Sunday 25 June 2017

A Compelling Witness

      A Compelling Witness

When it comes to sharing your faith, what makes a compelling witness? Some might say that one needs to live the life that Jesus calls us to live. Be a loving caring person. Others think that one should talk about their belief in God. I would add one more action––share how God has been a blessing in your life. Of course doing all of the above might lead one to think that you are a compelling witness.
However, being a strong witness is no guarantee that the person that is receiving your message will choose to believe in God. The good witness is no different than a good seed. The sower scatters the seeds. The seeds fall on fertile soil, shallow soil, soil infested with weeds’ seeds. When your witnessing falls upon reluctant ears, is there anything that can yet be done?
In my novel, Baggage burdens. Bill acts in a very caring way toward his friend, Jill. He helps Jill find a replacement vehicle. He helps her reconcile the relationship with her eldest son. When he is challenged about his faith in prayer, he shares how he sees God responding to his prayers. Still, Jill doesn’t buy into his faith in God. Bill has the needed answer, but it takes time and patience.

“Something wrong?”
“I don’t think I can do it,” Jill confesses. “Whatever I come up with sounds like I’m making excuses. That’ll never work.”
“The fact that you can recognize what doesn’t work proves you will come up with the right words. And if you don’t, don’t worry. No one is perfect. You can do it. I’m sure of it. Trust me,” says Bill.
“I don’t know.”
“Jill, you really have to work on that trust. Believe me when I say I know you can do it.”
“But I don’t want to blow it.”
“Do you want help?”
“You can’t tell me what to say. It has to come from me.”
“You’re right, but I know how I can help you come up with the right words.”
“How?”
“Pray.”
“Pray?”
“Yes. Pray. Let’s ask God to lead you in your talk with Daniel.”
“I don’t know.”
“You sound like Moses when he said to the Lord that he didn’t have the ability to speak to pharaoh. Remember. God gave him the ability he needed.”
“That’s in the Bible. That’s a long time ago.”
“You don’t think it happens today?”
“Not to my knowledge. I’ve never heard anyone claim that God inspired them to say anything of value.
Then hear it now. Many times in talking with clients at the Wellness Center and even when I was the personnel manager I’ve said things I never thought of. Some times I said things in ways I wouldn’t have imagined. I’ve given thanks to the Lord for opening my eyes, or rather opening my mouth at the right time and saying the right things. Believe me, it pays to ask for the Lord’s guidance in uncertain times.”
Bill speaks with such confidence that Jill refrains from challenging him. Her doubts continue to plague her to the point of considering giving up on the idea of talking to Daniel.
Jill’s continuing silence prompts Bill to ask, “Would you like me to pray with you, to ask for the Lord’s leading on this healing venture?”
Jill nods. When he finishes Jill says, “Thank you. Now can we change topics?” She pulls her hands back.

haiku capsule:                 
You sharing your faith
through caring words and actions
What else is needed?



Next blog: Not Perfect

Sunday 18 June 2017

When There's No Hope

      When There’s No Hope



There’s nothing worse than the feeling that you have nothing to look forward to. The possibility that you can generate a spark that could turn out to be a light at the end of the tunnel is nonexistent. Approaching dark clouds turn day into night. Thunder roars so loud it threats to shake the bones free from your body.  Lightening flashes all about. You want to hide to avoid your skin being seared. The best you can hang onto is if you ride out the storm, you can look forward to a flood of destruction. There’s nothing you can do about your future. Give up.


There you shiver in a fog of doom and gloom, holding wet matches. How can such a hopeless situation be turned around? Answer: by a family member or close friend. They’re the only ones who know you well enough to know you need a candle in the window of a stormy night. The helper has a deep insight into the depressed person and knows what really matters to them. Also, they’re the only ones who most likely will spend the time that is needed to pull you through to normality.


