The number one reason I hear people give for avoiding the faith is usually a question: how can a good and loving God allow so many bad things to happen in the world? They know there’s no answer to that question, and I suspect it’s used to trap Christians into trying to explain the unexplainable.

I could tell you that there’s plenty of beauty in the world too. I could tell you that all the evil you see is the result of the devil’s work in this world, and because of God’s grace to let us have free will, we bring it on ourselves with our sinful nature. I could tell you that there’s a perfect Kingdom waiting for us beyond this life, and our joy will be complete when we navigate the mines and pitfalls of this world. I could tell you it’s a test of character, a test of faith, or a test of will. I could tell you that it’s to strengthen you for blessings to come. There’s a grain of truth in all of these things, but you’d still call crap on me because it’s not really an answer. So let me smash this stereotype right now: Christians don’t get it, either, and the truth is that we’re just as puzzled about it as you are.

Several years ago, I went to a funeral for a friend’s mother and the hymn of choice was “When Peace Flows Like a River.” People were swaying and waving their hands, saying “oh yes, Lord, it is well with my soul!” and I thought you people are full of crap. Just minutes before, my friend greeted me with tears in her eyes and told me how devastated she was over this sudden loss. Death, I thought, is not well with my soul, and I’m not ok with it. In fact, I’ve never once met a person who really and truly had a “whatever you want is alright with me, Lord” mentality. For all the faith I’ve seen, I’ve heard plenty of whining and tears and “why?” Nobody’s that well adjusted that just anything is alright and they’ll roll along as if it’s no more than picking apples at the grocery store. I’m sure that song has the best of intentions on how we should be, but nobody’s well with anything that happens. At least I’m bold enough to admit it. I have plenty of problems with plenty of things in this world, and I’m not afraid to admit it: to God, to myself, and to others. I don’t know why people of faith believe they have to hide their pain behind false piety.

I’m a Christian just like the others, but I can tell you that the pain of the world has no answer that will satisfy the soul. Some things just don’t make sense, and there’s no way to wrap our heads around it. Anybody that tells you they have the answer to this riddle is lying.

Ollie’s Story

 On June 24, 2010, Rick brought home a precious green and yellow parakeet from the school he works at. The vice-principal found the little fellow in the outside courtyard, completely exhausted, hungry, and confused. None of Rick’s co-workers knew what to do with the little fellow, and nobody was stepping up to claim the loss. Rick felt sorry for the bird sitting alone in the school all night and weekend, so he brought him home, believing that we and our two parrots, Zack and Chloe, would be good for him.

Before too long, that parakeet was our third bird. We named him Oliver, and he eventually opened up and became a great companion bird. Plus, he sang beautifully. I’d never heard anything like it! We took him to the vet for a “well check,” and the vet told us that he was less than six months old, and the singing was probably from being in close contact with a canary during his early days.

Ollie was great. He got along with our parrots well and was an outstanding companion. Family and friends adored him and loved hearing his songs and watching him bounce around his cage. The only issue was that he seemed to be camera shy. I only have a couple of videos of those beautiful songs, and a handful of pictures. More often than not, I’d get a picture of the wall because Ollie would jump away just as I took his picture.

In October 2013, I noticed that Ollie seemed to be gimpy on his left leg. Zack had just recovered from an upper respiratory infection, and I wondered if Ollie had fallen and banged his foot one day when I wasn’t around. Zack and Chloe had both done this, and were usually fine anywhere from a few minutes to a day later. A couple of days later, I was alarmed when I noticed that Ollie stumbled and was trying to avoid use of that leg altogether. I called the vet. Our regular vet wasn’t available, but another one in the practice took a look at him. He diagnosed Ollie with a kidney infection and said the infection had caused nerve inflammation that was affecting that leg. He gave Ollie a shot and some antibiotics and told me that the infection would clear up in a couple of weeks, but the nerve inflammation could take as much as six months to heal.

