Has blogging fell out of fashion? It seems like I read something somewhere that more or less gave me that impression. One thing is for sure - apparently it has for me. It has been a long time since my last post.
Writing used to be therapeutic for me, but not so much anymore. I don't really know why. I have written two and a half books. One was published. One was a professional manual for my line of work, and the unfinished one was a follow-on to my first novel. I never finished it.
It is very hard to break into the publishing world. I just did not want to go through the hassle again. I ended up signing with a small publisher. I was not overly happy with their editing process, their marketing or the pay (I got a percentage of each book sold), but I took it when it came up and had finally been published. As I began work on the sequel, I started looking around for an agent. I almost landed one too, but in the end, it was not to be. After that, with eleven chapters completed in the sequel, I just quit.
If you ever try to pitch yourself and your work to an agent, it can be tedious. Everything must be just right. Every i dotted and t crossed. You must use a professional business envelope and a regular U.S. postage stamp with no Elvis Presley or other off-beat art on the stamp. The American flag is acceptable. Anything else and the agent (or publisher for that matter) won't even open the envelope.
If you make it to the stage where your envelope is opened and your inquiry is actually read, you must be concise, polite, professional and straight to the point. If you make a spelling error in your letter, any reputable agent will immediately throw your letter into the trash. They just don't have the time to deal with someone that can't even proof an inquiry.
Yeah, writing used to be therapeutic for me, but not so much anymore. More to come.
Wednesday, July 01, 2015
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
For My Friends
I have wanted to write this for quite some time. Whenever I’d think about it though, I would make up some excuse to not write it. The excuses & thoughts ran from, “No one cares what you think,” to “Religion is a private matter,” to “What do you really hope to accomplish by telling people about this?” There were a few more excuses, but you get the point.
Nevertheless, here I am writing, which means I have finally made a decision. I have decided to write this and share it with my friends because I want you to know the real me, and I want you to know that I believe there is real, genuine hope in this life. Plus, I like to write, and as I said above, I have wanted to get this down on paper for a long time. Finally, with three broken ribs, I have some time on my hands. It’s not easy typing with broken ribs, but it is not as hard as I thought it was going to be.
I’m fairly certain that at least a few of you have heard this story, or parts of it, but now I want the whole story in one document.
So what is this story I’m prattling on about? Well, certainly since I used the word, “religion” above, you should be clued in. So, if you have some time, sit back, relax and give this a once over. I’m open to feedback, but it is not necessary. I’m not trying to convert anyone to my point of view, but if you wish to discuss things, then by all means – leave a comment or mail me.
In May of 1988, I made some friends when I started a new job. A few of them were Christians. I liked these new friends, and I listened to what they had to say about Jesus and God and the Scriptures. They provided me with books and materials that challenged me both intellectually and spiritually. I was raised a Catholic, but by 1988, I had strayed from those roots and had become one of those guys that says, “Religion is a personal thing, and besides, no one really knows what the truth is.” Further, I assumed that as long as my good works tipped the scales more than the bad things I had done, I would be allowed into heaven – if there really was such a place. Yet, these new friends were very confident a person could not only know there is a God, but could also have a close, personal relationship with God and be assured of spending eternity with God. To make a long story a bit shorter, they finally won me over and I agreed that I wanted what they had. They told me I had to make a prayer – that I had to ask God to save me, and that I had to believe in Jesus’ death, burial and resurrection for the forgiveness of my sins. In May of 1988, I made that prayer.
For the next twelve years, I lived the life of a Christian. We found a church that believed the Bible was God’s inspired Word, got baptized, and we attended regularly. We gave money to various ministries, and even began our own ministry where we got into concert production and band management. We brought in some of the heaviest bands in the land (bands populated with Christians) and saw a number of people converted to Christianity as well as Christians rededicating their lives back to Christianity.
And then I fell away. Not only did I fall away, but I became somewhat militant about it and even tried to refute Christianity. I don’t mean I was hostile (not to their faces anyway) but I would deliberately start debates with Christians on internet forums, in person, or via e-mail – just to see if I could get them to doubt. In trying to analyze why this happened, I can come up with a few things. The pain and suffering visible all around me caused me to doubt and question my faith. And my fellow Christians – I thought most of them were far from genuine. Within every community of believers there are hypocrites and liars and people trying to take advantage of other people. I let this cause me to doubt God’s power to effect real, genuine change in people that say they believe. Additionally, I felt the same lack of power within me. Why wasn’t it easier for me to follow in Christ’s footsteps? Why did it seem like such a battle? My solution? Chuck the whole thing. I mean, why fight a losing battle? I quit praying and began to seriously doubt what I had learned over the years regarding Christianity. I did not become an atheist. I considered that position, but it just did not seem logical to me – a person with a very limited view of a gigantic universe, to sit here on my infinitesimal, insignificant dot in space and declare, “There is no God.” I considered myself an agnostic, but one with a heavy lean towards atheism.