In my novel, Baggage burdens. Jill, the protagonist, is found asleep on her bed, a bottle of pills half gone. Jill’s niece, Julie, knows Jill has just learned that her husband is divorcing Jill. Suicide, thinks Julie. She struggles to try to wake Jill. Then she says the one thing she suspects will jar Jill to consciousness––Josey. The name acts like an electric shock. Jill snaps back to reality. To Jill, Josey, her grandmother, is the only one who still holds a high opinion of Jill. The possibility of breaking that perception is like an attack on the last strand of decency that Jill holds on to. Julie’s successful desperation act strains her relationship with Jill, but that’s what family does for each other.

Jill doesn’t like the fact that her relationship with her eldest son is unredeemable, but she knows there’s nothing she can do about it. Live with it, she concludes. Bill, a close friend, through his words of advice, prayers and offer to be by her side, holds out a candle of hope. Reconciliation with her son is possible. However, before he can be of assistance the sincerity of his friendship is tested. Being the helper of one who struggles with hope is not easy.





Julie and Jill

Julie stops and glances back to make sure the bedroom door is closed and the children aren’t near. Pointing to the bottle she asks, “Jill, were you trying to end your life?” Julie can’t bring herself to say suicide, not to the aunt she loves and admires.
Tears flow from Jill. Her slow weak no fails to convince Julie. “Jill, you’ve got to get up, show some energy.”
Jill shakes her head slowly, making no attempt to control her body. She sinks heavily in Julie’s arms.
Jill’s reaction heightens Julie’s fear. ‘I’ve got to snap her out of it.’ Only one desperate idea arises. It’s a response that means breaking a promise.
“Jill, do I have to call Gramma Josey for help?”
As if taking a whiff of smelling salts, Jill sits straight up. “What?”
Julie says. “You never heard that.”
Sparked by fear that her grandmother might find out how badly Jill has failed, Jill swings her feet to the floor and looks directly at Julie. In a demanding tone she fires, “What does Gramma Josey know about me?”

Bill and Jill

“I had a chance to talk with Eve,” says Bill. “She said she’s happy that you phone her weekly.”
“I like her. She’s easy to talk to.”
“Interesting. She told me you’ve only been over to their place once since you came out of the hospital. She thinks it has something to do with an unresolved issue with Daniel. The fact that you hardly talked to Daniel worries her. Is there a problem?”
Jill’s first reaction is to get up and walk away, to not answer Bill’s question. His grip on her hands prevents her from leaving. She suspects that he’s deliberately holding her so she will not escape. The gentleness with which he holds her hand suggests permission to leave, permission to avoid dealing with his probing.
Guessing that Bill wants to help her, Jill chooses her words carefully. “I think he blames me for the divorce.” She looks down.
“So this is a short term problem, a recent development?”
Bill’s question makes Jill think Bill knows more about her strained relationship with her son. She looks up and finds him studying her closely. She reminds herself if she isn’t completely truthful, he will see it in her eyes. He always does.
“No. We’ve never been really close.”
“And you’re comfortable with this?”
“No. Of course not. But there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“And if there is, would you be willing to try?”
“Yes.”
Jill’s quick, firm response convinces Bill she is sincere.
“I might have an idea.” He pauses; afraid to touch what he understands is a festering sore.
“Well?”
Bill looks at Jill’s serious face. “You know in the Bible we’re instructed to confess our sins.” He paraphrases the first and third verses in Psalm 32. “The person who confesses their sins is blessed. The weight of the past mistakes doesn’t become an unbearable burden.”
 “I should ask Daniel for forgiveness?
“To start the healing process, yes.”

haiku capsule:                 
unheard cry for help
I give up; no use trying
loving friend needed



Next blog: Strong Witnessing Fails

Sunday 11 June 2017

Stupid is

      Stupid ?



Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result is said to be stupid. One does not learn from past mistakes. Not withstanding the common sense conclusion, I would submit there may be another reason for repeating the same action over and over again––fear. Powerful emotions override reason, override the prospect of searching for a different action.


