Sweet Sorrow

I am stepping away from writing for now. Frankly, I stepped away a long time ago, but I wasn't entirely sure why I had lost my creative spark. I think I'm finally coming to understand it, and I wanted to share at least some of my feelings with you before we part ways.

Recent events in both my life and the world have caused me to take a step back and reevaluate a lot of things. There was no one incident that triggered these feelings, but rather several years of ongoing attempts to open dialogue with people of different perspectives and belief systems.

When viewed through the eyes of social or television media, our society can sometimes seem as though it is crumbling. Nowadays, any online conversations involving even the slightest disagreement seem to be derailed and drowned by hate, anger, distrust, ignorance, and a stubborn unwillingness to consider anyone else's opinions. I, too, have been guilty of some of these things. Healthy discourse is severely lacking, replaced now by angry screams and hateful condemnations. It is completely counterproductive and it goes against everything I was ever taught about coexistence, cooperation, and love.

We don't cooperate anymore. We don't seem to want to coexist. We most certainly don't love each other. When I was young, I lived in a time of "We Are The World" and "Hands Across America." Every TV show had an episode about the pitfalls of racism. Every cartoon taught kids the importance of understanding, accepting, and embracing each other despite our differences. We didn't have to have the same religious beliefs. We didn't have to side with the same political party. We were all humans. We were all in this together.

Today, in 2017, you are ridiculed and discarded for having religious beliefs. You are judged, threatened, and stereotyped for your skin color. You are vilified and dismissed for your political views. Our society has become everything that the bullies and villains in my childhood stories were. Everything we were taught was wrong has been embraced. It scares me. It sickens me. It depresses me.

This website was called Searching for Heroes.

I've reluctantly come to the conclusion that we now live in a world where true heroes are seen as the villains.

While this has all been going on, I've begun to question my role as a writer and the responsibility that comes with it. What is my part in improving this world? How can I help change the direction our society seems to be heading? Sure, I could set the example by writing stories of true heroes, but I've come to question the nature of my writing. To put it bluntly, I'm not so sure what God wants me to write anymore. Is sci-fi/fantasy the way to go? Should I write more books like Building Blocks and get away from sword and sorcery? The Bible speaks against witchcraft and the like, but I always accepted it in the fantasy context because I know how to separate fantasy from reality. But what about my readers? What about the influence I'm having on them?

Many of you have written to me over the years to tell me how you have been affected by my books. I can't tell you how much that has meant to me. But at the same time, I take that responsibility very seriously. And I have started to wonder whether or not I am using what God has given me properly. Am I serving Him with my writing?

Or am I serving myself?

What am I supposed to be doing?

I'm not sure. But until I have an answer, I will step away. I will reflect, study, pray, and seek.

When I write again, it will likely be under a pseudonym. I don't want the credit for the work that God is doing in my life. I don't need the credit. I don't deserve the credit. God deserves it all, for he has blessed me and my life in more ways than I ever expected.

I love you all. Words cannot express my gratitude to all of you for giving me the forum to share my stories with you. It has been an amazing journey, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

God bless,
Kevin

"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened." - Matthew 7:7-8

Logical Arguments for the Existence of God

Are human beings the most intelligent species to ever exist across the entirety of the universe?

If your answer is yes, you are claiming intellectual superiority over a universe of which humans have explored and studied less than a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a fraction.

If your answer is no, you can't be an atheist.

Before I begin, I want to make something clear:  This not about "proving" the Christian God.  Yes, I am a born-again Christian and I do believe that Jesus died on the cross to pay the penalty for my sins.  But this is not about proving which religion is "right."  For that matter, it's not even about proving God exists.  It's about acknowledging the very logical possibility of the existence of a Creator.

Atheists like to throw around words like "logic" and "reason" in an attempt to make themselves appear superior and to both degrade and demoralize those who disagree with their reasoning.  After all, if you're not logical or reasonable, you clearly aren't the sharpest knife in the drawer, right?  But if you take a step back and observe the workings on the universe for just a moment, you'd find that it's both unreasonable and illogical to assume there is no God, much less declare this as a fact.

