Unselfish Love

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As I lay here in bed on this night, there is a world out there that struggles. It struggles with a lust for money, and power. Its people fight over possessions, sometimes with their own kin. They argue over differences. They seek fame with their fortune. They go to court over their rights and over the position of an imaginary line drawn on the earth.

Countries go to war with one another. They seek advantage over their neighbors, and dominance within their sphere. They use food and medical care as a hedge against their enemies, or in some cases even against their own people. Some are controlled by he who has the most power, or they who have the most wealth. Leaders rise to power, promising hope and delivering helplessness.

Out there, there are those who live their lives in fear. Some fear death. Some fear hunger. Some fear a virus. Some fear those who don’t fear a virus. Some have fear that those who fear the virus will control those who don’t fear the virus. Some just fear everything.

Religion. Race. Politics. Position. Ignorance. Hate. Reason after reason for fighting, arguing, maiming, killing, and destroying.

Beyond this place, there are worries. There are worries about finances and taxes. There are concerns for broken down cars and damaged roofs; heavy hearts which are burdened over rent and mortgage payments. Lives are being damaged by drugs and alcohol. Illness and disease leave people weak and empty. Families are breaking along with hearts. All this beyond these walls.

But for tonight, none of those things matter. As I lay in this twin bed, in a room surrounded by Unicorns, glitter, stuffed animals and small treasures, I can’t help but marvel. A little girl gladly gave up her bed and her room for her Pappy. Another gave up her room for her Meemaw. They sleep on the couch with glee, feeling a happiness in sharing their space, and overwhelming satisfaction in the fact that their offer has been accepted. While most of the world fights to keep what it has, they gain immense joy over sharing what they have. Unselfish love. Couldn’t that world outside use a little more of that?

The Bittersweet Novelist

09/06/2014

These days, novels about vampires, werewolves, and zombies are all the rage.  Books are filled with crime, suspense, fantasy, science fiction, and the list of genres go on.  The writing world insists on genre and defining your work.  Everyone wants things to fit perfectly into a box.  Finding a niche is never easy and most new authors end up writing for sales or popularity.

As a writer, I know that what I write doesn’t necessarily fit well with the most popular genres.  I write bittersweet novels, novels which blend the wonder and woe of life into stories meant to touch the heart.  Life is full of those little moments which give us pause and provide the clarity to determine what’s really important.  Life throws us curves and often when things are clicking along under skies of rainbows and unicorns we find ourselves suddenly facing the storm.  How we weather those storms build our character and helps to bring things into focus.

Loss is something we all experience.  Throughout life we will face loss.  We will win some battles and lose others.  We will lose our youth.  We will lose others with whom we are connected.  As humans with finite lives, we will face loss in more ways than we can count.  But left behind in those losses are memories, moments, minutiae, and mementos which we will hold onto for the rest of our lives.

Life’s losses and disappointments often leave us with longing… longing for a love which has been lost… longing for a time which has past … longing for the sunshine when the skies are dark.  Longing pulls at the heart and reminds us that we feel and are alive.  Sometimes hurt serves as a reminder that we still breathe, that our nerves still tingle, and that our hearts still beat.

Life is about learning new things and leaving other things behind.  Living is a growth process and as we see in the world, life often comes from death and decay.  Organic matter which provides the nourishment needed in nature comes from what has been left behind by what has lived before.  Plants feed off the passing of other plants and we feed off the lives of those who have come before us.

Above all, life is about love.  Love fills the gaps loss leaves behind.  Love binds the wounded hole in our hearts.  Love transforms longing into contentment.  Love reminds us of the beauty of those moments, the happiness in those memories, and the treasure in those mementos.  Love endures beyond the loss and within the longing.  Love allows us to rise above that which would otherwise pull us down.  Love transforms the bitter taste of cocoa into the sweetness of chocolate.

Life is bittersweet.  It gives us sunshine and brings us rain.  Life has its ups and it has its downs.  Life leads us and it pushes us.  Life fills us with hope and leaves our hearts empty.  Life isn’t a destination; it’s a journey.