In my novel, Baggage burdens. the protagonist is haunted by the physical mistreatment at the hands of her alcoholic father and a misdeed of her own. When reality presented her with a threat, she adopted the strategy that once offered her temporary relief––flee the threat. It doesn’t matter that she knew her strategy was questionable.
Fearing her father’s alcohol fueled rages, Jill ran away from home. At the time her action was an emotional reaction. She knew choice was not thought out. Where would she live, get her food? How would she earn a living? What would happen to her education? Her future was in the hands of lady luck. Running from trouble, not a wise action.
Hearing her former boy friend was coming to see her, Jill chose to runaway before he arrived instead of facing him and explaining that she wanted nothing more to do with him. He wasn’t violent. She could have asserted herself. Instead she chose an action that saved her from her father’s abusive behavior. She ran away. Wise? It cost her the company of her loving grandmother, a house with no rent, good friends, a part time job and the opportunity to pursue her passion––drama. Reason might indicate she’s giving up too much. A better action must be possible. Jill was not stupid. Emotion overruled the unwise choice of the past.
Once again Jill suspects her former boyfriend is about to find her. Once again she chooses to runaway. She gives up the company of a dear friend, a job she excels at, and marries Joseph, a boy she doesn’t love, just so that she can’t be found. Her repeated action has nothing to do with wisdom.
The very high value of not being found by someone in her past spawns fear. Fear prevents her from rationally examining alternative actions to deal with her perceived problem. She is not stupid. She is instead blinded by fear.



Jill’s nightmare delivers the truth that Jill refuses to acknowledge in her fear-filled conscious state.

Jill’s body sinks into the comfort of the chesterfield. She dozes. An hour slips by like it’s five minutes. In her sleep she kicks out and knocks the silverware box to the floor. The crash jars Jill. After determining what the noise was all about, Jill gives in to the chesterfield’s comfort and warmth. Her rest is a short-lived pleasure. 
“You phony.  Phony!  Phony!”  The deep male voice scratches Jill’s contentment like a cat’s claws raking her bare arm.  “Liar! Liar! Liar!” 
Jill cries out.  “Nooooooo.” 
Can’t marry me until you know more about me hey?  When did Joseph gain that vital knowledge about you before he agreed to this marriage?
“He thinks he knows enough,” whimpers Jill.
“And you know better. How dare you attempt to build a marriage without love? You know why you’re doing this? To hide from Dave.”
“Joseph loves me.”
“That means this marriage has only a 50 percent chance of success.”
“He’s happy.  What more do you want?”
“How about you choosing to make him happy?”
“I am making him happy. I agreed to a church wedding.”
“Good compromise, but does that mean you’ll be listening to God like he does?’
“Enough already!  Get out of my head.”
“Know this. Your marriage will tarnish like the silver you plan to polish.”
“Out!  Out!  Out!”  Jill’s shouting jerks her out of her rest.  She bolts into a sitting position. The back of her neck aches. She’s covered with perspiration.  Looking at the spilled silverware on the floor she half reaches out to pick it up. Then she pulls her hands away from the black stained objects, as if to avoid burning her fingers from hot charcoals.
Jill stumbles to the shower mumbling. “I hate that evil voice. I’ll prove it wrong. I’ll make Joseph happy. I will.

haiku capsule:                 
repeated mistakes
fear clouded thought, seems stupid
lost ability



Next blog: When There’s No Hope

Sunday 4 June 2017

Showing Fear

Showing Fear


                            
Show fear? No way. Do you think I want to show someone that they can have complete control over me?
You could say these are understandable reactions from one who values freedom and independence. Therefore, no sign of shaking, cringing, crying, widen open horror-eyes, furtive glances around. All of these a strong-minded character would avoid. So, how is intense fear shown in a strong-willed character?
In my novel, Baggage burdens. the protagonist’s psychological fear is shown in the trade offs she makes. When reading about Jill’s love for Josey, her grandmother; reading about the place in which Jill is living in Brampton, reading about her participation in the Brick Theatre, and her dreams for the future, decide whether Jill attaches a great deal of importance to each of these elements in her life or just a passing interest. If you conclude that the some or many of these aspects of her life are really good, does it seem reasonable that she would give them up instead of facing a frightening event in her past? True, you don’t know the terrifying past event. In Jill’s mind it is not clear either. The potential harm drives her to runaway from what she likes. Whether it is reasonable or not is irrelevant. All that needs to be understood is that one’s imagination can amplify a possible threat so it is too great to ignore. The gravity of that threat is shown by what Jill chooses to give up.


