Fiction Friday

I will be unable to post a short story today.  I apologize to those of you who look forward to it.  I will try to make it up to you.  It has been a busy week with very little time to write.  Thank you for understanding.

Lonely Hearts

Please check out my review of Lonely Hearts by Amanda Stephan.  The book will be released at the end of October and when it does, let your fingers do the walking and order this heart stopper ASAP.

Blog? Me?

When I suggest that someone start blogging, I am asked "Why would I blog?  What would I say?"  Well as to why, writing is communication and communication is essential to a healthy mind.  Writing is also a stress release.  At first you may not be able to think of anything to say, but it will surprise you at how you begin to look at things in the world.  If you read something in the newspaper or see it on the news and it makes you mad, you can blog about it.  You get to tell the whole world how you feel and no one can interrupt you.  If you have a story, blog.  Again you get to 'talk' and no one can interrupt.  They can send you comments, but you can delete those if you want.

What would I say?  There are all kinds of blogs for all kinds of reasons.  My blog is eclectic and covers a wide range of subjects--depending on my mood that day.  It is a great way to witness to others.  It is a teaching tool.  One teacher has a child with a severe disability.  So many people asked her for updates that she started a blog.  Now people all over the world are reading the updates and praying for that child.  What about a prayer chain for your Sunday School class?  How many times I have gone to church only to discover that someone died and was buried during the week and I didn't even know they were sick.  What a fantastic way for teachers to share ideas about teaching.  There are hundreds of reasons to blog and you only need one.

When I sign into my blog, I go straight to the 'stats' page.  I want to know how many people have read it lately.  Then I click on 'audience'.  That tells me which countries the people who read were residing.  I have readers from Africa, Finland, England, Taiwan, and several other countries.  I know no one in these countries, but they are reading what I write.  How cool is that?  Please consider beginning a blog.  It is very rewarding.

“Rosie, get in here and help me.” Her mother yelled. They had been unpacking boxes since the moving truck left about 10:00 this morning.  Rosie was tired and hungry.  Her mother was determined, unappreciative and snappy. 

“Can’t we take a break now?  I’m so tired.  Does all this have to be done today?”

“Yes, it has to be done today.  I start my new job a week from today and I don’t want to come home and do this after working all day.”

“We could do some of it tomorrow.”

“I can’t sleep if my house is out of order.  Now put those towels in the linen closet and make sure the tails aren’t showing.”  Peggy like the towels put away so that when the closet door was opened, the folds were lined up in perfect rows.  She called the selvage edge of the towel ‘the tail’.  Rosie could never understand what difference it made.  No one except her and her mother looked in the linen closet and if they did, who cared how the towels were stacked.  They would still function as drying instruments, wouldn’t they? 

“Fine.  I will put the towel tails facing the back of the closet.  I should probably show people how we stack our towels.  Surely it’s worth a rung up on the social ladder.”  Rosie muttered under her breath.

“Rosie, have you laid out your school clothes yet?” 

“Mom, school doesn’t start for three days.  I have plenty of time.” Rosie answered; entering the room after what she called TTT duty—towel tail tucking.

“Yes, but we are going to register you tomorrow.  It is very important that you look right when you register.  First impressions are important.”

“I don’t think the registrar cares how I look.  Besides, after I’m registered, I’ll never see her again.”

“You don’t know that.  I think you should wear that gingham skirt with your white blouse.  That will make a good impression.”  It was 1968 and girls were still required to wear dresses to school.  “When you get to school, make sure that you don’t get mixed up with the wrong crowd.”

“Mom, have I ever gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd?”

“Well it is my job to make sure that you don’t.  Before you are allowed to go anywhere with a group of kids, I will need to meet them.  I must approve of the company you keep.”

“We have been over this before.  I know you want to meet my friends.  I don’t know why you can’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust you because I was young once.  I know what kids did then and you can’t tell me they don’t do the same thing now.  Let me tell you right now, you had better not sneak out of this house after I have gone to bed.”

“Mom, I have never once sneaked out of this house.  You always know where I am and when I will be back.”

“Well, just in case you think about it, you better think again.  I will find out where you are and come get you.  And you can believe I will make a scene in front of your friends.”

Rosie hung her head and quietly went to her room.  She was a good kid.  Her grades weren’t stellar, but she passed her classes and never caused problems in class.  Throughout her entire elementary days, she had never missed a recess, stood in the corner or in the hall, or been sent to the principal’s office.  In junior high school, she had never been sent to In School Suspension or Detention.  Her mother had never been called to the school for disciplinary reasons.  Rosie was rarely disciplined at home. She did what she was asked and wouldn’t dream of openly defying any authority.  It broke her heart when her mother started threatening her about things she hadn’t even thought about doing.  Sometimes, Rosie thought pleasing her mother was an impossible feat.

After she laid out the outfit that her mother wanted her to wear tomorrow to ‘register’, Rosie organized her closet and dresser drawers.  She wasn’t that much of an organization freak, but with this activity, she could satisfy her mother’s demand to work and avoid her ranting at the same time.

