, even sometimes through instructing other co-workers how they might, or actively fixed any flaws himself, even a single brick, a sort of attack dog; an almost Rottweiler looking person showed its vicious teeth and eliminated him. Usually this one appeared in the form of a supervisor, or assistant executive of the company, one would rise up and command him first to stop helping others, later slander and ultimately try to destroy him as well. One or more of these Rottweiler looking individuals even went so far as to dismantle entire companies and destroy departments of major multi-state organizations rather than let any of the road fixing processes take hold. They seemed willing to cut their own throats rather than let any procedure take hold that could help the roads become better.

All the major and most of the successful companies quickly began to ignore his pleas, the smaller ones didn’t seem to dare to contemplate such a seemingly radical thought or willing to go against the wishes of his first boss. When it came to even admitting the flaws were there, even though many of the larger companies, frankly the entire industry, reluctantly did admit it already existed. Soon they even turned away from his offer for service in any way, not being interested in his bricklaying skills at any price, often telling him he was overqualified to lay the bricks and they needed a younger person, someone in their words; “They could mold into the model and beliefs of their company!” It became evident to the bricklayer that the big bosses not only wanted, but may have intentionally designed the roads to cause people to fall into the ditches in the first place, seemingly wanting the people to lie in the ditch and suffer. Becoming, as it were, a prisoner of the road! Somebody did design the flaws and dug those ditches that where along the road, didn’t they?

Quickly and finally the bricklayer realized the only way he could have any hope of really helping anyone avoid the traps that seemed to be lurking in the ditches along the roads, was to start his own road making company. No need to have a ditch if the people didn’t fall off the road, and if the flaws were gone, no stumbling, people could look up when they used his road, faithful that no flaws were there. But here too, all the contracts for the roads were being sponsored by the big contracting companies, any payments for the bricklaying needed to go through them, and they would not pay him unless he held to the strict designs of the roads; they wanted their constructs to include everything they expected from the other companies which clearly included the ditches and especially the flaws.

The bricklayer went on and started just helping the people out of the ditches, preparing the roads where he could, often on his own or even in secret. And while the many people in the ditches were pleasantly thankful for what he did for each of them individually, nobody ever offered him any supportive thanks for his help, not even a bite to eat or a drink of a cup to help feed his children. They all seemed to look at him with confused looks; “doesn’t or shouldn’t your boss pay you to help us since we all fell while using the road, are you not a bricklayer, isn’t it your job to fix the road?”

The big bosses seemed to not pay him any attention anymore, yet they did actually the opposite and paid close attention to him, secretly schemed and plotted to slander, even destroy him and his family any chance they had, remaining true on their promise; “To destroy him and his family if the bricklayer didn’t do exactly what they said.” Without putting his finger on exactly what or when, the bricklayer himself seemed to have increasingly bad financial luck and suffer setbacks all around. People stealing from him, even the little he had, doors closing for no apparent reason, promises made for business or help and then suddenly nothing as these good people just vanished. It was as is a carpet would be placed under him to give him hope and then suddenly be yanked out from under him for no other reason than to watch him fall.

The old boss kept making up reasons to pull him into court, all along laughing because he didn’t care win or lose, breaking the bricklayer was his goal. Could it be possible the big bosses are trying to destroy his family like some jealous beast only wanting to take that few peddle’s in his meager garden of land, that single blooming flower, or some precious young lamb he happen to have, just because they happen to want it, and rather than use one of the many the boss has, or rather than looking at the vast forest they possess, the great abundance he has in his own yard? I didn’t make sense.

One day as he worked secretly fixing the ditches along the road a great leader of the land came by, a truly good man who not only loved the land and its people in word and promise, but expresses it in every thought and deed he performed. He had been gone for a while and now it was time for him to return. He spots the bricklayer digging along the ditches, sweating hot in the sun, straining on the shovel, dirty, worn and tired. “When did you become a ditch digger?” the great man asks as he looks on to the brick layer leaning tired and heavy against the shovel?

“Im not a ditch digger, I pulled a person out of this ditch and now I’m repairing the land here, because these ditches catch people in the muck and mire.” “Maybe if I fix a little of the land here, get rid of the mud, when the people fall in they won’t get so stuck?” “That’s my thought, anyway?”

“Does it work?” the rich man says.

“I don’t know I just got started.”

“Who’s paying you to do that?” the man asks with a confused look on his face.

“Nobody, as a matter of fact if the people who make the roads knew I was doing it they would probably call the police to stop me.”

“Well, I’m not trying to stop you, but I have come here to try to help you.” “I’m giving you some solid gold bricks so you can go build a road the right way, one that will get people to their destinations without fear or flaws, so they don’t have to look down while they walk but can venture down this path with their heads held high and see all the wonders God has given each of them on every glorious day of their journey.”

“I tried that before,” the bricklayer said, “but my old boss and his powerful friends shut me down like a spider with a great web, every turn I make, try to destroy my very family, I fear for them.”

“Yes, I know,” the Good and powerful leader says,“but you need not worry about your old boss, I am very aware what he has done. For that man thinks this is his land, and he can do what he wants, but it is My land, and I will deal with him directly.”

“Why are you doing this?” the bricklayer asks,  almost not hardly believing what he was hearing?

“Two reasons; one, because the very first person you helped out of the ditch, I don’t know if you remember, but it was me.” The man says with a smile that doesn’t border on any pride but mere fact as if the bricklayer should have realized it all along.

“I do remember the first person and while it was a long while ago, I don’t remember him looking like you, but again it was while ago,” the bricklayer says with a little confusion.

“When you do it for any of my subjects, especially the least of these, you do it for me.” “For I am the King of these lands.”

“But the second reason I am giving you these golden bricks is simple; because you are a bricklayer.” He smiled and reached into his coat and pulled out the first solid gold brick. Handed it to the bricklayer and took the shovel from the bricklayers hands, turning to walk away.

“Wait, what road, and where do you want me to lay these bricks?”

The King turned back and with the sweetest most loving smile a Good Father ever gave his son, He said; “I will let you know.”

By Peter Colla

IMG_6153 (1)

Many people ask me why I don’t open back up my own medical office, or just go back to working on patients, especially considering I have seen so many people healed in such miraculous ways. And they always wonder why I don’t just bill the insurance companies for the care I give people?

But the answer like the dream is simple; I am the bricklayer, and the care had literally become as laying bricks, the flaw and the traps are in the road and the organizations that profit from their participation. Try as I might, I couldn’t get the bosses to agree to change the flaws in the road, and when I fixed them anyway, I was cast aside, on more than a dozen occasions. I am persecuted even today.

The threats are real, the attacks are as well, and the while I do not mention names, or companies, or even industries, it is not to protect the innocent but to protect the identities of my love ones and the people who happen to experience freedom from this tyranny. For the system has created a temple, or in this case a road, where people may come and travel down, intending to experience healing, but all they receive is deceit, suffering and imprisonment.

Despair and Hopelessness; these seem to be the promptings this road propagates and certainly the ditches the people find themselves in.