We see varying levels of intelligence in the various species on our own planet.  Insects, animals, humans - we all have differing degrees of intellectual capacity, and it is clear that humans stand at the top of that list.  Right away, that begs the question: What about other planets?  Does any other life exist out there?  If it does, is it smarter than us?

Critics will jump all over that comparison by saying that comparing the possibility of life on other planets to the possibility of a Creator is not equal because we see life on our own planet yet do not see any scientifically measurable evidence of a divine being.  Again, I direct them back to the "levels of intelligence" point from the previous paragraph.

For example, a dog can't design a satellite.  A bear can't invent an energy-efficient vehicle.  Lower forms of life lack the intellectual capacity to understand the concepts required to be able to accomplish what humanity has.  To them, the inventions of humans work by magic.  We, however, know that these things are not powered by magic because we understand the science behind them.

To those life forms, we are the divine beings due to our superior level of intelligence.

With that in mind, now ask yourself the question:  How did the universe begin?  Whatever your answer may be, ask yourself what came before that.  Then ask what came before that.  And before that.  And before that.

No matter what reason you come up with, you can always ask the question, "What came before that?"  This demonstrates the human brain's limitations.  Humanity cannot truly comprehend a hard "start" to existence because our brains tell us something must have come before that.  The law of cause and effect states that for every effect there is a cause.  So our minds tell us that whatever we believe "started" the universe, there must have been something to cause that.

But this plane of existence we call the universe had to begin somewhere, right?  The only option we have left - whether you do or do not believe in God - is to accept that our intellect is too limited to understand what many refer to as the "First Cause" of the universe.

So if we can demonstrate that the human brain is indeed limited, and we can demonstrate that there are varying levels of intelligence right here on our own planet, how can we possibly assume that there's nothing out there with an intellectual capacity greater than our own?

Most atheists will discount believers who invoke the "God did it" response to biblical events that would appear to be scientifically impossible.  Again, I want to reiterate that my goal here is not to prove Christianity but instead prove the possibility of a divine creator.  With that being said, why is the answer of "God did it" so impossible to us?  Regardless of the context, whether it be a miraculous healing or a worldwide flood, why do we discount the possibility that a divine Creator could do these things?

The answer, usually, is because these events seemingly go against the laws of physics and contradict much of what science knows regarding how the universe works.  So let's talk about that for a minute.

Your dog enjoys riding in the car with you.  To him, the car is this sleek red container that he jumps into and it takes him on this amazing ride through town.  He's always known it to be the same shape, color, and size, and there's nothing he can do to change the overall appearance or workings of the vehicle.

Then you buy a new car.  Your dog has no idea why, but his formerly red container has now become a wide green container.  It sounds different, looks different, and smells different.  How could this be possible?  It goes against every understanding he previously had about the appearance and workings of his travel container.

To us, the universe has always adhered to certain expectations.  The planets revolve around the sun, the tide rises and falls, etc.  And although we may put dings and scratches on our world much like that dog would put on the car, overall, it's the same universe it has always been.  Based on that, science has observed certain scientific laws regarding the nature of the universe.  And in our understanding of things, nothing can break those laws.

But what if something with a greater intellectual capacity does exist out there?  Again, the owner is smarter than his dog, so the owner completely understands why his car changed.  If there's something out there greater than humanity, how do we know it couldn't break what we call the laws of physics in a way that would be perfectly understandable if we shared its level of intelligence?  Why is that so impossible?  To declare these scientific laws 100% universally unbreakable is akin to declaring mankind the most intelligent species in the universe.  It is basically saying, "If we can't understand how it would be possible, it simply cannot be."

Yeah, the dog said that too.

When presented with these arguments, the atheist will typically say something about how there's no evidence that any of the workings of the universe are guided by a divine being and therefore there's no reason add one into our line of reasoning.  After all, if science can explain how a thunderstorm works, why do the religious add God into the mix?

Because nothing happens without cause.  Science teaches humanity how things work.  It does not teach why they work that way.  The question "Why?" is similar to the question "How did the universe begin?" because it can never be truly answered.  No matter what the response, you can always ask "Why?" again.  We know how thunderstorms and earthquakes work.  We know how televisions work and how motor vehicles are operated.  But why do they work that way?  And whatever answer you have in your mind, ask why again.  And again to that answer.  And again to that answer.  Keep going and going, because every scientific response you give - right down to the most basic laws of physics - still do not and cannot give a definitive answer to the question of "Why?"  If you can ask it again, it hasn't been resolved.