Peggy couldn’t refuse the promotion even with the stipulation relocating when the company offered it.  Being a single parent didn’t give her the luxury of turning down promotions no matter what the condition.  Rosie’s father hadn’t even stayed around long enough to see her birth and certainly hadn’t showed his face since then.  It was all up to Peggy to raise Rosie into a decent adult.  Peggy hadn’t forgiven her husband for leaving her.  She couldn’t even call him her ex-husband because he didn’t bother seeking a divorce.  Although she had long ago become accustomed to the stares and whispers, she was still determined to make the world pay for the injustices dealt her.  She interacted with people, including Rosie, in bulldog fashion—always on guard and ready to attack.

“Rosie, are you hungry?”

“Yes, what’s for dinner?”

“Let’s grab a burger.  I am too tired to cook.”  One advantage of the larger town was a variety of fast food places.  The raise wasn’t sufficient to eat out on a regular basis, but Peggy didn’t have to worry so much about making ends meet. 

The 50s style diner was not as clean as Peggy liked and smelled of old grease.  She and Rosie passed several empty booths because Peggy found something wrong with each.  One bench had a rip in the far corner. That would change the taste of the food.  One table was chipped on the edge.  Mom please, find a table already.  She refused another because a couple of boys sat in the adjacent booth—she didn’t like the way they looked at Rosie.  No different from the way any other man looks at me.  Another table wasn’t acceptable because it was still wet after being cleaned. 

“Why don’t we sit at the bar?”

“Ladies do not sit at the bar.  Only women looking for a pick up sit on a bar stool.”

“Even at a diner?”

“Don’t argue with me.  We are not sitting on a bar stool.  We will sit in a booth like ladies.”

Finally Peggy decided on a booth that was acceptable.  Good thing.  It’s the last one. Rosie thought as she sat down.  The young waitress headed for their table with menus in hand. 

“What can I get for you today?”

“Rosie, what do you want?”

“I want a cola and small burger with fries, please.”

“And for you ma’am.  What would you like?”

“I will take the same, but I require a straw with my drink.” 

Rosie hated it when her mother talked to people that way.  She couldn’t say, ‘may I have a straw, please’.  She had to demand everything.  The quick look of disdain on the waitress didn’t get past Rosie.  By the time her mother looked up, the waitress had composed herself so that her thoughts weren’t obvious.  Rosie knew it would be pointless to try to discuss the matter with her mother.  Peggy never thought she was wrong and certainly wouldn’t admit it to Rosie.  She believed that parents were never wrong and should accept nothing less than 100% respect from their child. 

The burgers were fair, the French fries cold and the colas warm.  Peggy left a small tip and then complained to the management.  Rosie had the pleasure of hearing the encore performance on the way home.  Arriving at the house, Rosie feigned exhaustion and went to her room for the rest of the night.  She was tired—of her mother.  Peggy could talk more and say less than anyone else Rosie knew.  Sometimes when Rosie was tired, she thought she would scream if she heard another human word.

The next day was hot and humid.  However, Rosie dressed to please her mother, including hose and small heels to attend the production of ‘registration’.  That was the way Rosie saw it.  Nothing was simple with her mother.  Everything was a production and this day looked like a stellar performance.  Peggy gave Rosie a once over to make sure that everything was perfect—Rosie called it ‘inspection’.  They drove to the school as soon as Peggy was satisfied that Rosie was presentable.

The school sat on the hill coming into town.  A large, older building, it looked in need of some major renovation.  The tall concrete steps leading into the main building had some large cracks due to their advanced age.  The interior of the building was dark and somewhat depressing.  The office was in the main hallway between the counselor’s and nurse’s offices.  Peggy and Rosie were greeted pleasantly when they entered. 

“I need to register my daughter for the fall semester, please.”

“Alright, if you will just fill out these papers, we can get started.  Did you bring her records from the old school?”

“Yes, I did.  Here they are.”  Peggy handed Rosie’s report card and attendance record to the registrar.

“Do you have the disciplinary records?”

“No, they were not given to me.  I didn’t know they would be needed.”

“Let me call the Assistant Principal.”  She said, picking up the phone.  “Mr. Farienthold, I have a new student registering and the parent didn’t bring the disciplinary records.  Yes sir, I have it right here.”  She proceeded to give the name and phone number of Rosie’s old school to the Assistant Principal over the phone.  Then she hung up the phone and resumed helping Peggy complete the needed paper work.  She typed the information on the electric IBM typewriter.  The little ball that stamped letters on the paper spun so fast Rosie thought it was going to fly out of the machine.  It reminded her of the top she used to spin for hours on the kitchen floor. 

A door on the left side of the registrar’s desk opened and a small man with dark complexion stepped out.  He extended his right hand to Peggy.  “Good morning, I’m Assistant Principal Mike Farienthold.”