So that was my life until 2010. Well, I left out the excessive use of alcohol, the cursing, hatred for people that I felt wronged me, and all the other things that go along with being a guy angry at God and with himself for failing to live up to the standards I believed God had set for me. There were many times over those years of unbelief that I felt the need to pray, but I did not know whom to pray to. Occasionally, I would even think to myself how much I missed Jesus. I wanted Him to be true, but I just couldn’t believe it anymore. I remember my wife asking me, “Are you sure you want to just walk away from all this? Your faith has been very important to you.”
For several years, I reveled in my new-found “freedom.” I was no longer obligated to a church or giving to a church or worried about “performing” should some of my church friends see me in public. Sin became subjective, and fun became my objective. I started to drink whisky a bit too much. I was going through a large bottle of Jameson every two weeks and wanted to party with anyone that would join me.
And then lightning struck.
A series of vexing problems came at me all at once. Those closest to me know what problems I am referring to, but I will leave the details a mystery here in this little essay. Suffice it to say that these problems shook me up pretty well. For those of you that just can’t go on without knowing more, let me just say this much – these problems had nothing to do with marital infidelity. My wife remains my angel and best friend.
These problems became such a heavy burden that one day I found myself praying. I was hurting inside and grasping for something – anything. So I prayed. And then I dug out one of my old Bibles and began to read John’s gospel. And then I read the book of Acts. At first, I hid the fact that I was reading the Bible again. I think I was embarrassed to admit that I needed some help to get me through the problems I was experiencing at the time. I kept reading. I read John’s gospel again. I read all four gospels, and then Acts again. Then I started reading through the epistles. I prayed – with fervor and conviction I’d never had in the past.
Things started to slowly get better, but I didn’t know what to do about God. Things started happening that were obvious answers to prayers I had been making, yet, I felt as if I couldn’t just suddenly declare, “Guess what everyone! I think I believe in God again!” I felt like an idiot. I had declared myself a Christian in the past, chucked it and moved on to making fun of Christians and being totally hostile to the church (any church), and now I was going to declare myself a Christian again? No, I needed some time to just heal – some time to get used to the idea. I prayed for healing and patience. I continued to read Scripture, and pulled out some of my favorite books I’d somehow managed to save from my previous run at being a Christian. I reread Phillip Yancey’s “The Jesus I Never Knew,” C.S. Lewis’ “Mere Christianity,” Swindoll’s “The Grace Awakening.” I even made some new purchases of classic books I’d never read by A.W. Tozer, A.B. Simpson, R.A. Torrey along with newer books that had not been around back in my first try, like Lee Strobel’s “The Case For Christ,” and “The Case For Faith,” and “The Case For A Creator.”
At some point I told my wife about all of this. She told me that she had never quit believing, and that she still regularly prayed. We started praying together – every evening from that day forward. But still, I wanted to take things slow and be sure that what I was experiencing was genuine. I had made a fool of myself, pushed away old friends, caused people to doubt their faith and God’s power, and now I was looking at doing another 180.
Eventually, I felt like I needed to go to back to church. I felt a need to worship in a more formal setting with other Christians. But I didn’t know where to go. As I said above, I was raised in Catholicism – so was my wife – but we had attended protestant churches ever since 1988. I needed some place quiet, some place where I wouldn’t be jumped on and asked to join up and start tithing and get baptized and all that stuff some denominations want to hang on you. One day I said to my wife, “I think I’m going to go to Catholic mass this afternoon.” She replied, “I’ll go with you.” I knew that the Catholics would leave us alone, and to their everlasting credit – they did. People were friendly enough, though it is different in protestant circles. But it was quiet and brought back warm memories of childhood. Most of all, I could just sit there and heal.
I know why Protestants split off from Catholicism, and theologically speaking, I am more protestant than catholic. Yet, this time around, that stuff just doesn’t bother me nearly as much as it used to. One thing I have learned over the past few years is just how imperfect I am. I am a deeply flawed individual, and it is only by God’s grace that I have managed to make it this far, or to have kept so many wonderful, understanding friends.
