living with the top down
The VOice of God
a many splendored thing
My life changed the moment I spoke the phrase, “Living with the Top Down.” Prior to that moment, I had been living inside of a structured existence of other people's making. I had been living out the belief system of my family, was disconnected from God and searching for my purpose. Although I had been raised in an atmosphere where security was paramount in all career decisions, I felt led in a different direction. At the time, I didn't understand I needed to have a faith beyond anything I'd ever known to accept the life I was being drawn to; one that creates miracles and unfathomable results with every opportunity.
In November 2005, I had a planned trip to Los Angeles where I would be staying with my cousin for the first week, attend a weekend conference, and stay with another cousin the second. It was at Thanksgiving that my passion flourished. Traveling home from a social gathering, my friend, Natalie and I were discussing my future and how I might manifest the changes I wanted to implement. I told her how I got inspired while driving around Malibu with the convertible top down and I said, ‘I want to live with the Top Down.’ I stopped and looked at her. I could see that this statement really touched her.
At that moment, my mantra became Living with the Top Down. Within a year, I had left my job and moved from the Washington DC area to a beach town outside of Wilmington, NC. Oak Island welcomed me on June 16, 2006, and I began living my dream and creating unprecedented opportunities. I began to feel compelled to do something bigger than I know myself to be. I anticipated the daily walks along the seashore, writing my first novel, creating a life full of love and laughter, and living fully with freedom and ease.
I began my journey to fulfillment by creating a mantra, 'Living with the Top Down.' This came from a dream of living at the beach and driving a convertible. When I began sharing the mantra, it took on a life of its own. It began generating people to find this power inside themselves.
I am committed to making a difference in the world through authentic conversation, and fully expressing myself through my two passions: God and writing.
I knew the call of God from a very young age. It was my unwillingness to submit to God's will that led to the voice. The first time I heard the voice, I was sixteen. I was on a church choir tour and the timing must have been right. I heard the voice ask me to follow. I let my fear and arrogance deny the opportunity and I walked away from God.
In March 1991, I heard the voice again, but this time there was a challenge to the message. At that time, I was a smoker, and when the voice spoke, I heard, “You no longer smoke.” I have not had a yearning nor a cigarette since that day.
In February 1993, the voice got bold. I left my house and headed for the park path. My anxiety was overwhelming, and I intended to release the feeling as I approached the path. Having walked just under a mile, something began to feel very different. I immediately noticed that I was alone on the path which was very unusual. Although it was an unusually warm day for February, the farther I walked, the path was empty. I was strangely alone.
As I neared the half mile marker, my agitation grew to the point that I began to speak aloud. I began cursing my life, my kids, my parents, and most of all, God. I blamed God for everything that was going wrong and ignoring all the blessings. As my anger expanded, I got bold and began asking questions of God.
“Why do I have to live like this? Why can't I make enough money to get out of my parents’ house? How am I supposed to have a personal life with the responsibility of the boys and my parents watching my every move?”
I received no answers. My frustration grew from whispered grumbles to full-out screaming. At one moment, I stopped and screamed to the heavens, “If you are really there, why won't you answer me?”
Suddenly, everything around me shifted. The trees fell silent, the insects grew quiet, and my body became rigid. My eyes focused on the clouds moving slowly from left to right.
At that moment, my mouth opened and a voice, clearly not mine, said, “And what would you have Me say?”
Not really expecting a response, I stood in the space where God spoke, and awaited my response. I was speechless.
My heart opened spiritually as I began to see the greater purpose of my life. I began to write poetry, short stories and began a novel. However, deep down inside I knew I was supposed to write God's book. The title was clearly spoken, God Speaks.
The next time I heard God speak was the day I wrote His book. I had written twenty-seven pages over a period of six years, yet I could not connect with the message. On my 49th birthday, I sat down to write at least ten pages. As I sat in the chair, I noticed the clock and promised myself I would write for at least three hours. It was 10:30AM and I felt the laptop heating up my legs. I reread the page I’d written, and I didn’t know where to go.
As I looked at the last sentence, I heard God speak. “Nice book. It’s not mine. Erase it!”
I hesitated and then pressed, Ctrl – Alt – Delete and watched the pages disappear. I looked up and the words flowed. I started typing. Time seemed to stand still. I typed faster than I ever had or have since. When I typed the last word, I slammed shut the laptop and looked at the clock. It was 11:49PM. I had been typing all day, and it seemed to be just minutes. I slipped on my flip-flops and walked two blocks to the beach. The water was loud, and the moon was bright. I walked to the water’s edge and looked to the sky. With a full heart, I asked, “Is that what you wanted?”
Two ‘stars’ raced across the sky and vanished against the sea. I got my answer.
God Speaks A Dialogue is a personal and awakening conversation between God and you. This book will speak to love, choices, relationships and resistance. God Speaks to you every hour of every day. The conversation may be a direct conversation, as it was for me, or it may be a conversation you have with a friend or stranger. His message may come from a television show, a Facebook meme, or the look in a loved one's eyes.
The question isn't, 'what is God saying?'
The question is, 'am I listening?'
God Speaks A Dialogue is now available to you through this website.
I have loved and lost several times in my life. The first time I remember falling in love was at the age of twelve. My expression of love was most likely inappropriate, yet it was authentic. Not understanding that i needed to only fall in love with girls, I let my feelings explore other possibilities. When I fall in love and tend to fall hard and fast. I would guess that at least 50% of my loves were reciprocated. For those that weren't, I learned a lot about the type of person I am and to what I am attracted.