Peggy returned the smile and introduced herself.  “This is my daughter, Rosie.  We just moved to town and I wanted to make sure we registered her in time to get her supplies for the first day.”

“We are so glad you moved to our town and Rosie we are looking forward to working with you this year.”

“I’m afraid Rosie is not a very good student.  She does pass her courses, but that is about it.  But I want you to know that you have my full support.  Anytime she is sent to the office, you call me at work and I assure you it won’t be pleasant for her.”

“I’m sure Rosie will have no problems this year.”

“I know how these kids act up in school.  If my daughter is one of them, I will take care of it.”

“I just spoke to the Principal at her old school and he said Rosie never gave them a minute’s trouble.  He said that he wished they had more like her.  He described her as quiet, respectful and polite.”

“He was being kind, I’m sure.  I don’t want you going home at night and worrying about disciplining my daughter.  You will have my support.”

Rosie saw the almost undetectable look exchanged between the Mr. Farienthold and the registrar.

“Why don’t you complete the paperwork while I take Rosie on a tour of the building?  That way she won’t have any problems on the first day.”

“Oh that would be lovely.  Thank you.  Rosie, remember to mind your manners and say thank you.”

Mr. Farienthold and Rosie went next door to the counselor’s office.  “Mrs. Henry, I’d like for you to meet a new student.  This is Rosie Davis and she will need to talk to you about her schedule.”

“Hello, Rosie.  I like for the students to come see me anytime they need to talk.  All the teachers have special passes for students who need to see me.  All you have to do is ask for one.”

“Thank you.  I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Rosie, I brought you to visit with Mrs. Henry because I think you might need to talk to her sometimes.  Being the new student in school isn’t easy.  Why don’t you just remember where her office is located, just in case?”

Rosie assured them that she would remember where the counselor’s office was, but doubted that she would ever go there.  The only problem she had was her mother.  How does one explain her mother? 

My New Book

My first adult novel, Triumph Through Trial,  has been accepted for publication.  It will be out in approximately three months.  For a look at the cover, please go to http://brightonpublishing.com/Authors.html

Christian Birds

Christian birds?  That's stupid.  Birds are incapable of accepting Christ as savior, therefore unable to be called Christian.  I agree.  But let's look at their characteristics  and compare them to some Christians.

Do you know any vulture Christians?  The vulture is a scavenger. These large birds glide on air currents, conserving energy while searching the forests or savanna below for the corpses of dead animals.  Some Christians are vultures.  They glide on air currents, put forth very little effort, but are always at church when something is dead.  They stand by ready to eat any pastor or church member.  These are the church members who never darken the door of the church until they hear that a business has been called to vote on a controversial subject.  Vulture Christians are easy to spot.

Then there are the blue jay Christians.  The blue jay is a familiar and widespread bird throughout the East. Generally loved or hated, it has acquired a Jekyll-and-Hyde reputation. It is a frequent visitor to backyard feeding stations, where its raucous and rambunctious behavior is well known.  These Christians are the best or worst example of Christianity, depending on who you ask.  They will do anything in the world for you or they won't lift a finger.  Pretty to look at, but not dependable.

Don't forget the crow Christians.  The crow never forms flocks; is not found in urban areas and has more extensive vocal repertoire. Crow Christians don't get involved but they can sure squawk when something is not done. 

The hummingbird Christians.  The hummingbird is beautiful, delightful to watch, and an amazing example of energy in motion.  Yet after watching them for a while, you will see that they are mean to each other.  They actually lie in wait for another bird and then attack in mid-air.  We have some hummingbird Christians.  They show up every time, are beautiful, but watch them attack other members.  They are quick and their strike is merciless just like the hummingbird.

Everyone knows about parrot Christians.  Parrots are beautiful.  Their bright colors can bring any room to life. They are entertaining.  They can be taught to say any human word.  Parrot Christians know how to work the room.  The strut around and really get the crowd going.  They can say anything, yet like the parrot, don't know what they are talking about.

Can you think of any more Christian birds?

New Review Posted

Check out my review of Montezuma Intrigue on The Book Mama.  There is a link in the right column.

Sugar Babies

I saw Dr. Phil's show the other day entitled "Sugar Babies".  This is a 'dating' service which is web-based available to men and women.  The service featured was called Sleeping Arrangements whose membership includes 90,000 women and 900,000 men.  They don't call it prostitute because the couple see each other on a regular basis and the men do not pay for sex.  They pay for the company of the women.  They pay on a monthly basis, whether they see the women that month or not.  The men are called "Sugar Daddies". 

The show got a little heated at times, especially when Dr. Phil called it "thinly disguised prostitution".  The arranger was a graduate of MIT and seemed to be intelligent, however shallow.  The women were young, beautiful and mostly college students.  Some said they used the money to pay for college.  The website made money when the men paid their $50 monthly subscription.  The women made money from the Sugar Daddies. 