Ollie seemed to improve, but after Thanksgiving, I noticed that he was having trouble perching. Now his right leg seemed to be bothering him. I took him back to the vet. I asked for our regular vet, but he was tied up in emergency surgery. Another vet with the practice came in and said she thought the inflammation had spread, and maybe the infection didn’t clear up completely. She gave Ollie another anti-inflammatory shot and more antibiotics. The vet that saw Ollie the first time came in briefly and agreed with this assessment. They asked that Ollie come in two weeks later for a follow up. Ollie had perked up some by the follow up, but still had trouble moving. At this time, I had put him in a smaller cage and set it up with a large “corner perch” and other flat areas instead of perches so he could get around better.  Rick took Ollie to the vet that time, and his regular vet came in for that visit. He said that a tumor was a possibility, but he doubted it because that’s more common in older birds, and Ollie was only three and a half. He said he could do an X-Ray to know for sure. Rick and I talked about it and decided against it. Ollie was stressed out from all the vet visits, and Rick had just been through a two month ordeal with a tooth infection and root canal that had to be redone. Christmas was upon us, and frankly I was overwhelmed – so much that I came down with the flu on New Year’s Eve, even though I had a flu shot. Plus, I just wasn’t sure if I could handle what that X-Ray might reveal. It had been a very stressful time between work issues and Rick’s tooth problems, and frankly I just couldn’t take anymore.

I think you’ve figured out what happened by now. Ollie never recovered and in fact, he continued to deteriorate. On February 27, 2014, Rick and I took him to see his regular vet one more time. The vet found a large tumor on the base of Ollie’s spine. He as absolutely shocked. “He’s so young! I just don’t understand,” I remember the vet saying. And that was the end. There pretty much wasn’t a question. I told Ollie that we loved him and would see him on the other side (I always say this when dealing with death), and he was put to sleep.

I honestly believed he would recover, and it makes no sense to me why an innocent parakeet suffered like that. Ollie never hurt anybody or did anything wrong. We rescued him and intended to give him a long, full life. Why weren’t we allowed the time to do that? I don’t know.  It didn’t make any sense to me on February 27, 2014, and it still doesn’t today. I can’t tell you why Ollie died, especially in such an awful, painful way. But he did, and I’m left with no choice but to accept the loss as one of life unexplainable and move on.

Canyon View

Later that day, after we cleaned up and stored away Ollie’s things, I logged on to my computer to check on a few things for my writing. As my background screen came up, a strange thing occurred to me: it was a picture I had taken at The Grand Canyon exactly one year ago that very day.

I see that picture almost everyday, but it really struck me that evening: both because of the irony of going from a magnificent experience to something that absolutely sucked in 365 days, and because I actually stopped to remember the moment I took that picture. Visiting The Grand Canyon was one of those paradigm-shifting experiences that really caused me to look at things differently. Pictures really don’t do it justice, because it’s incomprehensible unless you experience it – and it is something that you experience with your whole being. I remember  looking at the red rock, blue sky, and sunshine and thinking: This is reality. This is as close as I’ll get to seeing the world like God sees it. That was the world as God created it, before people came along and started carving out our little places in the crevices. That is how the universe really exists. It’s not the 19 inch screen we’re limited to in our day to day living. It’s the unlimited panorama of everything.

The only thing about that view is that my eyes weren’t good enough to see into the valleys and crevices in that rock. I saw the Colorado River as a small, green blip at the bottom of one of those areas, and I only saw it because a sign with a telescope posted showed me where to look, and it was still small. I know that’s a huge river that carved out the very canyon I stood at the top of, but from where I stood at the top, I would have missed it if it weren’t pointed out specifically. And people rafting that river certainly couldn’t see me standing up there, looking down at them. The rock over their head blocked that view.

Human view is limited. Even if we try to step back and see the big picture, there’s no way we can see into all the valleys and pits way down there, and we certainly can’t see the sky well when we’re in one of them. Our vision is one way, and our minds can’t comprehend how it all works together for God’s greater good. I can’t tell you why Ollie died. I can’t tell you why I lost three friends to cancer during an 18 month period of time a few years ago. I can’t tell you why I lost two great aunts to dementia, and now my father-in-law has fallen prey to it. I can’t tell you why people get sick, or why the good suffer just as much or even more than the bad, or why things with apparently good intentions fall flat, or friends betray you, or people aggravate you, or why it just doesn’t work out. There are plenty of things I’ve seen and experienced that to this day, I cannot figure out what good came of it. Maybe I will understand one day, or maybe that reason will never come. All I know is that life isn’t fair, and that Eccleasiastes 9:11 is absolutely right: time and chance happen to us all.

