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Marriage that Lasts a Lifetime
Forty years ago I married my best friend. We’ve had our ups and downs, our times of miscommunication, hardships and joys, and the blessing of raising four children together. A few years ago, one of my students expressed astonishment at how many years I’d been married to the same person and asked how was that possible. My response was “if you pick the right one, it’s easy.”
Over the past two decades I’ve seen Christian young people make horrible mistakes in choosing life partners that ended in heartbreak, divorce, and shattered lives. Most of those mistakes could be easily avoided with some generational wisdom. What I will say in this blog may be perceived as old-fashioned, conservative, or naïve; however, the principles work and anyone who wishes to know the secret to a good and long-lasting marriage can benefit.
Most folks go looking for love in all the wrong places as the old song says. Instead of creating solid, strong friendships with like-minded people of faith from which to find a life partner, Christians buy in to worldly ideas of looking at parties, bars, other get together locales and trusting to looks and sex appeal as the basis for a marriage. I taught our children to look for friends that reflected their own faith and beliefs and check the character first. After all, looks and sex appeal fade over the years, but character is more than bone deep. Setting up your standards before you ask someone is vital and you need to know what your standards and convictions are and where the lines are you won’t cross. If you haven’t pre-determined that, biology can cause you to cross lines and make decisions you normally wouldn’t make.
A strong marriage begins with a meeting of minds and spirit, a shared conviction of what both parties want out of life and a willingness to travel the same path. A strong marriage begins with a choice to love, honour, and respect each other. Emotions are a part but aren’t the basis for a great marriage. Time should be spent early on talking about the important issues of life, not just finding out how great a kisser someone is.
One benefit from taking the time to get to know someone’s personality and character is you aren’t tempted to fall into bed with each other before marriage. I hate that many Christians seem to have accepted the idea that sex before marriage is okay and you should try out potential mates before marriage. No wonder marriages are falling apart. The whole modern basis for marriage is based upon something temporary and fleeting. There are too many variables that can remove sex from a marriage and what happens to the marriage if that’s all the marriage is based upon? Waiting until marriage to consummate it, has so many additional benefits and blessings that would require a separate blog to cover. Let me sum it up for my Christian readers: you won’t create the best kind of marriage if you use non-Christian methods. Christ had a reason for telling us to stay pure until marriage and neither culture nor time has changed that.
On a more practical note, a strong marriage requires sacrifice, another term along with moral purity that is not in current favour. Marriage does require a willingness to set aside one’s own wants and desires for the other’s. I may enjoy fishing, but if my spouse doesn’t, I’m risking fracturing my marriage to insist on my right to go fishing. Of course, that’s a simple example. No matter how well you know each other, when you marry, you’re marrying a stranger. On our honeymoon, my husband discovered I liked cold spaghetti sandwiches. A delicacy I happily gave up in favour of growing closer to my spouse. Many folks would insist that I continue to eat those sandwiches, but really, when you genuinely love someone you don’t mind adjusting the small things to grow deeper things. Too much focus on my individual rights or needs or wants shifts the focus from what’s good for the marriage to what’s good for me and is the beginning of a self-centered fracture.
Along with considering the other person first is the ability to deal with the little annoyances and irritations that are part of any relationship but become magnified in a marriage. “Love covers a multitude of sins” is the most practical tool in a marriage toolkit. For a Christian, the ability to take my complaints and irritation to the Lord instead of browbeating my spouse is a powerful tool for any marriage. Each time I deliberately choose to “cover” an “irritation” with love and take it to the Lord instead of yelling at my spouse, I allow for healing and refreshing of my marriage and allow the Lord to work in my spouse’s heart for change. If I am more concerned about changing myself and not my spouse, the Lord has the freedom to change his heart, as well.