Which brings me back to one of the excuses I used to quit believing – do you remember? I believe I made the point that hypocrites and liars and greedy people were one of the big reasons I walked away from Christianity. Now I realize that I have been all those things in my life. The church, as Scripture calls it, is “The Body of Christ.” That body is made up of sick people needing the ultimate healer. He heals using a soothing balm made with a generous portion of the oil of grace.
So, as I said back at the beginning, I write this for you, my friends. I want you to know where I’m coming from, and why you may have noticed things are different with me now. They are different, but please know that no matter your views on things, I still want to be your friend. Please do not be afraid to be yourself around me. Please speak your mind and continue to offer me a drink of good whisky or a glass of good wine or beer should we happen to get together. Do not expect me to preach at you, though if you wish to discuss the church, theology, spiritual things, feel free – I love to talk about those things, but I usually will not bring them up. The only thing I ever say anymore to people that are seeking is just to tell them to pray – sincerely pray – ask God to reveal the truth. Then read John’s gospel. The rest is out of my hands.
I’m still not sure what I’m going to do about a church home. There are a few in the Jacksonville area that interest me, but they are too much of a drive. I’m not worried about it. No building can hold God, but I do like to fellowship with other believers.
So, that is my story. I hope it clears things up for some of you that have wondered. I am sorry to those of you that find this development disappointing – I hope that we can remain friends.
Nevertheless, here I am writing, which means I have finally made a decision. I have decided to write this and share it with my friends because I want you to know the real me, and I want you to know that I believe there is real, genuine hope in this life. Plus, I like to write, and as I said above, I have wanted to get this down on paper for a long time. Finally, with three broken ribs, I have some time on my hands. It’s not easy typing with broken ribs, but it is not as hard as I thought it was going to be.
I’m fairly certain that at least a few of you have heard this story, or parts of it, but now I want the whole story in one document.
So what is this story I’m prattling on about? Well, certainly since I used the word, “religion” above, you should be clued in. So, if you have some time, sit back, relax and give this a once over. I’m open to feedback, but it is not necessary. I’m not trying to convert anyone to my point of view, but if you wish to discuss things, then by all means – leave a comment or mail me.
In May of 1988, I made some friends when I started a new job. A few of them were Christians. I liked these new friends, and I listened to what they had to say about Jesus and God and the Scriptures. They provided me with books and materials that challenged me both intellectually and spiritually. I was raised a Catholic, but by 1988, I had strayed from those roots and had become one of those guys that says, “Religion is a personal thing, and besides, no one really knows what the truth is.” Further, I assumed that as long as my good works tipped the scales more than the bad things I had done, I would be allowed into heaven – if there really was such a place. Yet, these new friends were very confident a person could not only know there is a God, but could also have a close, personal relationship with God and be assured of spending eternity with God. To make a long story a bit shorter, they finally won me over and I agreed that I wanted what they had. They told me I had to make a prayer – that I had to ask God to save me, and that I had to believe in Jesus’ death, burial and resurrection for the forgiveness of my sins. In May of 1988, I made that prayer.
For the next twelve years, I lived the life of a Christian. We found a church that believed the Bible was God’s inspired Word, got baptized, and we attended regularly. We gave money to various ministries, and even began our own ministry where we got into concert production and band management. We brought in some of the heaviest bands in the land (bands populated with Christians) and saw a number of people converted to Christianity as well as Christians rededicating their lives back to Christianity.
And then I fell away. Not only did I fall away, but I became somewhat militant about it and even tried to refute Christianity. I don’t mean I was hostile (not to their faces anyway) but I would deliberately start debates with Christians on internet forums, in person, or via e-mail – just to see if I could get them to doubt. In trying to analyze why this happened, I can come up with a few things. The pain and suffering visible all around me caused me to doubt and question my faith. And my fellow Christians – I thought most of them were far from genuine. Within every community of believers there are hypocrites and liars and people trying to take advantage of other people. I let this cause me to doubt God’s power to effect real, genuine change in people that say they believe. Additionally, I felt the same lack of power within me. Why wasn’t it easier for me to follow in Christ’s footsteps? Why did it seem like such a battle? My solution? Chuck the whole thing. I mean, why fight a losing battle? I quit praying and began to seriously doubt what I had learned over the years regarding Christianity. I did not become an atheist. I considered that position, but it just did not seem logical to me – a person with a very limited view of a gigantic universe, to sit here on my infinitesimal, insignificant dot in space and declare, “There is no God.” I considered myself an agnostic, but one with a heavy lean towards atheism.