Strangely enough, looks are way down the list of things that attract me to another person. I love who the person hopes to be, and, sometimes, in spite of who s/he currently is. That backfired more times than not, but I didn't stop pursuing the possibility of love and fulfillment. My ex-wife and I seemed to be destined to be together even though we were completely incompatible. We had moments where magic happened which strengthened the bond until trust was broken.
My two great loves are my sons. They are realization of who I am and what I was born to fulfill. I believe I was a good father, and we had the house where all the kids wanted to hang out. I had rules and kept to them most of the time. The boys and I took a six-week trip across the country in a minivan. It was memorable and built a bond that exists today.
As much as I love my family, I needed someone who wanted and needed just me. I met Mike in the spring of 1997. I contacted him through the Washington Blade on-line ads. I saw his picture and thought he was so cute. It took a week or so to work out the details about where and when to meet. We decided to meet at a restaurant on Clarendon Blvd. I met him outside the restaurant, and quickly assessed that he was as cute as his picture. I sat across the table from him, listening to him tell me all about himself, and thinking how much I wanted to kiss him. I watched his smile slowly emerge as I touched his hand just as the food was being delivered. At that moment, I fell head over heels in love. An hour later, as we walked down the street, I pulled him into an alley and gave him a kiss. It was that kiss that sealed the deal. Our first kiss was magic. I knew at that moment, he would be the man I would love for the rest of my life. His passion for life excited me. He saw wonder in the beauty of nature, and his ability to love completely amazed me every day. My boys loved him. Mike was a gourmet cook, and his zest for life ignited everyone with whom he came into contact. Christmas was a cooking frenzy. He made cookies, candies, cakes and pies. There was more sugar available than should be legally allowed. Mike loved going on hikes deep into the woods. He marveled at the simplicity of nature, the intricacy of a spider web, or the beauty of a sunset over the Potomac River. His grace with people and power of self was self-evident whenever I was in a group of friends and saw the love each had for him. We started building a life together. I was more cautious because I had the welfare of my sons to think about. Although he had moments when he wished I wasn't a full-time father, he enjoyed playing surrogate on occasion. As the holiday season approached, things were shifting. I loved him more each day. However, the day came when who we were separately superseded who we were as a couple. Due to a major misunderstanding, we decided to take a break. As much as I struggled with dealing with my version of the truth, I was unable to let love lead my heart. At the time, I didn't know I had a choice. I refused to let go of one mistake. I wore that righteousness like an unforgiving banner, and because of pride and anger, I walked away from the most extraordinary relationship of my life. We found a way to remain in contact, secretly hoping I would find a way back, yet he eventually chose a job in San Diego, and, after a while, I started dating others. Mike and I remained friends after the break-up, but deep down I hoped we would find that magic again and reconnect romantically. I went to visit him once, and although he kept his distance, he did let me know that no matter how long he lived, I would be the love of his life. Following that trip, I distanced myself. I later found out he had returned in 2003 when I saw him at an event. I promised to call but didn't. After several months of not hearing from him, I found out he had been killed in a car accident. Mike is the love of my life, and I will always remember how his eyes sparkled and a smile crossed his face whenever he looked at me.
Washington Blade Obituary
Michael T. “Mike” Milar, a computer medical software engineer, died April 6 at Prince George’s County Hospital from injuries sustained in a traffic accident earlier that day in College Park, Md. He was 43. A native of Whittier, Calif., Milar was raised in California and South Dakota before his family moved to the D.C. area in 1975. In 1978, he graduated from Herndon High School, and then attended George Mason University. He recently returned to college at Strayer University to complete his degree in software systems engineering, and was living in Arlington, Va., at the time of his death.
Most recently, Milar worked for the San Diego-based PYXIS Corp. as a software applications project engineer. In that post, he was responsible for developing and maintaining biomedical data software applications for hospital clients in the mid-Atlantic region. Last year, the company recognized his work with customers and new employees by awarding him its Chairman Award.
In his spare time, Milar enjoyed cooking, country-western dancing and calligraphy. He also had an interest in Gaelic language and culture, and had traveled extensively in the Gaelic-speaking parts of Ireland.
His friend Jerry Filbin said those who knew Milar would remember him as a warm, compassionate person and a loyal friend.
Milar is survived by his mother, Margaret Milar, of Rock Rapids, Iowa; his father, Raymond Milar, of Pueblo, Colo.; his sister Mary Milar and her partner, Cindy Cowell, of Rancho Santa Fe, Calif.; his sister and brother-in-law, Jennifer and Paul Keegan, of Doon, Iowa; his brother and sister-in-law, Mark and Virginia Milar, of Pittsburgh, Pa.; and his brother, Timothy Milar, of Taos, N.M. He is also survived by many close friends in the D.C. area.
A local memorial service was held April 10 at All Souls Episcopal Church in Washington, D.C., and another was held April 17 in San Diego, Calif.
Milar was buried April 13 in Rock Rapids, Iowa.
I loved after Mike and I learned to listen to my instincts. I created a statement that sums up my forever guy, I want a man who smiles when he comes home. As a romantic, I have a reservoir of love to give to one special man. As I venture out on God's mission, I pray that we will cross paths and our souls will know in an instant that we are destined for forever.