“Dear Lord Jesus help me remember the only way to dispel despair is with joy, and hopelessness with belief, both are bound by faith; faith in the hope that miracles do occur, and no amount of dread or doom can dispel the undeniable truth of God, that everyone not only can receive healing but deserves to.”


Posted in Battle, Bricklayers, Change in Healthcare, Changes In Government, Charity, Christian, Christianity, Cobblestone Roads, Dreams, Father, Father's Love, Garden, Gifts from God, God and Healing, Grace, Healing, Health, Health and Wellness, Intercessory, Jesus, Love, Natural Medicine, Nature, Nobility, Old Europe Roads, Parenting, Physical Therapy, Prayer, President, Soul and Spirituality, Spiritual Growth, Spiritual Healing, Spiritual Warfare, Touch, Visions, Wealth, Wellness | Leave a comment

The Gift Of A Piano


This is a Piano with a Real History!




Let me tell you of the history of this piano, if you have but a moment to read further.

Here on the twenty-seventh anniversary of the moment when this piano came into my possession, I realize now it may be time to let it move onto a new home. 

Twenty-seven years ago on November 11, 1992, (11-11), a tragedy attacked me, the severity of which I had barely experienced before or even fractionally since. My young wife Hilly, pregnant with our second child, driving to the doctor for a last moment check, only a single day before the scheduled Cesarean birth, was struck by a large truck, a car accident, her life and the already loved nearly new-born child’s in her womb where instantly snuffed from this existence. I later heard the man weepingly say; “He never saw the red light.”

What does this have to do with a piano?

The surviving spouse, myself, “You do what you need to do.” I was a practicing physical therapist, I had patients, but more importantly I had a surviving two and half year old daughter I needed to go on for. If I had my choice I would left, gone somewhere, anywhere, nowhere, maybe checked out, for my young wife was then the love of my life. She was the woman I gave up home, school, and even land for, traveling to Europe, falling in love, only to later bring her back to the States to build a life together, for this end!

But I still had a daughter, so I went on.

Two or three days after her death, I found myself working on a new patient, a pleasant man, one I hardly remember, much like the majority of that time period which is still clouded, fog-like clouds people seem to experience when they have tragically lost a Loved One. 

The man, I had never seen before, seemed to know about the tragedy, that too seemed strange since I would speak nothing of it, but with a soft heart and even more sensitive voice he asked me how I was holding up, seeming to direct the thoughts to how my young daughter was doing as well? Then, I’m not sure how, it came onto the topic, the man seemed to instinctively know that I had either already started my young daughter on piano lessons, played the piano myself, or that I was planning on it.

Either way, he said immediately; “I own a piano store over in the center of town. You come in there and if you want one, any one, I will give it to you at the same price I paid.”

IMG_1867“Any one you want, you pick. It will be my gift to you, new sounds, new beginnings, for you and your daughter in your home.”

I went the next day and the man himself didn’t happen to be there. When I told the sales manager what he had said, the manager reported that the man had already shared with him I might be coming in and specifically told him that I was to be shown everything they had, hopefully to find something I like. He reiterated; “He told me to give you whichever piano you wanted at our cost.”

So we looked through the showroom, which was filled with all kinds of beautiful new and even a few used pianos, all looked new and expensive. Names I knew, some I never heard of, all beautiful, grandiose, and all very expensive. I told the sales manager, while I appreciated the offer, I was just starting out and was really only looking for nice piano for our home, my budget was way under these on display. Then he offered to show me a few more older used ones they had in the back.

He was very kind and helpful, asking what exactly I might be looking for? I said; “I’m not really sure, I like the more wood looking, maybe older style, but I still would like a Grand Piano, maybe Baby Grand, I don’t know?”

He then directed me way back to rear of the building stating he thought he had just the thing? “A piano just came in that we purchased at an estate auction just this last weekend. It’s still in the shipping box, all I know is it’s old, it works, and I believe it is a Mahogany Grand piano. I believe the cost is in your budget.”

He took the top off the crate and I look in, it looked perfect. “If you want this one, we will just unpack it, make sure it works, maybe clean it up for you and then deliver it to your home. You can have it for the same price we paid?”

“Thank you, it’s perfect, I will take it, and please thank the owner for me.”

Later that day I got a call from the man, my patient. “I want to make sure before we send that piano out to you that you really want it? We had no idea what was in that crate until we unboxed it.”

“Is it ok?” I asked.

“It’s better than ok, that piano is a 1925 Steinway and in perfect condition. It is yours, but if you would rather have a new one, I would gladly trade it for any of the pianos in my store including any of the new Steinways I have for the price you paid for that one?”

“If you are reconsidering, I totally understand, but I really like the idea it’s an old one.” I said, still trying to comprehend everything he was saying to me.

“No, I’m not reconsidering at all, the piano is yours, I know it was meant to be yours, New beginnings! I just wanted you to realize the value so when you insure it, you will set it high enough. A New Steinway of that model is at least $65-80,000, and this one is original and from an era when the quality and materials of the pianos makes it extremely desirable.”

“Not to mention I have come to find out, we purchased it from an estate that brought it out to Arizona directly from the factory, and it has never been anywhere else.”

“It was supposed to come to you, enjoy,” he said with the most pleasant and well-wishing voice, I thanked the man as he hung up. A few days later the piano showed up.

They set it up, tune it, as a matter of fact, the tuner was himself a concert pianist who tunes pianos for extra money, he said; “This is the best sounding Grand Piano I have ever played on, it was an honor to play on such an instrument,” as he played a few beautiful short pieces for me.

It was absolutely spectacular, exactly as it stands today.

I never saw the piano store Owner again, he never came back for another visit. I would pass his store a few times usually at lunch break, occasionally even stopping in, but he was never there when I would. A few years later I noticed the shop had closed, or was sold, either way it was gone.

Many years later, after many years of fog and wandering in wilderness, I have finally came to the realization that store owner that came into my office that day must have been an angel. The piano, was a gift from God.

“A Gift for New Sounds, New Beginnings?”

Now here I am twenty-seven years later, on the anniversary of that event, suddenly thinking of this piano and the miraculous way it came into my home. I have finally found a New Love, the Restoration, God in His infinite mercy has restored what was taken all those years ago. My new wife and I find ourselves on again with “New Beginnings,” new paths, promptings to go where God would take us on this journey, and with the labors of our hearts and hands.

We are stepping out of our normal medical caregivers path of only treating peoples bodies, and venturing down one of environmental health for the purpose of healing people in their Mind, Bodies and most importantly Spirits.

I could feel God telling me; “The Piano can go to someone else now, someone who might carry its beautiful sound into another story. Maybe somebody who would like to join you on your path of helping others.”

IMG_1099The money we will use to further facilitate the opening of our new business Global Environmental Mindfulness (GEM) Industries, a Health and Wellness minded environmental company. But really it will be used to help others, allow us to continue our writing and build a company that puts God at the head of any of its concerns. If God wants this gift to go to someone else at this junction of the path my wife and I are on, then these individual might wish to contribute to that path with support their own gifts will provide.


By Peter Colla


“Lord thank you for the infinite gifts you have given me, and thank you for the honor to share those gifts with others as well.”