Science learns how the universe works, but ultimately has no idea why it works that way.  It's like learning how a car works without acknowledging the fuel that makes it go.

So if we can accept the possibility that humans are not the most intellectually superior beings in all of the universe, then we must also accept the possibility that there is something greater out there.  And if we accept the possibility that there might be something greater out there, we must also accept the possibility that this greater form of intelligence could understand and manipulate the laws of science in ways that the limited human brain cannot.  And if we accept that possibility, then we must accept the possibility that God exists.

Breaking Through the Walls

I never thought I'd find myself in this position.

I work a job right now that I never would've considered taking on my own.  It's a job I sort of fell into - a position that God put in front of me that I didn't expect.  And at the time, I didn't really want it, either.  But I had bills to pay, and I knew that responsibility had to be placed ahead of my anxiety.

It's funny how God teaches us things whether we want to learn them or not.  As you may or may not know, I'm a pretty socially awkward introvert.  I keep to myself in public, I don't have many friends, and I spend a lot of time at home with Laura.  There are those I've encountered throughout the course of my life who take that as arrogance, as though I think myself "too good" for them.  On the contrary, I see myself as not good enough.  I'm boring and plain.  I don't drink.  I'm not into the clubbing scene.  I don't dine in fancy restaurants, and I'm not a concert goer.  I like plain milk chocolate.  Vanilla ice cream.  T-shirts.  The band Chicago.  (That's the first time I've ever admitted that, by the way.)

I don't talk much about my non-writing work online for a couple of reasons.  First off, I work for a well-known worldwide company, and privacy and security are two of the most important aspects of our business.  Second, I prefer not to put too much of my private life out there.  I've been with my employer since moving to St. Louis five years ago, and I hope to remain there for a long time to come.  For that reason, as well as moral obligations, I won't divulge too many details.  But what I can tell you is this:  I make presentations to different groups of people on a near-constant basis, most of whom are initially complete strangers to me.  That puts me in sort of a public-relations type of position that is quite different from my old retail jobs, a spot that does NOT suit an introvert in the least.

But as I said, sometimes God teaches us things whether we want to learn them or not.

In school, I was absolutely terrified if I had to do any sort of public speaking in front of the class.  Oral reports were the worst - they may as well have been Armageddon as far as I was concerned.  I didn't want people to look at me, I wanted to sit in the back quietly and be forgotten.  There were times when the stress and anxiety made me want to throw up.

This past January, I spoke in front of an audience of nearly 80 people for a couple of hours.  And I did it with relatively little anxiety, no speech or script planned, and everything went extremely well. I realize that 80 people wouldn't be considered a lot in the eyes of some, but there was a time not too long ago when I would've quit my job long before I got anywhere near that conference room.

Anyway, I don't tell you these things to pat myself on the back or solicit anyone's praise.  I'm proud of the things I've accomplished, but I know there are millions out there who've done far greater and more important things with their lives than I ever will.  I tell you these things because I want you to know something:  If you run away from every situation that scares you, you could wind up closing doors on absolutely wonderful opportunities.  If you let nerves stop you from doing something, if fear makes you cower in the corner, if challenges make you tuck your tail and run, you will never know what you are truly capable of.  You will never learn, never grow, and never really feel a sense of accomplishment or satisfaction with your life.

Don't get me wrong - I totally understand the fear, especially when the critics in your life want to do nothing but bury you beneath it.  I've cowered in the corner more times than I can count, and when challenges come along, the instinct to run away is still the first thing that pops up.  I'm still an introvert.  I still prefer to stay home and avoid public places.

But if I need to do something that initially sparks those fears, I now find that there's a bravery just beyond the anxiety that I can call on when I need to.  If I find out today that I've got to speak in front of a group of 100 tomorrow, I'll be OK with that.  Not because I'm not scared, but because I allow God to put me in situations to teach me what I can accomplish.  To show me what I can do.  And if you never step out of that comfort zone, you'll never know what comfort really is.

Because the honest truth is that there's nothing more comforting than knowing you are no longer imprisoned by fear.