What appalls me is the number of people enrolled in this one program.  What does this say about the moral fiber of America?  People would rather not be committed to another, pay someone to be with them, and make money off of what they call a relationship.  This shift in thinking cannot be good for America, family, or reputable society.  We are quickly headed toward a non-civilized society.

The Uncelebration Celebration

Rebecca's less than sunny mood had started on Monday and steadily declined with each passing day until by Thursday storm clouds were looming over the entire family. Saturday was their wedding anniversary. They were young with two small children and one large mortgage which seemed more impossible to pay every month. Going out to celebrate their anniversary was so out of the question it hadn't even been discussed. There seemed no end to their financial Titanic. How could they celebrate their anniversary when they were so deep in debt? How could they not celebrate their anniversary?

By Friday, Rebecca was more than tired of feeling like her world was about to end just because they didn't have the money to go out on the town. They had been blessed with a beautiful home that any couple would be proud to own. Alright Rebecca, you can sit here feeling sorry for yourself and miss a celebration or you can create your own celebration. When Josh arrived home, Rebecca met him at the door with a hug and a kiss. "Well this is a change from the last few days." He said smiling.

"I have decided that we are going to celebrate our anniversary tomorrow."
"Now Sweetie, please don't put me in a position that you know I can't do anything about. I know you want to celebrate and so do I, but we are so financially strapped that there is no way we can spare the money."
"Who said anything about needing money? We are going to create our own celebration."
"Do you have a plan and can I be in on it?"
"Yes I have a plan and yes you can be in on it, Silly. Tomorrow we are not putting the kids down for a nap."
"Oh, now that does sound like a celebration. I can hardly wait."
"I know they will be cranky in the afternoon, but by 6:00 tomorrow night, they will be so tired they will beg for their beds and sleep the rest of the night. Leaving us time to celebrate."
"Now this plan is getting better by the minute."
"After they go to bed, we are going to get all dressed up with no place to go but our house. I'll cook a nice dinner which we will eat after the kids go to bed."
"If we eat without the kids, we might get to sit through the entire meal. Is that still legal?"
"And we might not have to clean up a spill during the meal." Rebecca added to the list of amenities.
"Now I wouldn't bet on that. You and my mother both say I can spill something when no one else can."
"Okay, if you spill, I'll clean it up. Just this once though. After dinner, we will sit in front of the fireplace and talk like adults."
"Can we do anything else like adults?"
"We'll see about that." Rebecca laughed.
Saturday morning was met with great anticipation by Rebecca and Josh. Both children felt the excitement and fed off of throughout the day. Neither of them stopped running, climbing, or jumping all day, nor were they encouraged to by either parent. If they even slowed down, Josh got them moving again. They played 'horsey' and 'leap frog' until Rebecca thought Josh was going to tire before the children. In the late afternoon, both children were cranky so Josh moved some of the living room furniture and set up an obstacle course in the room. Each child took his turn at running down the hallway, jumping over the back of the couch, rolling off the seats and under the coffee table and back again. Behavior that was usually taboo was allowed. When Rebecca thought her nerves were going to snap, Josh reminded her of the goal--exhaust the children enough to fall asleep early and sleep through the night.
About 5:30 that afternoon, Josh put both kids in the bathtub while Rebecca made a kid-pleasing meal. When the bath water turned completely cold, Josh drained the bathtub, dried both slippery children and put away all the bath toys. Rebecca led the toddlers into the kitchen where their child-size picnic table from outdoors had been brought in and set with colorful, fun disposable plates. After both tired youngsters had eaten the hot dog and chips, Rebecca led them into their bedrooms. Josh and Rebecca knelt beside each bed and prayed, kissed each drowsy head, and said good night.

Josh headed to the shower in the hall bathroom while Rebecca pampered herself in the master bath. Josh dressed in his best suit. Rebecca slipped into a slinky black dress and added the pearls that Josh had given her as a wedding present--the last extravagant indulgence she had received for herself. Josh walked into the bedroom just as Rebecca was applying perfume to her neck. "Maybe we could just skip dinner? You're not really that hungry, are you?"

"We are going to eat, Mister. Now escort me into the luxurious private dining room. We have special reservations tonight." Rebecca laughed.

An old lace table cloth covered the dining table and gold colored chargers from the craft store displayed the wedding china. Tall taper candles in silver candle holders--another wedding gift, were set in the middle of the table. Josh lit them as Rebecca brought in the serving dishes. The shrimp salad and chilled cucumber soup she had prepared was delicious. That was followed with Angel Food Cake topped with fresh fruit and real whipped cream.

Josh lit a fire in the fireplace and Rebecca made fresh peppermint chocolate coffee. They sat on the sofa with only the fire to light the room, reminisced about their dating days, and Josh told Rebecca about the first time he had seen her. "It was the first day of our senior year. I was pumped about playing varsity football and I came strutting down that hall. There at the end of the hall stood..." Rebecca had heard the story numerous times over the years, but Josh never tired of telling it.