My heart breaks for so many Christian couples that started their marriage on the wrong foot and don’t know how to fix what’s broken, or those who have given up on their troubled marriage because it’s become easier to dissolve the marriage than work to repair a broken relationship. Today’s focus on my needs and desires over the needs of my spouse have done more harm to Christian marriage than any other deception of the Enemy. There will be folks who are offended by this blog or try to twist my words in light of their own bad experiences or offer exceptions based on specific issues I never covered, yet it doesn’t change the fact that marriages can be strong, beautiful and blessed of the Lord once we choose to live our lives based on biblical principles and not human philosophies or fad concepts. Marriage isn’t about finding happiness for yourself. It’s about building a testimony and a joyful existence as a couple, not individuals. That’s why Christ called it “one flesh.” When I am concerned about bringing the best out in my spouse, I’m actually benefiting myself. Sacrificial love requires maturity, and perhaps that’s the crux of so many marital issues—a lack of maturity. We are a society that craves instant success, instant pleasure, instant fixes. Having to work to have a great marriage doesn’t seem to be in our vocabulary, but for those willing to make the effort, marriage can last a lifetime. Here’s to the next 40 years.
Open Letter to New Writers
Being a writer isn’t the easiest thing in the world. There are other professions, careers, jobs where it is easier to define success. In a way, writing is like being a preacher…when with others of the same profession we tend to limit our success in terms of numbers: numbers of baptisms, numbers of books sold, as if numbers truly define what is at the heart of both professions—changing lives.
I’ve been a writer as long as I can remember, from the very earliest scribbles in elementary school to the more elaborate pieces of awful prose in junior high. It took me a while to find my niche, to find a series I’m comfortable with, that I enjoy writing, that’s uniquely me and not a knock off of something else. Judging my merit as a writer solely on how many books I’ve sold doesn’t cut it for me. Approaching success as a writer has to go beyond the cookie cutter approach.
In addition to the constant talk of book sales numbers, there is another tendency among writers on social media that distresses me: the persistent insistence on minutiae as an earmark of a good writer. I will be the first to tell you that you need to proofread and proofread and proofread again. Even the best writers miss things that glare like a searchlight for readers (and that was in the days of only printed material where once it was published, you didn’t get a do-over). Attention to grammar and spelling is a must, simply because you don’t want to jar the reader out of the story world with carelessness on your part. However, some of the things that keep cropping up on social media grieves me as it’s just another “gatekeeper” to keep new or young writers from entering the fray. Tools, meant to be guidelines, are used as absolutes and guidelines are treated as a smorgasbord of tools that can be picked or not as the writer chooses.
Let me give you an example: Omniscient third person and limited third person. Some of the great pieces of literature were written in omniscent third person and while current publishers don’t like it, there really isn’t anything wrong with it if that is what your story needs. The pendulum has swung far with new writers taking the limited third person to mean a different character in every chapter. These multiple POVs are as confusing as the argument that omniscient POV is confusing because the author jumps from character to character on the same page…same argument, just different packaging. If you can keep up with multiple POVs, you can keep up with omniscient. Still, I can follow omniscient easier than trying to stay interested in multiple POVs that change with each chapter. Personally, I want to be invested in one or two characters, not a dozen. Sometimes omniscient works best with multiple characters. Think Lord of the Rings. Basic rule, pick a POV and stick with what works best for your story.
The newest trend is to write in first person and/or present tense, so I’m going to address both simultaneously: don’t. It takes an experienced writer to attempt first person, and few can do it well. (Robert Heinlein and H. Beam Piper are two good classic examples. Karina Fabian’s Dragon P.I. series is a modern example. See Murder Most Picante). If I see a book written in first person, I usually avoid reading it. It’s just not worth the wincing as “I drag a French fry through the ketchup.” There is a reason most of the classic authors wrote in past tense and new writers would be well advised to avoid present tense; however, if that’s your thing, please be aware of a couple of rules of thumb that could save you countless hours of heartbreak with readers. You don’t have to detail every little thing the character does. Example: if your character needs to answer the phone, just answer the phone. Don’t give the excruciating detail of walking across the carpet, picking up the phone, touching the call button and raising the phone to your ear, then answering the call. Ask yourself why. Why am I using present tense? If you are a storyteller, use present tense to tell your kids bedtime stories. If you’re a writer, use past tense because the story has already happened. You are recording it for others to enjoy. Past tense doesn’t require as much sentence manipulation and there’s less anger when the MC dies at the end of a present tense story. There’s also less chance you’ll switch tenses mid-stream.
Last, but not least is the topic of using said, tags, synonyms, and adverbs. Honestly, I can’t believe how many well-intentioned people want to cut useful tools from the English language. Folks, there’s a reason why English has so many beautiful synonyms for “said”. For example (and if you can’t hear the difference as a reader, you haven’t read enough books).
