Day dreaming...

I was working this week on a farm in north Granville County. It is almost in Virginia. This part of the county is moving toward the mountains of western Virginia, the land lifts and falls as it ambles its way toward higher ground. The farm is covered in hardwoods. Huge oaks, maple and hickory dominate the landscape along with beautiful ornamentals planted 20 years ago.

The farm was purchased in the early eighties by a business man looking for a haven. For more than twenty years he has patiently built and planted, molding the contours of earth and wood together. Fences are well maintained and set with a flair for space and color. Weaving across the pastures as a seam follows fabric, traveling along each fold as the pleats of a ladies skirt. The foundation on his home was laid 18 years ago and the structure was completed 18 months ago. Each piece of the house was crafted by the owner, from siding to window frames, stair treads to mouldings, flooring to cabinetry. It is clear the owner has a love for wood and stone, earth and sky.

Needless to say, the owner is a private man, not given to showiness. He is not a braggart nor a snob. He has built a place of peace and beauty. The land is peaceful, it speaks to you to come and sit-a-while. The owner is not perfect, I would not call him and peaceful soul, nor would I call him bad. He is an enigma who wraps himself in the beauty of his farm and home.

The weather the last few days has been gorgeous, The sky yesterday was a deep sky blue, the clouds puffy and white, the air warm with a cool chill on the edges, the sun not burning, but warming. A perfect day and place to day dream. I always dream BIG. Nothing small nor trite makes its way into my day dreams, only the large and out of reach. Hope is always the foundation, looking to tomorrow for what may be. It is captivating, but sometimes not useful.
God wants us to live in the now, with hope in HIM for the future. Hope, He knows the way. Hope, He has the answers. Hope, he will make the dreams come true. Hope His will is in some of those day dreams. Hope, that regardless, he cares for me.

Selfish Pride

Pride can be very selfish. One of the main characters in Sea Tree is a minister (not my real pastor). The minister's wife is dying of cancer. Of course, members of the congregation as well as friends and family are dropping by to check on her.

At this point, I'm undecided whether I want this to be about the wife or about the minister - but it goes along these lines: Being disabled, or helpless in a situation, can cause one to become depressed. It's also possible for someone to be both depressed and prideful at the same time.

I think back to my dad and how he never asked for nor accepted something from someone that he didn't earn with his own labor. But finally he grew older and one day - I'll never forget this day - he came by my apartment and asked if he could borrow some money so he could put gas in his car. This was a dad who always had an extra $100 to give to his sons when he visited - and we were more than willing to accept his generosity. But he'd never asked us for anything. Even when my car was totalled, my dad never asked me to pay the remaining payments. He'd co-signed for the loan and it was his name he was protecting. To this day I don't remember how much he paid for my car; but he turned around and helped me get another one.

I remember that I didn't have much money that day, but I wasn't going to deny my dad this one request. I gave him $20, watched him blush as he humbly accepted what I had and he promised to pay me back that Friday when he got paid again; and I held back my tears until he backed out of the driveway. It broke my heart that my dad had to beg for money. He was sending his entire paycheck from the lumber yard home to my mother back in North Carolina. They'd separated for a period while he was going through male menopause. Yet it warmed my heart that he allowed me to return a small favor. True to his word, my father showed up Friday with that $20 and despite my protests that he keep the money, placed two $10 bills in my hand.

I remember more recently visiting my mother in a nursing home and asking her if I could do anything or get something for her. She'd ask for small things, and I was always happy to be able to get them for her. Back to my story and my quandry about whether this should be about him or about his wife..... Sometimes pride manifests itself as an unwillingness to impose on someone. Here's this minister with all these friends who want to help, but they can't do what he really wants them to do so he always turns down any offers to help. He's used to ministering to others and isn't comfortable when the tables are turned. When my fiance was in the latter stages of her cancer, those who knew and loved her would have gladly healed her if they had the power to heal. Some would willingly change places with her if they could. Love is like that, and we're lucky if someone loves us that much. I know when I'm not feeling well I don't want anyone bothering me. When people ask how I'm doing, I'll lie and say OK; and when they ask if they can do anything for me I'll say no - but I think to myself "Yeah, you could leave me alone!"