Posted in Change in Healthcare, Christian, Christianity, Gifts from God, God and Healing, Grace, Healing, Health, Health and Wellness, Land, Natural Medicine, Nobility, Physical Therapy, Piano, Prayer, Steinway Piano's, Uncategorized, Wealth | 1 Comment

All I Want From Christmas Is You

Morning on the dawn of another day, not just another, a new day, fresh in its undiscovered slender, a completely new creation like none other before it, a gift wrapped in the golden ribbons of the new morning suns’ light dancing majestically across perfectly painted scenes. What would God give his child today, as the eyes open to the faintest first speckles of mornings light softly bouncing across infinite peddles of each of the created flowers in the perfect garden of this child’s soul?

A question of yet discovery, for in this season of celebration, the birthday of His Son, the Great Giver wraps each of His gifts and lays them under the branches of the tree of life, granting the peace and protection of calm revery. What might I give to God for His birthday this year?

Oh, how many days have come and passed hardly noticed for their individual perfected brilliance, each a new masterpiece of created erected hues of dazzling colors and perfectly blended hues resting in the forefront, their light enhanced high lights reflect and contrast the shadows that hide behind, symphonies of gentle tones pirouette their perfect steps in sweet morning sounds of Gods gentlest natures creatures sing their praises for the new day.

The thought in my head, a sweet song, singing and playing as sweet as a child, quietly but comforting, as lay in conformable rest warm under the blanket of yet another gift from God. I snuggled up next to creation manifested in perfected love, my wife next to me, I hear a song softly playing in the hallways of the house God created for me this mansion of many rooms, this garden I know in my mind as my soul. Her gentle breaths and the realization of life perfected beauty, but that is not the song in my head for this one is the answer to my first question; “What might I give to God for His birthday this year?”, and the song gently playing over and over in my head is; “All I want from Christmas is you”.

As a father myself I think about my own children and the realization that I have truly been given everything I could ever want from a Father who loves me, knowing this but also knowing my own children express their own wish to give in this season, I realize in one splendid moment that this is the truest and perfect answer to such a perplexing thought. For truly all I do want for Christmas this year from each of them is them, to see them, to hear them, to experience them even if but a moment.

The face of my daughter brushes before my eye even as I hear this song repeating in my head the answer to my own question even as I speak it, yes it is true all I want for Christmas this in Gods perfectly created Grace, is you.

By Peter Colla

Posted in Children, Christian, Christianity, Father, Father's Love, Garden, God and Healing, Grace, Health, Health and Wellness, Love, Love of a Child, Parenting, Relationship, Soul and Spirituality, Spiritual Growth, Uncategorized, Wealth, Wellness | Leave a comment

Forgive Me Father

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a long time since I have confessed my sins.”

I allowed myself to again fall trap to sins of man, and let them distract me from the path in which you would have me walk.

I allowed myself to be seduced yet again by men who through what appears to be worldly stature or success appear to be wise, and in that appearance may offer up a path or direction for me.

I looked to them for answers when I must only look to You. For I have freely given myself to You, asked You for guidance, and knowingly as well, have freely volunteered in Your army.

I let myself be seduced by the arrogance of pride, and through its soft persuasions allowed myself to take my eye off of you and look even again into the storm, and this has caused me to sink.

Godly direction and gifts can only be obtained from God. Men can only give constructs of hands and these ultimately reveal themselves as idols!

Our time, hopes and prayers are treasures of our own soul, and “where we put out treasures, there our hearts will be also”!

I am so foolish to even for a moment take my eyes off of you. Pull me yet again up out of the water for I want to walk with you again, no matter where it brings me even on the water, even in the storm, even in the middle of the sea.

Especially there!

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

A Health Care Practitioner’s Take on Football Protests

I opened my eyes and I saw the faces of people before me, women older yet with elderly beauty that transcended the typical observations that come with older people of sixty, seventy or even older. They were not grimacing merely existing in the day as it was passing them by, seemingly enjoying the thoughts and activities that presented itself to them.

Then I notice, no looked down, and saw what appeared to be page or a cabinet lying on the ground with faces looking up at me all in rows, faces lined up in rows of four or five, and lining up all in a row three or four rows all with their eyes close, very peaceful smiles on their faces, yet none of them were moving, they were just faces from the neck up facing upward.

I noticed that the bottom row had only one face, but another seemed to be materializing as I watched, and I knew that these faces were being added to a list.

Then I heard the voice of God;

“These people have committed the same sinful act seven times, and have closed their eyes to it, and now I have closed their eye for them.”

“Are they dead?” I asked

“Most of them are blind, some of them are dead, all of them are dying.”

Then He showed me that some people are allowing their eyes to take in darkness over years and years, and through this act the eyes become cloudy or damaged. I asked in my voice if that is why my own eyes became weaker and eventually needed glasses. He said; “Yes.”

“But what about the children that are born with the need to use glasses?”

“People are born in various places in the garden, and with each brings its blessings, and each brings its storms, these you are to overcome or repeat, based purely on the particular location in the garden.”

I wake.

It makes so much sense. People of today have such a tendency to look at the problem, or symptom of the problem, and fixate on it, basically describing the whole world as bad, based purely on the observation of one small part of it.

The Football Protest came to mind.

I watch the football players take a knee, and try to understand the issue they are demonstrating. I may be wrong but I have heard it is “In protest against the unfair treatment of African Americans specifically by Law Enforcement in America.”

While nobody can deny that unfair acts of violence or prejudice have occurred in the past, and may continue to occur today, these acts only represent a very small part of the overall Law Enforcement community as a whole. And for the majority of American communities, especially areas where very little crime is witnessed on a day to day basis, when the vast majority of Americans have very little experience witnessing acts of violence, let alone acts of disparity and how law enforcement has handled, it becomes very difficult to identify with people who do, or protest to the fact.

So here comes the football players, the superstars of the sports and entertainment industry, men who are paid enormous amounts of money, basically millionaires, people paid to provide entertainment at the request and paid admission of millions of my fellow sports enthusiasts, decide to take a knee in protest of this dark issue that is protested to be out there somewhere in our society.

Darkness is all around us, evil lurks at the edge of the dark woods, like a bully waiting to attack, for no reason, but merely to fulfill his own need to feed the pain and hunger inside of his own darkened life. It waits just out of sight of the larger population, hides behind bushes waiting to pounce. It is always fearful itself if the larger society saw him, the good would overcome him and destroy him.

It waits, with it’s hungering teeth, to fall upon the unexpected, weak, vulnerable, and often lonely child as they wander a little to far from the light and find themselves venturing into the dark shadows of the night. It wants to inflict pain, cause the child to scream, fear is what it feeds on, always angry, bent on destruction, with pure malevolence as the very food of which it lives for. Bottom  line it likes it hates, and while we as a good society would have it that it doesn’t exist, unfortunately it does and now we must decide what to do about it.

We tell our children don’t walk alone from school, and certainly do not wonder down the dark alleyways out of sight and away from others observing eyes, there may be a predator waiting, hiding, intending them harm. We tell our children to stay safe. We tell ourselves to stay safe, but darkness is out there. We can fill them with fear, maybe even forbid them from walking to school? Deny them the pleasure of experiencing the world as it was also created for them, because of fear! We can talk about the lurking predator, the boogyman under the bed, the snake in the weeds, but the more we talk about things the more we draw them into our lives, the more we create them in our own reality.