Blending loss, longing, life, and love into stories which touch the heart helps me recognize what is important.  It allows me to experience the emotions which remind me I am alive.  The simple mix of bittersweet reveals the silver lining which lies beyond the surface and causes the reflections in life’s mirrors which allow us to see that which matters most. And so, though it may never allow me to sell as many books as the author who writes about vampires, I will write those bittersweet tales which blend teardrops and laughter – sadness and smiles – melancholy and triumph – shadows and sunshine.  I will seek to touch that place in your heart which wants to be reminded of loss, longing, life, and love.

Life Is A Box Of Chocolates

05/2013

“Life is like a box of chocolates, Forrest.  You never know what you’re gonna get.” — Mrs. Gump, Forrest Gump

I wouldn’t even need to give credit, and you would know where that came from. We all know the quote.  If you’re like me you’ve probably watched Forrest Gump a thousand times.  In truth there are several quotes which ring with wisdom inside the simple mind of Forrest Gump.  However, I believe his momma’s quote is about as spot on as they come.

Life is a blend of bittersweet.  I recently watched my second oldest son graduate.  As I looked out on those kids, there were so many who had endured or been touched by hardship and tragedy in their young lives.  There they were standing upon the threshold of adulthood, when life traditionally starts throwing things at you, and many had already experienced what one might consider as their share.  But on that day they were filled with smiles, childhood memories, and dreams.

Life is a blend of bittersweet; an experience of triumph and tragedy mixed together creating its own unique taste.  A selection of morsels from which we all partake, it’s made up of varied ingredients; a splash of tear drop, a dash of longing, sprinkles of happiness, and a dusting of pure sweet memories sifted into this bowl of existence; kneaded by the fingers of time; rolled out beneath the weight of loss; stamped into the shapes of broken hearts and angel wings.  The taste is without compare; deeper than the loss of innocence, more enticing than the pull of melancholy, as sweet as the aroma of love.

Whether heartache or happiness, emotion plays an important role in this journey.  This is why I write what I write.  I find value in the emotion of words, in the ability of an author to flick that switch with just a phrase, a context, or even a well-timed word.  The right word can trigger a feeling or a memory; memories which serve as the doorway to reconnect with those moments of happiness, contentment, and love.

Life is a blend of bittersweet; we find ourselves celebrating the good times and struggling over the bad times.  We try to make sense of it and understand the reasons things go the way they go.  In the midst of tragedy, silver-linings are hidden in the misty fog of sorrow and heartache.  When life is going our way it can seem like rainbows and candy sprinkles, but when life throws a curve and the clouds roll in, the color seems to disappear.  We find the air sucked from our lungs and the world closing in around us, sending us to seek comfort in faith, prayer, and in others.

Most of our lives, most of the time spent on this earth, falls somewhere between the teardrops and the laughter.  But just as the majesty of the mountains, the enormity of the canyons, and the might of the oceans cause the bland road-travel to disappear among our vacation recollections, so the hills and valleys of life seem to become the highlights of our existence; the granite core to our nostalgias.

I read a story once in an Ann Landers column; it was called The Station by Robert J. Hastings.  In fact, I’ve kept a copy around for a long time to reference from time to time.  It speaks of life and happiness as a journey and not as a destination.  It serves as a reminder that the little day to day interactions are just as important as those monumental moments.  I’ve seen this in the example of my children.  When we get lost in reminiscence, I’m often amazed at the little things which mean so much to them; things which had slid by me almost without notice had become part of their favorite memories.

Life is a blend of bittersweet.  It is a box of chocolates.  We take the good with the bad.  We never know what we will get.  But we have the opportunity to fill in the middle with our own pieces of nuts, filling, or fruit which can add flare or flavor in any way we desire.  We can claim our own successes and recognize those things which we choose to make important.  We can allow the gentle rub of soul against soul to leave our touch upon others and leave our mark behind.  We can take the time to consider what others have left behind for us.  How have they touched us? How did their presence make us just slightly different than the person we may have been without them?