So that was my life until 2010. Well, I left out the excessive use of alcohol, the cursing, hatred for people that I felt wronged me, and all the other things that go along with being a guy angry at God and with himself for failing to live up to the standards I believed God had set for me. There were many times over those years of unbelief that I felt the need to pray, but I did not know whom to pray to. Occasionally, I would even think to myself how much I missed Jesus. I wanted Him to be true, but I just couldn’t believe it anymore. I remember my wife asking me, “Are you sure you want to just walk away from all this? Your faith has been very important to you.”
For several years, I reveled in my new-found “freedom.” I was no longer obligated to a church or giving to a church or worried about “performing” should some of my church friends see me in public. Sin became subjective, and fun became my objective. I started to drink whisky a bit too much. I was going through a large bottle of Jameson every two weeks and wanted to party with anyone that would join me.
And then lightning struck.
A series of vexing problems came at me all at once. Those closest to me know what problems I am referring to, but I will leave the details a mystery here in this little essay. Suffice it to say that these problems shook me up pretty well. For those of you that just can’t go on without knowing more, let me just say this much – these problems had nothing to do with marital infidelity. My wife remains my angel and best friend.
These problems became such a heavy burden that one day I found myself praying. I was hurting inside and grasping for something – anything. So I prayed. And then I dug out one of my old Bibles and began to read John’s gospel. And then I read the book of Acts. At first, I hid the fact that I was reading the Bible again. I think I was embarrassed to admit that I needed some help to get me through the problems I was experiencing at the time. I kept reading. I read John’s gospel again. I read all four gospels, and then Acts again. Then I started reading through the epistles. I prayed – with fervor and conviction I’d never had in the past.
Things started to slowly get better, but I didn’t know what to do about God. Things started happening that were obvious answers to prayers I had been making, yet, I felt as if I couldn’t just suddenly declare, “Guess what everyone! I think I believe in God again!” I felt like an idiot. I had declared myself a Christian in the past, chucked it and moved on to making fun of Christians and being totally hostile to the church (any church), and now I was going to declare myself a Christian again? No, I needed some time to just heal – some time to get used to the idea. I prayed for healing and patience. I continued to read Scripture, and pulled out some of my favorite books I’d somehow managed to save from my previous run at being a Christian. I reread Phillip Yancey’s “The Jesus I Never Knew,” C.S. Lewis’ “Mere Christianity,” Swindoll’s “The Grace Awakening.” I even made some new purchases of classic books I’d never read by A.W. Tozer, A.B. Simpson, R.A. Torrey along with newer books that had not been around back in my first try, like Lee Strobel’s “The Case For Christ,” and “The Case For Faith,” and “The Case For A Creator.”
At some point I told my wife about all of this. She told me that she had never quit believing, and that she still regularly prayed. We started praying together – every evening from that day forward. But still, I wanted to take things slow and be sure that what I was experiencing was genuine. I had made a fool of myself, pushed away old friends, caused people to doubt their faith and God’s power, and now I was looking at doing another 180.
Eventually, I felt like I needed to go to back to church. I felt a need to worship in a more formal setting with other Christians. But I didn’t know where to go. As I said above, I was raised in Catholicism – so was my wife – but we had attended protestant churches ever since 1988. I needed some place quiet, some place where I wouldn’t be jumped on and asked to join up and start tithing and get baptized and all that stuff some denominations want to hang on you. One day I said to my wife, “I think I’m going to go to Catholic mass this afternoon.” She replied, “I’ll go with you.” I knew that the Catholics would leave us alone, and to their everlasting credit – they did. People were friendly enough, though it is different in protestant circles. But it was quiet and brought back warm memories of childhood. Most of all, I could just sit there and heal.
I know why Protestants split off from Catholicism, and theologically speaking, I am more protestant than catholic. Yet, this time around, that stuff just doesn’t bother me nearly as much as it used to. One thing I have learned over the past few years is just how imperfect I am. I am a deeply flawed individual, and it is only by God’s grace that I have managed to make it this far, or to have kept so many wonderful, understanding friends.
Which brings me back to one of the excuses I used to quit believing – do you remember? I believe I made the point that hypocrites and liars and greedy people were one of the big reasons I walked away from Christianity. Now I realize that I have been all those things in my life. The church, as Scripture calls it, is “The Body of Christ.” That body is made up of sick people needing the ultimate healer. He heals using a soothing balm made with a generous portion of the oil of grace.