“Leave it there,” he said.
“Leave it there,” he growled.
“Leave it there,” he whimpered.
“Leave it there,” he screamed.
If your mind didn’t immediately go to four different scenes, well, I feel sorry for you. English is rich with synonyms that help set stage, mood, emotion, context, and the list goes on. Don’t limit yourself simply because some know-it-all told you not to use them. Doing so is a knee jerk reaction like the present idiocy that requires everyone to say “my friend and I” even if it’s wrong. *(See end of blog for explanation) Do remember synonyms are like salt and should be used sparingly. Tags are good (writing dialogue without using “said” or one of its synonyms), but shouldn’t be the only tool in your toolkit. Mix it up.
Adverbs are another lovely tool that often gets trashed without thinking. Adverbs can be overused and used as a crutch to tell instead of show; however, sometimes a simple adverb can do the work of paragraphs of useless explanation. As a journalist, I learned long ago that simple is better. Sometimes writers get so caught up in trying to show that they write a convoluted paragraph to explain what could have been said better with a single adverb. Here’s a simple example:
“Don’t touch that,” he said, angrily, as she reached for the rusted lever.
“Don’t touch that.” His voice rose, nearly to a shout, as she reached for the rusted lever; the decibels of his tone rattled the windowpanes and made her cringe in her seat.
Ok, while the description is good and might even have a place depending on the circumstances, with a bit of context you’ll see the adverb serves a purpose. If this is merely one line of dialogue, then the description works wonderfully. However, if this is part of a larger dialogue paragraph or a running action scene where the action is more important, the reader doesn’t want to be jarred out of the scene by needless description. Use the adverb and move on. Save the lengthy description for what’s more important.
Be flexible. Be bold. Be adventurous. There’s more than one way to write; you just need to find your voice. Who knows? If you tell a compelling story, you might set a new style for writing.
*Use “I” before a verb and “me” after verbs. My friend and I are going to the theater. Give my friend and me a chance to show what we can do. Too often teachers and parents auto corrected children and students without proper instruction and a whole generation uses “my friend and I” when they should be saying “my friend and me.”
Why Mars?
If you’ve read any of my recent novels, you know I love setting stories on Mars. What you may not know is this has been a lifelong love affair with the Red Planet. I grew up on Ray Bradbury’s “Dark They Were and Golden-Eyed”, Heinlein’s “Red Planet”, Tom Corbet’s and John Carter’s Mars adventures. For an introverted smart girl in the 70s with a strong interest in science, Mars became a refuge, a place I could belong when I didn’t fit in with the rest of the world. I could pick out the Red Planet in the night sky and dreamt of one day stepping foot there.
Of course, with all the hoopla and Musk’s push for colonization, it’s no wonder Mars is in the forefront of everyone’s mind and Amazon is rife with Mars stories. Unfortunately, they all have one thing in common: how hard (read, impossible) it is to survive on Mars. I do get it and I understand the challenge does make for tension and a good plot. The stories I grew up on, however, understood the difficulties (no one would mistake Burrough’s Barsoom as anything but harsh), yet somehow managed to infuse a sense of wonder, of accomplishment, of hope into the stories. The difficult terrain was a backdrop, a subplot at times, but not the main focus. The true challenge, the true tension was in man against man or man against himself and were much better stories in my opinion than the natural disaster-everyone dies kind of stories.
So why Mars?
All my life I’ve heard “write what you know.” What I know is ordinary; it just doesn’t seem exciting and I’m a lazy writer. I like doing research, but just enough to lend authenticity to a story not fact checking every single detail only to have a story torpedoed because the store went bankrupt, or the president changed, or science modified their viewpoints. Readers can be cruel about inconsistencies, especially in social media (not to mention their tendency to ‘markup’ digital copies by pointing out what they consider flaws). Setting stories in real places is dangerous. Even if I make up a town based on one I know, it feels forced. And if anyone from that town reads the book, they instantly compare what the book says about what they know about the town.