God bless,

Kevin

Deconstructing "The Miracle on 34th Street"

At some point every holiday season, we sit down to watch The Miracle on 34th Street.  Not the atrocious 1994 remake with John Hammond and Matilda - a movie that, in my mind, had no business being made - but the 1947 version with Edmund Gwenn and Natalie Wood.  I've seen this movie countless times throughout my life, and the assumption I'd always made was that Kris Kringle was really Santa Claus and that the ending of the film confirmed that fact.  However, after watching the movie this year, I came away with a much different conclusion.

Kris Kringle was not Santa.  He was indeed "just a nice old man with whiskers."

Kris Kringle was simply an elderly man who had made it his mission in life to act as a sort of real-life version of Santa Claus.  I think he believed he was the real Santa Claus, perhaps due to some form of dementia or other psychological disorder.  But nowhere in this movie is it suggested that he is the jolly old man from the North Pole who delivers presents to children all over the world on a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer.  Sure, he acknowledges the reindeer in the beginning of the movie and even shows the drunk Santa how to lash the whip, but acknowledgement is really as far as the movie goes.

When Doris first meets Kris, she asks "Could you play Santa Claus?  Have you had any experience?"  Kris laughs and says "A little."  It is reasonable to believe that, although this line was crafted to make the audience wonder, the truth is that he HAS played Santa before.  Later, his interaction with the kids inside Macy's supports that theory.  Yes, he speaks Dutch to the child, however as Doris says, "Susan, I speak French, but that doesn't make me Joan of Arc."

Haven't you ever wondered why, when the children sit on his lap, he doesn't just tell them he'll bring whatever gift they've asked for?  Instead, he tells the parents where they can find those gifts.  He tells the boy's mother where to find the fire engine.  He tells another girl's mother where she can get skates.  Seems odd - why wouldn't Santa just bring them himself?

When Doris begins to question Kringle's sanity, she finds that he lives in a home for the elderly under the care of Doctor Pierce.  Shouldn't Santa live in the North Pole?  Or if Kris spends the "off season" as a member of the general population, wouldn't there be some questions about his whereabouts whenever he returns to the North Pole?  None of this sort of thing is suggested - instead, Dr. Pierce appears to know Kris well and seems to have a positive relationship with him.

As for the gifts, just about each one of them is explained throughout the course of the movie.  As already noted, Kris tells the parents how to get their children's requested toys during the Macy's scenes.  Later, we are shown a scene in which Mr. Macy gives Kris a bonus check.  Mr. Gimbell asks Kris what he's going to do with it, and Kris says he knows a doctor who needs a new X-Ray machine.  This is the X-Ray machine later given to Dr. Pierce at the end of the movie.  Then there's the part where little Tommy, after coming off the stand in the courtroom, runs over to Kris and says "Don't forget, a real official football helmet!" to which Kris replies "Don't worry, Tommy, you'll get it!"  At the conclusion of the case, the prosecutor (Tommy's father) exclaims "I've got to get that football helmet!" and runs out of the courtroom.

 

This brings us to the finale, where Susan's grand request for a house is fulfilled.  Not just any house, mind you, but the exact house from the photo she gave Kris.  If you notice, the picture is a page out of either a newspaper or magazine.  Additionally, you can see that there are other homes on that same page.  It is probable that this page came from a real-estate listing of some kind, and all Kris did was show Doris and Fred where to find the house knowing full-well that Susie handle the rest.  Remember, when they enter the home in pursuit of Susie, Fred says "The sign outside says it's for sale.  We can't let her down."  Kris didn't give them the house.  He just showed them where to find it.  As for the cane against the wall, it could've very well been left there by the people who moved out.  Or Kris might have left it behind either by accident or to solidify Doris' belief in him as Santa. 

Maybe everyone else already picked up on all these details and I'm late to the party.  I don't know, but these subtleties give me a new respect for Miracle on 34th Street as a remarkable piece of storytelling.  Just don't ask me to watch the 94 version.  I won't react well.

I hope you and your loved ones have had a safe and Merry Christmas.  As we approach 2015, I pray for a peaceful, prosperous, and uplifting new year for all of you. 