So, as I said back at the beginning, I write this for you, my friends. I want you to know where I’m coming from, and why you may have noticed things are different with me now. They are different, but please know that no matter your views on things, I still want to be your friend. Please do not be afraid to be yourself around me. Please speak your mind and continue to offer me a drink of good whisky or a glass of good wine or beer should we happen to get together. Do not expect me to preach at you, though if you wish to discuss the church, theology, spiritual things, feel free – I love to talk about those things, but I usually will not bring them up. The only thing I ever say anymore to people that are seeking is just to tell them to pray – sincerely pray – ask God to reveal the truth. Then read John’s gospel. The rest is out of my hands.
I’m still not sure what I’m going to do about a church home. There are a few in the Jacksonville area that interest me, but they are too much of a drive. I’m not worried about it. No building can hold God, but I do like to fellowship with other believers.
So, that is my story. I hope it clears things up for some of you that have wondered. I am sorry to those of you that find this development disappointing – I hope that we can remain friends.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Feeling It
I'm feeling really depressed right now. My son just left to go back to Ft. Benning. In just days he'll be flying out for Afghanistan. We don't know where he will be once he is in Afghanistan, except that he'll be in Afghanistan. He doesn't even know.
All I can tell you is that I'm feeling pretty bummed. If you happen by here, and you pray, please pray for me. I'm really hurting. And pray for my son Tim's safety and well-being. Thank you.
All I can tell you is that I'm feeling pretty bummed. If you happen by here, and you pray, please pray for me. I'm really hurting. And pray for my son Tim's safety and well-being. Thank you.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
A Sobering World
It is a sobering world we live in, yes? This whole thing with George Zimmerman and Trayvon Martin has most of us asking some very important questions about racial harmony.
Do you think we can ever achieve it? I'm not so sure. Perhaps one day in the future, after all of the last vestiges of what it means to be an American have been scrubbed out of our schools and universities, it will be attainable, but that remains to be seen. I think many of our metro-sexual males these days don't really think in terms like I do. Pop music tastes of the young seem to reflect that these days. A mixture of rap and rock is popular with our youth. Even rap music is popular with many of the young whites these days. It should be well known (as well as obvious) that Mr. Obama could not possibly have been elected without the white youth vote. And they voted for him in droves. But, I don't want to lose my point here. Which is: perhaps someday in the future, we can have racial harmony, but I don't see it any time soon.
But see, then there's me. I'm 50. I have some black friends. I mean, we don't hang out, but I count them as friends. I even have black neighbors. We get along fine. They are quiet and keep their house and yard up. And those are my only requirements for you to be my neighbor. If you lead a relatively quiet life and keep your house and yard up, I could not care less what you look like. You could be candy-striped for all I care.
Yet, at the same time, I just don't hang out with any black folks. I'm too different. I don't care for Obama (didn't like Bush either, but that's another story). Virtually every black person I know thinks Obama is awesome. In many cases, blacks don't think like I do. For example, I think it's crystal clear that O.J. Simpson murdered Nicole Simpson. But I will never forget the sheer joy and happiness I saw in my black coworkers when he was found not guilty of Nicole's death at trial. When I heard about George Zimmerman, my only thought (other than "here we go again") was, "Let the facts come out. Don't rush to judgement." But here in Florida, we had people marching in the streets threatening to kill George Zimmerman. The New Black Panther Party called for his DEATH. Can you imagine that? Can you imagine any white calling for the death of a black in public? That guy would be tarred and feathered and have to go into hiding for a long time. See, there's another disconnect in our thinking. A guy that was clearly guilty got away with murder, but a guy that hasn't even been tried yet is guilty and deserves to die.
My musical tastes are different, I don't care for a lot of "soul food" though I admit I haven't tried much of it. Not because I'm a racist, but because I've heard the ingredients and I'm pretty sure I don't want a lot of it. But I do love me some greens now! I think much of affirmative action is reverse discrimination. I don't care to see the underwear of black males either. See, I'm just too different, and this explains why I don't hang around with blacks. I don't hate their being different. Some of it I don't understand, but I don't hate over it.
I could go on, but you probably get the picture by now. But you know something? I don't hang out with Serbians or Chinese either. Those are different cultures. They like their cultures. I like mine.
In the end, we have to find a way to get along. Respect for each other's views would go along way toward that, but I will always believe this is a spiritual struggle more than anything. Scripture makes it clear in Ephesians 6:12 "For our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the world powers of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavens." We must learn to accept that we are different, and no amount of forcing it can make it go away.