Science fiction allows me the freedom to create believable, plausible worlds and writing stories set on Mars satisfies a deep longing. Plus, I can take the rural values I’m familiar with, set them in a strange environment and voila have instant tension. I’ve done lots of traveling during my life and people are the same no matter where they live. Cultures vary but people face the same circumstances, trials, joys, needs regardless of ethnicity. How they react will vary more by individual than culture, though, and that’s what makes a great story. If I set a story in space, I get to mix cultures without someone instantly reacting “they wouldn’t be that way.” Maybe not on Earth in your hometown, but they could on Mars. It adds an entirely new dynamic to the story, while also giving me the freedom to include language, customs, and ideas not found in rural America.
Setting stories on Mars give me the ability to not limit myself to a genre. I can’t write westerns or romances, so I opt for writing a western romance on Mars. A Japanese space western, if you will. Alongside of all the Mars stories, I grew up watching Japanese cartoons (predominantly the Americanized versions of Gatchaman,) Then along came the Internet and I was hooked on anime. I try to reflect the same feelings of challenge and hope found in my favorite series.
I guess you could say writing stories on Mars allows me to break the bonds of culture, social expectations, and genre limitations to be the person I always wanted to be as a teenager, but wasn’t brave enough to become until an adult.
It’s such a niche market, you say. So? I like the worlds I create, the stories I tell and if only one reader finds joy between the pages of a book I wrote, I’m content. Buckle up, take a ride, and enjoy the journey. See you on Mars!
New Year’s Reflections
I originally debated whether to call this blog “queen of Tetris” or “this old house;” upon reflection I realized the topic would cover more than the other two titles and I was in a reflective mood.
We spent Christmas day packing up the last of our belongings to make the final move to our new home. As someone who’s spent the majority of my life on the move (I once moved 12 times in 11 years), I’ve gotten really good at the packing thing. I’ve joked about getting a “Queen of Tetris” t-shirt for my ability to cram as much into as little space as possible. For such a gypsy, having spent the last 21 years in the same place is unexpected to say the least. We’ve put a lot of memories in this old place, raised four wonderful children and entertained three grandchildren here. We have lifelong friends who are family and will be missed. Looking back, there are several things I will take with me from Tetris and “This Old House.”
Life is unexpected. You never know what pieces or shapes (circumstances) will drop into your life. The colours are varied and sometimes you might struggle with seeing how they fit. You might need to turn your expectations upside down or sideways. As the colours fill your screen, you may feel overwhelmed or frustrated or even feel like giving up. But if you keep plugging away, sooner or later, everything drops into place and the screen clears and you can move on to the next level. Things that once were difficult become easier and the experience you gain helps with future levels. Those baffling, difficult, frustrating circumstances become touchstones of success, encouraging us to try again, giving us confidence that yes, we can do this. We can face the next overwhelming experience because we know we have done so in the past. Moving gave us new friends, new situations, new foods, new cultures, new ways of doing things. Life lived overseas was a Tetris puzzle of the most difficult kind, but left us with treasured friendships, vocabulary and phrases that are part and parcel of who we are now, and cravings for foods that spark fond remembrances of good times.
Life is also for cramming every moment with joy, experiences, and memories. As I put the last few items into cardboard boxes, each items recalls a happy memory, a treasured tradition, a nostalgic feeling for family and friends no longer here. This has been a house of peace, with many happy times and very few sorrowful ones. I will take these memories with me and build on them. Once during our sojourn overseas, my little son was sad because he had to say goodbye to yet another friend. I told him, “You aren’t giving away a piece of your heart when he leaves. You are expanding your heart to take him with you and make room for another new friend.” That is what I’m doing today. As I say goodbye to this old house, this wonderful community and the friends who have become family, I’m not leaving them behind. I’m expanding my heart to make room for new experiences and new friends.
It’s fitting that our life in our new home comes at the start of a new year. While everyone else is making resolutions they have no intention of keeping, I choose to reflect on the past years, the lessons learned, the intangible gifts received, and I realize how blessed I am to have been a part of this life here. My life is crammed with memories of good times, wonderful adventures, joyful friendships, a million little things that wouldn’t spell “success” by any worldly standard, but is a sweet-smelling fragrance every time I open the box of memories.