I understand the passion that drives strong alfa men such as a professional football player to want to protest bullying when they have seen it and maybe even experienced it themselves. I can also understand that with their strength, fame, wealth, and position in society the thoughts of not standing up to bullying of any kind, seems almost as bad as when the act of violence is being dished out to one of these small helpless children.

But as a medical practitioner and speaking from experience talking about a sickness and fixating on a sickness, this certainly is not the way to fight it. Talking about it does absolutely nothing to removing the sickness germs from society as a whole, and if anything only brings fear into the people as the sickness is being spoken about.

If you want to eradicate a sickness that has plagued a society and you are in a position to really make a difference, teach others how to overcome these afflictions! Just lingering on them, while this does bring awareness, does little to help those who are actually being inflicted by the sicknesses throughout the world.

When there is sickness plaguing society, the people who are afflicted with the issues, they need information as to how they might overcome and become healthy, and then if they are truly blessed will discover how they have become stronger from the experience. 

“What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger!”

Taking a knee, in this case, also appears to many people as a direct slandering to our National Anthem, and thus an insult to the many people who have fought and died for the very freedoms we enjoy. Many people see the protests as a direct protest against the President, maybe it’s a response to President Trump’s criticism, maybe it’s the time line of where these protests suddenly appear, maybe not?

It really matters little as to exactly the intention of each and every participant of the protest, it is the implied intention of those who are the observers of the protest in their own analyzation, as to the relative effectiveness and message each and every protest portrays, that issues and effect, the desired effect on the canvas of the image itself being portrayed is based purely on the observer individually.

From the standpoint of the health care practitioner, one that choses to treat the cause and not just the symptom of a particular injury, I would prefer to see the efforts and reputations, not to mention the revenue lost on this protest, used for the education, enhancement of the people who might suffer from the injustices these attacks may cause, and efforts to help victims overcome and create a better life. This kind of action would bring Good attention to the storm and effects, thus stimulate positive, and not just fixate on the darkness and the disease talking about the problem offering no solution. Plus peoples attention would be placed on the problem nation wide in a good way without the slander of disgracing the flag.

Teach these victims how to cope and overcome if they happen to suffer from such an attack. Reassure them that they are created no different then anyone else by God, the only difference is their particular location in the world, and the time of their birth. We all have our own burdens and difficulties to deal with through this journey we call life, and each of us is ultimately on a journey to discover life, and in doing so have choices to turn to light or dark each and every  moment of every day even in our perceptions.

We all are created with our own difficulties and victories.

By Peter Colla

“Dear Jesus, help me to bring attention to the light, help others to overcome, and thus bring more light into the world, and not dwell on the darkness, no matter how dark it may present itself to be.”

Posted in Affordable Care Act, Battle, Changes In Government, Changes In Health Care, Charity, Christian, Christianity, Discipleship, God and Healing, Healing, Health, Health Care, Health Care Reform, Home Health, Medicine, NFL Football, Physical Therapy, President, President Trump, Protest, Relationship, Spiritual Healing, Spiritual Warfare, Touch, Uncategorized, Wealth, Wellness | Leave a comment

Jesus the First Therapist; Excerpt and Introduction

Looking out the windows of light, a person cannot but possibly see all that is in the moment of this reality, the new venture, the unwanted adventure, the white untouched canvas of unexpected realization; there is so much out there yet to discover, there is a complete and wonderful creation waiting to be discovered on the other side of the voyage.

So was one such day, so is many such days, but are they all not just the same when corralled by then responsibilities and the ever encompassing functions that surround the regular day. A morning awakening, its ritual coffee with the ever present need to attend that schedule we have so feverishly attached to ourselves. Giving yet another day in the long list of calendar rehearsals as they play so solemnly past like the ever never ending march of soldiers following step from the one before pressing forward to not halter the ones behind, stepping on in silent but rhythmic procession, keeping step in their ever present form, the routine set down before them by powers not quite understood and seldom fathomed.

A person can find themselves on a journey sometimes hardly knowing the ship has sailed, little do they know they have inadvertently stepped abroad, some stowaway wondering onto valiant voyage to distant shores yet unknown and undiscovered. I think such a day was also for me in such days, because in and around the sets of days broader expanses of realization began to find their way into the supple dispositions of my mind. I guess I was on a journey to discover health.

Existing in the health care profession, as many would tell you, especially after many years of practicing, the stream of people coming through the door, all with their eyed wide in expectation for what; an answer, a little tidbit of information that may lead to ease of burden, a reduction of irritation, the subtle elevation of burden carried by them, in this present and clear torment the irritation of the storms journey has presented them thus far? And what, can you give them anything, you haven’t given to a hundred, maybe a thousand others prior to these, regardless of the situation or structures of the facilitator that brought forth the issuing event in the first place?

You find yourself in such a present model, and over the course of so many years merely a provider of regurgitated leaflets of information that vary if anything from one to the other with as little variation as one might see in looking at the difference between aspirin pills in a bottle. This monogamy starts over time to inflict a more questionable realization in ones heart as to what exactly are you doing here? Are you really helping anyone? And whats the meaning of it all?

In such days, I found myself wondering and asking, if there is more, and if so what?

Still here I am driving down the long morning road, the images playing through the glass as mirages of worlds flowing past like islands across the horizon of some far off sailing soul, one cannot but sometime wonder the worlds of the lives swimming in the lands just out of touch yet passed by each and every day. I would like to make a difference, and how can that be, what must I do, to actually be relevant in these peoples life?

So is the tasks and the course of each day presenting itself also in a never ending line of people waiting for the rations of care given them for the injuries that they are rehabilitating from. So is the task and daily outlook for the therapist who has performed his care giving duties for last twenty-five plus years.

Such a day, same as many, most, no probably all of them, and while the care does change from time to time in a larger scope per injury or body part, the regiment is primarily the same and issued out like rations to a waiting hungry orphan for another morsel, hoping to relieve that hunger pain or fill some kind of hole left by the tragedy he or she has not quite completely returned from.

So to find myself wanting, a place not common in like, and less desirable then one might think if a more perspective look is examined from afar. Wanting in the area of satisfaction, satisfaction as to understanding in one’s self, as to; “Am I really making a difference, am I really helping?” What and exactly is the deference between what I attempt to do, and the actually healing that has been spoken of so often through history? Demonstrated with more clarity at least once in history as to a pure healing is really possible and what is lacking to sustain it on a regular and recurring basis?

I have heard it said; “God would that all of us were healed” as well as many other statements that seem to relate to the picture of an ideal that disease like sin, common in many ways, is not permanent, and the only thing one needs to be healed from any ailment is merely find faith.

Perplexing thought, given the examinations of many cases in my own mind regarding “Why do some heal and others don’t?” This question sits in my head as I ponder the thought driving down the hill. I have from occasion ask God very direct and specific questions, while most of the time all I seem to receive is the silent quietness that one often associates with a teacher not answering a question in the middle of a lesson, because the question has no impact at all on the lesson at hand or can in itself actually perpetuate more of a distraction from the point if addressed.