For the first time in a long time, they could concentrate on each other without worrying about small interruptions or watching the clock for fear of being awakened by small feet in the wee hours of the morning. They sat on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms until only embers remained in the fireplace. By the time they both drifted off to sleep, Rebecca knew that she would remember this uncelebration for a long, long time.

Review of Stephen Covey's Book

I have posted a review of The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen Covey on The Bookmama.  I hope you will stop by and read the review.  I highly recommend the book and will be blogging about some of the thoughts in the book in the coming weeks. 

I Did it Again

I know you are not going to believe this, but I have done it again.  I have been doing it for 26 years.  You would think I would have learned my lesson by now.

What did I do?  I fell in love.  I substituted for a teacher who had a death in the family and when I walked into the room, I saw a desk in the back away from all the others.  The teacher showing me where my instructions were said, "That's Donnie's desk.  He cannot sit by the other students."

When Donnie entered the classroom, I walked over to meet him.  The first words out of his mouth told me that he had a speech impairment and was a little slow mentally.  Some time during those two days I fell in love with him.  In my years as an educator, I have always seemed to fall in love with the behaviorally challenged.  Donnie is one the sweetest little boys I have ever known.  Yes, he has some behavior issues.  But when I applied a little love, the sweet child emerged.  With a little extra love, patience, guidance, and structure a behaviorally challenged child will show the child deep within but afraid to come out. 

Do you deal with a child that is behaviorally challenged?  I urge you to take the extra steps to show this child how special he or she is.  It is well worth the extra work.

Sell More Books

Sell More Books

Sell More Books is a guide to do exactly what the title says--help you sell more books.  Don't be fooled though.  It is not the technical, dry, boring language of most how to books.  It is light and fun.  My favorite part of the books was the BS Alerts.  Those come right after Steve and Cherie have told you what the industry wants you to think.  Under the BS Alerts and Snoozer Alerts, they tell you like it is.  Here are a few:

B.S. Alert!

Publishing a book has never been, and will never be, as easy as this story makes it look. In real life Aunt Marie would threaten to sue Harry if he published the material on her drug habit. His brother no longer speaks to him, but won’t tell Harry why. The formatting didn’t work quite right in Microsoft Word and for some unexplainable reason, saving it as a pdf made all the pages too large. CreateSpace informs you that there’s not enough space on your spine, but you don’t know how

to correct it. You end up hiring a professional graphic artist, who’s running two months behind and now won’t reply to your e-mails. What should have cost nothing and taken a total of 6 months ends up taking a year and a half and costing $1000. Publishing may be revolutionized, but it’s still publishing!

Snoozer Alert!

If the above discussion convinces you that all you need to set up is a one page, Danny Kofke

look-alike blog, then the following is overkill – way too much information. If you’re not into
optimizing your site for search engines, feel free to skim or skip. Seriously, it’s okay

Snoozer Alert!

Some authors want motivational stories to renew their zeal to write and sell books. Others need

to know in sufficient detail how to mail their galleys next week. I offer something for both.

The problem with providing essential details to those who need them is that those who don’t

need them will be bored to tears. Tip: When you find yourself slogging through a chapter that

doesn’t scratch where you itch, skim the main subheadings and move on to a more relevant

chapter. Otherwise, you may stop reading altogether and miss the information you desperately

need today.

If you have written a book--you need this book.

Love?