God bless,

Kevin

My Hero

It was during kindergarten that I first remember her standing up for me in a way that might have embarrassed other kids.  I was an introverted bundle of nerves that had somehow managed to make a few friends only to find myself in a lunch period with none of them.  She came to the school and talked to the principal to request my schedule be changed.  Some would call me spoiled for that; as though she felt I was so special that I deserved to be able to choose my schedule while the other kids were blindly assigned.  But some of the friendships I forged that year lasted to this very day.  And I know I have her to thank for that.

For the entirety of my life, she's been accused of spoiling me.  Of being overprotective.  Of giving me special treatment.  Of coddling me.  Sheltering me.

I say she's the reason I'm still alive.

This website is called "Searching for Heroes" for a reason.  I chose the title because true heroes are hard to come by these days.  Police officers are beating their prisoners.  Children are being molested by religious leaders.  Protagonists in movies and TV shows are unrepentant murderers, drunks, womanizers, and thieves.  Video games like Grand Theft Auto center around criminal activities.  Morality is no longer "in" - rejected by a society bored of chivalry and consumed by a culture that revels in self-adulation.  Indeed, real heroes are hard to come by.

Yet were I to be asked for my definition of a hero, I'd point my finger squarely at her. 

She worked from 6AM to 11PM.  From the moment she began making breakfast while simultaneously packing our lunches to the moment when she finally sat down to read a little before bed, she did nothing but serve her family.  Between the duties of raising four children and working side-by-side with her husband to run the family business, she barely had a moment to breathe.  But when we needed her, she always made time.  If I needed a ride to school, she made time.  If I needed supplies for a school project, she made time.  If I needed help with my math homework, she made time.  When I needed a ride at the last minute to go on my first date, she made time.  And when I struggled to cope with my first break-up, she made time.

She taught me to respect others, appreciate what I have, and that the only thing I should ever hate is the word hate. 

She's been one of the main supporters of my writing aspirations from the very beginning.  When other family members told me I'd never be published, she urged me to follow my heart and work hard for what I wanted.  And without that support, I would've likely given up many years ago.  I've written a total of ten books to date, one of which she even edited for me.  I can't say enough about what her support has done for my writing career.

When I told her that a girl I met online was coming halfway across the country to visit me for a week, I said "Don't worry, she'll be staying in a hotel."

She said, "Why do that when she can stay here?"

Five years later, when I made the announcement that I was moving 900 miles away, other family members scoffed.  "You have no idea what you're getting into," they said.

She said, "You're going to do just fine."

More than all of that, however, she has been a living breathing example of what Christianity is truly all about.  She taught me that the first and most important commandment is to love others.  I've seen her volunteer for charity work, give stuffed toys to children's hospitals, bring strangers into her home, and most of all, care for my father during his final years.  As Alzheimer's consumed his memory and his motor functions, she carefully bathed, fed, and clothed him every single day.  She made sure he had music to listen to or movies to watch.  She brushed his teeth and combed his hair.  When he stared back at her blankly, she'd smile and tell him she loved him.  Her dedication to upholding the vow of marriage was unquestionable.

I've been trying for years to put these feelings into words in a way that does her justice.  I'm not sure I've really done that here, but I'm beginning to think it's because there just aren't any words that properly express my gratitude and appreciation for everything she's done.  I owe her everything I have and everything I am.  She is a counselor and a teacher.  A barber and a cook.  A nurse and a cheerleader.  A fighter and a defender.  A friend and a mentor.

She's my mother.

And she's my hero.

Seventy Times Seven

My father and I used to watch professional wrestling together.  It was one of a few things we shared.  He introduced me to it back in the mid-80's, which was when Hulkamania was booming.  We often watched it together on Saturday mornings and sometimes I could even get him to wrestle me with one of his big-buckle belts serving as the championship title.  When RAW started airing on Monday nights, we watched every week together.

I could go on for hours about my fascination with the wrestling business.  Dad used to point out to me when the wrestlers "messed up" because you could see how a move was done or watch a guy react to a punch that clearly never hit him.  It all had a very "pay no attention to the man behind the curtain" feel to it, which of course, made me want to see behind the curtain.  Nowadays, the curtain has been pulled back, and the industry openly admits to being a staged performance.

