Category Archives: Life

Why I Hate The Phrase . . .

“God answered my prayer.”

People only say that when they get the answer they want and/or expect. What about the times when we don’t get the answer we want? Does that mean God didn’t answer it? That he turned a cold shoulder as a way of saying, “What a stupid prayer that was. Don’t waste my time.”

When we ask people for something and they say no, do we run around complaining that they didn’t answer?

No. Instead we say, “He said no.”

Same way with God. He answers all our prayers. Most of the time the answer is no, and that’s a good thing. We don’t always know what’s best for us, but God always does. I can look back at some of my more fervent prayers when God said no, and invariably I find out later he was right.

Instead of telling everyone, “God answered my prayer,” we need to say, “God said yes.” It works the other way as well. Instead of crying to everyone, “God didn’t answer my prayer,” we need to say, “God said no.”

And be thankful for it. God always says no for a reason, even if we won’t know that reason for a while, if ever.

That’s the definition of trust.

Addendum: I actually wrote this four years ago today. The program I use to write my journal/blog entries sends me automatic notices of past entries I’ve written on today’s date. It’s possible this same entry is on my blog, but I think it deserved a re-post.

A Dose of Reality. It Sucked

A few nights ago my husband went to a club meeting, and our son spent the night at a friend’s house. Normally I enjoy the alone time to read, write, or watch a show only I like (in this case “Andromeda” with Kevin Sorbo).

I did a bit of all three, but I also felt rather lonely. Weird for me, but what caused that loneliness made me sad, too.

Our son is ten years old. Although he still likes to snuggle with me, and asks me to stay in his bedroom long after saying our prayers, my brain knows those days are numbered.

I think my heart realized it that night. Tom didn’t want to snuggle, or to spend time chatting after prayers. Instead he prefered to spend time with a friend. I got a glimpse of him spreading his wings, and I’m not ready for him to leave the nest — however slowly.

So says my heart.

My brain, on the other hand, is pleased.

Part of our job as parents is to not only protect our children, but to teach them how to be God-fearing, confident, smart (both book and life), ambitious, compassionate, generous, and shrewd so they can protect themselves and their own family when the time comes. In short, better, more successful versions of ourselves. They must be able to do it all without us, because we won’t be around to help them someday.

I like the fact that my son can be without us for a night. I hope he continues to exercise and strengthen those wings, so that he can soar higher and farther than I ever dreamed. Hopefully my husband and I continue to teach him well, so we won’t worry as much knowing he can take care of himself when we’re not around (this might happen largely in spite of us than because of us, though).

As long as he comes home to see us once in a while.

Even as my heart cries that my little boy is no more.

“Making the decision to have a child – it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” ~ Elizabeth Stone

Not Everything Needs to be Profound

Some of my best thoughts seem to come right after I go to bed, and far too often, I decide not to write it down, convinced I will remember it the next morning.

Yeah, right. Like that’s ever happened.

This time, however, I had a thought and decided that I must write it down. I am currently breaking one of my house rules — no electronics in the bedroom. I break it now only because I don’t want to get out of bed, turn on the light, and write it in a paper journal. I’ll have to rewrite it in my computer anyway, so waste the time (since I do enough of that already)?

I’ve been having trouble coming up with ideas for my blog.

I keep another blog on a different site. While lately I’ve been copying from this blog to that one, it was meant for more personal, daily life entries.

Tonight I decided to write “a day in the life” entry, and it felt good to do so. Nothing deep or profound, just some interesting things that happened.

I realized then that not all of my entries need to be profound. Lighter entries are okay, too. After all, people who read my blog do so, not only because I have opinions on certain issues, but to get to know personal things about me (not too personal, though, because, eww).

While I may not lead the most interesting life compared to some, that doesn’t mean it’s not worth sharing sometimes.

Especially the silly stuff, and I have plenty of those. Such as when I came down with a cold last year. I was so out of it, I went to work wearing two different shoes, and didn’t notice it until two hours later. Or when I warmed a breakfast sandwich at work. I accidentally set the microwave for ten minutes instead of one. It left a horrid smell in the entire building that lasted nearly two days, and no amount of Febreeze could cut through it.

I don’t mind sharing stories like that. I enjoy making people laugh, even at my own expense, because it keeps me humble.

Listen and . . .

Listen and . . .

I’m reading “Socratic Logic. A Logic Text Using Socratic Method, Platonic Questions, and Aristotelian Principles” by Peter Kreeft. I started it a few months ago, but am only about a third through it. Meaty stuff.

I bought it, because I wanted to learn how better to debate and discuss, and that includes knowing when to not engage. The book has helped, although I still fall into traps once in a while, and engage when I shouldn’t. Often those times occur when my opponent isn’t interested in listening and learning opposing views, but to scream at me.

One of my friends on Facebook tagged me with thoughts on a particular video, specifically on whether or not we’re listening enough: I Went Undercover in The Alt-Right

My response:

First off, thank you for sharing, and for tagging me!

He makes a lot of valid points, and I admit I’m constantly tempted to stay within my own echo chamber.

Part of it stems from frustration.

For example, when people malign the NRA. I so desperately want to have a real conversation with those who hate the organization, so I can show them what it means to be an NRA member, and why it’s so important to me. Instead, all I get is, “You have blood on your hands,” and “You love your guns more than your children.” I can’t engage in a conversation that way. No one can. At that point, it’s best to simply stay silent and walk away.

