Sunday, October 30, 2011

The Wooden Box

"The Wooden Box" is my first short story and is available on Amazon-Kindle. Writing this story about faith was truly a joy for me. Researching and character development were new tools that were required very little when writing "Going Numb" and "Addicted to Faith".
The story is about the Goode Family and generations of men whose faith was a key element in their relationship with Christ. As I wrote the story I felt as if these fictional characters were close friends, friends which I would want to sit down with over a cup of coffee and listen to their stories. So I found ending the story difficult, as if saying good-bye to old friends. Before making it available on Amazon-Kindle I went back and edited certain sections to allow a reunion with the Goode Family if I am so compelled in the future.
I hope you enjoy the story and meeting the Goode's as much as I did writing about them.
If you do not have a E-reader do not worry. You can download a reader on your PC or smart-phone absolutely free at Amazon's site.

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 http://www.amazon.com/The-Wooden-Box-ebook/dp/B0060FRRAU/ref=sr_1_11?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1319810785&sr=1-11

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

It's not fair.

So much can be revealed in a  late night conversation with a 15 year old daughter. A daughter who suddenly feels the weight of the world on her shoulders.

I am blessed in that my daughter will sit with me in our living room and just talk. Sometimes we talk about current events, the ones you will find in the entertainment news, not so much the ones on the evening news. Other times we talk about family and friends, about something funny, about something sad. We talk about the future and sometimes we talk about the past. On occasion we might even talk about God.

Tonight we talked about life.

My daughter has some very close friends that are going through difficult times and she hurts for them. Through the tears she shared with me her concerns for her friends. She was vague in the details and I didn't probe. My "Dad Senses" have been honed well enough to know when to just listen and how to determine when probing questions are critical...tonight they were not needed.

The care and love she has for her friends has been a characteristic of hers since she was four years old. Her burning desire to help others has been evidenced just as long. Tonight she felt helpless. Some problems, many problems are too big for a fifteen year old. She wanted to fix the problem. I told her that sometimes the fix belongs to someone else, it is out of our hands. But when we can't fix, we support. We provide shoulders to cry on, ears to listen. We become momentary respites for those we want to help. And although their problems are still there, for just a moment you take their mind off of it, for just a moment you let them catch their breath...by just being there.

I steered our conversation towards a time when she had helped other friends that had faced problems. I remembered a young boy that had become addicted to drugs at a very young age. The problem had elevated to a point with legal consequence and he was arrested. Sara (my daughter, in case you haven't met her) stayed by his side. She was hard on him about his habit, she showed concern for his future. She checked on him, she cried with him. She helped him. She was his friend.

Our conversation stayed on the subject of addictions. We talked about her Mom. We talked about my father and my baby sister. We talked about her friends and others that she has known in school that have battled or are battling addictions. We talked about choices made that lead to a life controlled by substance abuse. I told her that addicts, like her Mom, say and do things because of a drug. The addict makes decisions, bad decisions, because of a drug. I told her that inside of the addict is a good person trying to get out, we just can't see them.

Her tears began to flow again. She said, "I am only 15 years old and I  already know too many people who are addicted to some drug. I already know too much about this subject. It's not fair."

All I could do was sit silently. This problem was too big for me, It would have been so easy for me to say that "life's not always fair.", to offer fatherly wisdom with words like hope, faith and God. But I didn't. Instead I just gave her a hug and told her I love her; because she is right, "It's not fair!"

At fifteen she should be worried about what to wear to school and boys. She should be thinking about her future and boys. She should be making plans for slumber parties not plans on how to keep a friend from becoming homeless. She should be sharing her life with her mother, not waking up from bad dreams with anger towards her Mom being reignited.

I told her we would help her friends in every way we can, and then I told her to be sure to pray for them . She will.

I prayed tonight and I told God....it's not fair.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Where have I been?

It has been a while since I have written anything. I thought I would take this opportunity to update you. Then after doing so make a comment on an incredible bible study I attended this morning. You will soon see that the two really go hand in hand.

Writer's block comes in many ways. Too often it is just an excuse for laziness. Other times it is a poor excuse to delay facing the truth that the creative juices have dried up. It may also reveal that writing was just a temporary relief valve during the trials we face in this thing called life. Whatever the reason, sometimes we just give up. (Am I still talking about writer's block?)

I have attempted on numerous occasions since my wife walked out of our lives to write something. But each time I did, the words, the thoughts would be dark and depressing. I have enjoyed writing for more years than I care to remember, and if the words on the page suddenly were able to depress me, I knew they were not worth sharing with you.

More than a year has passed since she decided that her life as a wife and mother was no longer appealing. The multitude of feelings I had, have since faded to little more than shadows. I discovered, by observing my children, that life marches on. Rainy days still come, (although few and far between in south Texas) bills still arrive with regularity in the mail box. Knees are stilled skinned and Homecoming mums are still needed. The number of wrinkles that appear on my face didn't increase in number or frequency and my hair still falls out at an acceptable pace. Really the only thing that changed...I can't hear her breathing in the middle of the night.

So I dusted off some old ideas and started writing again. "The Wooden Box" is my first attempt at fiction in more than thirty years. I have decided to avoid the cumbersome process of publishing on paper and will release "The Wooden Box" in e-format through Amazon's Kindle Direct Publishing. I have enjoyed writing again and hope to have this short story finished before Thanksgiving.

Moving on. This morning I attended a bible study that was focused on Paul's first letter to the Corinthians, specifically 1st Corinthians, chapter 7. If you are not familiar with this passage it is Paul's answer to questions the Corinthians had posed about marriage. Now the Apostle Paul is not one to sugar coat his words and this chapter is evidence of just that. As I read his words this week there were many that hit home; "A wife must not separate from her husband. But if she does, she must remain unmarried or else be reconciled to her husband. And a husband must not divorce his wife.". "Are you married? Do not seek a divorce."

I admire the writings of Paul. I have great respect for his insights and his understanding of God's plan. His radical conversion from Saul to Paul gives hope for all. But, I don't think Paul should be giving marital advice! He probably was not married and therefore has never experienced the darker side of a woman. He never felt the pain of separation. He never anguished over the whereabouts of a missing spouse. He never knew what it was like to experience the relief of knowing a bad relationship had finally ended.

I am baring to you my feeling prior to this mornings class.

Through the grace of God I was not the teacher this morning, I was a student that was humbled by a teacher that had a clearer understanding of Paul's instructions than I. She shared with the class that Paul's instructions came from a place of pure love. Paul feared for the lives of Jews and those that followed the new Way. His guidance was to warn and prepare. Warnings that life here is temporary, the things we hold dearly to, including relationships will all one day end. Preparation to let go.

When Christ returns for His church we may be standing there holding the hand of someone that does not believe. We will have to let go for Christ wont tarry. It will hurt to do so, it will hurt to say good-bye.

If the one who holds your hand today doesn't know Christ, introduce her or him to Jesus.

Avoid the hurt.

Thanks teacher for a great lesson.

Random Thoughts

Hold My Hand

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