Life is for living. Seize each moment and make this time count. Fill your life with the intangible things of the heart that money or fame can’t buy and success can’t replace. Try something new and unexpected this year. Go somewhere simple and breathe in the joy. Sit and listen to someone’s story, read a book to a child, let your inner artist out and paint a picture for yourself. Call or write an old friend and reconnect. Fill your life with Kodak moments. Rejoice in the simple. Go stargazing or take a long walk. Bake cookies and share them with a neighbor. Finally, get to know Jesus Christ and let Him fill your heart with peace. He has come to give you joy—overwhelming, overflowing, eternally welling up in you, joy.
Make this year count.
Turtles in a Bucket
Many, many years ago when our children were very small and we were living in another country, we had a sea turtle experience. Some friends brought two tiny turtles in a bucket back to our camp for all the children to see. Whichever species of turtle these were, they were late bloomers, emerging from the shell long after all their fellows had already disembarked for the wide ocean. After everyone tired of looking at the turtles, our family took them back to the ocean to release and had the pleasure of watching them finally learn to surf the waves and head out on their own adventure.
We learned a lot about turtles and life that day (some for another blog), but the part I want to focus on today is the time those turtles were in the bucket.
Turtles are not meant to live in a bucket. They scrambled and push and shove and try desperately to climb the smooth sides only to fall back into the pit. They waste precious energy repeating the same useless strategies and efforts and wind up nowhere. We took the lesson and adapted it to our family. Whenever the children were fussing and arguing, all I had to say was “turtles in a bucket” and it reminded them of the futility of their fighting. All the yelling, arguing, and posturing got them nowhere. It inflamed the situation, sapped their energy for doing more productive things, got them all hot and bothered and never, ever, ever resolved any of the situations. They just kept going round and round in circles like those poor turtles.
Social media and political correctness have trapped us in a bucket of misguided ‘expectations’ much like being turtles in a bucket. Instead of thinking, we react. Instead of looking for real solutions, we scream and holler. Instead of doing something that will actually mitigate or change reality, we protest, wave banners, and unfollow on Facebook or Twitter. It’s the same mentality behind dumping water on people in the name of a charity instead of donating money to that charity. Or wearing a certain colour shirt. Yes, it may raise “awareness,” but it doesn’t really help the person, now does it?
But maybe that’s the whole point. We don’t really want to change anything; we just want others to think we care. We are afraid of not fitting in, of not following the crowd, even if the crowd is just a bunch of turtles in a bucket. We add our voices to the cacophony, but refuse to lift a finger or really take a stand.
Change begins with me—not on social media, not in the press, not in the mob. It begins with me looking each person in the eye and really seeing them as an individual, with respect and dignity. It begins with me finding ways that will feed and clothe people and give them clean water, without calling attention to myself. It begins with me giving of myself, my time, my resources, and my reputation. It begins with me standing beside those who cannot stand for themselves. It begins with me teaching my children and grandchildren the values of respect and dignity for others.
Until we start with ourselves, there will be no lasting changes and all our outcry is just turtles in a bucket. As 2022 approaches, please give serious consideration to making a real difference and using your voice, your actions, your money where it can do the most good—changing lives in the community around you. Like ripples on a pond, those actions will spread outward to affect others. Instead of being clanging cymbals, try being a soft whisper that breaks through the noise.
Don’t be a turtle in a bucket—learn to surf the waves and take the adventure head on.
Requiem for a Friend
(Editor’s note: After publishing this article, my husband managed to find Ginny’s obit. The link is here: https://www.perrytonherald.com/obituaries/virginia-sue-duke and you will note some of the details in my tribute are wrong; however, the sentiment for a dear friend remains the same.)
When my father passed away several years ago, I thought it rather sad that the essence of a man’s life could be distilled down to a single cardboard box. All the hopes, dreams, ambitions, accomplishments whittled down to bits and snippets of remembrances left behind in keepsakes and memories; yet the true individual is no longer present.
As a Christian I believe there is life after death and the spirit does not die, but is eternal. One’s destination is determined by one’s acceptance of Christ as Saviour, so while I grieve for the loss of a loved one, it is sorrow filled with hope.