What is required more than anything is humbling ourselves. I must, once and for all, get it through my head that I am no better than anyone else. I must learn to see everyone for exactly what we all are: broken, damaged, fallen.
Do you think we can ever achieve it? I'm not so sure. Perhaps one day in the future, after all of the last vestiges of what it means to be an American have been scrubbed out of our schools and universities, it will be attainable, but that remains to be seen. I think many of our metro-sexual males these days don't really think in terms like I do. Pop music tastes of the young seem to reflect that these days. A mixture of rap and rock is popular with our youth. Even rap music is popular with many of the young whites these days. It should be well known (as well as obvious) that Mr. Obama could not possibly have been elected without the white youth vote. And they voted for him in droves. But, I don't want to lose my point here. Which is: perhaps someday in the future, we can have racial harmony, but I don't see it any time soon.
But see, then there's me. I'm 50. I have some black friends. I mean, we don't hang out, but I count them as friends. I even have black neighbors. We get along fine. They are quiet and keep their house and yard up. And those are my only requirements for you to be my neighbor. If you lead a relatively quiet life and keep your house and yard up, I could not care less what you look like. You could be candy-striped for all I care.
Yet, at the same time, I just don't hang out with any black folks. I'm too different. I don't care for Obama (didn't like Bush either, but that's another story). Virtually every black person I know thinks Obama is awesome. In many cases, blacks don't think like I do. For example, I think it's crystal clear that O.J. Simpson murdered Nicole Simpson. But I will never forget the sheer joy and happiness I saw in my black coworkers when he was found not guilty of Nicole's death at trial. When I heard about George Zimmerman, my only thought (other than "here we go again") was, "Let the facts come out. Don't rush to judgement." But here in Florida, we had people marching in the streets threatening to kill George Zimmerman. The New Black Panther Party called for his DEATH. Can you imagine that? Can you imagine any white calling for the death of a black in public? That guy would be tarred and feathered and have to go into hiding for a long time. See, there's another disconnect in our thinking. A guy that was clearly guilty got away with murder, but a guy that hasn't even been tried yet is guilty and deserves to die.
My musical tastes are different, I don't care for a lot of "soul food" though I admit I haven't tried much of it. Not because I'm a racist, but because I've heard the ingredients and I'm pretty sure I don't want a lot of it. But I do love me some greens now! I think much of affirmative action is reverse discrimination. I don't care to see the underwear of black males either. See, I'm just too different, and this explains why I don't hang around with blacks. I don't hate their being different. Some of it I don't understand, but I don't hate over it.
I could go on, but you probably get the picture by now. But you know something? I don't hang out with Serbians or Chinese either. Those are different cultures. They like their cultures. I like mine.
In the end, we have to find a way to get along. Respect for each other's views would go along way toward that, but I will always believe this is a spiritual struggle more than anything. Scripture makes it clear in Ephesians 6:12 "For our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the world powers of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavens." We must learn to accept that we are different, and no amount of forcing it can make it go away.
What is required more than anything is humbling ourselves. I must, once and for all, get it through my head that I am no better than anyone else. I must learn to see everyone for exactly what we all are: broken, damaged, fallen.
Sunday, March 04, 2012
It's All Fabulous!
Hey, how's that for a blog title? Pretty sneaky, eh? Because it is not all fabulous. It never is. You know that.
But I did want to check in with my couple of regular readers. Hi!
Life for me is pretty good these days. Anyone that has ever read here with any regularity knows that I am blessed with the finest wife a man could ever hope for. She really is Superwoman. "She cooks! She cleans! She brings home the bacon and fry's it up in a pan!" No, really - she does all that and more. I try and do my part. I'm a responsible person in my own right, so it's not out of pure gratitude that I hold up my end of the bargain, but gratitude for her hard work does keep me pushing on. I cook and clean too. And yeah, in case you're wondering, I hold down a regular job.
A few blogs back, I said that I would not make every blog about my rediscovery of faith. I'm finding that hard to do. Faith has become such a big part of my life these days. Plus, I think, to be completely accurate, no matter what I said in past blogs, what I meant was that I would not become a sort of "gospel-goofball" type where my every comment on your blog and here at my blog is about faith and Christianity.
Like I said above, that's harder than I thought it would be. Why? Well, when you find yourself in a good and happy place, it's hard to not tell others about it. And that's where I am. Perfect life? Hardly. I never want to be trite or flippant. Following Christ is not all roses and crowns. Often, it is very difficult. People that say things like, "Just believe in Jesus and your life will be all better," are either ignorant new believers, or something worse. I definitely still have troubles and problems. But they sure are easier to handle when handled with faith.