Carolyn was in her 40s when she married Richard. It was the second marriage for both. She dreamed of nothing else except serving him. She loved the amenties that came with him--the country club, higher social class, and a beautiful house. They both enjoyed traveling, boating, and golfing. They pretty much lived party to party.
Through the preaching of the gospel, they both accepted Christ as Savior and gave up the old life style. Church attendance was no longer an option. Richard was ordained as a deacon and both were leaders in the church.
Carolyn thought her life was perfect. She was married to a Christian man who was a leader in the church. One day, her world came crashing down. She learned that Richard had been having an affair. He confessed to her, crying and saying that he had made the worst mistake of his life, and begging her forgiveness. Carolyn was devastated. She spent time in prayer and reading God's word. Then she took a tablet and wrote "I forgive you" seven times for seven days. It took a long time, but her heart was eventually healed and their relationship became stronger because of it.
Carolyn and Richard retired and built their retirement home on a beautiful piece of property. They became active in the community and their new church. Life was good. Carolyn thought that they would grow old together and be able to live the good life they had worked so hard to have.
Almost twenty years after the affair, Carolyn noticed that Richard was showing some of the same behaviors. He began to miss church, stop reading his Bible and began using language he had used before he was saved. He left the house often without an explanation and spent a lot of time on the computer.
"What are you doing?" Carolyn asked walking into the room.
"Nothing." Richard answered as he quickly shut the monitor off.
"Where did you go last night?"
"Just around."
"Richard, what is going on?"
"There's nothing going on. Stop being so suspecious."
"I get suspecious when you act like you are trying to hide something."
"I'm not hiding anything. Leave me alone."
One day over coffee, Carolyn confided in a Christian friend. "I think Richard is having an affair."
"How do you know?"
"He is acting the same way he did when he had the affair right after we got married."
Richard became increasingly mysterious and withdrawn. He no longer even looked at Carolyn, much less talked to her or touched her. Carolyn offered to go to counseling with him. He didn't even bother to answer. Typical lately.
As Carolyn was bring groceries into the house, Richard announced that he wanted a divorce. He had fallen in love with a younger woman and wanted to be with her.
The divorce was quick but painful. Carolyn received a fair settlement, but it did not alieviate her pain. She still loved Richard. Richard did apologize for hurting her, but that wasn't much help. Carolyn wanted her life back. She prayed about it and asked her prayer group to pray for a reunion between her and Richard.
As Carolyn was cleaning house one morning, the phone rang. The caller had to repeat himself several times before Carolyn understood that it was Richard. He was crying and begging to be allowed to come back home. "I made the biggest mistake of my life. I want to come home. I want to get married again."
"I don't know, Richard. Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I don't know why I left. Please let me come home."
"I have been praying for you and I want us to be together again too. But I have to know that this won't happen again."
"It won't. Please let me come home."
"Fine, but we are not getting married yet. I want to make sure this is really want you want."
Richard moved into the spare bedroom and did his best to prove to Carolyn that he belonged at home. The wedding took place a month after he moved back. Finally Carolyn had her life back. Her marriage had survived two affairs and a divorce. Now she rested easy knowing that her husband was back with her.
The marriage lasted less than two months before Richard informed Carolyn that he was leaving. "Why" she asked through her tears.
"I can't get her out of my mind. I am going back to her."
Carolyn cried to her friends, prayed with her pastor, and fellowshipped with her children.
One week later, Carolyn's phone rang. She answered and heard crying on the line. "I want to come home." Richard said.
"What do you mean?"
"I made the biggest mistake of my life. Please let me come home."
READER: What do you think will happen? Drop me a line and finish the story the way you would handle the situation.

You Can't Be Mean to Me

My daughter teaches Kindergarten.  In this school, all Kindergartners report to the gym every morning and wait for the bell to ring.  The teachers rotate duty supervising the students. 

One morning when she had duty, a little boy walked in, looked at the little girl at the front of the line and said, "You can't be mean to me anymore because I went to church yesterday and I prayed.  And Jesus is going to help me not be mad at you."  Then promptly walked to the back of the line.  A few minutes later, my daughter saw the little girl get up, walk to the back of the line and hug him.

If two five year olds can do this, why can't adults?  “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them.  Luke 6:26.

But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked.  Luke 6:35.

The Body of Christ

I received an email this week that caused me to ponder about growth of the body of Christ (church).  The sender said, "Thin skinned Christians hinder growth of the body of Christ."  That caused me to spend some time wondering how many times I had been ultra-sensitive or gotten my feelings hurt over something that the other person meant nothing by.

I recently wrote part of a curriculum to go with a book written by a dear friend.  When I sent him the curriculum, I said "Let me know if there is anything wrong because I wrote it when I had a migraine and it was very hard to think."  When I didn't hear back from him, I wrote and asked if he had received it and did we need to talk about anything.  He wrote back that he hadn't emailed me about the curriculum because he "was holding off because since you wrote it when you had a migraine."  Immediately, my mind translated that into "Your work was inferior because of the migraine."  My blood pressure rose about 20 points.  I wrote and asked him what was wrong with my work.  Being the patient Christian that he is, his return email said, "Hold the press.  Who said your work was inferior?  I was waiting for you to feel better."  Can you say "red face"?  I was extremely embarrassed that I had jumped to a conclusion that he did not mean.

Had he not been such a mature Christian, I could have lost a very good friend because of my thin skin.  Thankfully, he forgave me and we have enjoyed a blossoming relationship since then.  I could give you countless other examples, but I won't.

And blessed is he, whosoever shall not be offended in me. Matthew 11:6.

Do you sometimes have thin skin?  Are you easily offended?  Do you blow things out of proportion?
Have you lost friends because of hurt feelings over trivial matters?  Isn't the cause of Christ more important than your feelings?  Isn't a Christian more valuable than an apology?

When Love Is Not Love

There is an old saying that goes: If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it must be a duck.  Not necessarily.  The picture on the left looks like a duck.  When pulled, it will make a noise like a duck.  Ask any child over 2 years old what it is and he will tell you "A duck."  Is it a duck?

If you ask this little boy what he is doing, he will say, "Riding my horse."  Is he?  He thinks he is.  With his imagination, he can go all over the country and capture many bad guys on that horse. 

You and I can see that it is not a real horse.  And we can see the duck is not a real duck.  Why?  Because we are adults and know the difference in real and make believe?  It seems that some women don't.