Recently, I discovered an unexpected well of sorrow—that of a friend with no obituary. I know my dear friend has passed away, but there is no written record of her life left behind. I don’t know if this was part of her wishes, or the family, or just that no one had enough information to write an obit. I know when writing my dad’s there was a lot of information about the family I didn’t know and being on my own, a great deal of disinformation made its way into his obit, even though I tried to share his personality and dreams. In my friend’s case, there is no way to know why nothing seems to remain of her life except in the memories of her family and friends; therefore, I decided to write my memories of Ginny.
Born Virginia S Duke in Big Cabin, Oklahoma, Ginny was several years older than me. Her mother Pauline Duke was my high school English teacher and the teacher who gave me my foundational motto for writing (A writer’s job is to write). I didn’t really get to know Ginny until I started writing for the local paper. As editor, Ginny gave me the opportunity my junior and senior year to write short articles about school academics for the local paper. After graduation, she hired me on as a freelance writer. She taught me much that aided me during my college years, allowing me to return during the holidays and help out, even if it was just volunteering to stuff ad inserts in the paper.
Writing was Ginny’s passion. We were both members of the Craig County Writers Club and loved sharing our stories and bouncing ideas off each other. She had one immense saga with vivid characters that I loved, along with an Arthurian type “modern” story involving a smart mouthed kid and a world-weary wizard. I’ve often wondered what ever became of those stories as Ginny seemed to have more fun and interest in creating her worlds and characters than actually finishing or publishing either.
Midway through my college years, she left the paper and returned to college herself, in a town near mine. One weekend we decided to have a writer’s get-away, and she picked me up for the weekend at her apartment to write. We decided to collaborate on a novel and had a blast creating the story world and the characters and spent several months writing pieces of the story and mailing it back and forth.
This was in the days before internet and email, so everything was typed on paper and mailed. Whoever’s turn it was would continue the story and ship the whole thing back. Back and forth Raklin went and we worked so well together to this day I can’t tell where she left off and I began or vice versa.
Unfortunately, life has a way of getting in the way of the important things and while we drifted apart, we didn’t lose touch until the last couple of decades. Even then whether it was a telephone call or email, we picked up where we left off. Two writers in search of adventure.
I know during the intervening years she worked for various computer science type companies in various places and was involved in coding projects, before returning to the family farm in Amarillo to care for her mother. Ginny was smart, independent, never one to follow the crowd, confident and comfortable in her own skin. She had her family and friends, her work and her writing and love of books. These were things we shared in common. Everything else was subject to change, as a famous lady author once wrote.
She was there for the major events of my life, even if I couldn’t be there for hers. I wouldn’t say she was a role model or a hero, but she did heavily influence my style in college, encouraged my hopes and dreams of writing, and I owe her a debt of gratitude and friendship.
I did have the privilege of speaking with her less than a week before she passed away. (The doctors had only given her a couple of weeks in late September, so the only way I know she’s gone is her cell phone goes straight to voice mail. I guess it will until the battery finally dies or someone terminates the phone account.) She was in good spirits, content with her life, no regrets, and interested in what I’d been doing. That was Ginny—always interested in the story, in what was going on in others’ lives and quiet about her own. She was a genuinely modest person—no humbug about her. She was also devastatingly honest. If you didn’t want to hear her opinion, you’d better not ask because she wasn’t afraid to tell you the truth. She wasn’t afraid of what others thought or what public opinion dictated. I think her parents had done a good job raising her to think her own thoughts, believe in herself and stand up for what she believed in. Something rare in today’s politically correct forums. Her straightforwardness is something I found refreshing and admirable.
Our call wasn’t long, perhaps half an hour before she tired and needed to go, but I will never forget her parting words: “I love you.”
God bless you, my friend. Rest well. While Merlyn and company and your saga may remain unfinished, Raklin lives complete and is dedicated to you, so a tiny bit of you will continue to live forever. See you on the other side.