It looks like my son - the one on active duty in the U.S. Army - is headed to Afghanistan sometime within the next few months. I think he'll be okay, but I still wish he was not going. He wants to go. Not because he wants to go and fight. He will fight if it comes to that, but he looks at it from the point of, "I can make some good money over there and come back and pay my car off." He will go over there surrounded by our prayers and love. I have told him over and over again to be respectful of the Afghan people. I truly believe that most of them are just like most of us - in that they just want to live a decent life and raise their children in peace.
I know, from the stats page, that folks from other countries read here. To those of you that are not U.S. citizens, and are living in a foreign country, please believe me when I say that the average American just wants to live in peace with you. Our government has been captured by very wealthy people with interests in huge banks and corporations that make weapons. We are working towards taking our government back, but it will take some time. People are wising up though, and you will begin to see that in our elections. Most of us just want to live in peace and raise our children in peace. And remember this about Americans. We have been in many foreign countries over the 225+ years of our existence - all we have left behind are the graves of American soldiers - and usually, more choices for the citizens.
But I did want to check in with my couple of regular readers. Hi!
Life for me is pretty good these days. Anyone that has ever read here with any regularity knows that I am blessed with the finest wife a man could ever hope for. She really is Superwoman. "She cooks! She cleans! She brings home the bacon and fry's it up in a pan!" No, really - she does all that and more. I try and do my part. I'm a responsible person in my own right, so it's not out of pure gratitude that I hold up my end of the bargain, but gratitude for her hard work does keep me pushing on. I cook and clean too. And yeah, in case you're wondering, I hold down a regular job.
A few blogs back, I said that I would not make every blog about my rediscovery of faith. I'm finding that hard to do. Faith has become such a big part of my life these days. Plus, I think, to be completely accurate, no matter what I said in past blogs, what I meant was that I would not become a sort of "gospel-goofball" type where my every comment on your blog and here at my blog is about faith and Christianity.
Like I said above, that's harder than I thought it would be. Why? Well, when you find yourself in a good and happy place, it's hard to not tell others about it. And that's where I am. Perfect life? Hardly. I never want to be trite or flippant. Following Christ is not all roses and crowns. Often, it is very difficult. People that say things like, "Just believe in Jesus and your life will be all better," are either ignorant new believers, or something worse. I definitely still have troubles and problems. But they sure are easier to handle when handled with faith.
It looks like my son - the one on active duty in the U.S. Army - is headed to Afghanistan sometime within the next few months. I think he'll be okay, but I still wish he was not going. He wants to go. Not because he wants to go and fight. He will fight if it comes to that, but he looks at it from the point of, "I can make some good money over there and come back and pay my car off." He will go over there surrounded by our prayers and love. I have told him over and over again to be respectful of the Afghan people. I truly believe that most of them are just like most of us - in that they just want to live a decent life and raise their children in peace.
I know, from the stats page, that folks from other countries read here. To those of you that are not U.S. citizens, and are living in a foreign country, please believe me when I say that the average American just wants to live in peace with you. Our government has been captured by very wealthy people with interests in huge banks and corporations that make weapons. We are working towards taking our government back, but it will take some time. People are wising up though, and you will begin to see that in our elections. Most of us just want to live in peace and raise our children in peace. And remember this about Americans. We have been in many foreign countries over the 225+ years of our existence - all we have left behind are the graves of American soldiers - and usually, more choices for the citizens.
Sunday, January 08, 2012
So Over It
This may come as a shock to some of you, but I am quitting
politics. From this moment forward, I
vow to discuss politics only with my family and that only occasionally.
Why you ask? Well,
maybe you don’t ask. Maybe you could
care less. I’m going to assume that if
you’re still reading, you do wonder why.
OK, I will try to sum up my thoughts and feelings for you.
It is a waste of my time.
I’m not really going to influence anyone that has their mind made
up. From what I can tell, that is just
about every person with a pulse. They
may not admit it publicly, but deep inside they know whom they favor. Some folks feign independence or
open-mindedness, but I’m not buying it.
I will allow (in the interest of avoiding another pointless argument)
that some folks really do not have any idea as to which candidate they will
vote for, but those types are few and far between. Let’s face it – people, by and large, are going
to vote for the establishment candidates.