“I just need a place to stay and a good job,” says Jill.
“Yes, that’s one of the main reasons for us coming together.” Josey reinforces Jill’s concern as hers too. “Let me begin by saying that I am presently living with an eighty-two year old room mate, a good friend. She and I have been living together for several years now, taking care of each other you might say.” 
Jill’s eyes betray her disappointment. 
“But I might have a solution that you can handle.  There are some conditions.”
Jill leans forward in anticipation. 
“I have an old three bedroom house in Brampton. It’s fairly private.”
At the sound of private Jill’s enthusiasm leaps. 
“It sits on a small acreage, actually more like a park. George, your grandfather, and I retired there. When he died, I had to move to a condo. I haven’t been able to push myself to sell it, so I rent it out. Anyway last month’s tenant didn’t renew so it’s available. Of course that would mean that you’d have to cut the grass and keep the place up.”
“Sounds perfect,” says Jill. “But I don’t have a job so I couldn’t pay the rent or utilities.”
“No problem. You’ll just be a house sitter. I need someone there to occupy the property; insurance company requirements. And if you take care of it, that’ll be perfect.”
“But you could rent it out. You’ll be losing income.”
“Listen, George left me enough money to live on until at least one hundred and twenty, so don’t worry about that. Besides, I missed the opportunity of being your grandmother for so long. This is my chance to start making it up to you. By accepting, you’ll be doing me a favor.”
“This sounds too good to be true. It’s like sleeping in and drawing back the drapes and finding a bright sunny day.” Jill resists the urge to jump up and down for joy. Sliding to the edge of her chair, she asks, “When can I move in?”
“I do have one other requirement,” adds Mrs. Sommerveld hesitantly. “I hope you don’t feel like I should be minding my own business, but I think it is very important.” She waits for Jill’s reaction.
“Sounds serious. What is it?”
“I am concerned about your education.”
“I doubt there’s anything we can do about that. And if I’m going to Brampton, I’ll just have to repeat.”
“Maybe not. I would like your permission to look into it. I have a few contacts. They might be able to arrange something.”


By early August Jill is thankful for Josey’s rescuing deeds. They far exceed her wildest hopes. For the last five weeks Jill had worked hard on her English course, which her grandmother had arranged by enrolling her in a summer school course in Brampton. Exams are finished. She aced that course. In celebration of her success she claims the upper veranda deck at her grandmother’s red brick house in Brampton for her private sun-tanning haven. Singing wind chimes that hang from the soffit at the end of the deck sooth her spirit.
 “Ah-h-h, heaven! I could stay here forever,” revels Jill reminiscing about her summer. Hearing her words of joy, urges Jill to praise her grandmother next time she visits.
‘Gram, you’re so wonderful. I thought my high school courses were lost. I don’t know how you did it, but I’m sure thankful you convinced my history and drama teachers to let me hand in my last three assignments. It was a lot of work to do in two weeks. I really couldn’t of handled any more. Now I’m free until September. It feels so good.’ 
Returning to her holiday spirit, Jill sinks her head into the soft lounger cushion. Her eyes close. She absorbs the sun’s rays, deepening the tan on her legs, arms and stomach. ‘Enjoy this, while I can.’
At two o’clock she plans to leave for the Brick Theatre, home of the Creative Arts Society of Brampton.
 ‘I moved here at just the right time. What a blessing!’
Had Jill known of their need earlier, she’d have volunteered. Working in a theatre was a dream she gave up on when she ran away from home. ‘Now I have spending money too.’ The part time job required she work four hours a day, four days a week.
The people at the theatre had enthusiastically welcomed Jill. They even drafted her to play a small part in the production. Besides sewing costumes and painting scenes, the set designers eagerly accepted her input on stage settings. Hearing how sound effects enriched the performance amazed Jill. 
‘In September I’m definitely going to join the society. Then I can take their fall play production course. No charge.’


Doesn’t this sound like the perfect place for Jill to live?
Jill ran away from this place!

haiku capsule:                 
sanctuary found
a grandmother’s loving care
the high price of fear



Next blog: Stupid is