Raklin: Secret of the Crystal Key
Celestial Dance
Dust motes dancing in a beam of refracted light
Flaring briefly into existence
Winking out an eye blink later
Swirling specks of brilliance
Eternally on the move
Suspended in a mote of time
Each a separate life
Some swift, some languid
Distant specks of soft crystal radiance
Caught in a gentle updraft
Fireflies suspended in mid dance
Miniature meteors flaming bright, momentary diamonds, sapphires, emeralds and rubies
Lingering only in memory
Tiny fragments of light all too soon dimmed beyond sight
Bright stars outshining their brethren, fading before thought defines their existence
The angle of the light shifts and the dance vanishes
As a solitary speck takes a final bow
Thankful
It’s been 21 years since we returned from our sojourn overseas, and with Thanksgiving right around the corner, I decided to reflect on the many blessings we enjoy here in America. In spite of the current political climate that would have everyone believing 1) America is all bad and only whites are privileged or 2) a person should be ashamed for being blessed and having what others lack, there is a third alternative: to be grateful.Gratitude is the keystone to being generous and kind. When a person realizes how richly he is blessed and is grateful for what he has (no matter how much or how little), that person is free to share and share generously with others. Being ashamed of what you’ve been freely given or earned through hard work is akin to squandering a precious gift, literally throwing it on the ground and stomping on it. I’m reminded of a story from the Bible. King David was on a long, hard campaign. The army had been gone long enough for even the king to be homesick. In such a moment, he expressed a desire for a drink of water from his home well. Two of his men risked their lives going through enemy lines to retrieve a pitcher of water for their beloved king. Upon receiving the water, instead of accepting it with a grateful heart for the love his men demonstrated for him, in his own pride, shame and arrogance David poured out the water on the ground. I can only imagine how those soldiers felt seeing the waste and have often wondered if the very act caused them to lose faith and trust in their king.
Such a simple act of kindness and blessing—a glass of water. Yet how often do we allow our own shame, guilt, pride, or political climate to affect our own sense of gratitude or lack thereof?
This Thanksgiving season, I’d like to remind all of us of the many blessings we share regardless of socio-economic status.
We should be thankful for:
- Electricity. We take for granted the simple act of flipping a switch and having light illuminate our world, run our devices, protect from the darkness. If you have access to electricity, you are more blessed than 1.2 billion people worldwide who lack basic electric power. (1)
- Clean tap water. Granted some of our city water doesn’t always taste the best compared to rural well water, but it is nothing short of miraculous to turn an indoor faucet and have running water to drink, cook, clean or bath with. If you have access to indoor plumbing, you are blessed more than the 2.2 billion people worldwide who lack safe drinking sources, 4.2 billion who lack sanitation services and 3 billion who lack basic water for washing. (2)
- Freedom. While social media is making it more difficult to express one’s opinion or disagree publicly with popular philosophies or government in America, we are still guaranteed freedom of speech, freedom of religion and equal access to education, work opportunities and respect. If you enjoy the ability to work, create, or learn, you are blessed more than a third of the world population who live in countries without basic human rights. (3)
Sometimes we want to make life more complicated than it should be. We demand more than what we need. We take for granted the very things that are priceless and that we cannot attain through our own efforts. Instead of comparing ourselves with others this Thanksgiving season, take a moment to look around at your life, your family, your home, your friends and count your many blessings. Be thankful and allow that thankfulness to motivate you to share or make a difference in someone else’s life.
https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2021/03/freedom-house-freedom-in-the-world.html ( having trouble entering the hyper link in WordPress. just copy and paste the link in your browser to find the article for the following statement.)
“2020 stands out as a particularly bad year, with 73 countries experiencing declines in freedom compared with only 28 seeing gains. It represents the worst decline since this downward trend began.”
As Natural As Breathing
One of the recurrent things I see on Twitter for writers is the question, “If you never sold a book, would you still write?’ There is also the age-old debate of the difference between a writer and an author.
Regardless of where you stand on the debate, here’s my definition, per my high school English teacher’s definition: A writer’s job is to write.
Since I was in first grade, I’ve been telling stories. Whether it was a class assignment or merely scribbling down a short story about a wonder horse, I’ve been writing. Of course, the stuff written in junior high and high school aren’t worth the paper it was written on, and I think I’ve dumped all of it over the years as badly written pieces of prose; however, it was good practice in putting ideas down on paper.
I love the smell of ink on paper, having blue stained fingers and marks on my clothes that just won’t come out, but I also love the convenience of computers in saving hours of editing time and stress of trying to decipher days later what I’d written. I love creating worlds and characters and seeing how they react in a given situation. But more than that, I love creating a story world that reflects the best in humanity. My view of writing is best summed up by the quote by Samwise Gamgee when he reminds Frodo of the reason they’re going to Mordor: hope.