Life is a blend of bittersweet.  Taste it for what it is.  Discover that which moves you and treasure the flavors you savor.  Taste that sweetness and allow the bitter aftertaste to remind you how fleeting that taste can be; fleeting enough to be worthy of our recognition and our wonderment.

Time Is A Commodity

2012

I’ve had this thought on my mind for a while now.  Recent events have tweaked and twisted it, but still it remains. Time is a commodity.  It is something of value.  It is something with which we barter.  It is something we trade, sell, or donate.  In looking back at my first blog of the year, I find this is a bit of a continuation of that theme.

You know, all books and all authors have some theme or meaning lying underneath the surface of the words.  Themes can deal with nearly anything – internal conflicts, external conflicts, personal value, search for happiness/contentment, etc.  You follow me on this I’m sure.  In my book, Loving Deacon, the theme focuses on personal value.  Deacon has found happiness in his wife and his family, but what he is missing is his personal satisfaction with who he is and the purpose his life has served.  In Whispers in the Wind, Abby thinks she has found happiness by following her dreams, only to find true happiness somewhere else.  The Ladder Climber is yet to be published, but its theme deals with finding the right balance to life and work.  The Blemished Rose, which also has not yet been published, deals with misplaced guilt.

One underlying theme in each of these novels is time.  In every instance, time plays a major role because life is much about time and how we use it.  Time is a commodity.  We trade time to our employer for pay.  We put in a certain amount of time on the job and they give us a certain amount of money for that time.  Of course, when it comes to how much money we are able to get for that time other factors come into play, such as technical skills, experience, and the difficulty of the task.  This particular blog article isn’t about discussing the fairness of the trade, a discussion which could go on and on, but rather the fact that time is something which is limited and valuable.

Although much of our time is necessarily devoted to work or earning a living, we chose how we use our time.  We try to portion our time so we can keep at least some of it for ourselves and our families.  Some people save enough time to golf, fish, read, watch movies, or whatever makes them happy.  Parents save time to go watch their kids play sports or attend a Christmas concert.  Families look forward to taking time for vacations.  People donate time to charities.

Perhaps if we knew just how much time we had, we would prioritize it better, but the truth is we don’t.  When we are young life seems almost endless and we find ourselves believing we have plenty of time.  We take more risks, we live carefree, and time appears to be on our side.  And yet, plenty of young people never see their eighteenth birthday; they just didn’t have much time.  As we grow older and people pass from among us, the limits of our time start to become more real.

Based upon my core beliefs, I believe there is a purpose to the amount of time we are given; a purpose for life and a certain amount of time in which to accomplish it.  Deacon says we are like dominoes and each of us impacts the other.  Therefore, my purpose could lead you to your purpose or vice versa.  The ripples of your life may flow into mine.  Even a life which seems cut short may have been just long enough to help shape another life or provide the catalyst necessary for another to find their purpose.  These are my thoughts and you’re welcome to your own, of course.

I must admit, much of mine is wasted on things with little importance.  So much time is spent worrying about things which really don’t matter in the grand scheme of life.  These things become a distraction, sucking away time which could be better served if focused upon things of value.  Such squandering of time is much akin to the accumulation of things; things which will waste and wither away; things which simply aren’t needed in order to live happy and comfortably.

What about you?  What’s your purpose?  Are you to do something which catches worldwide attention changing the course of history?  Maybe you’re doing something just as important by changing someone else’s history; nurturing children who will shape the world in which they live.  Perhaps your life was meant to rub up against someone else who has a completely different purpose.  Will you look back on your time and find it was used wisely or squandered on a pot full of irrelevance?  We probably all have things in our lives which are well worth the time as well as things which aren’t worth a minute and though I don’t think it is healthy to question ourselves on every second of our time, I do think it is healthy to realize that life is largely about how we spend our time.

Make the most of it my friends.  Hug those grand-kids.  Kiss your own kids.  Stop and smell the roses.  Take the time to offer roses.  Write a book.  Read a book.  Plant a tree.  Give some blood.  Visit with someone.  Spend some time alone.  Just use it for what is important to you and to those you care about.

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