But I too have had more of an experience recently with asking and actually have some kind of answer follow, whether by direct word such as something immediately coming out of the radio or tv that answered the question. On occasion an image that when recorded or spoken actually answers the question exactly, and sometimes and not as often as I would like, even in almost distinct and all out audible words playing forth in my head.

Today was such a day.

“I would that everyone was healed.”

I heard it almost as clear as a spoken word sitting right next to me. The understanding of what I had come to know as God’s Voice, is not as much specific to me as it would seem, just resting inside the pondering mind of myself.

There is a deep resonance to it, a voice much like my own yet deeper and older than I have ever heard. There is a peacefulness about it that seems to not only exhibit tranquility but emirates itself in the very moment it is heard. An interesting fact is every time I hear the Voice of God, all other sounds in the universe seem to suddenly become conspicuously quiet, as if only the very sounds that I am hearing are the only important things I could be concerned with or should be.

Also without really understanding exactly the essence of what I am trying to describe, there is a sort of harmony to the voice, as if filled with an infinite accompanying of orchestra or some kind of soft choir just below the surface of my perception. That and everything I ever hear, when it appears to be from God, is completely different then any point or opinion I may have thought myself, much more wise or simplistic, seeming to cut a groove into my mind who’s memory transcends years and not just moments, as the many of the other thoughts or images that flow in or off my head seemingly do throughout the day.

“So if you would that everyone would be healed, what is stopping them, why do only a few seemed to be healed?” I said almost not exactly expecting an answer.

“They Are!”

“People are healed every moment of every day. They are from the first morning of the first day they breath a breath, or utter a sound.”

“To understand the nature of healing one must first examine and understand the aspects of exactly what is going on. A person cannot understand, let alone hope to fight a battle if they are looking in the wrong direction or blind to exactly what forces are attacking.”

“Infirmities of all types, whether they be sicknesses, injuries, or afflictions that can last a lifetime, are attacks from the outside. People believed this once and today there needs to be a relearning of what is believed about these things.”……….

The Introduction chapter and excerpts from; “Jesus The First Therapist”

By Peter Colla

Posted in Changes In Health Care, Christian, Christianity, Discipleship, God and Healing, Healing, Health, Health Care, Health Care Reform, Home Health, Intercessory, Jesus, Love, Medicine, Natural Medicine, Nature, Orthopedics, Prayer, Spiritual Healing, Spiritual Warfare, Wealth, Wellness | Leave a comment

The Simple Truth About Health Care and True Rehabilitation

The simple truth about health care is simple; we have been systematically lied to about just about everything when it comes to our health and health care treatment. People have been slowly and completely brainwashed in their belief regarding their own health for years and this belief has slowly been altered to a point of complete fear and loss of hope.

The simple truth about health care is that unless a person looks to the cause of an issue, and then concentrates a subsequent treatment plan to fight the affliction in a likewise rehabilitation plan, they have a blind man in a boxing matches chance of overcoming the attack or sickness.

The evidence and mind manipulation is all around us, constantly coming at us in every possible form, presenting a complete bombardment of poisoning of our bodies through our eyes, ears, mouths, minds and bodies with one purpose, to manipulate, negatively affect, weaken our body, at the same time confuse and lie to our minds, distracting us from the truth, eventually manipulate our beliefs to the point where we give up all freedom, and become slaves to them for any health or hope.

First and foremost the present health care system in its basic pharmaceutical insurance driven presentation cares nothing about curing anybody of anything, they are merely interested in treating the symptoms of the afflictions we suffer from, making money, and enslaving us into a belief system of total dependency and hopelessness. The basic fact is, there is not a single medicine on the market that cures anybody of anything, they all merely reduce the symptoms that the injuries or sicknesses cause, and we sit back, hope even pray that sickness will then just go away.

In a time not so long ago if a person started suffering from an illness they did just that, they “came down” with, suffered from, or caught this or that. Now people are told they “Are Sick” instead of suffering from a sickness. This is a very slight and mild form of manipulation of the mind, significant, because if a person now believes they “Are” or have become something within themselves instead of merely “suffering” from something, they tend to give up hope, and relinquish much easier their own willingness to fight, the result; they will just sit there and take it as the abusive suffering, or worse yet the attacks’ continue.

I have been a medical practitioner for over thirty years, an active participant in this sense of brainwashed helplessness that we are being dowsed with continually, but this most recent helpless social manifestation is truly a new occurrence pressing to the forefront over the last ten or fewer years. I remember only just a few years ago, people would come to me with a preconceived notion that they were suffering from this or that issue, no matter if it was a direct orthopedic dramatic event such as a break or injury, or if they were suffering from a more complex systemic affliction such pain in the back, a total knee replacement occurrence, a heart attack, an amputation, or an affliction name such as Lupus or High Blood Pressure, and could almost exactly pinpoint in most cases the exact day the issue started, thus lending to a possible examination as to the cause with its own possible cure.

Now, today people come and say; “I have this or that”, “I have a Rotator Cuff”, “I have pain”, “I am a cancer patient”, “A Diabetic”, “Disabled”, “An Amputee”, “A Schizophrenic”, “I AM SICK” having resolved themselves to the belief that the sickness is a part of who they are, who they were created to be, they have given up all hope to a possible cures, and merely seek treatment to help them function with this new life’s sentence.

Well I am here right now to tell each and every one of you, that you are not these diseases, these afflictions, these ailments, these injuries, you are not predisposed or destined to suffer from this or that, and you certainly are not a slave to anyone, including the fool doctors who tell you different, or the insurance company that just wants to control every aspect of your health care faith, or the pharmaceutical company that wants to give you one poison for one ailment while possibly causing three others that further push you down a rabbit hole of despair, until you end up with an entire list of so called medicines, a loss of every gift you have ever received and complete enslavement as loss.

For thousands of years, when people would suffer from an ailment, they would seek out the most learned member of their society and seek advice, often this was the oldest most experienced person, like a grandmother, or Wiseman. What would qualify such a person? Three things; experience in either overcoming the same or an alike issue, helping others in the past with similar issues, or a broad base of education in the area of identification and subsequent treatment options for like issues.

The problem with the majority of the health care providers of today is; they have only a very limited ideal and specific one directional education into the possible aspects and treatment options of the ailments they treat, they have very little if any personal experience in the feelings and specific situations of the people they give advice to, the driving factors for health care in most cases is money and not primarily the health enrichment of the person they are treating, and finally, and in most cases would not render the same treatment they give to others to their own mother, father or family member, speaking very specifically to the essence and quality of what they believe they are delivering.

Now people go to the doctors so they can be told what is wrong with them, the doctor does his examination within the limits of his training or his experience, and then sets up his treatment course of action using the tools or medicines he has been told he must use. The testing, the diagnosis, and the course of action must all be authorized by the insurance company, before a person can receive their so-called healing, and the course of action must be narrowly observed without any deviation, no matter what a particular person might find they need, unless again consulted with the doctor and cleared by the higher-ups.