Living with Questions

Being a Christian doesn’t protect you from the dark places; it simply gives you the courage to live with the questions, and the faith to trust that the answers are out there and will work together for good in the end (Romans 8:28). This also isn’t an instantaneous thing, but rather a process that we must work through. It’s perfectly natural to feel anger and grief over our losses and struggles, and there’s no shortcut to dealing with them. We must work through our emotions and take the time we need to come to terms with the questions that plague us.

I don’t believe God is happy when we suffer. Rather, I believe He suffers with us and doesn’t expect us to take it gracefully. Remember that He gave us our emotions so we would know when things aren’t right, and to not feel them means we didn’t obey that all important commandment from Jesus to love. The pain means that you did love, and that is always a right thing to do. These are the times when it’s imperative to have a relationship with the Lord. Believe me, He can take it. He can take your anger, your frustration, your fear, and your sadness. Rant, rave, and rage at him. You can’t hurt Him, but He can heal you if you’re honest with Him and yourself. This is a time when it’s fine to talk and talk and talk –  and then listen for your comfort, in whatever small ways it can be offered. You might be surprised where you find it, too.

I know the outpouring of sympathy when Ollie died touched me as much as his loss. The outpouring of sympathy both from friends in person, online, and even strangers shocked me. It’s usually in tragedy that we bond, and common ground is found in comfort. You may not find the answers, but you could find many other gifts in your suffering that you never expected.

It’s not an answer, but it’s something. Thanks be to God.

I’ve heard that apply pressure, and true character shows. If that’s the case, we’re having quite the reveal now. It seems that a lot of people are struggling with a lot of different things these days. My father-in-law is still recovering from his brain surgery last week in the hospital, but we certainly aren’t alone. I know others struggling with ill family members, terminal illness, accidents, and a couple of sudden, unexpected deaths. All of these people work, and all of them are dealing with work issues on top of their personal issues.

I’d say life is bleeding us out now. And we’re all seeing who’s real and who’s full of crap right now, too, because pressure draws out something else: drama. Or at least, you find out who’s a spotlight hog and who’s prone to logic in times like these. Truth always reveals itself, and it’s usually at times like these when there’s no place to hide. You see who’s the love and compassion lighting your way, and who’s the black hole that sucks you dry and gives nothing in return.  In turn, you see where your energy should be so you can get the hell out of the event horizon of a vacuum and go toward the light. And you don’t forget it, even when the whole mess is over.

That’s the one inconvenient fact that too many people forget. Masks can’t be put back on once they fall off. That’s why character bleeds with pressure. Once it’s tapped, you can’t ooze it back in. It’s out there for the whole world to see.

You also learn a lot about yourself in times like these. You learn how tough you really are; and how well you stand up to the pressure. You see if you’ve really grown as much as you think you have. It’s the truest test of progress and maturity. If you do better holding your center in this trial than you did the last, then you’re good. If not, you know the targets for improvement.

I’m very happy right now that I read The Secret a few weeks ago. What I learned has been a tremendous help with coping, and has helped me to keep a better balance than I have in the past. Certainly, I’ve still had my not flattering moments, but I do hope that I’m doing better at capturing the anxious or worried thoughts and replacing them with prayers of hope and healing – and not just for me and my family, but for everybody who’s struggling right now.

If you’re struggling right now, let me offer you encouragement and hope. Look outside at everything blooming right now. That’s life – all that green and blue and color is everything in the world alive, and where there’s life, there’s hope. We all struggle and you certainly aren’t alone. Don’t allow yourself to be defeated. Stop looking down, where things die and are buried, and look up to the sun, where things live and breathe and hope. Change your focus from your worry to your hope.

If you’re doing well, I congratulate you. Nobody wants to rain on your parade, and you certainly deserve to enjoy good fortune. Just don’t forget compassion for those who aren’t on the mountaintop with you. Taking a moment to offer a word in season will multiply your blessings and keep you in the sun.

And if you’re just plugging along on the journey, take hope in both. Laugh with those who laugh, and mourn with those who mourn. You’re heading one way or the other. Err on the side of caution by bestowing good, positive energy on all. Whether you’re a companion or a comfort, you can’t go wrong.

