... House of Joe, writing on my novella. Of course, it was all for naught, but nevertheless a pleasant exercise.
Anyway, this man comes in to buy coffee and asks in a loud voice if there is a newspaper around. I knew there was so I said, "Yes, there one there." (Picture me pointing.) He comes over to pick it up and said to me, "Do you see the President's speech last night? Man, I had to turn it off. He mentioned God three times in the firs ten minutes."
What? God? Oh. My. Who does he think he is? I replied, "Aren't you glad the leader of our nation is trusting in the kind, loving God of the universe to lead him?"
That launches a fifteen minute dialog from pressing the red nuke button to the Iraq war to gay marriage to who is control the world's oil. I refuted most of his argument easily enough because they are all emotion based. But finally, he said, "I tell you what. In the end, it's he with the most oil who wins."
I smiled. "Actually, he who knows Jesus in the end, wins."
"Well, nice talking to you. See you." End of conversation.
Fun, eh? I was nice, calm, cool, giving the man his due on the points he did try to make. But really, nothing matters because at the End of the Age it's all about Jesus and His Kingdom. Read the Book.
I am redirecting my novellla. I had to stop, think, work on my characters. I did that today and wrote a chapter by chapter outline.
Then went to Step aerobics and rethought the story some. I need a new starting place. I want the hurricane to be more prominent. Aren't ya'll just waiting to read this story. Ah, the writer's life. Actually, I wouldn't want to do anything else.
Tony and I watched Miss Congeniality 2 tonight. V. cute but the plot had some holes.
Want to say hi to Judy and Bob Mumford. Thanks for stopping by! You have a deep place in my heart.
Missing Dad today. I cried a few times. I don't know what about today hit me so hard, but I just missed him. I was reading something in Matthew 26 and wondered what he would think about it, and that started it.
Most of his death is dealing with missing him, but then there's the part about knowing life is forever changed. My memories have all faded, the emotion of them changed. A picture of Homestead, Haskell, or Lexington may float across my mind and I know instinctively I can never relive those days again, even in my mind. They are not simply faded memories, but now, almost like tainted ones. It's not like a chapter in my life has ended, but a book has been written, ended, read and closed. Forever.
Psalm 116: 15 - "Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of His godly ones."
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6 comments:
I don't really cry to much but I know what you mean rachal about the analogy of the book. The only problem is you can't re-read the book. All the pages are gone. You can only remember the story and the memories are painful. I miss him most when I need dads thought on something. Love ya
I forgot to tell ya I loved this post. Just think if you weren't a Christian you probably would have thought "Shut Up you big mouth and go away" and you wouldn't have thought twice about it. Instead you shared Jesus with him. thats exciting!
Just think, you planted a seed today with that man.
Rachel, you are so bold and articulate. It amazes me how much non-believers thinks everyone else agrees with them concerning God. Very Good - lots of KUDOs for you.
I feel the same way about Dad and our trips, even if I would go w/someone else someplace it won't be the same as it was for he and I, our trips was so much a part of who we were.
Love Mom
Rachel and Joel, Your Mom shared your story with me. If you don't mind, I'll share my personal thoughts since I've been where you are right now. The memories are painful but as the healing process continues they will become less painful and move into the joyful. I've lost both my Father and my Husband. I look at it as a book that continues to be written throughout my life and will be continued through my children. I have the memories of my Father and I share those with my children although he died way before they were ever born. I always remind my children of stories about their Father and they're always happy to share the memory. Their memories fade because they were ages 8, 13, and 17 when their Father died. It does hurt because the one we love is no longer here right now with us. We all heal in our own way and time. I have no magic words or great revelation on the loss of a loved one except to say that my thoughts and prayers continue with your family.
Hi Rachel,
Wow, I don't know if I would have had the kahones to sit and argue with the man. I'm not very confrontational, I'd rather smile and say, "What you think is what you think, let me think what I think." Is that my post-modern side coming out? I'm such a wuss.
(Oh, and BTW I tried accessing your archives on the right side, but I kept getting html gibberish.)
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