As a kid, one of my favorites was Jake "The Snake" Roberts.  I mean, I liked Hulk Hogan and Macho Man Randy Savage and all those big names of the time period, but there was something about Jake Roberts that grabbed my attention and held it firm as long as he was on the screen.  Of course, there was the eventual hope that he'd open his bag and dump Damien (his snake) onto his opponent, but there was more to Roberts than that.  He had a natural charisma that made you question how much of what we saw on TV was character and how much was actually his real personality. 

One of the most impressive aspects of Jake Roberts' character was his ability to deliver fantastic promos.  In the wrestling world, the word "promo" is used to describe any time a character speaks on the mic.  Today, most promos are (sadly) heavily scripted. Maybe not word-for-word scripted, but still planned out for the most part.  The person conducting the interview will ask pre-planned questions, and the wrestlers will give their pre-planned answers.

But back in the day, it was all improv work.  Part of being a successful character was being able to deliver interesting promos that sold the product.  The wrestler and interviewer would be put in front of the live camera and told "Talk about the upcoming match" or "Talk about what happened last week" or something general like that.  Since they were broadcasting live, they had only one take to get it right.  From there, it was up to the performers to make it happen.  And Jake Roberts always made it happen.

One of my favorite promos by Jake happened at Wrestlemania 6 before his match with Ted DiBiase.  This promo is widely considered to be one of the best promos in the history of the business.  I've posted it below.  Just to set the stage, Ted DiBiase played the character of "The Million Dollar Man," a rich guy who was so arrogant that he paid for his own title belt - the "Million Dollar Championship" - which Jake Roberts stole.

Sadly, Roberts never spent any considerable time at the top of the wrestling world.  Drug and alcohol addiction dragged him down a dark and dangerous road for the majority of his life.  He'd disappear from the wrestling world for a time, then re-emerge for another run.  Sometimes he'd be gone a couple of months, sometimes years.  Eventually, he disappeared for good.  As the business began to open up more, documentaries began to be produced.  Jake's battle with his addictions is well-documented in films such as "Beyond the Mat" and "Jake Roberts: Pick Your Poison."  In his defense, he had a worse childhood than many of us might have dreamed.  The kind of things he endured during his youth would be enough to drive most people to find some kind of escape.

As time went on, pictures and videos started surfacing on the internet.  Among other things, there were clips of him drunk at independent wrestling shows, unable to perform properly, and making a mockery of the amazing character he'd created during his run in the 80's.  Fans like myself thought it was just a matter of time before he was found dead somewhere.  But somehow, through it all, he hung on.

Fast forward to October, 2012.

Jake Roberts, over 300 pounds and barely able to move due to the years of abusing his body through both wrestling and drugs, moved in with another former wrestler, Diamond Dallas Page (DDP) to try to clean up his life for the umpteenth time (really, Microsoft Word?  You recognize "umpteenth" as a word?).  With DDP's help, Roberts was able to get himself on a good path for the first time in decades.  DDP's yoga program (creatively called DDPYoga) helped Jake get mobile again, lose weight, and finally begin to take hold of the demons that had held him prisoner for the majority of his life. 

But exercise, no matter the type, can only do just so much.  Jake was in need of surgery to help fix some injuries that had never healed and were inhibiting his recovery.  Wrestlers don't have health insurance, so, in January of 2013, DDP set up an Indiegogo donation campaign to help fund Jake's surgeries.

Following Jake's surgery, he continued to walk the straight and narrow.  He kept up with his workouts, resisted temptations to return to the drugs and alcohol after 30 years of addiction, and today he is clean and sober and in great shape. 

So why am I telling you all of this?

Well, as I mentioned, this wasn't Jake's first attempt at getting clean and taking control of his life.  He had done it before, but it never lasted very long.  Doctors will tell you that addiction is a cruel mistress - your brain becomes so accustomed to the stimulation provided by the object of your desire that it begins to feel like a bodily need.  A requirement.  A thirst.  You feel like you just can't get by without satisfying that need.
 

As a result, when news got out about Jake's Indiegogo campaign to raise money for his surgeries, there were some wrestling fans who reacted harshly.  There were people who said things like "I'm not going to hand him money - he'll blow it on more drugs" and "If he'd been smarter with the money he earned, I wouldn't be expected to pay his bills" and so on.  It made me sick to my stomach.