Now mind you, these authorizing agents, these are the same people who are profiting the most by limiting a persons care, directing them into treatment facilities they might own and profit with, giving them one pill that might lead to a lifetime of use rather than merely a short-term use, and why would they possibly do that, they either own the pharmaceutical company or at least are in the same snake pit as they are.

There is not a single medicine or medical application out there that can make a person heal, become a better human being, or give any person a single day on their single life, not one, not anyone, that function comes completely and solely from God. They all just reduce the symptoms that are the result of the initial injuries or attacks.

I know this fact is true because I have seen it with my own eyes, over the course of tens of years, and with the direct experience of treating personally thousands of patients. There is one simple fact when you look at all of them collectively, in our now present health care model; some get better, some don’t, a few almost miraculously, a few drastically fail and even tragically. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to this, or is there?

The Initial Goal of True Health Care

The first and foremost goal must be to identify what exactly is afflicting the person seeking help, and then obtain advice as to the best way to move forward through his or hers’ immediate days, how to avoid further issue or reoccurrence, what they might eat or drink, how they might rest or move, or basically what slight but subtle immediate changes need to be made to move the life of the person towards the positive healing result.

The goal must be to become better, become well, and to then take on a future course of action as to not suffer the same attack again.

If people would take this course of action whether it be a combination of herbs and teas, (of which most of the present day medicines are based and synthesized from), implement a remedy or action that has worked in the past, and facilitate a plan that moves them away from what is harming them, they would in fact change their life styles that may have precipitated the injury in the first place, they would in the process of overcoming the injury actually lay the ground for a better life and in getting better become better.

I know this is true because it is promised.

The Truth

Let us take ourselves for a moment out of the equation and examine it from the outside.

Let us suppose we see a child, maybe it’s our child, or a dear friends, a brother, a sister, our best friend, and they come home from school and suddenly appear with bruises, cuts or broken this or that on their body. They are sad, depressed, scared, in pain, so what might we do?

We could seek wisdom as to what this might be? Take them to the doctor, at which time the doctor prescribes an oil-based ointment, to rub on the wounds. He might say; “Make sure you sterilize your hands when touching the wound, your hands are full of diseases, you might even apply the medicine directly without touching yourself.” There couldn’t possibly be a disease on the All-Mighty oil tube filled with its antibacterial and cell destroying chemicals!

He might tell us trusting caring parents, friends to bring the child home put her in a dark room, he does prescribe rest, “Don’t worry the fear will leave with a little rest” especially in the dark lonely room! Gives us another prescription for a pill or two to dull the pain, and maybe one for sleep, because she is scared! “She may have anxiety or even depression, keep an eye on that” he warns as if by looking at her you can somehow identify depression as it occurs?

“Let the child stay home from school for a day or two, don’t worry, I will write a permission slip to the school allowing her to miss a couple of days, and don’t worry the school will allow her to make up her missed work.” A new scared look suddenly appears on her face!

Do you feel better? Does the child?

Even if the child doesn’t share or maybe can even remember where and exactly or how the bruises appeared, in such a scenario the actual cause of the problem is not only ignored the many possible aspects of fear or depression of the child are also ignored; the obvious bully, the eventual actual return to the realm of the attack, the fear of getting behind and failure in school, not to mention a possible association of fear of the dark with the pain of bruises. Basically to any sane or rational parent such a diagnosis and prognosis would seem like buffoonery! And does this treatment do anything at all for the possibility of stopping the bruises from reappearing when the child goes back to school?


Maybe the bully disappeared, maybe the child will step up and fight back, maybe God will do what the parents should have?

Probably not!

This is exactly what happens each and every time any of us becomes afflicted with an injury.

We are attacked by this or that sickness, injury, or affliction, we know usually exactly what we are doing at the moment of our first recognition something is wrong. This moment is so very important, to truly understand what exactly is afflicting us, and more importantly from what direction! Thus giving each and every one of us truth and invaluable insight into a possible cure, teaching us; if we but open our eyes, as how to shore up our personal defenses to not allow this to happen again, not only can we scare away the attacker, we may get “better” and future attacks are thwarted.

The Therapy of True Health Care

If we will further suppose that all injuries of any type are attacks, then like any attack, there is a specific direction from which it comes, there is a weakness in our own personal defenses that this attack and others like it may have breached, and if we can identify exactly what direction and in what manner the attack is occurring, we can use this information to fight back!

I can remember with not such fond recollection living up in the forest and deciding one day to take the kids on a picnic for the evening. We made a whole bunch of baked chicken, packed up all the supplies and headed off to the lake many miles away.

What I didn’t realize was we left one of the containers of the chicken out on the counter cooling. There were a few, so missing one was not noticeable. Neither did the boys notice the window they left open earlier that day. We didn’t notice anything until we got home late that night and saw that the house had been ransacked, the cushions were destroyed, everything had been toppled over, and the place looked and smelled like a garbage bomb went off! We had been living in this home, in the forest for years and never had such an attack before. Amazing what a couple of little raccoons could do.


First thing first, make sure the raccoons were gone, the attack is over!

Next, find out how they got in?

And finally try to identify why today, at this particular moment in time, why they came?

Now if we just cleaned up the mess, and didn’t examine these other issues, one thing is guaranteed; they would be back, and maybe in numbers!

The therapy for the Great Raccoon Epidemic; chase away the pests, close the window, make sure the bait is removed and doesn’t reappear, and then start the long process of cleaning up the mess!

God is so perfect in His creation, and just like in the earthly world, the spiritual world is created very much in the same manner; as much as there are extremely complex animals, such as elephants and dolphins, there are also extremely simple organisms that are indiscriminate and lack any apparent conscience thoughts like bacteria or viruses.

In the spiritual realm it is no different, angels of enormous complexity and power, and spiritual creatures all the way down to simple indiscriminate irritants no more powerful than the simplest scorpion or spider, or germ.

When we get a pain, or attack, the place on our body actually afflicted is in retrospect to the whole quite small; a low back disk, a meniscus in the knee, a lymph gland, an artery in the heart, an infection in a tooth, a stubbed toe, a bug bite. But it is us, our minds, our beliefs, our fear, our years of taught self-doom, brainwashed hopelessness, that immediately turns our entire focus from this beautiful world around us, and places it directly as well as completely on our sore little toe.

In this world when I speak to people who have an affliction, it is a real and very common occurrence that their entire world becomes the injury at hand. It’s all they can talk about, want to talk about, see, hear, feel or consider, they become their little injury. They become obsessed with the issue at hand. It is like their whole world suddenly starts to revert, to concentrated and focussed staring through the microscope, and nothing or anyone can say to get them to stop staring.

If germs are like bugs, let’s say like cockroaches the first thing you have to do is put the light on!

When in doubt ask God.

In war when a spy comes in and tries to do damage, all the good guys have to do first is identify there actually may be a spy sneaking around. These things are like animals, very basic in their contemplations, but animals and vicious they are, and like animals, they also know when they are being hunted! We start looking for the raccoons guarantee they are out the window long before you get an eyeball on them.