“It’s like the great stories, Mr. Frodo, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn’t want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad has happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing this shadow, even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines, it’ll shine out the clearer. I know now folks in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going because they were holding on to something. That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.” Return of the King, Tolkien.
Writers create worlds that stick with us; long after both the book and author have faded from memory, the message of the story still resonates within us, encouraging us, strengthening us, motivating us to keep striving.
For me, writing is as natural as breathing. I have to do it. If I stop, something within me withers. While I’d love to have a thousand readers eagerly awaiting the next novel, it doesn’t discourage me not to have sales. The sales are icing on the cake, but the writing is what counts. Even if it’s just one reader that draws comfort, entertainment, or encouragement that is a blessing beyond price. However, that’s not why I write.
I write because the stories live in my head. These characters and their situations are reflections of the principles I believe, my core values, the hope that is unquenchable and unassailable in my own life. It’s a permanent way of sharing something vital that will live on beyond me. Even if they don’t last as long as I hope, for a brief span of time, these people and worlds exist, created out of my hopes, beliefs and dreams.
Writer? Yes, definitely. Author? As long as I live.
Outdated Culture
In a political climate with an alphabet soup of terminology, acronyms, and abbreviations for ideas I’ve never heard before, perhaps the most confusing for me is OC: outdated cultural depiction. Oh, I understand what the words mean, I’m just confused about the way in which they are being used. Apparently only certain programs receive this rating as if the mores and values depicted are somehow obsolete.
Unfortunately, I see the same negative mores, stereotypes, and values portrayed in current television programs. Of course, modern programming takes these things to a whole new level. Bigotry in the Old West is repurposed and applied to a different people group, but it’s still bigotry. Considehring a group of people as second-class citizens or property is dressed up in fancier clothing, but it is still a staple of television dramas or sit coms. And portraying certain individuals as weak, clueless, helpless is still around today only the gender has changed.
Thus, the only reason I can think of for old westerns (just to name a few) receiving OC ratings is because Hollywood must hate decency, kindness, respect for the older generation, looking out for orphans and widows, treating young ladies with courtesy, personal honor, valuing the strength of family and home, and calling out evil doers whether they are politicians or leading citizens.
I watched a lot of westerns during Covid and pretty quickly I discovered westerns weren’t bashful about showing the ugly side of human nature or pointing out the many times white folk mistreated Indians or other nationalities. At the same time, they also portrayed folks of character (including white folk), who stood with the mistreated and abused, often at the risk of their own lives.
Unfortunately, Hollywood and mainstream media today really don’t want folks to believe that version of history because it flies in the face of their revised history (fodder for a future blog). Nor do they want people to consider family values and morality as a possible way of life. Yet recorded history is filled tales of moral people accomplishing extraordinary things to stand on the side of right and justice. Our nation’s past wasn’t all good, but it wasn’t all bad either. Many of the “heroes” of bygone years paid for their integrity with their lives, their goods, or their livelihoods. Many of those stories weren’t recorded, just passed down by word of mouth within families. Some were recorded in newspaper articles, old historical texts, letters, diaries, etc.
However, our modern-day experiences have left us jaded and cynical, and we often find it difficult to believe such tales, passing them off as exaggeration or flights of fantasy. Somehow it is far easier to think poorly of someone than to think well of that person, especially if the political climate is against them. We lump folks in all or nothing categories, much like folks did back in the Old West. The categories remain the same, only the groups of people have changed.
Influenced by a steady diet of entertainment, fantasy, and make-believe, it’s perhaps easier to understand why we doubt the “facts.” After all nobody is like that today, everyone has an angle, such people are too good to be true, so probably aren’t. As a culture we are so distrustful we are compelled to find flaws in all our heroes.
Unless of course, the person is a villain, then all bets are off. We make excuses, we shift blame, we rationalize and end up glorifying someone for heinous and reprehensible actions and vilify the person calling a spade a spade.
One hundred years from now someone is going to look back on our old OC shows and today’s version of entertainment and laugh hysterically. One, at how OC today’s entertainment will be perceived and two, how relevant those old shows are.
On second thought, maybe future generations will mourn that today’s culture let such steadfast and productive values slip through our fingers.
Through Alien Eyes 