Tag Archives: God
We’re Going to Hell in a Hand Basket, Except the Hand Basket Had Enough Sense to Dump its Contents and Head for Higher Ground
I abhor politics. They tend to be divisive rather than pull people together. What I’m about to speak on is more about the human condition.
In the United States, we have a real problem when it comes to discussing abortion. Personally, I’ve had it with the disregard for life. It’s tossed about as though it means nothing. Case in point, we are applauding the practice of late term abortions and infanticide.
I cannot for the life of me imagine totally birthing a baby and allowing this precious life to lie on a table until the powers-that-be decide whether or not to severe its spinal cord. In one state, they allow the murder of a full-term baby but have placed a moratorium on the death penalty.
“Dear Father, in heaven, forgive us . . .” I only wish I could add, “for we know not what we do.” The shame with this scenario is that we know exactly what we are doing, and I, for one, am ashamed at those who would allow this to happen, and even applaud, as it does. In fact, I am ashamed to live in a country where such an atrocity would be considered for legalization.
Jeremiah 1:5 “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I have appointed you a prophet to the nations.”
It never ceases to amaze me how I am able to look out of my window and see the miracle of God’s creation. With the onset of spring, this miracle will amplify itself into flowering beauty.
Along with the magnificence of spring, come unwanted, but necessary, biting pests. To me, these are the most astonishing of all. It is true they are the most annoying; however, to see a creature that small with a brain, nervous system and the ability to fly, digest, and use food for energy is truly amazing. Even though some of these bodily systems are rudimentary, the word miraculous is still an understatement. In my neck of the woods (Richmond, Va.), we have an insect called a no-see-um, because they are so tiny and extremely hard to see, although the damage they can do to your ankles is anything but hard to see.
On the other end of the spectrum, we have bumblebees and the like (carpenter bees, etc.) So un-aerodynamically designed, they defy physics being able to fly. God has a great sense of humor, so look around, enjoy the laughs and you may just find yourself marveling at those annoying little critters, feasting on your blood before you smash them flat.
As I write, I’m under a constant barrage of thoughts and ideas. This is much more a boon than a bane, giving me a plethora of notions to choose from for the short story, novel or whatever I happen to be penning at the time.
Occasionally, I’ll be blessed with a scenario, given to me for my comfort and enjoyment. I’d like to share with you the latest.
I’m just a little fella, not much more than a toddler, toddling down a dirt road. I’m barefoot, wearing khaki pants rolled up to my ankles. A tee shirt completes my ensemble. I am seen from the back moving as fast as my little legs will carry me. Laughter can be heard, cheerfully flowing from my mouth as I enjoy this romp down the dirt road.
My run comes to an abrupt halt with my feet tripping over one another sending me to the ground, a startled expression crossing my face.
Two hands reach down, pick me up and set me back on my feet. Once I see my benefactor, I squeal for joy. My Father God brushes the dirt from the front of my clothes, turns me around and does the same on my back. He kisses the top of my head, points me in the direction he wants me to go, and then lovingly pats my bottom, sending me on my way.
He watches over me through my entire life, picking me up, dusting me off and offering his guidance. I grow to know his son during my travels and experience a more abundant life until the dirt road ends. It’s then I begin to enjoy an unbelievable retirement plan.
I think back over my writing career and ponder how it came to be. Sure, there’s the short version I put in all my bios, about losing my job of sixteen years and being diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis and my son suggesting I give writing a try, but it’s much deeper than that.
I was raised in a Godly home, yet strayed in my late teens. I married in my mid-twenties, which in most ways was a mistake; however, received a wonderful blessing, my son. Even though my diagnosis came in 2006, I can look back and notice symptoms as early as 1993. I continued to move through life, remarrying in 1997. If there was ever such a thing as a soulmate, then I had found mine. Melding two families together was one of the greatest challenges my wife or I had ever faced, but with the help of God, we managed to not only make it through, but also grow our love for one another and our children. Health wise things took a turn for the worse. I ended up in the hospital for a month, part of which I was close to death. Over the next six months, I spent subsequent weeks back in the hospital. Slowly things began to improve. A year ago, a heart valve problem put me back in. I ended up on a ventilator, then they found the problem. They performed surgery to repair the valve, and I began the long path to recovery. I am in a wheelchair, but feeling good and optimistic about the future. I look where I am now, where this journey began and continue to marvel at the process that brought me here.