They live by the old Sandy Posey song Born a Woman.  The song said, "Stepped on, lied to, cheated on and treated like dirt.  If you're born a woman, you're born to be hurt."  There are women that allow some man to leave them for another woman only to completely forgive and take him back when he cries.  "Hey, everybody makes mistakes."  Your right.  They do.  What about the second or third time he does it?  "But he said he loved me."  Yes he did.  Would she take him back if he said, "By the way, I don't love you, but I need a place to crash for a while because the other woman threw me out"?  Or maybe "I don't love you, but I need your money"?  "Well no.  That would be stupid."  You are right, it would.  He knows that.  So what does he do?  He does what he does best.  He LIES.  Why?  Because it works.  It gets him what he wants.  Her friends try to tell her.  Does she listen?  No.  She stands up for him and proclaims his valor.  Then she tells her friends, "You just don't understand him." 

What does the Bible say about true love?

And Jacob served seven years for Rachel; and they seemed unto him but a few days, for the love he had to her.  Genesis 29:20.   Remember that Jacob had already worked seven years for Rachel.  He was lied to and cheated out of his fair wages.  Yet he agreed to work another seven years for her.

And if the servant shall plainly say, I love my master, my wife, and my children; I will not go out free:Exodus 21:5  This verse says that a man should love his wife and children enough to give up freedom to be with them.

When is love not really love? 

• When it treats you with disrespect. 
• When it puts anything above your feelings.
• When it asks you to give up something you love.
• When it offers false hope.
• When it offers false apologies.
• When it harms someone you love.
 

 

Love Through Justice

Paul and Leslie had spent months looking for the new house. The kids were growing and the old house was way too small for the family. The house was set back behind the others which was just the way Paul liked it. The yard was shady and large enough for the kids to run around and play without disturbing anyone else. The neighborhood was quiet with many elderly people living in it. The lawns and houses were well kept in spite of the fact that it was an older neighbor.

Moving day was stressful, but with the help of other police officers, Paul moved the family quickly and Leslie put things away as soon as the officers brought the boxes in. By nightfall, the family was settled enough to enjoy a desperately needed peaceful nights rest.

As Paul was working in the yard the following day, he heard voices in the yard next door. He was anxious to meet the neighbors and become a good neighbor, so he walked over and introduced himself. "Hello, my name is Paul. My family and I just moved in next door."

Paul saw a petite blonde woman of about 20, who was more than attractive. She was friendly and personable. She introduced herself as Janet and her husband as Curtis. Her husband was considerably older, about the same age as Paul. He was covered with tattoos, with ears pierced and had shaved his head. He looked like Mr. Clean with tattoos. He was in great physical shape and had the physique of a body builder. His silence and glower at Paul spoke volumes and was a stark contrast to his classy, friendly wife. He wasn't disrespectful or openly angry, just cold and distant. It wasn't the first time Paul had seen the look. He had been a police officer long enough to know that some people didn't like the office he represented and learned a long time ago not to take it personally.

Paul knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God had called him to be a police officer. He worked hard to show the balance of God's love and justice. The residents knew him to be polite, friendly and helpful. In Paul's mind that was just the way a Christian police officer ought to be. After meeting the neighbor, Paul went back in the house and got down on his knees before the Lord. "Lord, please help me to show your love to this man. He gives the appearance that he doesn't know you. Please use me in any way possible. Amen."

Paul and Leslie both liked Janet immediately. Leslie sent a batch of cookies over to her each time she baked them for the family. Leslie confided to Paul that Curtis made her nervous. Paul told her to follow all the safety procedures that he had taught her and everything should be fine. Besides, the police station was less than a mile away.

Paul was in the middle of watching a football game on television when he heard the yelling. It was a gruff, angry voice. He stepped to the door and looked outside. Even though Curtis and Janet's house was next door, Paul and Leslie's house was set back far enough from the street that from his front door, Paul could see their backyard. He saw Curtis standing over Janet, berating her unmercifully. He was not physically abusive, but his demeanor, stance and voice were certainly scary. Paul looked at Janet and saw the resemblance of a frightened puppy. He made a mental note to watch out for her.

As soon as he had time, Paul looked through the police files to see if Curtis had a record and found that he had been picked up several times for minor drug possession, but nothing major. Then Paul ordered a profile created on Curtis. "The profiled shows that he has many characteristics of a bully, which means if backed into a corner, he wouldn't fight, but enjoys intimidating others." The profiler told Paul. Janet was just the type Curtis would pick on. She was small, mild mannered, and forgiving. Paul determined that he would not allow Curtis to hurt her.

Paul began making it a point to 'work in the yard' when Curtis was home. He also invented reasons to visit their house. Curtis never allowed him to come in the house. When Paul was working late, Leslie would send him reports. One day when Curtis wasn't home, Paul saw Janet out in the yard and asked for her cell phone number to check on her. He gave her the number to his private cell phone and that of Leslie's. He noticed that she saved it in her contacts, but did not assign names to the numbers.

After that day, Paul and Janet talked about once a week on their way to work. Paul could usually tell by her voice how things were going. Leslie made it a point to call Janet on her lunch hour. The couple was committed to Janet and worked together to ensure her safety.