Is there a limit on forgiveness?  Should there be? 

The answer is no.

Then Peter came and said to Him, "Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times?" Jesus said to him, "I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven."  -Matthew 18:21-22

Everyone makes mistakes.  Sometimes we make a lot of them.  Sometimes we make the same mistake over and over.  Sometimes we know we're doing it, yet don't know how to stop it.  We're all human.  We're all imperfect.  And we all rely on each other to make it through this life.

Jake Roberts, regardless of past transgressions, reached out for help.  How could we, as fellow human beings, knock that hand away?  Why would we refuse to offer help to someone in need?  Because he screwed his life up by himself?  Because he has no one to blame but himself?  Because his choices put him in that position?

So what?

Who among us hasn't done one thing or another to screw up our own lives?  Who among us hasn't made poor decisions?  Who among us hasn't reached out to a fellow human being at one time or another and said "Please, help me."?

If someone reached back, were you thankful?

If no one reached back, did you wish they had?

Why not be that blessing to someone else?

Are we as a people so focused on results that we'd give up on a human being if the odds of success didn't look good?  It's not as though he was in a vegetative state in a hospital; he was injured and asking if anyone would be willing to help.  But since he'd failed too many times for some people's liking, they weren't willing to "risk" it for him again.  Really?  A fifteen dollar donation is too much to risk?  Thirty?  Fifty?  Is that the price limit on a man's recovery?  Should there be a price limit?

Here's a question: If Jake Roberts turned back to booze after getting his surgery, should anyone have regretted contributing?  If Jake Roberts used the donation money to buy drugs, should anyone have regretted contributing? 

The answer is "No."

I would've been upset, of course, but I would not have regretted it.  You can't control what other people do, you can only control what you do.  The donations Jake received helped give him a chance for a healthier life.  Whether or not he wanted to accept that chance was up to him.  But at the very least, when he extended his hand and asked for help, there were people out there to grab it.

Last month, Jake Roberts, with his life back on track after 30+ years of addiction, finally received his much deserved reward with an induction into the WWE Hall of Fame.  Addiction is a lifelong struggle, and he will have to battle his self-destructive tendencies until the day he dies.  Maybe he'll make it, and maybe he won't.  But at least for now, he's living life in a way he hasn't experienced before - happy, healthy, and alive.

Never underestimate the blessing you can be to another person.

Give without expectations.

Love always.

God bless,

Kevin

Lost in Paradise

For the longest time, I used to ask God why I was alone.  I was never one to go out dating random girls, so it would've been easy to single out that fact as the reason.  But the truth was that I didn't have interest in dating anyone I didn't know.  I never believed my future wife would come from a random date - it would be someone I was friends with first.  That's not a knock in any way at people who do the random dating thing - I know people who met that way and have had long healthy relationships.  It works for some people, but not me.

Eventually, Laura came along.  We became friends online through a Christian message board.  Oddly enough, she replied to a post I had made about battling depression, and we talked back and forth for a few months before meeting in person.  To make a long story short, we've been together for almost ten years and have carved out a nice little life for ourselves.  God answered my prayers for companionship.

Another big thing on my to-do list was to get out on my own.  Where I grew up, independent living doesn't come at a reasonable price.  I lived in my parents house for far too long, and I needed to gain my independence.  A series of events in late 2009 led to Laura and I moving halfway across the country into our own apartment.  We've been on our own since then.  God answered my prayers for independence.

After serving the monster that is retail for far too many years, another goal of mine was to find a job where I could be happy.  Of course, I didn't put too much weight into this goal because, quite frankly, most people dislike their jobs.  But when I least expected it, I found myself in the job I have now.  I'm not going to go into detail, but I'm in a position that I actually like with a company that I respect doing something I actually believe in.  After so many years of horrible bosses, heartless customers, and meager pay, my current boss is awesome, I don't interact with customers, and I'm able to pay my bills while still setting some aside for savings. 