When the light appears, the darkness flees! This is a truth that is evidential and constant in the physical, psychological, and spiritual worlds. Putting into our life the truth, shedding light on a situation, bringing the attention to a particular direction, is basically the same as turning the light on!

In many cases, just knowing what exactly a person is dealing with, and changing the thoughts as well as beliefs regarding it, is often enough to scare away the sickness or injury for good!

“For Good” what a wonderful choice of terms, funny people never say; “for bad”.

Next, Find the Way They Came In

The great part of this investigation as to how the creature come came in, is it is usually obvious! With the raccoons, it is clearly obvious, with a probable trail of destruction and garbage right to the window sill!

The child coming back from school; the window is the direction of the school, she came home from school. Again obvious! Not so obvious when you are dealing with an injury or something as complex as depression or is it?

When a person is afflicted with anything, regardless if it is a direct physical attack, a systemic realization of something wrong, or a spiritual manifestation of fear or anxiety, the answers to the questions of where it comes from ALWAYS presents itself. We merely must examine what we were doing at the time of the specific injury or problem, and if this is not clear, what we are thinking, or dreaming, or experiencing, at the very moment of the attack. In every case, the answer of what direction the attack is coming from is made apparent to us.

If for some reason the meaning of information seems to elude us we can always ask God. “We have not because we ask not”, or so it was said in the Bible by James.

Many spiritual, and even new age teachers would agree that words have power, and speaking the words with intent will produce results, and in this case wisdom. I have from time to time asked people who have suffered from this or that affliction to recall what they were doing or further what they were thinking at the time of the attack, but the specifics, especially when linked to severe trauma, or any memory whatsoever was gone. In this particular case asking God for wisdom usually results in a direct and usually clear image or dream appearing in the persons’ mind. This intuition or miraculous insight, I have found is often exactly tied to the issue at hand.

A woman wakes up with episodes of anxiety in the middle of the night, scared, heart fluttering, cold sweats, confused, and goes to the doctor. Get from him her sleeping, antidepressant, and anti-anxiety meds go home and sit in fear as she waits for the next attack like some poor cowering child coming home from school waiting for the bully to pop out from around the corner at any moment.

When I ask her what were you thinking when you woke up in fear, she said; “That’s easy, the same thing I am always thinking, about the problems occurring with my son!”

I asked her; “Can you solve any of those problems when you are sitting or laying there?”

She says; “Of course not, I can’t help him with any of his problems, he never listens to me anyway?”

“How does that make you feel, that you cant help him?”

“Sad, I wish I could help him”

“It makes you sad or it makes him sad?” I ask.

“It makes me sad, of course, he has no idea I am waking up.” She says further; “You believe I need to tell him this, burden him with more problems, how his mother is having sleepless nights?”

“No” “I think you need to stop burdening YOU with this.”
“There is nothing you can do to help him.”

“What you can do is forgive him for what he did that cause you to worry!”

“And forgive yourself for not being able to help!”

The next time it happens, get up and turn on the light, ask God to forgive you and him, that will close the window if it isn’t already closed now.

Now Kiss the BooBoo

So what do we do after the attack has happened after the raccoons have left after the damage is already been done? Easy clean up the mess!

God has instinctively put into us all off the knowledge we need to solve just about every issue we might come across.

The beautiful little child just a year old starts to walk, crawl and basically explore the new exciting world around them, and quickly goes forth into the great new world of the rest of the room, touching and exploring everything they can get their hands on. And in her excitement, she grabs the heavy closet door and closes it on her own fingers.

Immediately there is an eruption of pain and sadness that fills the entire home with such a loud sound, there is no doubt everyone including the long deceased ancestors of many generations had no problem hearing it.

The good loving parent swoops her up immediately into their arms, and instantaneously begins to give comfort, love, attention and most importantly kisses the boo-boo! Why?

Why does the pain suddenly and almost miraculously disappear just from the mothers kiss? Well, science would say in a common Bio-Physical explanation called Gate-Theory whereby two adjacent neuron-receptors both stimulated at the same time, pain and pleasure sensation, the pleasure sensation goes through first because it rides on larger, faster running neural pathways, thus the child ceases to feel the pain and only feels the soft pleasurable sensations.

I would agree but only in part.

God created us with the same Light and Darkness laws, whereby an injection of love, tenderness, care, kisses, basically Light, chases away the darkness or in this case the pain.

The mother in effect turns the child away from the attack, the pain in the finger. Takes her away from the open window, in this case, the closet door rains the child down with a blessing of love, tenderness, comfort, and kisses. She may even bring the sweet child over and rinse the precious fingers with cool soothing water; clean up the mess with the worlds best and purest cleaning agent, and hold the child even sing a soft melody until the child utterly and completely forgets the attack ever happened. Only settling into the sweet warm chest of her parents comforting love and relaxes enjoying yet again the beautiful perfect world this wonderful God has given her.


The most important part of this lesson in health care; “Before you call or talk to any man, call and talk to God!”

By Peter Colla

“Dear Lord Jesus, help me to help every person you bring to me seeking help for their issues, help me to see past the symptoms and look to the causes of the issues themselves, and thank you for the gift of them as they each give to me, and I to heal in this experience.”

Posted in Affordable Care Act, Changes In Government, Changes In Health Care, Charity, Christian, Christianity, Demons, Discipleship, God and Healing, Healing, Health, Health Care, Health Care Reform, Home Health, Jesus, Love, Natural Medicine, Nature, Orthopedics, Pharmaceuticals, Physical Therapy, Prayer, President, Spiritual Healing, Spiritual Warfare, Touch, Wealth, Wellness | Leave a comment

The Need For Change in Healthcare

People talk about change these days, expressing their desire and even frustrations with the sense that something must change, without even really knowing what or how nowhere is this displayed with more of a sense of urgency than in health care. Even in the ranks of health care providers those who actually profit and sustain a comfortable living at the involvement in a system that has marched into the arena we now find ourselves in, feel an urgent sense that something must change, that the system itself is drastically flawed, and that continuation under the present program or course is doomed to fail, as I myself do.

The American Public who have always been on the forefront of the pulse of not only liberty but hold in their collective heart a deep sense of what is wrong and right, and ultimately when given the choice will side, at least with the majority, into a direction that at least hopes to venture towards what is right. And while many may argue whether or not the election of President Trump represents right or wrong, there is no doubt that it represents a desire and even drastic “Hail Mary” shot for the hope of change.

There seems to be a steady and unrelenting current of discussion in the area of Health Care reform, particularly the need to facilitate change into a program that has seem to have rolled downstream in such a destructive and imminent way, that the majority of people not only recognize the seriousness of the dilemma we all find ourselves in, but are coming to the bleak conclusion that the healthcare environment as a whole is so far gone, that it seems to the typical bystander, as an image of someone who wishes; “now to live in the scraps of a house that has long washed down stream after the great and horrendous flood.” Low and behold if you as a person, you somehow find yourself floating rapidly downstream in this flood because in a flood you know at any moment you can become overcome or sucked under by the hidden dangers that rest just below the surface.