I could not conceive why so many negative things were happening to me. I learned it was because I was seeing a small part of the process, where-as God could see from beginning to end. Sometimes the only way out is through. Once I made it to the end of the journey, I thanked God for everything I had been through; for without the trials I would have never experienced the many blessings, I have received, the best being a relationship with Jesus. Not only does it give me a more abundant life here on earth, God has a fantastic retirement plan.
The spring season brings the Easter Bunny, Easter Egg hunts, and a new dress or suit of clothes for a trip to church.
For me, Easter means the death and resurrection of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Crucifixion was a ruthless and cruel way to die, but Jesus suffered much more than this on his way to the cross.
Jesus was tied around a post, pulling the skin and muscles on his back taught. He was beaten with a multi-tasseled whip containing sharp objects that were woven in to its tips. His back would have been shredded after receiving up to forty lashes.
His beard was ripped from his face. A sack was placed over his head, making him unable to brace for the numerous blows he would receive. The Bible tells us, and I paraphrase, looking upon Jesus you would not have known he was a human being. A crown of thorns was pressed into his scalp, and all this brutality before the first nail was driven.
Once on the cross, the painful process of attempting to breathe began. As bad as all of this was, I think the worse was yet to come. Fully man and fully God, Jesus knew no sin. Yet he bore the sin of all people past, present and future. Jesus paid for our sin, so we would not have to. This wonderful story strengthens me each day. It tells me I have nothing to fear, because Jesus paid it all. He has such love for us, I find it difficult to understand, but am oh so grateful. I hope each of you had a wonderful Easter weekend and may God bless you and yours!
If I Were to Fall into Fall Would the Fall Break My Fall? Likewise, If I Were to Spring into Spring Would the Fall Break My Fall? Too Many Questions, Can’t Think Straight, Too Many, Just Too Many
Once again it is upon us. In fact, it comes around every year at this particular time. When asked about it, most people will answer that it is their favorite. When there are four to select from, I guess the one chosen becomes special. How special, you ask? Well, allow me to enlighten you.
Books, both fiction and non-fiction, have been penned about this phenomenon. Somewhat of an opposite spectacle takes place six months prior to…or if you are on more of a subsequent thought pattern, you may take a six month after stance. Which one you take makes no difference to me. I don’t even know why I put such bazaar notions in this blog, although it does take up space. How do you like me now?
Again you ask, what is this that deserves so much attention, has been the subject of numerous types of literature, and inspired the very color palette we use today? The autumnal equinox signifies a change of the seasons, the onset of ragweed allergies, and the clogged snot lockers that ensue. For all you bugophiles and arachnophobiacs, don’t forget the cicadas, katydids and huge red spiders that also lend to the completion of summer. Aside from all the bugaboos, it’s a beautiful time, raking up leaves for your grandkids to jump in.
So take the opportunity to enjoy this gift from God.
Could it be? I’ve Heard it Many Times…at Least I Thunked I Did, Kinda, Sorta. But Does that Mean a “Soul Mate” is For Really and For True
Writing in the Sci-Fi / Fantasy, Action / Adventure genre’s rarely do I cross paths with romance. I do however include (what I reckon to be) a proper amount of romance in my novels to smooth out the sharp corners. It tends to soften the edges of the inordinate amount of naughty characters dismembering an all-around being mean to other naughty characters.
So there, you have tapped into my goody two shoes feminine side. Maybe I should rephrase the previous concept I spent so much time rattling on about. Do you ever consider the term “soul mate?” I never gave it much thought until the past decade or so.
I have a wife (my second) that I married in 1997. A first marriage has less than a 50% chance of being successful. A second marriage with children (which was what I was entering into) has less than a 20% chance of making it.
My house with two nine year old boys and a preteen girl was a war zone. I’d often wonder how we would survive. Well let me tell you in one word, “GOD.”
These days we’re pretty much one big happy family, with one grandson and another on the way.
My wife and I have grown closer and closer as the years have passed. The Bible says “two will become one,” and that could not ring truer. It’s not that you lose your identity you just gain an unbelievable closeness with your spouse.