Will it last forever?  Few things do.  I'm aware that there's a near-certainty that my current job situation will not last, and I realize that there's a chance I may have to return to the nightmare that is retail employment someday.  But for now, I'm enjoying what I've been blessed with.  I'm doing something where I have the opportunity every day to help people get the best out of themselves, and it can be very rewarding.  God answered my prayers for a job that makes me happy.

My last big goal was to be a published author.  After years of rejections from publishing houses and agents, I finally decided to go the self-publishing route in 2010.  I fully expected to be met with harsh criticism - after all, if the experts of the industry didn't find any merit in my work, how would readers ever accept me?  But my books have all been met with overall positive reviews, showing me that sometimes the best way to reach your goal is to go out and do it on your own.  God answered my prayers for writing success.

In a way, you could say that I've reached all the goals I set out for myself in life.

So why do I feel so lost?

As you probably know by now, it's been almost two years since I've written anything of significance.  It's depressing.  It's aggravating.  It's suffocating.  Every time I sit down to write, my brain shuts down.  I stare at the screen telling myself, "Let's go adventuring!"  My brain responds by saying, "Nope, Nothing here today.  Please try again tomorrow."  I have ideas, but no words.  Images, but no expression.  And it wasn't until recently that I discovered that this dry spell of creativity extends to more aspects of my life than just writing.

I used to do video editing on my iMac that I'd upload to YouTube.  Sometimes they were goofy little shorts and sometimes they were vacation montages.  I loved it, and from what I've been told, others enjoyed my work too.  But last week, I tried to sit down and make a video for my first time in a long time, and nothing came together for me.  I couldn't get audio and visuals to line up.  The program wouldn't allow pictures to display properly and I just didn't have the energy or drive to keep pushing and researching until it was resolved.  I threw my hands up and walked away.

I also used to enjoy recording music.  I've never recording anything substantial because I'm not at all gifted musically, but I enjoyed dabbling with it and seeing what I could come up with.  Lately, I haven't had the ambition to do any of those things.

For whatever reason, my creative juices are shot.  And it's not that I don't WANT to do these things.  I have a ton of story ideas, a few videos I'd love to put together, and I still enjoy playing guitar.  But when I sit down to try to create anything, it all falls flat almost immediately. 

The only conclusion I can come to is that I'm supposed to be focusing my attention on something else right now.  If there's one thing God has taught me over the years, it's that he has a way of taking away or postponing the things I want until I do whatever it is that HE wants me to do.  I'm fine with that - I'm here to serve, after all.  There's only one problem.

I really don't know what he wants from me this time.

There have been times in my life when I've gotten so wrapped up in my own plans that I've unknowingly turned from the path God was leading me down and went my own way.  When I finally realized it and got back on track, God was waiting there to continue the journey with me.  I fear this may be one of those situations, but it's hard to determine when and where I may have gone astray.

I've considered the possibility that taking a break from writing was the wrong decision, but if that's the case, then getting back to writing would be the solution.  That's not working out at all for me.  I also thought that maybe God wanted me to take my writing in a different direction rather than continue with sci-fi/fantasy stuff.  In my last post, you can see my attempt to do that, but it ultimately hasn't gone anywhere either.

I've also begun to think that maybe the direction I'm supposed to go doesn't necessarily have to be a creative one.  Without revealing too much about my job, I'm in a position where I can help people bring out the best in themselves.  It's my job to encourage, develop, and guide others.  Is that my service to God now?  Is my task for God to help people through my position at work?  It seems a little too easy to me - this is what I get paid to do every day.  It doesn't feel like "above and beyond" or anything like that.  But maybe that's OK with God?  I don't know.

And because I know I have critics of religion who read this page, I'm sure some of you are asking "If you claim God talks to you, why doesn't he just tell you want he wants you to do?"  Sometimes God will do that.  But more often, we learn and grow better when we figure out things for ourselves.  If your calculus teacher gave you an exam and then stood there telling you all the answers every time, you wouldn't learn nearly as much as you would have if you'd taken the time to study and apply the material yourself.

Laura says it's possible God doesn't want anything right now and that this is just a waiting period.  God's timing is not our own, after all, but when things come up, I need to be ready to act.  I know this does happen, but is that what's going on here?  I'm not so sure.  I feel like I should be doing something.  But right now, I'm just... lost.

God bless,

Kevin