My personal belief is that the two major party candidates
are selected and vetted by the real power in this country: the very
wealthy. There are other very wealthy,
non-citizens outside of this country that also have a say. Politics is all about money and power. Money and power provide influence. I have very little money, no power and zero
influence. Ultimately, politicians care
very little about what we lower middle-class folks think. They will only listen if we are in mass
agreement, and that is almost guaranteed not to happen until we have some sort
of mega-disaster that jars people into realistic thinking and caring about
things outside of their own little TV and mass media soaked world.
I’m sick and tired of it.
Seriously. We change teams every
few years or so and things never get better.
The government NEVER GETS LESS POWER.
Government never shrinks or has fewer departments and fewer laws. It’s always a net gain for government – which
should explain to any thoughtful person how we’ve ended up with giant leviathan
we call our central, federal government.
Every election it’s the same thing. The Red Team gets mad at the Blue Team. Red Team wins. Government gets more power. Blue Team gets mad at Red Team. Blue Team wins. Government gets more power. Inevitably, some people begin to think that a
new party or an independent candidate might be the answer. They are then laughed out of politics by the
giant money/media/corporate machine that selects the two party candidates we
get to vote for. Lies are made up and distortions
of record, void of any contextual anchor are ginned up, while any past mistake
or missteps that the third party independent candidate has made are blown out
of proportion and context. Viola – the
candidate has no chance at election.
People get genuinely angry over this stuff. Some even literally hate you if you’re on the
opposite team. I have had enough. I’m getting off the carousel. I’m not saying I won’t vote, but I am done
discussing it. Under the current
corporate owned system, I find myself amused if you think you have any real
power or influence with your vote.
I will close with a prediction. It’s not like I’m taking much of a chance
here, but I predict that after the next election, government will get bigger
and have more influence over your personal life – no matter which establishment
party candidate wins.
Sunday, January 01, 2012
Looking Back - Looking Forward
As I look back over 2011, I see a lot of things in my
life. At the risk of sounding the
braggart, I grew as a human. I grew in
my trust in God. Yet, at the same time,
I admit that I am a weakling. There are
times when I wish to give up and scream “I don’t understand anything!”
2011 was filled with answered prayer. Again, at risk of sounding like I’m bragging,
the prayers that my wife and I have seen answered are just too amazing to be coincidental. Trying to list them from memory is tough, but
here are a few.
We prayed that our son would not have to deploy to
Afghanistan. Inexplicably, his
deployment was cancelled.
Our son had duty on Thanksgiving Day. We prayed that he’d be able to come home
anyway. Someone took his watch.
Without going into detail, after a near-disaster by those
that replaced me, I was restored to my former position at work.
We never really prayed for it, but we did occasionally
mention how some extra money would really help us to help others, as well as
set us up on a good path. Completely by
surprise, and again, leaving out details, $11,000 arrived in the mail.
We felt led to give some money to a complete stranger. We did not wish to identify ourselves in the
process, but after leaving the money in their mailbox, I decided, against the
strong feeling that it wouldn’t matter, that I had to make sure they, and not
the mailman, got the money. So, I rolled
by their house in my truck, and the husband was out front. I yelled, “Hey, check your mailbox!” He said, “Stop! Stop!
Turn into my drive! I got the
money! You did that?” Well, I was busted. He told me, “You have no idea how much we
needed that money. Thank you so much.” I told him that I never wanted him to know
that we gave the money, and I meant it when I said to him, “Thank God, because
God made it possible.” Aside from my failure to trust the strong signal God gave me that this man and his wife would get the money out of their mailbox before the mail man, this whole episode was an incredible blessing.
Honestly, I could go on, but I don’t have the time, and
there has been so much answered prayer, that I’m actually losing track of it
all. I know that sounds a bit
ungrateful, but I can’t help my memory.
It is what it is.
I learned a lot over the year. I’m amazed at the world’s western “democracies”
and their power to kick the can down the road.
I don’t understand how they have managed to keep the global “Ponzi
scheme” going, but they have. I find it
very disturbing though. Why? Because when they run out of cans to kick,
the crash is going to be that much worse.
But, back to God – a favorite subject of mine
these days. I would never expect those
of you that do not believe to really listen to anything I have to say. One can read my past blogs and see just what
a failure I have been. I never set out to
fail, or to doubt, or to give my friends any reason to doubt – yet, here I
am. Honestly, I do not know how I went
almost a decade without acknowledging God.
So many things happened – mostly for the negative – yet God had mercy on
me and drew me back. And that leads me to my prediction for 2012.
God will continue to grow me. God
will continue to work in my life, and I’ll report about that here as the months
go by.
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