We’ll be fine. Things happen and there’s no use fretting over the why’s. There’s a pretty good chance the answer will never come (certainly not to our satisfaction), so it’s best to get alright with the unanswered questions.  “Time and chance happen to them all” (Ecclesiastes 9:11), so as it hurts, so shall it heal and give way to joy in due time. Life is always in motion. That’s why it’s called a journey. So let’s bleed out our truth, heal, become better people, and make sure we’re moving in the right direction, now and always.

That’s all today. Take care and have a great rest of the week.

Bye! 

On this, my 38th birthday, I find my self pondering the progress of the past year. I suppose this is a natural thing to do on a birthday. On first glance it could seem disappointing, as there are no "major" changes to report, but that's actually deceptive. There have been changes in the past year, but they've been more in the way of "shifts" instead of what could be clearly defined as "changed." I suppose this sounds somewhat elusive, so of course I'm going to explain.

The progress of the past year has actually been more in the way of building on things that have already been in motion. While it doesn't seem that much has changed - after all, life is progressing along very much the same today as it was a year ago - I can't say that I think about or feel the way that I did about life as I did one, two, or five years ago. In fact, as I ponder it, I notice that my paradigm has shifted quite a bit in the last 4 years. I suppose this is natural. My job changed and I finally broke into publication with my writing in 2010 - 2011, and while these things are "the norm" in my life right now, I see how incorporating those changes into my life has changed my view of life and the world. My basic morals haven't changed. That's not something that's likely to change. But the way you see the world around you and apply those morals can change, and I'm starting to see the evidence that it's happened. When you walk in faith long enough, you delve deeper into things, and that's certainly what's happened to me.

So how have I changed? For one, I'm seeing a whole new application of the concept of "reaping and sowing," as described in Galatians 6:7. You all know that this is one thing that my grandfather was a big believer in, and I took it to heart. But this verse applies to more than just relationships with other people and how you treat them - it also applies to progress and purpose in life. In fact, if you shift two more verses you'll read that "in due season we shall reap, if we do not lose heart." (Galatians 6:9) After several years of hard work to re-establish myself professionally in my current workplace and to get my writing established, I see the value of patience in all that we do. If life really is a series of ups and downs, reaping and sowing, then that has big implications for all of life. If we choose to only allow ourselves to be happy on the mountaintop, when we're reaping the rewards of our labors, then we're guaranteed to be miserable (or at least, withholding our own happiness) at least 50% of our life. Folks, that just isn't acceptable to me. That's not going to do it. Sure, there are some people that enjoy being miserable and whining and complaining to get attention, but that's not the way I choose.

I know from experience that there are blessings in every day because I've been through the major life changes when I looked back and realized that there were little blessings that I took for granted, and I was sorry for it. An example: before my writing was published, I used to do counted cross stitching and wrote short stories. Much to my surprise, I find that I have very little time for that now, between promoting my published works and creating new ones. I love my writing and pray daily that it will continue to grow and reach more people - in fact, I'm prayerfully striving to make a break into science fiction with Splinter this fall - but there are some days when I miss having the time to cross stitch, or to goof off on Writing.com with short story contests. I didn't realize how much time these things filled in my life until my writing grew to the point where I had to make decisions about what stayed and what went. I still stitch occasionally, but large projects are out now. And as for short stories, they take me longer to write, prepare, and complete than they once did. And ditto for the work move. I was glad to make it and still believe it was the best, but I didn't realize the little things I took for granted, like talking to a couple of my friends when things got slow, the great walking paths on the State House grounds, a covered parking spot or those outstanding subs for a great price on Tuesdays and Fridays. Yes, I've gained a lot through both changes. I wouldn't undo either of them or the world because I gained a lot more than I lost. But I did learn to not despise the small things, and to appreciate the small blessings that go with each day as well as the big things we work so hard to cultivate and grow in our lives.