One evening as Leslie arrived home from the grocery store, she heard a lot of noise coming from Curtis and Janet's house. She listened, trying to determine the source. She could hear Curtis yelling, although she couldn't tell what he was saying. It was obvious from the tone that he was angry. Then she heard noise like something hitting wood. Taking out her cell phone, she called Paul and described the situation. "Go in the house and don't come back out no matter what happens." Paul told her.

It wasn't long before Leslie saw Paul's squad car pass in front of their house. She was sure he was at Curtis and Janet's house. She was praying for the safety of everyone involved when she heard the noise from next door get louder. She looked outside to see several police cars lining the street. She recognized Officer Murray's voice as he yelled "Drop the weapon. Drop your weapon, now." She saw that the incident had moved to the backyard. She and the kids did what Paul had taught and hid with several walls between them and the exterior walls. They were huddled together when they heard the gunfire. All the children started crying. "Daddy, Daddy. I want Daddy." Leslie tried to comfort them as much as possible, but was just as anxious to see if Paul was alright. This was the first time they had been this close to his work.

In just a few minutes, Leslie heard her front door open and Paul's voice calling her. With relief she went to hug him. Standing beside him was a tear streaked Janet. "Please take care of her while we finish up our work." He told Leslie.

"Would you like to go to the bathroom and wash your face?" She asked Janet. As soon as Janet was out of earshot, she asked Paul for an update.

"We found Curtis in the back room standing over Janet with pistol in hand. He refused to surrender, ran outside with the pistol, then turned and took aim at Beck. Murray shot him before he got off a shot. Now we just need to do the paperwork and take care of Janet."

"You take care of the paperwork and I'll take care of Janet."

Janet made it through the funeral with the help of many police officers. She began attending counseling and church. Within a few weeks, she had made a profession of faith in the Lord. Janet knew her life had changed and would always be grateful that one officer knew how to balance the love of God and justice.

I Will Volunteer for Jury Duty

Sometimes I see something in the news that makes me so mad I have to share it.  This is one of those times.  I will volunteer for jury duty for this case.  This is a news story about a man who is so irresponsible or stupid, that he should never have been allowed to have children.  Read this article and comment on your response.

In this booking photo released by the Orange County Sheriff's Dept. on Monday Aug.... (AP Photo/Orange County Sheriff's Dept.)

SANTA ANA, Calif. (AP) — A man accused of throwing his 7-year-old son overboard during a sightseeing cruise around California's Newport Harbor says he and the boy were just "horse playing" and talked about jumping in the water together.

"I was not trying to kill my son. We were playing in the shallows," Sloane Briles told KTLA-TV on Tuesday. "I discussed it with him. We'd jump in together and just thought it would be funny, ha ha."

Two of 85 people who were on the Sunday afternoon tour saw things differently. In 911 tapes released Tuesday, the passengers expressed shock and disgust after seeing Briles toss the boy into the water.

"I'm on a boat tour called the Queen and there's a man who just threw his son overboard," a woman told an Orange County sheriff's dispatcher.

"This man has been bad on our whole trip and he's swimming back to our boat now," she said.

Sheriff's spokesman Jim Amormino said Briles, 35, was on the tour with his girlfriend and two sons from a previous marriage. Amormino said they got into an argument and Briles threatened to toss the boy into the water if he didn't stop crying.

Staff members on the 42-foot boat said Briles told the boy he needed to toughen up then threw him into the water five feet below, said Charlie Maas, who oversees the tour company.

Someone on the boat threw the boy a life ring, and he was safely rescued, uninjured, by another boater. The father also jumped in to save him before swimming back to the tour boat.

Another 911 caller said she thought Briles was "drunk and violent."

Briles was taken into custody for child endangerment and resisting arrest. He denied witnesses' accounts that the boy was crying and said he had never hit his son.

His girlfriend told the New York Daily News that he was only "roughhousing" with his son as he often does and regretted his "stupid" judgment.

"His sons are his whole life," Jennifer Burrelli told the newspaper. "He would never ever do anything to hurt them on purpose. He knows now it could have gone badly. He doesn't even care about the arrest or his own name. He knows it was stupid."

She also said she and Briles were not arguing before the incident.

Both the boy and his brother were returned to the care of their mother. The couple was married in 2002 and separated in 2006 after having two children. They divorced in 2007.

Family court filings showed Briles lost his job in the mortgage industry in 2007 and got another job, but was injured and drew worker's compensation. He successfully petitioned to get his child support obligation reduced and tried for a second reduction, which his ex-wife, Christin, opposed.

"If he truly wanted to support his boys he would find a job," she wrote in the filing. She also wrote that Briles sees the boys only on his weekends and rarely calls them during his off weeks.

Briles pleaded guilty in in February 2009 to being in contempt for not paying child support and was sentenced to three years of probation, according to court records. Briles also pleaded guilty in 2011 to public intoxication.