So yes, we need to not only step out to hear opposing views, we also have to set aside our pride just a little bit and ask, “Could my own preconceived notions be wrong? Does their point of view have validity?”

Like all conversations and debates, both sides have to be willing to set aside emotions, preconceived opinions, pride, and prejudices. We also need more logic when it comes to discussions and debates, and try not to take any disagreements personally. Until then, we’re all simply yelling at ourselves within our echo chambers. Those outside can’t hear, because they, too, are yelling at themselves in their own echo chambers.

We need to start by asking more questions without first throwing accusations. Anything less is disrespectful at least, cruel at worst. I don’t know about you, but I never once changed my mind because someone swore at me, or called me an awful person because I happen to be a member of a certain group.

Comedian Owen Benjamin has a great video titled, “If you can’t argue the other side, you can’t have an opinion.” It’s just over seven minutes long, but well worth it.

Listening to opposing views is a start, but it’s not enough. I can listen all day and decide not to be swayed by anything, regardless of how logical or factual the opposing argument is. It also takes a bit of humility, and asking, “What if I’m wrong?” Or “Do I see, and can I argue for the other side?”

Still, even if we can argue the other side, in the end we can still reject it. At least then we’ll know our rejection (or acceptance) is based on quantifiable logic and facts, and we can be confident that our decision has real merit.

Once we’re better informed, we can approach an opponent with, “I know exactly where you’re coming from.” It eases any initial discomfort, and real discussion can begin.

Better informed is always better armed, which means seeing (and arguing for) as many sides as possible, both at the extremes and in the middle.

Coincidentally, at the same time my friend shared the video, I was writing a rather ranty entry on my frustration with the never-ending vilification of the NRA. I will add it in a later entry, but after I edit out some of the rantiness. Part of why I want to tone it down is because i sounded a bit whiny and pitious.

I don’t want anyone’s pity, or to argue “ad Misericordiam,” which is an argument based on a strong appeal to the emotions, or an appeal to pity or misery. Appeals to emotion rarely work, especially long-term, because emotions by definition are irrational and fleeting.

“Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters: You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry.” ~ James 1:19

When The Abyss Stares Back

When The Abyss Stares Back

I found this tweet the other day that I simply had to share:

Someone soon commented: “It works both ways. ‘I’m a plumber, but I didn’t work today. The pipes weren’t speaking to me.’”

I well know how on-point that analogy is, especially as a writer without the added benefit of deadlines.

While writers are more often than not passionate about writing, how is it we so easily succumb to the temptation to set it all aside due to “lack of inspiration?”

I do this all the time, and I don’t have an answer. If I were to guess, though, part of it is our love/hate relationship to writing. It’s one of the few skills out there that no matter how much we study and improve the craft, success or failure is entirely dependent on the subjective opinions of others. Including ourselves.

We are also an emotional lot, with extreme ups and downs. Sometimes we love what we write, and want to share it with everyone, and other days we want to burn that same story or article in the fireplace so no one will see how much we suck.

When we enter that “I suck” phase, writing becomes near impossible, and we lose all motivation to fight through it. It becomes a viscous downward spiral, and that blank page and blinking cursor morphs into a dark abyss that stares back. Waiting to devour.

I wrote the above this morning, and I have to admit I’m impressed at how I started with something humorous and ended up with something rather dark. Am I sorry. Nope, because that was my inspiration. I at least wrote something, so I can happily say I stuck my tongue out at the “I suck Abyss” and survived.

The Power of Words

I’ve always believed writing is one of the most noble skills out there. Books, both fiction and nonfiction, when done well, will never lose their relevance hundreds, sometimes thousands of years later. They can heal, inform, and inspire. They can bring light to those drowning in darkness.

Here is one such example of how a teacher’s small act of sharing a book with a student literally (see what I did there?) saved his life. Warning. You may need to keep a few tissues on hand.

Never underestimate the power of words — even your own.

Walk with Me

As I continue my search for an agent, I can’t help but feel a little worn down and wore out.

Each time I ask myself, “Am I wasting my time? This agent’s time?”

God has told me time and again to keep on keeping on. It will happen. Eventually. And since he knows, why won’t he tell me which agents to approach, and which agents to pass on by?

After all, if God means for people to read my words, why won’t he show me the right path at the outset instead of allowing me to take so many dark and winding detours?

In Luke 24, Jesus had just risen from the dead, but none of the remaining disciples believed it.

While two of them traveled to Emmaus (verses 13-35) Jesus joined them to discuss his death, resurrection, and how scripture predicted all of it.

They didn’t recognize him until later that night.

Jesus could have revealed himself and the truth of his resurrection the moment he joined them on the road, but he chose to journey with them, to talk with, and teach them.

For him — and the disciples — the journey was of equal importance to the destination. Perhaps even more. That, and as witnesses, they were afterward better armed with scripture to help other disbelievers believe.

The same is true for for all of us. We can’t be so anxious, eager, and rushed to reach our destination that we miss walking with God, and allowing him to teach us along the way.

Sure, I want to know right this instant which agent will be the best fit, but by jumping ahead, what will I miss along the way? Lessons learned, people met, and wisdom gained?

After all, this journey isn’t only about me, but others who are, and will go through the same thing. I can only be a witness if I make the journey right along with them.