Some people say this means to "enjoy the journey on the way to where you go," but I think there's a deeper meaning than that. A devotion I read recently said, "God doesn't want you to be happy. He wants you to do what's right." That really hit me and helped me to get a grasp on my own paradigm shift. I used to think that the point was about being happy, and I actually worried for a little while, wondering if I'd ever be happy like I was before. I see now that I won't, because happy is a side effect. The purpose of life is not to serve our feelings, but to do what we're supposed to be doing and work hard to do what's right for our purpose in life. If you are faithful in well doing and obedient to the spirit, there's a contentment to your life that nothing - situations, circumstances, or other people and their attitudes (because that really reflects on them more than anything else, but that's a pondering for another entry) - can affect. You can rest in knowing that you're doing all you can, and that allows you to enjoy the blessings of every day, large or small. And contentment is better than happiness. It's more stable, because you can still see the blessing in what you have even if a thousand aggravations are bleeding out of them. It's built on a firmer foundation that gives you the patience to hold out for the "bigger picture" even if you don't understand what the point is (as is often the case). It's built on a trust between you and the Lord and nobody else can put their hands on it. And that can give you the courage to do what's right, even in the face of ridicule, opposition, or doubt. Happiness is transient and comes and goes with circumstances. Contentment is faith in action.

No, the earth hasn't moved in the last year. Things look much the same today as they do every other day. But I know they aren't. I see how the work at the everyday levels is building to something new and better. I might not know what yet, but when it is revealed then I'll reap a reward in due season, and be glad I didn't lose heart.

That's all today. I hope you have a great week.

Bye!

Check out the awesome new cover for Move, courtesy of the brilliant artwork of Tatina Villa. I absolutely love it and highly recommend her to indie authors for their book covers. She's great to work with, she works fast, and her prices are very good! You can check out more of her great cover designs at Vila Designs. I found her on the Smashwords recommended list and I highly recommend her too!

Not only that, but I enrolled Move in the Smashwords Summer/Winter promotion. If you buy it there during the month of July, you can get it for half off - that's $1.50! Just go to Smashwords and enter coupon code SSW50 by midnight on July 31 to take advantage of the promotion. And best of all, you can download it in any ebook format there. So there's no excuse because you can get it for any ereader or computer.

It's some good news this week. I also made some much needed revisions to "Home" this week and have posted it to my writing portfolio at Writing.com .

So, of you've followed me on social media then you know another person in my work section resigned yesterday. I don't want any of you to misunderstand my frustration with this situation. I certainly understand that people have to do what they have to do to make their lives better. I would never blame anybody for taking advantage of an opportunity. My frustration comes from two places: First, after being totally and completely displaced three years ago when my job moved, some of the whining I hear over changes sounds like the girl that complained to me about having sinus drainage after I had just recovered from a stomach infection. A runny nose sounds whimpy when you've been on 3,000 milligrams of antibiotics for three weeks, and are in the  middle of six weeks of treatment for the internal damage and inflammation the infection left behind. And frankly, some staffing rearrangements and reinterpretations of policies and procedures barely register a blip on my personal radar. But it's pulled the rug out from under some people. Good thing they weren't me three years ago. That was the Hammer of Thor smashing my life to smithereens. What would they have done?

So it's perspective. I see things very differently because of my experiences, and I'm sure my boldness also makes me more likely to stand (and respect those who do rise to it) more than those that take the exit route. But then again, there are also times when it's the better part of wisdom to walk away gracefully and stop fighting a hopeless battle. Who's to say what's right? Well, this is where the other part of the frustration comes in.

You are responsible for doing whatever's necessary to make your life better, but you also have to acknowledge an uncomfortable fact: if you make a major life change that forces other people to make changes to their own life that they didn't plan on, they're going to get pissed off. It's not jealousy, as some  people accuse. It's justifiable anger at having their life changed by a decision made by another person. And frankly, it's not a battle you can win. This is a situation where it's 100% impossible to make all of the people happy. You aren't, and you have to live with the fact that some people are going to be mad at you for what you leave behind for them to deal with. What's more, they have a right to be mad. It's a natural response and it's best to let it play out. It's just one of those things that everybody has to deal with on their own and move on the best they can.

I do have faith that things will work out and in fact, I feel very hopeful that we're on the recovery side of all the transition and chaos that's rocked us these past few months. I know I've said many times that I haven't come this far to quit, fail, or give up, and I see signs that others aren't either. I'm seeing strength emerge and courage in the face of uncertainty, and that's a great encouragement to me. Right now, I see the small glimmers of opportunity that, if properly handled, will lead to the great blessings of tomorrow.

We'll get there. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or next week or even next month, but I see signs of progress. I'm straining to see it, but there's no doubt that it's there. And that's always a good thing. Let's keep our eyes open to those opportunities and we will reap in due season, if we do not lose faith.

That's all today. Have a great rest of the week.

Bye!