She has always encouraged and supported my writing and is in every way the perfect partner for me. I guess you could call her my “soul mate.”
So there you have it, Father’s Day is in two weeks and I already have the only gift I need.
My newest release, “Terminal Core,” is being offered as an Amazon give-away for the next several days. Check it out and maybe win a free copy!
Turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, string bean casserole, cranberry sauce, family, friends and football. Put these together and what do you have… a 4th of July picnic, correct?
No, of course not, it’s a super bowl party… I think I’m wrong again.
I’ll refrain from this silliness. We all know I am speaking of Thanksgiving–that time of year when families come together to eat themselves into a class A-1 stupor.
Needless to say, this post has nothing to do with writing other than I’m writing this post.
More importantly, Thanksgiving is a time of reflection for the things in our lives that make us truly thankful for what we have.
In 2006, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis and since that time I have realized so many blessings they’re impossible to count.
To begin, our church built a ramp and a roll-in shower at no cost to us. I’m on a special diet and one of the ladies from the church cooks all my meals and another friend cuts our grass.
Friends visit, call and build things that I come up with to make life easier or to assist with exercising.
My mother and sister are down each week to help any way they can. My son works but takes a day to spend with me so my wife can go into work; other days we are blessed that she is able to work at home. I have an aunt that comes down to type for me and an uncle that sleeps while she does so …. and makes hot tea. My step-daughter used to type until another little blessing began to take up too much of her time. That little blessing would be my grandson (and I say this with no bias) he is the cutest and most adorable child in the entire known world. My stepson works constantly but will always take time to help us out if we need him. Even my in-laws who live five hours away have made it a point to help.
I myself have found that a person who was full of pride and thought he carried no baggage happened to turn around and notice the three mile long train full of baggage he had been pulling all these many years. I always thought of myself as a totally self-sufficient human being. What a rude awakening when I could no longer make it on my own. It was then that the pride began to fall away.
Now my wife: What can I say about a woman who has stuck beside me when many would have run. She treats me with unbelievable kindness and patience. She works normally seven days a week. Takes care of me twenty-four seven. Sacrifices sleep and any time for relaxation and yet greets me with a smile and a kiss throughout the day. I certainly don’t know what I did to deserve such an angel but I thank God every day for this blessing.
What better way to summarize than to tell you where all these blessings have come from. I am so thankful I have a God who loves me enough that He would take the time to correct me as a good father corrects his children and I am floored to think He would send His Son to die in such a horrible way so that I might spend eternity with Him.
This makes me think of my son and I know deep within my heart that I could not sacrifice him for anything.
So enjoy that turkey leg and especially your family but don’t forget where they all came from.
Have you ever had someone tell you when you’re in a tense situation to go to your happy place? Is this something that you’re able to accomplish? For me, there is no such thing as a “happy place” in my head. When I close my eyes, all I see are the inside of my eyelids.
My happy place entails luggage, vehicle, and enough gas to make it there. One I remember fondly is Cape Hatteras, North Carolina. I and my wife would travel there every October for our anniversary. She would read and I would fish.
The next trip would be in the winter with my son to fish for Striped Bass. The trip after that was usually in spring with my son to fish for Drum, Blues, and anything else that would bite our hooks. The fishing, the wonderful meals we would prepare, and the just being together would make for a long, wonderful weekend. We would leave Friday morning and not return until Monday, sometimes with coolers of fish and sometimes with coolers of melted ice.
It’s hard to describe the feeling of beaching a 30 lb. fish in the surf, or for that matter an 8 ounce Spot. Whether or not we caught fish was really immaterial. It was the time spent together that was most enjoyable.
I haven’t been able to fish in this manner for several years due to life’s unforeseen hiccups barring my path with unforeseen obstacles, as it does with us all. But God has brought me even closer to my family than I could have ever realized.
I am now in the middle of writing my autobiography. As I write, I take the time to remember the many situations that make my life my own. Even if you’re writing a work of fiction, be thorough. Make the work your own. I guess what I mean to say is to claim ownership over your writing. Don’t be afraid to put a piece of yourself in your characters. You will find that this will make your story more interesting because you are writing about something you know…that something being you.