Health Care now, that is a difficult arena, and I myself as a practitioner as well as someone who has profited from the dispersant of medical recommendations and procedures to the people who suffer from ailments needing these bits of advice, feel at times like a hypocrite as I speak of the need of change within the very program I have participated with for over thirty years. But as I venture down this road myself and witness the care and options being delivered to my brothers and sisters, my children, I am left with a strong sense of sadness at the insufficiencies of the whole thing, and thus the urgent need for change.

As with any flood prevention, if real change is to occur an upstream application solution must be implemented to have even the slightest hope of effect on the overall status of the environment. I have seen as a Healthcare provider a steady decline in the decision making process surrounding the actions taken by people as it pertains to the care for sicknesses or injuries. One way this change may occur Insurance companies need to be taken out of the decision-making process of healthcare!

Years ago Stark Laws forbid Doctors to own or to partner in practices that they by way of referrals would possibly profit from, denying them the ability to send their patients to any augmenting service that they may partner with or profit from. This was implemented as a general practice to ensure no coercion was established in which Doctors might be swayed from making recommendations, or profiting from the recommendations of their patients care. This limitation was unfortunately not passed on to insurance companies themselves.

Insurance companies have been allowed by means of legislature, the ability to not only own any and all venues of healthcare from hospitals, specialty services, to private Doctors’ offices, but through the guise of contracting and authorizations, not only restrict and mandate the place where care is provided, thus who profits from this care, but also the actual decision making process as to whether or not the care will be provided. Basically, the entire decision-making pinnacle of all the health care no longer rests in the individual hands of the Physicians or more importantly the actual patients themselves, but sits in the hands of those who profit the most from limiting or denying the care altogether. The actual decision finds itself on the computer screen of clerks, or “Adjusters” that often have no medical training whatsoever, and merely give authorization or denials based purely upon the guidelines or recommendations of the programs set forth by the individual insurance companies themselves.

If I am not mistaken, when the insurance companies first set out to sell the American public the “Assurance” of medical insurance they often stated that; “If we pay them a monthly stipend, then, if and when an actual event would occur, they (The Insurance Companies) would then pay for the care necessary to overcome this tragedy. So, as a result, the general public that has given their money to the insurance companies for no other reason than to “Insure” when they will need care themselves the money will actually be there.

Being a Health Care Professional and a Private Practice owner for well over thirty years, gives one a bit of a perspective as to the process and the development of the medical environment, especially regarding the abilities of patient to receive the health care they were promised, as pertains to insurance, plus the need for any and all health care to basically go through the insurance company in and around the approval and payment. I have witnessed throughout the last thirty years a steady decline to the ability of an individual person to actually decide for themselves not only the form of health care they receive but even the decision as to whether or not they receive it at all.

There has been a steady decline in individualization of care as pertaining to patients and a gradual increase in standardization and protocols regarding treatment options. This all sounds great on the surface when it comes to cost containment and reduction of abuse of the funds, but the overall cost is that people are all placed in categories, and then it is so easy just to constantly wind down the benefit’s for each category or dictate exactly what care an individual will receive or not, based purely on the desire of the individual insurance company adjuster.

I have in thirty plus years seen every sort of atrocity that can be perpetrated against patients who have prescribed care for authenticated needs, most of the time by these adjusters who have admitted to either being prompted financially to reduce costs or deny care, or worse yet by clearing houses or better known as claims management companies who do nothing else but extremely limit care, dishing it out after long and tedious authorization procedures for like rations, then to cut cost significantly and then take their percentages profit payments based on these savings. The sad thing is the insurance company cannot even be sued for denying services because they are not the one doing it, and the clearinghouse has no contract with the insured so they are also beyond retribution, a loophole in the law continually abused by the insurance companies to cut costa t the expense of the patient.

Nowhere is this seen more then in the auxiliary care outpatient therapies or home health, where under the excuse of cost containment people are forced to wait up to weeks for authorization, limited to only a fraction of their need, or worse yet denied the care they already had ordered by a physician, even when it is often verified by a licensed therapeutic professional and more importantly been promised contractually by the insurance agency who by the way had no problem taking the patients monthly payment for years prior.

This behavior causes a reduction of the effectiveness of the treatment when it finally is delivered and can cause what was an acute occurrence to translate into a more chronic and longterm condition. It has been witnessed and proven that the effectiveness of therapeutic procedures is greatest when implemented immediately, as shortly after the event of injury or surgical procedure as possible. Waiting weeks or even months greatly increases the chance for normalization of symptoms, increased pharmacy dependency and basic placing people into a longterm patient mentality instead on the road to rapid recovery.

We must have a return to basics when it comes to healthcare!

A couple hundred years ago when this beautiful country was being penned and the foundations of liberty, with its pursuits of happiness, were being expressed, health care was nothing more than another part of the expectations of those who seek life and liberty. “Life”; what good parent wouldn’t want the best possible life for each of their children, and when an affliction found itself upon one of these children, a good parent would seek all the available knowledge out their to alleviate suffering from.

Did the wise grandmothers who had the knowledge issue it out for a price? Did they hold it or even deny it from a child in need, if said child failed to visit them or cut their grass, or give them money? I think not! But yet today knowledge and procedures for care, ideas that are not of their own, but learned by others, gifts of knowledge long ago bestowed upon brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers themselves, are now being issued out like rations for the many prisoners that find themselves in the wrong place, in the wrong prison, the sick and afflicted.

Worse yet these rations are regulated by those who profit the most by denying or control them. Information is being held, the best products with the purest of ingredients are tainted or manipulated for profit, courses of action are withheld, for the choice towards more profitable and chronically addicting possibilities, that have no intention of desire to cure anything, but merely alleviate symptoms and ensure that the pills will need to continue to be purchased.

I can remember with more pleasurable days a time when care was delivered without first the lengthy administrative paperwork ensuring the promise of payment. People would come to the medical provider with hope and trust, and the care would be given either in the form of advice or direct medical intervention. People understood the value of the care received and if they could not pay would extend something else of value from themselves to the healthcare provider.

In the early days of my physical therapy carrier, I remember a man who came in with an injury to his shoulder, and after a few direct applications of specific care he regained his motion, and while he didn’t have money to pay for what he received, he was a good friend of the owner of the facility and was sent away being told no cost would be assessed. Moments later he brought back a large piece of cured bacon, the man was a pig farmer, and this was how he paid for his care.

Somewhere along the line, we have been duped into believing that staying in a hospital room with those special little containers of sample toothpaste and little hotel soaps needs to cost thousands of dollars a day. It just seems funny to mess my contracted care with an insurance company for a single procedure in my practice hardly went up 5% over the course of twenty years, yet they had no problem paying thousands a day for that little room and those ridiculous items.

Fair market value for time spent, fair price for the items being used, I don’t think anyone would disagree with this kind of system. How sweet would it be to return to a system such as this?


Peter Colla Physical Therapist

You can view more writing and healthcare insights written by an experienced therapy provider at;
The Touch, Essence of Healing

Posted in Affordable Care Act, Battle, Change in Healthcare, Changes In Government, Changes In Health Care, Charity, Christian, Christianity, Healing, Health, Health Care, Healthcare, Medicine, Physical Therapy, President, Touch, Uncategorized, Wellness | Leave a comment