So how does my minister friend in the story respond to the kindness of others? Should he allow them to do whatever they can - even if it won't change the circumstances? Isn't it better to allow his congregation to minister to him (or his wife)? I would imagine that denying someone the right to minister to him would make them as miserable as he is. At the same time, by allowing them to do something simple - like running an errand or bringing his wife a milkshake or sitting by her bed and reading to her would bring happiness to the person who wants to help.

My real pastor encourages us to focus on building relationships and friendships. These relationships are often give and take - just like life. I suspect that my pastor in the story will learn to become a friend as well as a pastor.

Blogs and Forums

One of my distractions from working on my novel is my involvement in online forums. Some are Christian forums, others are secular but we find a way of sneaking our faith in those too. Our faith is part of our makeup, so why pretend to be what we're not?

One of the forums I visit was created to bash the Amway business. Former distributors and people who've never been in the business come there to complain about how they were misled by the leadership. Lots of whining and complaining - years after they left the business! You'd think they'd have something else to occupy their time. When I question why they are so passionate about their hatred for Amway, they ask me why I'm not? I fell for the same spiel they did, yet I only found their blog while trying to find a former friend from the business. I really haven't given much thought to that part of my life in quite awhile.

There's a religion thread on that blog where people compare the Diamonds to Pharisees. They condemn the prosperity doctrine while forgetting they got into the business to make money. If you try to defend the business or hold people accountable, they turn on you like rabid dogs. Here's my take. When I'm swindled by a used car salesman, I don't buy from that dealership again. When I get food poisoning at a restaurant, I never eat there again. I might tell my friends and family how I was cheated or turn down an invitation by co-workers to do lunch at that restaurant again, but I don't campaign against those businesses nor do I ridicule my friends for doing business there. They have just as much right to get ripped off and throw up as I did.

Since these businesses are still around, it's apparent that not everyone has had my experiences. My reality isn't their reality. There's no sense dwelling on the past - I just chalk it up as lessons learned and carry on. Perhaps I simply lack passion about MLM - good or bad. The only two things I might be passionate about are my time with my daughter and my dislike for liberals and the lies they tell. Maybe I need to become passionate about my story. If I did, I wouldn't have time for all these blogs and forums.

Distractions Along the Journey

I've had this novel in my mind for over a couple years now...even have the first couple chapters already typed. The problem is, I don't know how it's going to end. I suspect it will turn into a trilogy or maybe even a Never Ending Story. The characters are there and I'm always coming up with scenes and rabbit trails to chase, but lack the discipline to just sit down, start typing and see where it all goes.

The last year has been nothing but distractions: a daughter with cancer; a son who's been laid off from work; another daughter who is a couple years away from college and a life that may take her far from her dad; a grandson who needs a father; debts to be paid; transportation problems; even hiccups in my walk of faith. Along the way, I've begun to wonder if I really have something worth saying. But the dream's still there so I guess it will eventually come to pass. I can only do what I can control.

I wish I could take credit for this, but Allen Asbury said this in a performance when he started his professional music career: "A basketball in my hands is worth about $20. A basketball in the hands of Michael Jordan is worth about $33 million. A tennis racket in my hand is worthless, but in the hands of Pete Sampras, it's worth plenty. Five loaves and two fishes in my hands will make a couple of fish sandwiches; in God's hands they will feed thousands. A rod in my hand may hold off wild animals; a rod in the hand of Moses can part a mighty sea. A few nails in my hand might make a nice birdhouse; nails in Jesus' hands provide salvation for everyone." It all depends on who's hands the instrument is in. All my hopes, dreams, fears, plans and goals are fragile in my own hands, but in the Lord's hands they produce peace, joy, and patience in an otherwise chaotic life.

I've assessed my talents and my pitiful strength lies in the tips of my fingers poised over a computer keyboard. I hope to use them to produce something that will move people somehow, whether it's to laughter, or to tears, from hopelessness to faith. I don't know where the story is going, but I'm blessed to have friends and family who pray for me, who loan me cars when mine is dead; feed me healthy meals when I'm subsisting on chips and dip; who take my grandson to school because his mom is sick and I'm late for work; who allow my youngest daughter to stay over on teacher workdays so I don't have to take off work. You know who you are - and I thank God for you.